Reconciliation [Prometheus in Chains 5] (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

“Please, Master Llewellyn. Please it has been so long. Please fuck me!”

He smiled. He was aware he was a strict Master and fiendish in his application of punishments for any infraction but conversely generous with praise and pleasure for any slave who pleased him and followed his dictates. She held herself still and took all the stimulation he offered with his talented fingers. Then he lowered his mouth to her nipples, and he smiled as she almost lost her control. He knew that the pull of his mouth, as he suckled her nipples, and the electric jolt shooting to her cunt, making her wet and needy, had always been a great test of her ability to control herself. He alternated between her breasts and drove her to the edge of her control again and again, but she didn’t disappoint him. She managed to take it all and maintain her stillness.
What a treasure she is!

“What do you want, my gloria?” he teased.

“Fuck me, Master Llewellyn. Eat my pussy please. I need to come!” she pleaded.

Finally, standing with her in his arms, he crossed to the bed and tossed her onto it. Leaving her legs dangling off the end, he knelt on the floor between her legs, parted her thighs, and lowered his mouth to her pussy. She’d always loved this and said her world centred on him and the pleasure he gave her. So he parted her labia with his fingers, lowered his face to inhale her scent, and said, “Ah!” driving her to the edge of sanity.

“Yes, Master Llewellyn. More, Master. I love your mouth on my cunt!”

He loved the way she strove to keep still. He licked her pussy from her entrance to her clit and back up either side of the sensitive little pearl but never touching it. She moaned and sighed. He loved to hear the noises she made. Movement he didn’t permit, but sighs, moans, and screams of pleasure were music to his ears, and she’d always indulged him to the top of his bent. Finally, when she was trembling with the effort to keep still, he suckled on her clit, and she exploded. Her orgasm was beautiful to behold. She arched her back as it flowed along her limbs, and she convulsed, screaming, “
MasterLlewellyn!
”
in her pleasure. He wanted more from her and for her, so he continued to suckle her clit, lashing it with his tongue and stabbing his tongue in and out of her pussy. Then he pumped his fingers in and out of her, stroking deep inside her and feeling the convulsive clenching of her muscles as the aftershocks caused them to spasm. Under his continued stimulation, her second orgasm took her and overwhelmed her. Her limbs shook and trembled.

He lifted her up in his strong arms and put her on his lap, holding her close to his chest as she came down. He kissed her tenderly and helped her into the bathroom. He sat her on a stool and filled the bath with very warm water and some of the bath gel provided.

He loved this aftercare, and he lavished attention on her, gently washing her all over. He got into the bath with her and allowed her to wash him. He lay down on his back, his head resting on a cushion, his arms along the sides, and his legs splayed. He watched in fascination as she knelt between his legs, took a soapy cloth, and gently washed his chest, torso, each huge leg, and finally his cock and balls. Then she rinsed off the bubbles, taking her time over his cock with the tip of the dragon’s tail tattooed on it. She traced her fingers lovingly over the dragon’s tail.

“You’re so beautiful, Master Llewellyn, so is this dragon. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve dreamed about you often.” She bent and gently kissed him on the lips. “I love bathing with you. I love to wash your cock and your balls.” She took her time and soaped, washed, and rinsed, gently caressing him as she spoke. His cock swelled and grew stiff. His eyes were fixed on her face, then suddenly he took her hands, turned her around and placed them on the sides of the bath, kneeling behind her.

“Hold tight and don’t let go! I want to fuck your pussy now!”

She still remembered what was required of her. She bent forward and he surged forward, seating himself long, thick, and rigid in her cunt. She moaned as he thrust ruthlessly into her then slowly pumped in and out, moving the angle from time to time to give her more pleasure and grinding himself against her G-spot. He drove her higher and higher, and he noted she rippled and squeezed the muscles of her cunt in that way she had, which she knew he loved.

“Fuck. I missed that, gloria. Nobody I know can squeeze my cock like you do!”

He growled his appreciation, gripping her ample hips even tighter. He picked up the pace and pushed them both ever onward to the shattering climax that awaited them. At last, he released one hip, bent forward, pushing his thick fingers into her, and stroking and pressing her clit he said, “Come now!” Come she did, as he pumped in and out, his hips bucking as he sought his own release.

He lay back in the bath taking her with him, still joined and sated. He ran his hands all over her body, soothing her and whispering his approval in her ear.

“You have the most beautiful and talented pussy, my little gloria.”

Gloria couldn’t believe what had just happened. She hadn’t seen him for five long years, then he’d crooked his finger, and she’d submitted as simple as that. All his training had come back, and she’d done what she knew he always liked. Then, she sighed contentedly, thinking that if this was all she was going to get this time, it had been worth it. It was a long time since she’d been so thoroughly fucked. He was long and thick and a considerate lover, even if very demanding. She’d enjoyed every minute of it, bittersweet though it might be.

Again she thought of how they had parted, when Master Llewellyn had had to return to Wales when a friend of his called in a favour. He went to teach in the BDSM club his friend was setting up. He’d been pressing Llewellyn for a long time, who, in the end felt he couldn’t refuse any longer. Her mother was ill, and she couldn’t leave her, so Llewellyn had uncollared her. She had been miserable and lost for months. She’d been adrift. Her life and purpose had been amputated. His protocols and care, her service to him, and the abdication of her will had given meaning, purpose, and worth to her life. They’d hardly ever been apart before, and, if forced by circumstances beyond their control to spend a few days or so apart, he had required her morning ritual to be performed and confirmation of it in an e-mail. He liked her to shower, then clean and tidy the bathroom, and make the bed. Her breakfast was usually cereal, but he liked her to eat fruit in season. He required her to have a filling breakfast, saying she needed nourishment to sustain her until her lunch. He’d consulted over her choice of clothes for work. He was perfectly able to trust she would dress only to please him, but nevertheless, she consulted him, happy to offer this affirmation to please her Master. Her journal was kept up to date online so he could read it every day. He’d send it back with appropriate comments, and she found that comforting. She completed her daily chores and would carry the laptop with the camera around the house, so he could approve. She put the ticks on her checklist for him under his direction and made notes of what he wanted if anything needed to be redone.

