Svetlana spent lots of time with me, her presence increasingly catching my attention. I didn't know what else was being done to me, but as she spoke, her words seemed to soak into my mind, my previous life becoming more and more hazy. There was something about her, the way she spoke and the way her clothes both teased and hid her voluptuous curves that left me wanting her.
More importantly to me, was that I wanted to please her. Not necessarily sexually, but to do anything she wanted of me. Three days after she brought me into the house, after lunch, she set her spoon aside and looked at me with her head cocked and her eyes evaluating me. "You know Felix, you can’t lie around the house all day. Come, let's change clothes and use the fitness center. I won’t have you getting lazy.”
I don't know why, but I pushed myself that workout. Svetlana joined me. She went through a yoga routine that left my heart thudding even harder than my workout, and despite my trying to fight it, my cock grew stiff in the shorts I'd been provided with. She noticed and smirked, looking up at me and licking her lips suggestively. "You need to do your workout, my pet."
"Yes Mistress," I answered, a surge of pleasure going through me as I said the words. I don't know why I said them, but as soon as they left my lips I knew they were the right ones to say, and I wanted to say them again. I started my workout and lifted hard, going from the barbell to the gymnastic rings and overhead bar, pushing myself as I saw her eyes glowing with approval as I lowered myself into an Iron Cross.
At the end, both of our bodies were coated in sweat, her skin glistening as she came over to me. Her tight top showed the deep valley between her beautiful breasts, and I couldn't help but reach for her. "No, my pet," she purred. "Hands at your side."
"Yes Mistress," I immediately said, obeying. It was so good to obey her, the pleasure was almost as good as sex. The idea of sex with her, though, that was something greater than I could ever hope to have the chance to feel. She saw it in my eyes, and she smiled and stood on her tiptoes, kissing me briefly on the cheek. "Thank you."
She patted my chest and pointed toward the door with her chin. "Now, go take a shower and you can join me for dinner."
In the shower, the warm water did nothing to alleviate my arousal, my cock standing stiff and hard from my body. Closing my eyes, my mind flooded with images of Svetlana, the poses she'd held in her yoga routine. It’d been erotic torture, the way her hips had been thrust into the air, her long, lean legs slightly spread, and her breasts . . .
I reached down, taking my cock in my right hand, pumping slowly as images filtered through my mind and the water washed over my body. In my mind, I heard Svetlana groan as she pushed herself into a newer, more difficult stretch, the twinkle in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder to see me staring.
I pumped faster and faster, thinking of my Mistress and what I wanted to do for her. I wanted to feel her body with my hands, to trail my lips over her skin and hear her moan my name, her pet, over and over as I lit her nerves on fire.
In my fantasy, she called my name over and over and my cock throbbed in my fist. Sounds came to my mind, sighs and moans of pleasure from Mistress while in the background, a guitar played. The guitar was off-putting, something from another part of my life, but that couldn't be as important as my Mistress in front of me, and the rising pleasure in my cock.
Chapter 30
Jordan
The skies were an out of place sapphire blue as we gathered in the vineyard for Felix's memorial ceremony. Francois, whose back was still tender and covered with bandages, held himself stiffly in his black silk shirt and tie. Charani and Syeira were both in all black, Syeira wearing a veil over her face. The other family leaders were all in suits, their faces somber.
In the middle of the circle, two photos of Felix were set up on top of a pyre that would eventually be lit. Both photos were taken well before I met him, but there was still the same smile, the same serious look in his eyes sitting in contrast above it.
"Thank you," Francois said, speaking in French so that I could understand enough to get the gist. He’d agreed that morning that when it was my turn to speak, he would translate into Romani for everyone. The few family members who didn't understand French were assisted by others who did. "We're gathered here today to remember Felix Gudada Hardy, our former leader. To me, he was more than a leader, he was my partner . . . he was my friend. The memories I have of him, on this property and others, of growing up . . .”
Francois's voice faltered and he cleared his throat before continuing. "My relationship with him wasn't perfect. We fought, we disagreed, we had our spats. We were brothers. What brothers don't have spats? But I knew that whatever happened, Felix would be there for me. If I had trouble, he'd have my back. He was a great man, and I can only hope I can live up to his example."