part0008

The Master of Masters never missed anything.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to brace herself for the first stroke. The telltale sound of leather hitting flesh as Master Marshall had tested the implement had given the game away, and she knew she was about to get a strap of some kind.

She jumped as she felt something touch her, then relaxed as she realized it was Master Marshall running a practiced hand over her butt.

“Master Landon, how many strokes do you think she deserves for being so rude to you?”

Nayla’s face grew hot as she imagined Master Landon’s look of concentration while he thought about it. He really was attractive; long, shaggy black hair, deep-set brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed goatee. Once she’d been made aware that he was Master Sam’s brother, the resemblance had been obvious.

“Three,” Master Landon said.

Christ , she thought. He’d been looking at her file when she’d come in and must know she was no newbie. If he’d picked such a low number, this implement must be worse than—

An excruciatingly loud thwap reached her ears, obliterating her train of thought and sending a blaze of stinging pain scorching across both her ass-cheeks.

Nayla reacted instinctively, letting out a half-gurgle, half-groan of pain as she tried simultaneously to straighten up and stamp her feet. Master Landon’s iron grip prevented the former, and the way she was tugged taut against the desk, the latter.

“I’m waiting, Nayla,” Master Marshall said coolly.

She struggled to compose herself, taking several rapid breaths before replying, “One, thank you, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

The second hit even harder than the first. The strap was wide; it covered her entire butt in a single stroke, and the renewed, heightened sting made goosebumps break out over her arms. Nayla let out a tortured hiss, her toes scrabbling against the rug as she tried to kick away the pain.

“Two, thank you, Sir,” she managed at length.

“One more to go—”

“—Before we get to the second part of your punishment,” Master Marshall finished, and Nayla had barely even begun to process that awful tidbit of information before another blaze of fire scorched her hot, stinging skin.

A garbled howl left her throat, the noise felt like it had come right out of her chest, and it was a moment before she realized Master Landon was whispering softly to her, his fingers warm on her wrists.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well…”

Raising her head, she met his dark, intent eyes and a bolt of lust shot straight through her core at the naked desire in his expression.

“Three, thank you, Sir,” she said breathlessly, her heart pounding.

“That was for being rude to Master Landon by not returning his greeting,” Master Marshall said, running a fingertip across one raw buttock and making her gasp. “Now it’s time to teach you that I don’t much care for being questioned, interrupted, or doubted. Lie on the desk, on your back.”

Nayla didn’t miss the flash of surprise in Master Landon’s expression. He obviously had no idea what was coming next, either.

Somehow, that wasn’t a very comforting thought.

Landon released her wrists and she straightened up, slowly, before turning around. Master Marshall really was a sadist, she mused. In order to lie on her back, she would have to sit on the desk first. On her raw, still-stinging ass.

“Up you get,” Master Marshall said. “I haven’t got all day. Master Landon, please stay there.”

Suddenly desperate to get it over with as quickly as possible, Nayla pulled herself up onto the desk and lay back, closing her eyes as soon as she saw Master Landon looming above her. The light from the windows was behind him so she couldn’t see his expression.

She let out a squeak of dismay as someone—presumably Master Marshall—took hold of her ankles and lifted her legs into the air, bending them back until her feet were hovering above her chest. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and in this hopelessly exposed position, Master Marshall could see everything.

Everything .

“Please be so kind and hold her in place for me,” Master Marshall said, and the next moment, Master Landon’s warm fingers closed around her ankles, tugging her legs back even further until she was basically folded in half.

Her face was flaming even as the cool air whispered over her bare pussy, a humiliating reminder of how wet she was.

“I do love the diaper position,” Master Marshall said matter-of-factly, and Nayla let out a groan. “I take it you don’t?” There was a trace of amusement in his voice.

Casting about for something to say and not thinking of anything, she was grateful when he resumed speaking without waiting for a reply.

“I think another three will do. On the backs of your thighs. Make sure she keeps those legs closed, Master Landon.”

The first searing thwap of thick, sturdy leather against her sensitive flesh made Nayla almost levitate off the desk. She could take a lot of punishment on her ass. On her thighs? Not so much.

