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Instead, he went to the table and pulled out a chair. Ellen turned at the sound. “Everything’s almost ready, Sir,” she said. “May I bring your coffee?”
“That would be good,” he agreed.
She brought him a mug and then returned to the kitchen. Damon sighed with pleasure as he sipped the strong, hot brew, perfectly sweetened. A few moments later, Ellen emerged carrying a large tray.
She set down two plates piled with eggs, bacon and buttery toast. She took the tray to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a second mug of coffee. The welts on her breasts were still visible, though already fading. He’d been careful not to strike them too hard, mindful of delicate breast tissue.
Her nicely padded ass was another story. He’d given her a mark that would last a while. As if to make his point, she winced as she slid into the seat opposite his, no doubt still feeling the sting.
Her face smoothed as she asked, “Is the food to your liking, Sir?”
“It’s delicious,” he replied, forking up another mouthful of buttery eggs. “Just the way I like it.”
“I’m glad, Sir.”
He watched with some amusement as she tucked into her food like a starving person. “I like a woman with a good appetite,” he commented. “Though I have no idea where you put it.”
“Unfortunately, it’s directly deposited into the hip and booty savings account,” she said with an impish grin.
He smiled in spite of himself, both surprised and charmed at this glimpse of humor. It occurred to him they really didn’t know each other at all. Which was all to the good. It would make it that much simpler to walk away.
“You have a lovely body,” he said sincerely.
Ellen ducked her head, her smile suddenly shy. “Thank you, Sir.”
At the end of the meal, Damon pushed back his chair with a contented sigh. “That was delicious. After you clean up, report to me in the playroom.”
≈
When Ellen entered the playroom, Master Damon looked up with a smile. He had dressed in a red T-shirt over black silk drawstring pants. Not for the first time, she noticed the asymmetrical tilt of his smile, a subtle imbalance no doubt caused by his scar.
What happened to you? she wanted to ask, flashing back to the myriad angry scars on his back. Would he tell her? There was only one way to find out, though now obviously wasn’t the time.
Would there ever be a right time?
She was distracted from her thoughts by the array of sex toys he’d set up on one of the leg rests of the spanking bench, along with a large tube of lubricant, an empty plastic bin and a bottle of water. There was a vibrating wand, a penis-shaped dildo, a medium-sized anal plug, a remote-controlled egg and a rabbit vibrator. They all looked brand new.
She relaxed a little. There was nothing there she couldn’t handle.
“Come on over,” he directed. “I’m not going to distract you during this first exercise with any impact play. I just want to watch. Choose something you know you can come with in under a minute. And, just so you know, this time I will punish you if you don’t make it in the allotted time frame.”
Okay. This was a no-brainer. While she didn’t particularly like the blunt-force nature of a vibrating wand, especially one as big and heavy-duty as that one appeared to be, she could definitely climax in under a minute with it. There was no choice in the matter—the stimulation, even on the lowest setting, was too intense to resist.
Moving toward the bench, she picked up the wand. “I choose this one, Sir.”
“I thought you might,” he said with a knowing smile. “I’ll give you the signal to start. You don’t need to ask permission to orgasm. Just do it. You will come standing up with your eyes open and on me.”
Okay, that was more of a challenge, especially the part about keeping her eyes on him. But she could do it. She would do it. She was an Enclave-trained slave.
“Yes, Sir,” she said.
Taking the large wand in hand, she squirted a generous dollop of lube on the rounded head. Refusing to allow even the hint of a blush to heat her cheeks, she faced her Master. She nestled the head of the wand at her center, found the on button with her finger and waited for his signal.
He lifted his watch and tapped the screen. “On your mark. Get set.” He tapped it again. “Go.”
She pressed the button, bringing the toy to vibrating life. Then she moved her finger to the second button and pressed, increasing the intensity of the vibrations. Her impulse was to close her eyes so she could concentrate. But, remembering his dictate, she kept her gaze on his face.
Master Damon’s eyes were hooded, his gaze boring into her as the vibrator whirred against her. Sensation flooded her as the toy pounded like a jackhammer against her clit. Before long, she was panting, heat radiating from her core. How many seconds were left? Was she going to make it?
