Lacy Bonds (Veronica's Tale)(Curvy Maids 3): (A Billionaire, BDSM, BBW naughty romance) (7 page)

I came hard and hot. I cried out for joy. I loved this man so much. I wanted to be his forever. My pussy slammed down on him, my flesh writhing about his shaft, milking him. I wanted him to flood me. To fully take me in front of all these powerful men.

“Cum in me, Master,” I moaned. “Flood me. Own me! Cum in your maid!”

He growled, his hands digging into my side as he pulled me down. “Take it, slut! Take it all!”

He erupted inside me. I loved this moment. We were one flesh writhing together.

“Magnificent,” he whispered in my ear as he held me.

We were forgotten now. The attention turned back to Anna as she came on Issy's mouth. I closed my eyes, loving this moment. I was in his arms. I felt at peace. Safe and secure.

My nagging doubt came back. Who does he love? Me or his wife's memory.

It was a Friday, a week after the party and almost a month into our relationship, when I came across the frilly apron in the bottom drawer of his dresser. I had refused to wear it when he asked me that first day. He had never asked again. I bent down to pull it out, all to aware of the large butt plug inside me. It was the biggest yet, almost as big as him.

And it excited me so much I couldn't even wear panties anymore. I was soaking through them.

I pulled out the apron, touching the pink material trimmed in white lace. A naughty idea popped into my mind. My hands went to the lacings on my maid's uniform. I pulled, the bodice loosening and my heavy breasts spilling out as I worked the uniform off my curvy body.

It was a little chilly in his apartment as I stood naked in his bedroom. Well, almost naked. I was wearing a butt plug, the sapphire end of the plug stuck out, nestled between my plump butt-cheeks. I grabbed the apron, pulling it on, tying the strings behind my back.

I walked into the bathroom, smiling at the stainless-steel manacles hanging in the shower. Master had used those on me a few times. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was positively indecent. The apron was skinny, falling down just low enough to hide my groin. The top, however, didn't hide my breasts well. As I moved, my breasts swayed and my fat nipples would peak out around the cloth, giving brief teases before disappearing back behind the apron.

I strode out into the condo, beaming. I felt so amazingly free. I laughed, spinning about for a moment. I walked to the windows, peering out at Seattle and the Puget Sound. I was practically naked, and no one had any idea. It was so...liberating. Last week, I had loved showing off that party. And now I was showing off for the entire city.

Maybe Master will shove me against the window, the cold glass pressing on my breasts, and fuck me. The entire city could see me surrendering to him. I shuddered and grabbed a paper towel to dab at my wet vulva.

I walked into the kitchen and began cooking dinner. This morning I had bought a pair of thick, porterhouse steaks from my old employer, Quality Goods, along with some great, portabella mushrooms to top it, some red potatoes to make delicious mashed potatoes, and asparagus.

The radio blared pop music as I worked, my hips shaking to the music as I diced the red potatoes. The time flew by as I cooked for my Master. I wanted this dinner to be perfect tonight. As the potatoes boiled, I set out the table. Fine china. Sterling silverware. Crystal champagne flutes. Silver candelabra. Mauve candles. I placed our seats at the corner, so we'd sit side by side. I filled a bucket with ice and set the Dom Perignon to chill before cooking the asparagus.

I was about to grill the steaks when he walked in. Right on time. He was so punctual on Fridays. The door rattled, then his footsteps thudded on the hardwood floors. I walked out of the kitchen, excited to see his reaction.

“Hello, Miss Veronica...” His voice trailed off when he noticed the apron. His blue-gray eyes lit up, a hungry grin spreading across his chiseled face. “Well, well, well. This is a pleasant surprise, Miss Veronica.”

“Welcome home, Master,” I smiled, grabbing the ends of my apron, lifting them up and flashing my nethers at him as I curtsied. “How was your day at work?”

“Paled compared to the delights awaiting me at home,
ma femme de chambre liée.”

I had picked up some French. My bound maid. I loved it when he called me that.

“Dinner is almost ready. May I take your coat, sir?”

“Yes, you may.”

I walked towards him, his eyes devouring me. I pulled his suit jacket off, my hands stroking his hard muscles. I walked into his bedroom to hang it up. Tomorrow I would take his suits to the dry cleaners.