There was a long pause, during which she struggled to regain her breath and wondered how she could still be so acutely aware of Landon’s fingers around her ankles even when it felt like Master Marshall had poured gasoline over her skin and set it alight.

“I’m waiting,” Marshall said at length, and she realized with a jolt that she was obviously meant to count these strokes, too.

“One, thank you, Sir,” she whispered, gripping the edge of the desk for dear life so as not to cup her stinging flesh protectively.

“Don’t make me wait so long next time,” he said sternly, and the second stroke landed in exactly the same place as the first, painting a new stripe of scorching pain across the backs of her thighs.

“Ow! Owowowowow,” she shrieked, trying in vain to kick the pain away.

“Wrong answer,” Master Marshall said. “Let’s try that again.”

He aimed the strap a touch lower the next time, sending a new wave of searing agony across her sit-spots. “Two, thank you, Sir!” The words came out in a rush along with her expelled breath, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mind beginning to race.

It was all his fault. Fucking Kurt, fucking standing her up. If he hadn’t, she’d be in the Dungeon right now, in the right headspace, settling into one of their familiar sessions before going upstairs and getting her brains fucked out. Instead, she was lying—humiliatingly exposed—on Master Marshall’s desk with a complete stranger holding her legs above her head. She wasn’t in the headspace, this wasn’t turning her on, it was fucking hurting now, and she was just so…

Thwap! The final stroke of unforgiving leather whapped against her flesh hardest of all, and it caught her pussy lips as well as her already stinging ass, sending a new bite of pain right through her sex.

“Three, thank—” Her words were interrupted by the sob which had been building in her chest for some time and, to her absolute dismay, Nayla burst into tears.

How could Kurt have done that to her?

She was vaguely aware of her ankles being released and herself being helped gently off the desk, and the next moment, her tears—and runny nose—were soaking Master Marshall’s crisp shirt. “Let it out,” he murmured, stroking her back. “Master Landon, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“No problem, I’ll take over,” came the reply, and Nayla was transferred into another set of arms and given a whole new shirt to soak.

“Hush, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Master Landon crooned, stroking the back of her head as if she were a precious, fragile pet.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m just so angry with him!”

“I know. It was a bastard thing to do.” Master Landon was still stroking her hair with one hand, while the other huge palm slid down her back. Next moment, he had scooped her up, and she found herself cradled in his powerful arms. “I’ll take it from here,” he told Marshall over her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut again as they moved toward the door.

The moment they left the office and she heard the excited chatter of other guests, it was like a switch was flipped in Nayla. She was suddenly acutely aware of her surroundings, as well as her state of undress—she never wore panties with her slave girl costume—and the way she was being carried meant anybody who passed them would be given an eyeful of not only her pink, sore backside and thighs, but also her pussy. Her tears still drying on her cheeks, she looked up at Landon and forced a smile. “You can put me down now, thanks. I feel better.”

Ignoring her request, he strode on. “What room number are you in?”

“Eleven-eleven. Please, put me down now. I promise you I’m fine.”

“Sweetheart, you’re anything but.” Still cradling her close to his chest, he strode on.

Nayla hid her flaming face in his shirt as they passed a group of people. “All right, you can come to my room and make sure I’m okay, but please, Sir, let me walk. I’m perfectly capable of walking!”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, “but I prefer to carry you right now.”

“Why?” She was incredulous. Yes, he was strong, but she wasn’t exactly tiny. She had plenty of curves and surely his arms must be tiring by now.

“Don’t question me,” he said brusquely.

As he strode into the wing reserved for the guests enrolled in the Dungeon program, Nayla considered putting up more of a fight but, truth be told, she was exhausted. The events of the past couple of days were obviously catching up with her—not to mention the whole reason she’d come to the Castle was because she was in dire need of some R&R to counteract her stressful job. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, she let herself go limp and heavy in his arms. She wouldn’t struggle but she wouldn’t make it easy for him, either.

Fine, let him put his back out if he wants to , she thought savagely, then let out a yelp as they rounded a corner and her foot scraped against the wall.

“Sorry,” Landon said.

