Chapter Five

Ashley had just sat down to her computer the next morning when the doorbell rang. Special delivery, and the package was addressed to her.

With scissors she opened the box, being careful not to cut into any of the contents. Her heart filled with joy when she pulled a precious, pink and chocolate-coloured polka dot apron out of the box.

A flirtatious little ruffle ran around the edges of the skirt, and the ties were brown and pink striped. Wow, this is cute! And the fabric feels so good. She pressed the sash to her cheek. Then she saw Roger’s note.

Wear only this tonight.

Ashley blushed and hugged the new garment to her chest. He is so good to me. Gives me so much attention. I need to make something special for him tonight. Something to make up for that debacle last night. I just can’t have a repeat of that.

She racked her brain. What could they have? Hmm.

Dinner usually involved so many different food groups, and she wasn’t trusting that crazy crockpot again. Maybe she’d go back to dessert. She and Roger each had a sweet tooth. What did they love?

She remembered they had shared a heavenly French Silk pie on their first date. She’d try that. Women were always making pies on TV, it couldn’t be that complicated.

Subsequent to finishing a few work tasks, Ashley found a recipe online and printed it out. She made a list then went to the market to purchase everything she needed for the pie. She realised she was humming while she unloaded the groceries. Maybe I have a domestic side after all.

First, she had to make the crust. Ashley, the proud new owner of a rolling pin, got her surface prepped and pulled out the pastry sheets the recipe called for. They were frozen solid. The recipe said for them to sit out for a few minutes to thaw.

Aha! This is usually the time I would go check email and leave them here too long. Think I’ll do something else instead. She read through the recipe a few times, took care of a few dirty dishes then made a quick trip to check some laundry. Once the pastry sheets had sat out for the right amount of time, she rolled them into one big sheet. She used her pie plate to cut around and remove the excess dough.

Lifting and plopping the dough into the pie pan was easy enough, even if it made her heart skip a beat. What if it all falls apart? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But it landed well in the pan, and she was able to pinch the sides down just like the directions said.

She set the pie plate into the preheated oven to bake then turned her attention to the filling. She grinned. Now for the yummy part!

Once she’d dumped all the ingredients into the big stainless bowl, she turned on the mixer. Droplets of batter splattered on the wall. Oops! Ashley took better control of her new kitchen machine, turning it down a notch. Medium speed seemed to work better, less splatter, but it still mixed the ingredients at a frenetic pace.

The oven timer sounded. Ashley set the mixer down and put on her new oven mitts. They were like big gloves, making her feel official. After opening the door to the oven, she took a step back.

What was that?

Her pie crust was sky high!

It looked like a dome. Huh?

Instead of cooking down in the pan, it had made a huge poof of a thing. What in the world? The crisp, warm scent of the crust wafted under her nose, cueing her brain to remove it from the oven before it burned.

Whirling around to set it on the warming racks she had purchased, tears began to form in her eyes.

Perhaps it will sink down…she tried to be hopeful.

But she was beside herself.

She slinked over to the other counter where the chocolate concoction sat. With a frown on her face, she dipped a finger into the batter then sucked it between her lips. Sometimes chocolate helps. She sniffled.

The instant her tongue touched the dark brown substance, it rebelled. Ashley stood over the sink spitting out the revolting stuff.

What’s wrong with it? It tastes disgusting! So bitter…

“I’m such a failure,” Ashley said, bursting into tears. She studied the recipe through blurred eyes.

What happened? Tossing the paper down, she ran into the bedroom and threw herself on the bed. Her body racked with sobs.

I’m good at most everything I try. Why can’t I get this cooking thing right? This was an unfamiliar place for her to be in.

Ashley had made good grades in school, and had been above average at sports. She’d always been popular with her peers. She’d considered herself blessed, but this cooking thing was kicking her butt. What would Roger do when he found out how terrible she was in the kitchen? Would he end it with her? Her sobs were replaced with a sense of panic in her chest. Her heart raced and she chewed on a fingernail, shuddering as her breathing settled down.