His hand smacked my ass as I passed, stinging pain shooting through me. “You're wearing the butt plug.”

“Of course, Master.” I looked over my shoulder at him.

“You're ready tonight.”

I smiled at him, my butt clenching on the plug. “If you think so, Master. I will submit.”

“Yes, you will, my dirty, sexy, beautiful orchid.”

I was giddy with excitement as I cooked the steaks, the air filled with their delicious scent. I cooked his to medium rare and mine to well done—I didn't like any bit of pink. I dished up the plates, drizzling the mushrooms sauce over the steaks and mashed potatoes. Last, I placed a few pieces of asparagus.

“Master, dinner is served,” I called out as I walked to the dining room table, the candles flickering. I held a plate in each hand, steam rising before me.

He had taken off his tie, loosening the top few buttons of his shirt, showing a hint of his muscular chest. “Delicious, Miss Veronica.” He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. Not long, but a brief kiss that sent my heart to pounding. He had never kissed me there before.

What did it mean?

“I hope you'll enjoy it,” I said, breathless, quickly setting the plates down before I dropped them. He held my chair out for me. “Thank you, sir.”

He smiled as I sat down. I was all too aware of the butt plug inside me. He sat down at his seat, unfolding his mauve, cloth napkin and setting it on his lap. I did the same, my hands trembling. He had poured the champagne while I had been finishing dinner, and I grabbed my glass and took a quick swallow of the bubbly, cool wine.

We made small talk, nothing important. I barely could follow what he was speaking about, my mind trying to dissect what the kiss meant. Was he coming to love me? Had he just been caught up in the moment? Was it just nothing?

My nerves made it difficult to enjoy the meal I cooked.

But he loved it. He devoured his steak and attacked his mashed potatoes. He savored the asparagus, dipping the ends in the gravy before biting into them. After I finished my first glass of champagne, I began to relax.

“So, what was the special occasion for?” he asked as I cut into my steak. His plate was all ready cleared.

“I thought it would be fun to give you a special dinner,” I smiled. “You have been so wonderful to me, Master, and I wanted to repay you back.”

He took my hand, kissing my knuckles. “You have been a beacon of light to me. I had forgotten what living was like.”

“Master.” Tears brimmed in my eye, my heart aching.

“I should be thanking you.” He cupped my chin, his thumb stroking across my cheek and brushing away a tear. He leaned in and kissed me on the lips again.

It was amazing.

I moaned into his strong lips, tilting my head as I kissed him back. There was such passion in the kiss. Such love. I let myself get lost in the magic of it. Maybe he did love me? I seized that thought, clutching it in my heart. We were going to be happy together. I could just feel it.

I would be his forever.

He broke the kiss, licking his lips.
“Ma belle orchidée,”
he gasped.
“Vous êtes tout simplement divin.”

I smiled, blushing, looking down at my hands clasped on my chubby thighs. I didn't know enough French to understand the last part, but he made me feel so beautiful when he said it. “I...” I took a deep breath, prepared to tell him how much I loved him.

“It's time for dessert,” Mr. Marsden said, standing up, holding out his hand to me. “I am going to thoroughly enjoy you.”

I swallowed my declaration. “Yes, Master.” He took my hand. and pulled me to my feet.

I let him lead me to the bedroom, my heart beating for joy. I stretched out on the dark-blue sheets as he opened up his walk-in closet. I shuddered—he kept the toys in there. What was he going to use on me today?

He walked out, his hands full of such naughty surprises—pink-furred handcuffs, a spreader bar, a purple egg vibrator, nipple clamps, a blindfold, and a feathery lash. I squeezed my chubby thighs together in anticipation.

“On your back, stretch your arms up to the headboard,” he commanded, stern, unyielding like a mountain.

A shiver of excitement went through me. I stretched out, my breasts jiggling beneath the apron, rising as I breathed. He sat on the bed next to me, ratcheting the furred cuff to my right wrist then slipping it through the headboard and clamping it down on my left wrist. He grabbed the spreader bar, pushing my legs apart, exposing my dripping pussy to his eyes.

The spreader bar rattled as he attached it to my ankles, keeping my legs apart. I shifted, my entire body itching with desire. He smiled at me, working the buttons off his shirt, dropping it casually to the floor, exposing his muscular body, marred only by the scar on his side.

