She has her bath, returning an hour or so later scented of lavender and rose. We drink, but not too much. We eat, sharing Charlotte’s favourite treats; cheese, bread, olives, strawberries and cream. She sits on the rug by the fire, not hitting the food the way she normally does, but nonetheless, she eats.

Then she sits, inert, leaning back against my legs as I stroke her hair.

Over her head, James cocks a brow to me, tilts his head. I nod.

He rises, takes Charlotte’s hand and pulls her upright, then kisses the fingers. “You are going to go downstairs now, undress and wait for us. Michael and I will join you in a few minutes…” She hesitates… “And the next words I expect to hear from you are ‘Yes, Master’.”

She bows her head. “Yes, Master.”

“Good.” I pass her a glass of Rioja… “Now, drink your wine… And I want you to have another glass after that.”

*****

Downstairs, in the basement, James’ ‘playroom’, the demesnes of a Master, she’s waiting for us. As he instructed, she’s naked, kneeling, head lowered and the glass she took down with her, empty.

She’s goosing a little. The heating hasn’t quite dispelled the chill yet, but that won’t matter. With what James has in mind, I’m sure she’ll soon be warm.

And the hearth glows; old logs dropping to embers, new logs flickering new flames. The light shimmers gold and amber. Candles reinforce the honeyed glimmer, sending dancing shadows over wall and arch.

James gestures me towards her and then to a ceiling hook. “Charlotte, stand up.”

She rises, chewing her lip, trembling slightly…

Cold?

… Or nervous?

Stepping close, I wrap arms around her, holding her against myself, giving her the heat of my body. One hand winding into her hair, with the other I caress the smooth skin of her back and shoulders, “Shhh… It’s alright. Calm down.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“Remember your safety words. You may need them.”

Her eyes dart. “Is he angry?

You’ve done nothing to be punished for. But he is very concerned

“What then?”

How to say this?

you out of yourself, then we’ll both bring you

a

cheek. “You can always say ‘No.’ Do

lace my

“Are you sure?”

I’m sure. You trust James, don’t

“Yes, I do.”

now. Let him take

her to where James waits, a flogger in one hand, swishing

know him, he might appear severe, frightening even,

… the pity…

lips to hers before, loudly enough for her to hear

“Cuffs will be fine.”

him to the racks,

murmurs, “And she’ll be more

I told her

are a snug fit to her wrists; a carabiner and a length of rope connect her to the hook, restraining

check her colour; hands, fingers, face, then casting across

waist, her breasts. Muscles tremble and quiver. And she smells cool, with no scent of arousal. Drifting fingers between her thighs I test her, then “I’ll just be a

the cupboard where I keep a store of massage oils. Passing James, I murmur, ‘Dry.’

oil on my palms and I run my hands over her again; seducing her, coaxing her arousal. My hands on her waist, my fingers almost encircle her as I work her spine with my thumbs. Then slipping upwards; her ribs, her muscles, her shoulders; gradually I ease her, rubbing in, digging into the tension knotted there, making her feel me;

over the back of a seat. His tie is next. Tugging at the knot, he loosens it,

her neck. “You’re so beautiful. I never forget how beautiful you are. Or that you are my wife. Or that I love

her. My hands cupping and

time, removes his cuff-links, again setting them to one side, then unbuttons his shirt and kicks off his shoes. Barefoot now, stripped to the

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