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“And so things eventually changed?”
“I guess they did. They had to, but I’m not certain how. He was steady, the same day after day. I would have thought a man so clever and exuberant would be fun to serve. I’d see him dancing deliciously with other woman—he’d have these entertainment nights at the house… Before I gave in, I’d be looking on wishfully, watching master enjoy himself without me. He dances divinely, his sensuous hips move with such ease…” Delia drifts from one thought to the next as she remembers back. Her face is animated and full of joy. Her eyes brighten with sparks, and occasionally darken when she talks about the pain. “Anyway, back to me, I’d see him with so much charm. But with me, he was ruthless and unbending. I tried to plead with him, pour out my passions—sometimes it was only with my eyes—but nothing moved him. Master is a very duplicitous man. I don’t know how it happened exactly, but my will finally seemed to drift away. He’d wake me early in the day, have me flogged… which was a wonderful experience, because he had this suede whip with dozens of thongs. It awakened me with this beautiful energy, but then…” she bites her lip, and begins to fidget with the sheets. I take her hand in mine and hold it so she’s forced to focus on me. She looks in my eyes, nervously. “Master punished me for my halting attitude. He used a cane, marked me many times. Then sometimes he’d tie me and spank me with a wooden paddle so hard… Time turned me inside out. And then one day I forgot about being annoyed and irritable. I forgot about you as much,” she blushes, “then my good times with Master began.” She keeps talking in this beautiful monologue, and I’m intrigued by her animated eyes and the sound of her voice. Her passion makes me wonder if it was wrong to have sent her to Calvin—not wrong for her, but wrong for me.
“He mastered me well, Heinrich. His scenes were very nasty. He said he needed to remind always of being submissive and doing as my master ordered me. I learned a good deal about being less possessive. I know I can possess no master—only serve them.”
I see she’s changed. She’s a more confidant submissive, which makes her more appealing than the clinging vine I sent away.
In our first scene since her return, Delia seems to float. I tie her arms above her head in the living room where she’ll dangle for a while as I watch admiringly. She wears a cream white corset, which makes the hourglass of her bounteous flesh pour out above the lace edge, while her waist is firmly clipped at the middle. I use a long lash of leather thongs, covering her body in strokes, then change to a more biting whip, and still another more intense until she’s pouring heat, the sensation in her soon driving into me. Her skin is marred with red stripes and marks and rashes everywhere. I hold in her my arms upright as I fuck her cunt and thrust a dildo in her ass. She cums just as I do.
I see the changes in her. Delia’s body moves into this with great ease, she takes the pain with little complaint, and her determination to submit bears a different quality as though she’s not as needy and slavish with her affections—they are instead, in a more proper and appealing form. I think my Delia is exactly as I would have created her in the beginning—but still, I’m worried. I don’t understand why, but I suspect she’s not telling me everything she’s feeling.
***
It’s been three weeks since Delia left Calvin and we’ve resumed our life together. I left for the office early this morning, Delia still in bed. I awaken her with a kiss and she looks at me, her face a bit strange before she smiles.
“You have a meeting this morning?” I ask.
“No, that was canceled,” she tells me.
“Ah, then I’ll see you later.”
At ten o’clock, Delia’s still not at work. I call at eleven, after a lengthy meeting kept me from trying her earlier. She answers the phone in the apartment, her voice strange. “Would it be possible for you to meet me here for lunch?” she asks.
“You’re being vague, my dear,” I answer her with a stern voice.
“I know, but I can’t talk about this over the phone.”
“This? This what? And why aren’t you at work?”
“It’s okay, I have it handled. Just come home, please.” She’s pleading as she used to, and that gnaws at me unpleasantly.
Rearranging my day, I’m home at twelve-thirty. As I open the apartment door, I’m surprised to see her luggage in the
hallway. She’s heard me enter, and stands in the doorway of the living room with a winsome smile on her face.
“I’m leaving, Heinrich.”
“So it appears.”
“I didn’t realize how much Master got inside me until I’d left him. I never meant for this to happen—and truly, I don’t want to hurt you…”
“Hurt me? Why should this hurt? I half expected it to happen,” I quip as though I don’t care.” Certainly, it’s not the first time a submissive has fallen in love with a interim master.” I know I need to be cold. It’s in my nature. It’s how I survive. It’s how I master women, though something in me hurts strangely. I’m not sure what I feel by this rejection. I shouldn’t feel anything—she’s just a sub, and can easily be replaced.
Delia looks confused by my response.
“It’s a risk we take, my dear,” I rattle on, “and as impressionable as you are, I can’t be surprised.”
I can see her in tears, as she speaks, “This isn’t hard for you at all, is it?”
“Hard?”
“My leaving.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I guess I should have figured that.” A tear escapes and travels slowly down her cheek. “I do still love you, Heinrich. But you’re cold and aloof and distant—just like you are now. I can’t live with that. I just can’t.”
“I see.” The accusation is familiar. “Well, then, I guess it’s better that you go.”
