lips, placing them toward the front of her p*ssy
, where the inner pieces would bump her clit and the decorative tassels would be more obvious, drawing everyone’s attention to her sex.
“Walk. I need to make sure they won’t fall off.”
Once he was satisfied they wouldn’t slip off her p*ssy
lips, he motioned towards the wardrobe. “See if there’s a robe in there. I want you to put it on.”
She frowned before obeying, flicking through the robes, bypassing terrycloth, kimono-style, and sheer black, selecting a long, white satin one. He was slightly surprised by her choice—it was a rather romantic, dramatic garment.
Beth slid it on, the white a lovely contrast to her tan skin, and he no longer doubted her selection.
He crooked his finger. When she stopped beside the bed, he pinched a fold of the smooth fabric and rubbed it against her clamped nipples. She jumped, then arched her back.
“Now I want you, my lovely Beth…”
He reached between her legs, flicking the tassels, then pinching the clamps together.
“…to go get us breakfast.”
Her eyes popped open and her lips parted, as if she would protest. He waited, trying to hide his smile. She bared her teeth at him and he laughed.
“I’m hungry. We didn’t eat dinner. Go get food.”
“Yes, Master. What do you like to eat?”
“Meat.”
“Turkey bacon?”
“What? No! Real bacon. Sausage.”
Her eyebrows climbed as she looked at him, as if trying to figure out how he got away with eating that. The damned woman was making him feel defensive. “I run.”
“Ah. That explains the tan.”
“What?”
“Your arms are darker than your chest.”
Was it that noticeable? “Er, yes.”
Beth turned to leave, closing the robe and belting it in place.
“Beth.”
She stopped and turned back.
“You can wear the robe closed on the way to the dining room, but when you get there, untie it. Make sure everyone can see your clamps.”
Her eyes lowered and he could almost see her submission falling over her. There were some women who needed a constant level of domination and couldn’t handle shifting dynamics. Clearly Beth could, which James was glad of. He didn’t want to spend unnecessary energy making sure he was always in “Dom mode.”
Beth returned ten minutes later, the robe open, exposing her naked body. Part of him wished he’d gone with her, wished he could have seen the admiring gazes she’d no doubt gotten. The tassels on her p*ssy
clattered together cheerfully as she brought over a tray, placing it on the bed.
“Join me.”
She sat cross-legged, the tray between them. Her plate held an egg white veggie omelet and fruit. His had a California omelet, three strips of bacon, sausage, and one strawberry.
“Is this your attempt to make sure I get some fruit?” He held up the berry.
“There’s vegetables in the omelet, too.”
“Ugh. Vegetables.”
“I hope you’re joking.” She frowned at him.
“I am. I’ll even eat this strawberry.” He bit the tip off, then reached over and rubbed it against her nipples, smearing them and the clamps with the pink juice.
Beth’s head dropped back. “If this is what it takes, I’m willing to sacrifice myself to make sure you eat healthily.”
James roared with laughter. The rest of breakfast was punctuated by laughter as they teased each other about their eating habits, sexual play as he licked her nipples clean, then pretended to get his fork tangled in the nipple clamp chains, tugging them until she was panting.
When their plates were finally empty, James realized they’d been sitting there enjoying one another’s company for nearly two hours. With a start he realized this felt more like a lazy Sunday morning with a girlfriend than the precursor to a day of D/s play.
“Get rid of the tray.” The command came out harsher than he’d meant it to and she recoiled slightly, eyes wide. James softened his tone, but turned away from her, getting off the bed. “If I’m not here when you get back, take off the clamps and clean them, then put them away.”
“Yes, Master.”
Without another word he left, ignoring the voice in his head that said he should just stay in bed with her, talking and f*ck
ing. They had a list, and it was time for the next item.
*****
Beth had a fairly good idea what was going to happen next. She’d returned to the playroom to find Master James gone. Assuming a kneeling position near the cold fireplace, she looked up when the door opened, only to see a woman entering. The sub bustled over, holding out a cloth tape. Once she’d taken Beth’s torso measurements, she left.
Another half hour passed before the door opened. This time it was Master James, and she was not surprised to see the corset he held under one arm, though the plastic bucket he carried was a bit more puzzling.
Once he spotted her, he detoured to the seating area by the fireplace, easing into one of the wide wingback leather chairs.
“Are you ready for our next scene?”
“Of course, Master.”