Ashley sat up and squared her shoulders. I’ve gone this long without knowing how to cook. I can go a while longer.

* * * *

That evening, Ashley considered her reflection in the full length mirror that stood in the corner of the bedroom. She had spent an hour with the curling iron, turning her platinum-blonde hair into ringlets that framed her face. Her makeup was light—brown mascara and pink lip gloss. With nothing underneath, the apron highlighted the outline of her breasts, hugging her curves beautifully, and showing lots of leg. She had to admit she looked rather sexy.

The sound of a key rattling in the front door told her Roger was home. She dashed to the kitchen just in time to strike a seductive pose in the doorway. Wearing nothing but her new apron and a smile.

She knew how to obey her Master.

Roger’s eyes lit up when he saw her.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted her warmly. “You look gorgeous in the apron, and you followed my directions. I knew you would.” His arms were full of gifts.

“Oh my! Sweetheart, what do you have? Here, let me help you.” Ashley rushed over to him. Not only did he have boxes in his arms, but he also carried a sack from the market over his arm. A bottle of champagne peeked out of the top.

“I brought you some surprises”—he chuckled—“which you will have to earn.”

Ashley stuck her lower lip out. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

Roger grinned. “Oh, it will be fun, I promise you that.” He set the presents and bags down on the kitchen counters.

“Okay.” She brightened. “When do I get my first present, Sir?” She waltzed into his arms and kissed him full on the lips.

He grabbed her ass and squeezed, giving her a firm slap on the posterior as he released her. “What a saucy little sub you are tonight. And here I was, wanting to reward you for your good behaviour…”

Ashley dropped to her knees in front of him. “I’m sorry, Sir. I lost my head. Will you please forgive me, Sir?” She looked up at him with pleading, puppy dog eyes.

His eyes were playful when he looked down at her. “Yes, of course I forgive you.”

She knew how much he liked her on her knees. She liked it too.

“Would you like some champagne, sub?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll pour. You stay on your knees.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Roger opened and closed cabinet doors, while Ashley knelt quietly on the floor in her sub pose with her hands clasped behind her back, waiting for further instructions. Roger said, “Ashley, go see if there are any glasses in the dishwasher.”

“Sir, there aren’t. I unloaded it earlier today.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said there aren’t any in there, Sir.”

“Are you disobeying me?”

Ashley sighed. She hated when he refused to listen to her. She had unloaded the dishwasher. She knew what was in there…Duh. Sometimes men could be so annoying…

She stood up and opened the dishwasher.

It was empty, except for two brand new crystal champagne flutes that she had never seen before.

“What are those?” Roger asked.

“Um, I’ve never seen those before…” Ashley stammered.

“I’m sure you haven’t. Pull out the top rack of the dishwasher and bend over it.”

Ashley did as she was told. How did those get in there?

He traced the outline of her breast. Ever so slightly. Her skin tingled under his touch. She sighed, relaxing, yearning for him to keep going.

She felt the air conditioner blowing cold on her bum. Then whack! He slapped her ass cheek hard. She stiffened.

“That was for disobeying me, sub.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“Do you think you need another?”

She could hear the leer in his voice. He enjoyed this immensely, keeping her off balance.

“Yes, Sir. Probably.”

Whack! Another swat landed on her bottom. She winced. It began to feel warm.

“Thank you, Sir.”

He ran his hand over her aching cheeks in a quick motion, lightly touching them. As the burn went away, he massaged them, groping between her legs, searching out her wet spot.

“Mmm, thank you, Sir, that feels good.”

“Oh, I have a lot of things for you tonight that are going to feel good.”

She sighed. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Would you like to have some champagne and open your presents first?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” She winked at him seductively.

“My, my. You are sassy tonight. Well, no matter.” He turned and handed her the first box. He picked up the magically appearing champagne flutes, popped the cork of the bottle of Cristal then poured them each a glass.