How did he get that? My courage always failed my curiosity.

“Umm,” I purred as I drank in his gorgeous muscles. “You are so hot, Master.”

“And you are gorgeous,
ma femme de chambre liée.”

His pants dropped, his thighs thick and ropy, his cock straining against his boxers. I loved to feel that thick cock inside me, stretching me out. And tonight it would be then new hole he penetrated. My butt clenched about the butt plug, eager to feel him back there.

I knew he would be gentle and make it pleasurable.

Naked, he walked to the bed, picking up the blindfold—a black, velvet sleeping mask. I lifted up the back of my head, letting him cover my eyes with the soft fabric. I was plunged into darkness. My skin felt so alive. I could feel every fiber of the sheets on my back and butt, the metal on my wrists and ankles.

He untied the top of the apron around my neck, pulling it down, uncovering my pillowy breasts. My nipples were hard, his breath warm. He sucked one into his mouth, pleasure shuddering through me as he nibbled and sucked.

Then he pulled away. “Don't stop, Master!” I moaned.

“You forget yourself. You do not tell me what to do.”

“Sorry! I was just so excited for you.”

“I'm going to have to punish you.”

“Yeess!” I groaned, wiggling on the bed. “I was bad. Punish me, Master!”

The air swished. The feathery lash landed on my breasts. It stung, not bad. He didn't strike my breasts as hard as he would my ass. The pain was exciting. I waited in darkness, wondering what would happen next.

Swish. Slap. Stinging pain across my breasts again.

“Thank you, Master,” I gasped. “Thank you for your discipline.”

He chuckled. “You always know how to please me.”

“I try, Master. I want to please you.” Forever, Master. “I...”

Swish. Slap. A lash landed on my nipple. The pain was intense, my body bucking. My pussy was on fire. I wanted to squeeze my thighs together, to relieve the pain. But I couldn't. my Master didn't want me getting any satisfaction yet.

The bed dipped. He climbed on, kneeling near my head. He shifted, the tip of his hard shaft brushing my cheek. I turned my head, opening wide, swallowing his cock. I swirled my tongue around it, savoring the salty precum leaking into me.

A drunken excitement—far more heady than just the two glasses of champagne would give—swam through me. I sucked, pleasing him as the flail swished again, striking my thighs. I moaned around his cock, letting him know how much I loved his discipline.

“That's it. Let yourself go,
ma femme de chambre liée.”
He growled, whipping my thighs again. “Oh, yes. Work that dirty mouth. Please your Master, slut.”

Your slut, Master. Always.

He shifted, grasping my right breast, his hand pinching my hard nipple. I gasped, my body bucking, as he clamped my nipple. The pain was intense, almost overwhelming me for a moment. It intensified all the stinging marks from the flail, my skin electrified with sensations, all pouring into the excitement brewing in my very core.

“You love it when I clamp your nipples,” he said. “I can tell. You sucked so hard. I bet you want your left nipple clamped.”

I moaned around his cock, an eager, wanton sound.

The pain was wonderful as he clamped my other nipple. I worked as much of his cock down my lips as I could. I wanted to give him just as much pleasure as I possibly could. He was my Master, and he could do what he wanted to my flesh.

He pulled his cock out of my lips. I gasped and heaved, then moaned, “I love the clamps, Master! Thank you!”

Master tugged on one. “You are so welcome.”

He moved between my thighs, his strong hands stroking up my legs, reaching for the heat at their apex. He played with my curls, his fingers brushing my vulva. His breath was warm on my pussy. And then he licked me.

“Master!” I moaned as he stirred up the liquid pleasure inside me. “Feast on me! Drink my passion! Savor your dessert!”

“Such a delicious dessert,” he growled. “So tart and hot.” He licked again, his tongue probing deep, then ending at my aching clitoris. He swirled around the nub, then sucked it between his lips, nibbling, pleasuring me.

“Thank you, Master!” I moaned. “Thank you for eating my pussy!”

“I will devour every bit of you. There isn't a part of your body that doesn't give me pleasure.”

He ate me, nibbling and tonguing everywhere. The pleasure was intense, mixing with the dull pain of my nipples. I bucked on the bed, my body squirming beyond my control as pleasure shuddered through me. I couldn't do anything but lie helpless as he made love to my pussy.