He didn’t sound sorry at all. Hearing the voices of more guests approaching, Nayla once again buried her face in his shirt, conscious for the first time of how good he smelled: tangy, masculine aftershave with notes of Oud, soap, and a hint of fresh sweat. She could feel the heat of his skin through his starched white shirt.

“Eleven-eleven. Here we are.” The lock clicked and they entered her room where, finally, he set her down.

Standing in front of him, wobbling slightly on her heels, she looked up until their eyes met.

“How did you get in here without my key?” she whispered.

He gave her a disarming wink. “Daddy magic.”

He cleared his throat. “House Masters have a master key,” he said.

She held his gaze a fraction longer, then turned away from him with a quiet, “Oh. Of course.”

He watched her as she made her way to her purse, then fumbled around for something before digging out her phone. “I think you need a nice, hot bath,” he said.

She was staring at the screen, her brow furrowed. “Fuck.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing.” She sighed. “Work. Look, I very much appreciate being… escorted back to my room, and thank you for comforting me earlier, but I really am fine now. I’m fully able to run myself a bath. I’m sure you have other things to do.”

“Actually, I don’t,” he said. “I was assigned to you for the next six days. Which means I get to spend that time with you.”

“Surely not the whole time?”

He shrugged. “As much time as you want. As much time as you need.”

“What I need right now is to answer these emails,” she muttered, giving him a delicious view of her still-pink ass as she scrambled over the bed toward her suitcase.

“You brought your laptop?” he said incredulously as she slid a brightly colored MacBook out from under some clothing.

“I don’t go anywhere without it, or my phone,” she said, carting it back to the bed, taking off her sandals, and settling herself back against the cushions before opening the lid. “Sorry, but it’s urgent.”

“What do you do?”

“Accountant.”

That threw Landon for a loop. She didn’t look like any accountant he had ever seen. Then again, he supposed that was the whole point of the Castle… and the costumes. “What kind of emergency could you possibly have that can’t wait until next week?” he said.

Nayla let out a frustrated sigh and looked up from her computer. “I don’t mean to be rude, Sir, but I won’t be able to relax unless I’ve sorted this out. I understand we’ve been assigned to each other, and you seem like a nice guy, so I’m happy to spend some time with you later on, but right now, I’d really like you to leave.”

Landon stared at her, unsure whether he’d heard correctly. “You’re asking me to leave?” he said.

“Please. I don’t know, maybe we can meet up for dinner tonight.”

There was a long, long pause, during which Landon forced himself to rein in his mounting temper. “You’re a workaholic.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” she said, a touch too defensively. “I just… this is important! Christ, I could have already responded to this client in the time we’ve spent arguing.”

Clenching his fists and taking a deep breath, Landon marched into the adjoining bathroom and started to fill the tub. Once the water was pouring out of the faucet, he gripped the edge of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror.

They had only just met.

She was a paying guest.

She wasn’t his submissive, nor had she ever agreed to submit to him.

And she obviously took her job very seriously. For all he knew, she had to. For all he knew, this email was life-or-death. Then again, she wasn’t a heart surgeon. How life-or-death could anything ever be in accounting? Or via email, for that matter?

Tread carefully , he told himself. As badly as he wanted to march back into the bedroom, yank her over his lap, and spank her until she was sobbing and promising to obey him, he had to take things slowly.

He let his thoughts run on. This was the Castle. She wasn’t wearing a white bracelet, which meant she wasn’t a Top of any kind. This wasn’t her first visit, either, meaning she had decided to come back even knowing the rules with regards to accessing modern technology on Castle grounds. Surely she and Kurt hadn’t intended to spend their entire stay in their room—if that were the case, it would have been much cheaper for them to just book a nice hotel for a week.

Seeing the vast bath wasn’t even a quarter full so he still had plenty of time, he went back to the bedroom. “Why did you come here?” he said casually, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms.

“Huh?” She was still engrossed in whatever was displayed on her laptop screen.

“The Castle. Why come here at all when you have to work?”

She looked up at him, the irritation plain on her pretty face. “I wasn’t meant to have to work. I came here to… play. And…” She trailed off.

“And?”

“To have sex.” She turned the most adorable shade of pink.