Ashley tore open the thick, shiny cream-coloured wrapping paper, pushing the golden ribbon to the side, unearthing a box which contained a brushed stainless steel spice rack.

“Oh.” Ashley wasn’t sure what to say. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Do you like it? See, you can put all your spices in there!”

He seemed so excited. Inside Ashley’s spirits were sinking. “Yes, dear. It’s lovely.” She plastered a fake smile on her face.

Roger could hardly contain his excitement. “Here, open this one.” He shoved the next box in front of her on the island.

“Okay,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. I’m a disaster at cooking. What would he do if he knew how bad I really am? Would he leave me? The thought made her hands shake as she unwrapped the next gift. A knot formed in her gut.

“A knife block.” Her voice was flat.

Roger didn’t appear to notice. “Yes, you’ve got twelve different knives. One of the best brands, I made sure. Supposed to be chef quality. They should help you chop easier, well, should make lots of jobs easier.”

His face held so much promise, as though he had been dreaming of all these sumptuous meals that she would prepare for them when he bought her these gifts.

Ashley summoned a pathetic smile. “You have been very generous, Sir.”

Roger came over to her side of the island and hugged her. “I love you, and I’m so proud of you, Ashley.”

She looked into his eyes and knew she never wanted to disappoint this man. “Would you like dinner now?” she asked.

“Later. I have something planned for you right now, my little subbie.” He raised an eyebrow. “Go lie down on the table.”

She took a sip of champagne. “On the table?”

“You heard me. Don’t make me have to punish you.” His eyes gleamed.

She hopped right over to the table and scooted the centrepiece flowers over to the end to make room.

“Good idea, we’ll want to move those far away,” Roger said, the corner of one side of his mouth curling up.

Ashley shifted herself to the middle of the table and lay back.

“Stay right there.” He went into the other room for a second. She didn’t move—she didn’t want to. She only wanted to lay there and savour the thought of what he might do to her when he returned. The anticipation was intoxicating.

He came back with a black scarf, one he regularly used to blindfold her. He asked her to lift her head and close her eyes. Okay, he’s not going to let me see what’s coming.

This was one of her favourite parts of being a sub in a D/s relationship. She trusted Roger implicitly and knew he would take care of her, knew he would never harm her. That trust was what made it okay for her to submit to his will. It was sexy as hell to her to hand over the reins and let him be in charge.

She loved knowing that, at the end of the day, she had a place where she could be dependent, submissive, and that everything was still going to be all right. That was the ultimate relationship to her. Not having to be strong and in control all the time. Being able to let go. It was pure bliss.

“Music, my pet?” His voice interrupted her reverie. He stroked her neck sensuously.

She nodded. “Jazz, if it pleases you, Sir.” She craned her neck until he fed her his thumb. She greedily sucked it into her mouth.

“Mmm. Jazz is fine.”

She heard the click of the stereo remote, then the velvet voice of Ella Fitzgerald began to croon in the background.

He knows how to set the mood. She wriggled her hips and electric currents ran through her limbs and her cunt, impatient as she was for him to touch her.

Something soft and fluffy drifted up the inside of one of her legs, barely passing over her crotch before it glided down her other leg. It could have been a feather…a frilly, lush sensation. Yes, please.

“I know how much you like being tied up…do you think I need to do that to you tonight?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her voice quivered with need.

“Good thing I brought these, then.” He clutched her wrists and bound her with the familiar cloth restraints that he used with her so frequently. Her hands were confined above her head, their movement restricted to a few inches in each direction.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Ashley obeyed. The air in the room was chilly. A sense of vulnerability came over her. It reminded her of that feeling when you’re a patient in a cold, sterile hospital room.

Then she felt his mouth on her. She lurched and gasped for air when he buried his face in her mound. Tongue licking, nose nudging, teeth nipping, his hot breath coated her with his own lust. He had her quaking in moments.

She was on the verge of climax when he stopped.

Bastard! He’s teasing me. She was breathless, at the peak of arousal. He loves seeing me like a bitch in heat.

