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Turning away, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet, his morning erection bobbing from his groin like a divining rod.
“I need a shower,” he muttered to himself.
Beau stood at the sink shaving when he saw Lia’s reflection appear in the steamed mirror. She stepped into the room, her gait made awkward by the rope around each ankle. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, not turning around.
“Good morning, Sir,” she replied, moving toward the sinks.
As she came alongside him, he glanced at her. “I let us sleep later than I meant to. We’ll grab some breakfast and then we’re going down into town. We can stop at your place so you can grab whatever you need, and I’ll also need to swing by my apartment. Then we can head over to the university.”
She held up her shackled wrists. “What about these, Sir?”
He briefly considered leaving her in the ropes, but decided against it, as she would need to dress before they left the compound. Setting down his razor, he turned to her. “See that loop there, that one in the center?” He pointed to the bracelet cuff on her left wrist. “Just give it a tug and the cuff will unravel.”
He watched with satisfaction as she plucked at the clever knot, causing the rope to fall from her wrist. “Cool,” she exclaimed, making him smile.
“Now, do the same with your other wrist and then your ankles. Coil the ropes neatly and place them on top of my gear bag. Then you may use the toilet and shower. But don’t dawdle. I want to get going.”
He had just finished dressing, duffel and gear bags packed, when Lia came out of the bathroom. He reached for the snake whip, which he’d left on the bed. “Come over here and bend over the mattress, feet on the ground, legs spread, ass out.”
A hungry look came into her eyes as she eyed the whip. Greedy girl.
He watched with pleasure as she assumed the position. Reaching between her legs, he cupped her cunt, pleased to find it smooth and soft. A small tremor moved through her body at his touch. He pulled his hand away and picked up the whip.
“I’m going to mark you each morning for the duration of your training. It’s just a small reminder that I own you, at least for the next five days.”
Assuming an appropriate stance behind her, he reached for the whip. “You will thank me afterward. And you’ll stay in position until I give you permission to rise.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said throatily, her husky voice curling around his cock like a wet mouth.
Taking careful aim, he flicked the whip with a resounding thwack across both ass cheeks.
Lia huffed a breath of air, her hands briefly clenching into fists. Almost immediately, a beautiful red welt rose on her creamy flesh.
“Thank you, Sir,” she gasped.
“My pleasure.”
Beau reached for the tube of Aubrey’s aftercare ointment he’d snagged the night before from downstairs. He opened it now and dabbed the healing salve carefully over the welt. Recapping the tube, he slipped it into an inner pocket of his gear bag, along with the snake whip.
“You can stand up now,” he informed Lia as he hoisted both his overnight duffel and his gear bag over one shoulder. “Let’s go down and grab a bite before we head into town.”
Downstairs, there was no trace of the event of the prior two days, the whip maker guests returned to wherever they came from, the event attendees presumably back at their day jobs.
Something was already going on in the dungeon, to judge from the sound of whips cracking and the occasional breathy cry. A vacuum cleaner was being used in the living room, and two of the slave trainees were on their knees in the front hall, buckets of sudsy water beside them, wet rags in their hands.
Stepping around them, Beau and Lia made their way past the empty dining room to the kitchen. It was late enough that everyone seemed to have already had their breakfast and gone their various ways.
Mason stood in front of the huge gas range adding various spices to a large pot. Lucia and Danielle were working at a counter doing something with rolling pins and dough, naked save for their aprons. As they entered the kitchen, Lucia looked up. “Good morning, Master Beau,” she said sweetly.
“Good morning, Lucia,” he replied.
Lucia shifted her gaze then to Lia, lifting a single brow in apparent question. They did that thing women do, sharing a silent, telepathic communication that ended in an exchange of smiles.
Mason turned from the stove, his gaze sliding over Lia to land on Beau. “Morning,” he said in his deep, rumbly voice. “You’re a little late but there are still some warm biscuits and rashers of bacon in the oven, as well as some fresh fruit there on the counter. Juice and yogurt in the fridge. Coffee’s still hot.”
“Thanks,” Beau replied.
While he poured himself a mug of coffee and helped himself to a biscuit, Lia piled her plate with two biscuits which she slathered with butter and jam. She also took four pieces of bacon and a bowl of fresh berries. She added more cream than coffee to her mug, along with several heaping spoons of sugar.