When he was no longer there and she had to decide it all for herself, she felt rudderless and worthless. She had no loving Dom to offer her service to, or to check she was on course and correct her or guide her if she faltered. It was all her own responsibility. It had taken her many long, painful months to get herself to the point where she could function independently and not constantly mourn his loss.

Now he was back and seemed to want to take up where they had left off, but for how long? Could she risk going through it all again?
What if he leaves me again?
She’d spent months outside the BDSM world where she felt most at home. It had taken an immense amount of courage to go back into it and to go to Davy Jones’s Locker, the club she used to go to with Master Llewellyn. Master Prometheus had met her there and taken her to his own new club. He’d been sympathetic and supportive. She didn’t know who else to turn to now, so she resolved to seek an audience with him and ask his advice to see if he had any insight to offer.

The Gregorian chant, playing through the club speakers, had given way to Cream’s “White Room.” Master Prometheus’s favourite track was always played to indicate the club was closing. “Cariad bach, I will see you home,” Master Llewellyn said.

When Gloria came out of the locker room, he was waiting. When she had gone in to get her coat, all eyes were on her. They were consumed by curiosity. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Gemma, and that was all she said.

Master Llewellyn had a Jaguar XJ Ultimate in celestial black metallic with gray leather upholstery. He held the door for her, fastened her seat belt and drove her home. The car engine was so quiet she couldn’t hear it, and the soft luxury of her seat was seductive. When they reached her flat, he got out, opened the door, and helped her out, then he locked the door of the car and held out his hand for her key. He opened her door and let her in, following her inside.

“I need numbers to reach you and an up-to-date email address. Here’s my card with mine written on there. I’ll come back tomorrow, and we can talk about what we’re going to do next. I don’t want you living here, I don’t like this neighbourhood, it’s not safe!”

“Yes, Master Llewellyn,” she said as she gave him what he needed. It was useless to argue with him now. This flat was all she could afford, and she would still be living in it when he left.

“Nos da cariad.” The soft Welsh lilt in his “Good night, love,” brought tears to her eyes. He kissed her cheek and left, waiting outside until she locked the door.

She made herself a cup of tea and performed her nightly ritual. She showered, cleaned her teeth, and removed her makeup. Then, she went round the flat to check all was locked up, and no electrical items left switched on. It was bittersweet now that he was back. She’d been doing what he’d established as his preferred ritual for her, even though he had not been there for years. At first she’d rebelled and done all the things he didn’t like and none of the ones he did, but gradually she returned to the familiar and comforting routine he’d trained her to. Like tonight when they’d fucked. She’d wanted to think “made love” but dared not let herself go down that road.

She wondered if she could do this again. She’d come very near to ending her life, and she knew in her heart that if he left her again, this time she wouldn’t have the strength or courage to pick herself up and start her life again. This was her one chance of happiness, all she’d wanted and thought never to have again. Could she trust him? Even if he collared her, he had before and then had taken her collar away and released her. She needed to speak to Master Prometheus. The thoughts went round and round in her head, and no solution offered itself. Exhausted, she fell asleep.

She awoke to the ringing of the telephone and
His
voice, deep, dark, and compelling.

“You must get up now and start your routine. I’ll be there to collect you in one hour.”

“Yes, Master Llewellyn.”

She hurried out of bed, showered, had breakfast, and made her bed. She dithered over clothes but decided to wear her robe, as he’d want to decide what she’d wear. The doorbell rang, and after checking it was him, she opened the door and retreated two paces. Then she knelt and waited. He held out his right hand, and she took it in both of hers, kissed the back of his hand and sighed. She felt a tremor in his hand.
Was he as affected as she by the firm touch of her lips on his skin? Surely not.

“You need to dress. Show me!”

She took him to her wardrobe and although he was not altogether pleased by what she had available, as she’d expected, he chose a pencil skirt in dark blue, a white blouse to be left open to show off her cleavage, a dark blue cardigan and navy shoes with two inch heels as she’d none higher. He allowed a white lace balcony bra but no knickers.

When she was dressed, he inspected the flat. She didn’t have a checklist, but all was to his liking. She glowed as the familiar routines and protocols brought back memories of happier days and tried to tell herself not to get too attached to them this time. But she failed. They gave her life form and meaning and worth.

“We’re going to see Master Prometheus, who will mediate for us,” he said.

Startled, she gazed at him, amazed at how acute he was. He’d managed to read her as usual. He escorted her to his car, which was even more elegant in the daylight. Once at the club, he left her with Master Prometheus who asked her what her concerns were.

“Master Llewellyn has asked me to speak to you before he does. He thinks it may be easier for you to speak to someone other than him about your concerns and worries first. Then we will speak together before him. Do you wish to do that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well then, tell me what you want.”

“I haven’t had another permanent Master since he left. When he did I felt torn in two. I had to stay for my mother, but his going was so very hard to bear.”

“And now?”

“At first I continued with the rituals and protocols, but he wasn’t there, so they seemed to have no purpose. Then I did everything I knew he hated, but that didn’t help either. It was worse in many ways. In the end I came to accept he wasn’t coming back, so it was useless to pretend he was. He would never see my rebellion so that was useless, too. Gradually I kept the rituals and protocols that gave me most comfort and security in my new existence.”