“I’m going to play with you with some unusual toys. I want you to try and guess what they are. I will help you along, but you give your best guess. Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded.

Thwack! She felt something on the inside of her leg. What is that?

“Keep your legs spread.” His voice issued a warning.

“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

More swats from the unknown implement. That feels familiar. What is it? When have I felt it before?

Then a swat to her pussy woke her up. The sting wasn’t terrible, but it definitely brought the blood to the surface and made her cry out.

“What am I smacking you with, little sub?”

“I’m not sure…”

He swatted her pussy lips again. That beloved combination of pleasure and pain washed over her.

Ashley moaned.

He smacked her again on her clit.

“Mmm.”

He continued swatting her. Just when she wasn’t sure she could take any more of the intense sensation, she remembered what it was. “A spatula, Sir.”

“Good girl,” he rasped. She felt him dip his head to lick and tickle her pounded little pussy folds. The moisture from his mouth felt incredible against her hot, pink flesh. She arched her back, tilting her cunt towards him.

She felt something inside her, probably his finger. Her muscles clenched around it and she urged him on with her pelvis.

“God, you are so wet. Time for the next one.”

A light scraping sensation grazed her arm. Hmm. What’s that? It feels like a small paintbrush.

The brush-like object moved to her chest and painted shapes and designs on her nipples. Up and down, around her breasts. With each stroke he spurred her fervent desire for him.

She pulled against her wrist straps, wriggling with need. Her pussy was pulsing, aching for him.

“Any idea what that is?” he asked.

“Well, it feels like a paintbrush.”

“Close, it’s a pastry brush.”

Something large pushed inside her. Finally, something to fill me! It was solid, like a cock or a dildo, but it didn’t feel quite like either one. It was cool and firm, not human or plastic.

She relaxed and allowed her juices to flow. Whatever it was, she trusted him. She wanted him to fill her. Please, just fuck me with it.

As if he could read her thoughts, Roger drove the object in and out, piercing her again and again. Sweat beaded up on her skin as she concentrated on the sensation. Roger manipulated her clit and he continued fucking her with the unknown toy, the combination was unbelievable.

“Oh, my God, I’m going to come,” she shrieked.

“Not yet. You have to guess what this is, and then I’ve got one more.” He stopped touching her clit. She wanted to cry. Instead, she let out a growl of frustration.

“Don’t be such a bratty sub, Ashley. Try to work towards some more self-discipline. You need to trust me. I will let you come…”

She heard footsteps move away, then the sink tap was turned on.

He came back and held one of her bound hands, the object still buried inside her. “What do you think I have stuffed inside you?” He paused. “I forgot to tell you. It is a food.”

A food? Wow, is he kinky!

Her mind raced. What did it feel like?

Big, cylindrical, slickish…

“You give up? I know this is a hard one. I have an idea. I’ll give you a bite of one. Not the one that’s inside you, of course. That should help.”

She heard him shuffling in the kitchen, then chopping noises.

Cool pressure against her lips. “Open.”

When she did, he placed a small bite inside her mouth. It was almost flavourless. Round, like the one in her pussy, part of it had the same texture. She bit down and chewed to capture the flavour. It was cool, light and crisp.

“Cucumber!” she said gleefully.

“You are right, my darling girl. The next one is an easy one. I’m going to coat my cock with something, let you worship it and you tell me what it is, okay?”

Ashley nodded.

First, he coated her nipples with a sticky substance by dribbling it all over them. Then licked it away, sucking those pebbled peaks, making sure he got all of it, getting her tremendously aroused in the process. The hard little buds screamed for more attention and her hips moved languorously. She wished he would do something that would allow her come.

Heat flowed throughout her body. She whimpered under his touch, and when he climbed on top of her and offered his cock to her mouth, she eagerly took it in to suck.

The substance was sweet and sticky. She knew at once that it was caramel. What a sweetheart. Roger knows I adore caramel.

