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With a quick pull that evokes a gasp from me, he yanks out the candle and drops it on the floor of the shower. He grabs me, pressing his mouth to my neck and biting hard. I jump, and his erection is hard and huge against me. Then he pulls back abruptly. He’s completely sopping wet, his underwear clinging to his straining erection. I can barely take my eyes off his massive cock—the wet material leaves little to the imagination.
“Rinse and then get out and dry off. Wait for me in the bedroom.” He pauses. “Kneeling.”
I only hesitate a moment. “Yes, Master,” I breathe before following his commands.
Ten minutes later, he enters the room. I’m kneeling at the foot of the bed, my eyes on the floor, my hands clasped behind my back. I’m shaking with the cold and also with hunger, but I refuse to say anything. He has a towel wrapped around his waist. And that’s all I can see from my angle.
Suddenly, he bends and drapes a bathrobe around my shoulders. “Put it on,” he orders me. “I’ll be back. But you aren’t to leave this room unless I allow it. You aren’t even to ask to leave. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Master,” I say without trying to sound like a robot, though I’m starting, strangely, to feel like one.
My heart can only race with anticipation and even a little fear, unable to wrap my mind around what he might have in store for me next.
Chapter 27
Complete Submission
Once Evan leaves the room, I pull my arms into the robe he’s given me and belt it up. The thick, velvety inside warms my cold skin and the shivering stops. I’m still aching from unfulfillment, hoping I get my orgasm soon. Since the night before when I was chained to the bed and later in the shower, he’s done nothing but tease me, bring me to the brink and then leave me hanging. It’s infuriating, and it’s all I can do not to touch myself now for a little relief.
I ponder my next move. Should I get off my knees? But he didn’t give me permission. They are starting to hurt from all this time kneeling on the carpet. I could get up and sit on the bed, but he hasn’t explicitly allowed that either.
On the other hand, he hadn’t actually said not to move. He did say I couldn’t leave the room without his permission. I make to get up, grabbing onto the footboard to pull myself up, when I stop, remembering his instructions in the shower. Wait for me in the bedroom…on your knees.
Wouldn’t it please him more to see that I had taken his commands literally? If I stay as I am…I’ll be uncomfortable for a few minutes longer, but the payoff may be a lot greater. It might even be worth it.
I have no further time to dither before Evan steps back into the room with a large tray. He sets it down on the table beside the fireplace, then he takes the chair and sits. He watches me for a moment as I keep my eyes on the floor.
“Come here, my darling.”
My heart lurches with joy. He’s never called me that before. He’s never used any term of endearment. And that one, the way it rolls off his tongue with his British accent—it’s delicious and intoxicating. I hobble to my feet, and then, eyes still fixed before me, I stand in front of him, forcing myself to ignore the food. I want to bury my face in that fucking food tray, I’m so famished. I want to strap it onto my face like a food bag. But I resist even looking at it.
“Kneel here, in front of me, and I’ll feed you.”
One second of hesitation. My fists tighten at my sides. He’s feeding me now? My one last shred of resistance is rearing its ugly head. He waits, watching. He’s tense, poised, almost as if hoping I’ll fight him on this.
“Must I repeat myself?” he snaps tersely when I make no move.
I blink, jolting to my knees. “I’m sorry, Master.”
“You’ll be making up for it later, Madeline. For every indiscretion.” He shakes his head in disdain. “You were doing so well there that I’d forgotten you are just a beginner.”
Just a beginner.
Suddenly I’m awash with curiosity. Has he done this before? Has he been a dominant to other submissives? He certainly knows what he wants. He seems to know how to “train” me and get me to perform for him, too. A sick, dark feeling roils in my belly. I’m ill with jealousy at the thought of some other woman kneeling before him, accepting his cock into her mouth, swallowing his come, receiving his praise. My face flushes, and he raises a hand to my cheek, smoothing it.
“And you’ll learn to hide the anger, too. But we have time. Lots of time for you to improve.” His thumb traces my trembling lips and my eyes flutter closed. “And the thought of teaching it all to you makes my cock throb. So let’s feed you, shall we? Your lessons await.”
And he proceeds to do just that—feed me as I kneel before him. He places small pieces of fruit before my mouth, pushing them in slowly, erotically, forcing me to lick his fingers as he does. He feeds me yogurt that way, too, with his fingers instead of a spoon, indicating that I should suck them clean. There are pieces of cheese, cold sausage. The few times I reach to take the food with my hand, he pulls it away, then finally tells me to clasp my hands behind my back until he’s finished feeding me.
When I close my eyes to try to forget this humiliation, he orders them open. He orders me to lock gazes with him. And without a second’s hesitation, I do it. For each bite, after I swallow it, I’m to thank him and call him master.
And with each passing second, I’m becoming more and more his.
But still there’s this feeling, like the other shoe is about to drop. Those lessons he spoke of…I wonder about them with not a little fear and trepidation and, I’ll admit, a spark of excitement.
After he’s pushed a ripe berry into my mouth—placing it deep near my throat and slowly withdrawing his finger as my lips close around it—he says, “There you are. You’ve had enough. We can’t have you too full…”
I gulp and swallow the berry whole instead of chewing it. Cold fear streaks through me, and I’m suddenly so wet that the moisture is dripping down the insides of my thighs. He smiles and bends to pull open my robe, pushing it apart and exposing my breasts to him.