“That’s it?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it can be pretty good if you do it right,” she shot back.

Landon was unimpressed. “You know what I mean.”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

“You could do that in pretty much any standard hotel. Without the technology restrictions.” He was gratified to see the pink on her cheeks turn a shade darker. Gotcha.

“I like it here,” she said, a touch too defensively. “I like the atmosphere, the people, the costumes…” She stared at him as if really looking at him for the first time. “What are you meant to be, anyway?” she added, indicating his white shirt, pale gray dress slacks and polished shoes.

“A Daddy Dom,” he said.

“But you’re wearing a black bracelet.”

“I am. For you. I took the Ageplay one off.”

“Oh.” There was a pause, but her expression had softened. “I have to admit, I never understood the appeal of that. Adults running around pretending to be children. To each his own, and all that, but I can say it’s definitely not for me. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

She shook her head, her coppery curls moving sexily around her bare shoulders. God, she was pretty, he found himself thinking. “Don’t knock what you haven’t tried,” he said instead. Then, injecting some sternness into his voice, “You have ten minutes to finish whatever it is you’re doing. Then you’re going to have a nice, relaxing bath. How’s your ass?”

As if to test it, she shifted on the bed. “Fine. A bit sore, but I’ve taken more. A lot more.”

“I’m going to inspect it before your bath, anyway.”

Her big green eyes widened as she stared at him.

“What?” he said, feeling the corners of his lips lift. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all before.” Then, more seriously, “Ten minutes, starting now.” As he headed back into the ensuite to check on the water level, he once again heard the furious clacking of keys on her laptop, and sighed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she had come to the Castle to try and have a break from what was obviously a demanding job. She just didn’t want to admit it.

At least, not yet.

Adding some fragrant oil to the water, he rolled up his sleeve and swished it around. The temperature was perfect.

As he waited, he thought about the session earlier, in Marshall’s office. The way she’d tried to kick away the sting of the strap despite his iron hold on her. The breathless, sexy way she’d thanked Marshall after each stroke. Landon had been rock hard the entire time. And then the tears had started, and instead of wanting to fuck her, his protective side had come to the fore, and comforting her had become his top priority.

It had been obvious how, the moment they’d left Marshall’s office, she’d suddenly snapped back to reality, as if the tears hadn’t even been real—even though he knew they had. This girl had serious problems with letting go; he’d realized that almost immediately. He wondered why, and whether he’d be able to make any progress on that front in the short time they had together.

There was only one way to find out. Pushing his hair back from his forehead, Landon shut off the faucet and went to the doorway.

Nayla was still engrossed in her laptop.

“Ten minutes are up,” Landon said. “Turn it off, put it away, and then it’s bath time.” He held his breath, wondering whether she’d refuse him. Instead, she let out a sigh, shut the lid, clambered off the bed and shoved the MacBook back into her suitcase before moving towards him with a fluid grace.

She had a stunning body, he mused as he watched her. Her tits were barely concealed beneath the sheer material of her slave dress, the nipples already beaded into hard points. Her waist dipped in before curving out to round hips, her full thighs tapered down to small, pretty feet.

“Dress off,” he said, hoping she couldn’t hear the arousal in his voice.

Nayla tugged the costume over her head, flinging it aside before shaking her curls back into place.

“Turn around and bend over.”

He had to suppress a groan as he got his first good look at her bare ass. Her milky skin was still pink where Marshall’s strap had done its work; the stripes on her upper thighs were a shade darker than those on her butt.

“All right,” he said, “get into the tub.” He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn’t his girl, he had to tread carefully, and if he spent any more time examining her naked body closely, the temptation would be too much.

She let out a hiss as her ass hit the water, and Landon didn’t conceal his grin. “Sore?”

“A little.” She gave him a shy smile.

Warm or hot water on a sore butt always stung at first. Landon felt his cock stir. “You’ll feel better in a minute,” he said gruffly.

She leaned back and let out a little contented sigh. “This feels nice. The temperature is perfect.”

You’re perfect , he found himself thinking. Where did that come from? Mentally shaking himself, he sat down on the corner of the huge bath and cleared his throat. “I think it’s time you and I had a little talk,” he said.