Ashley licked the liquid, sugary substance off his shaft and swallowed what she could. She was at a disadvantage because her hands were tied and he was on top—essentially she was at his mercy. Roger lunged into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged once and he pulled out, asking her if she was okay.

“Mmhm.” She nodded and opened her mouth again to receive him. Once he had a good rhythm going and she was breathing well, she felt his hands on her cunt again. He began fucking her with that cucumber and flicking her clit with his tongue at the same time.

The oral stimulation in conjunction with being fucked and fingered all together sent her over the edge. Roger kept grinding against her clit as he pumped into her mouth and her cunt. Wave after wave of orgasm flowed over her. Silently, she prayed that he would never stop. She loved being overwhelmed by the helplessness of his cock in her throat and his tongue on her pussy.

A stream shot down her throat then he pulled back, leaving some semen in her mouth for her to swallow. Her body quivered as he backed off her sensitive button and plucked the fruit from her pussy.

“Sir…?” When he withdrew, her skin grew cold, and without being able to see she immediately felt vulnerable again.

He whispered in her ear, “Yes?” He gently removed her blindfold and her restraints.

She gazed at him. “Nothing, Sir. I just… That was wonderful.”

He looked at her with kind eyes. “I’m glad you liked it.” He rubbed her cheek then scooped her up into his arms. “How would you like a shower before dinner?” Looking down at the traces of caramel all over both of them, they burst into laughter.

“Uh, good idea.” Ashley giggled and Roger carried her into the bathroom.

After a quick shower, they dried off then slipped on matching thick, plush bathrobes—luxurious souvenirs they had brought back from a romantic trip to the Turks and Caicos.

Ashley padded back into the kitchen then pulled the food out of the oven. Earlier, when she had gone out to buy a pie to replace the failed one, she had picked up some enchiladas verde at the gourmet shop next door to the bakery. She had put them into her own stoneware and popped them in the oven to keep warm.

She cleaned the table and set their places.

Roger served their plates.

“Thank you, dear,” she said as she sat down at table where he had so delightfully ravished her earlier. She was exhausted. And starving!

She took a bite of her dinner. She must have devoured it too fast, because something went down the wrong way and she choked.

Coughing, she tried to clear her throat. Ashley stood up to get something to drink.

“Are you okay?” Roger asked. “This is delicious. Did you make this?”

She nodded, her back to him. Her eyes burned. She still couldn’t talk yet. The food in her throat made it hard to breathe.

She held a glass in front of the water dispenser on the refrigerator, then drank it down. Gulp, gulp, gulp!

Wait! I nodded that I was okay, not that I made the enchiladas!

When she stopped seeing red, she realised Roger was saying, “…is delicious, you’ve really outdone yourself tonight, my dear. I’m impressed.”

She nodded at him. “Would you like some water?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine.” Her voice was hoarse. Why can’t I tell him? I’m such a chicken.

She filled a glass of water for him and brought it back to the table.

“So how was work today?” She wanted to change the subject. To anything but the food.

“Oh, it was fine. Pricewater House is talking mergers and…” He went on about a business deal she only vaguely understood. That was okay with her.

When it came time for dessert, she presented him with a piece of the fluffy chocolate pie. She had been prepared to pass the pie off as her own, but he had unnerved her when he’d given her credit for the entrée as well.

That was an accident. She hadn’t intended on saying she’d cooked the dinner.

But he was so proud of her…and she’d been choking. By the time she’d been able to answer him, well, she couldn’t disappoint him. Not these days. She was afraid if she failed at this cooking task, he might leave her. He had been acting so oddly in the days leading up to his request. Clearly it was important to him that she succeeded in the kitchen.

She frowned, her stomach knotted. Great, now I feel guilty.

A little voice inside her said, But not guilty enough to tell him the truth.

Roger beamed at her. He had been so good to her tonight. I won’t do anything to destroy this beautiful evening.

By the time they were snuggled up together in bed that night, Ashley had practically convinced herself she’d cooked that meal.