Master Me (22 page)

When they said their goodbyes at St. Pancras, Neil took Liz in his arms and dropped a soft kiss on the top of her head. “We’ll speak when you’ve made your decision,” he said. “And know that whatever you decide, I’ll abide by it.”

Liz watched him walk away, wondering why she didn’t just call him back and let him know how much she needed him? It was breaking her heart to watch him disappear into the crowd. She still couldn’t quite work out how she had found herself in this position. All she had originally wanted to do was save face in front of James and his fiancee, show her ex-boyfriend she wasn’t some sad singleton who couldn’t move on with her life. She realised how ridiculous this piece of subterfuge had been, yet without it, Neil would never have entered her life. And now she was in danger of letting him slip out of it.

Everything was telling her that Neil was the right man for her. Only her fear of stepping into the unknown was holding her back.

Back in her flat, settled on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate, she almost reached for a pad so she could jot down the pros and cons of letting Neil master her. It was her favourite way of resolving difficult decisions, but in the end, she let the pad and paper lie untouched, knowing in her heart there was really nothing to resolve.

For once, she couldn’t discuss what was happening with Tina. Normally, if one of them was having man trouble they would talk about the problem over coffee and cake. But this was different. Tina was Neil’s friend and flatmate. Perhaps she had already asked him how the weekend had gone. If she had, how much had he told her? Obviously Tina already knew that Neil was looking for a submissive lover. That must have been the reason why things had never developed between the two of them long-term, since Tina really didn’t strike Liz as the submissive type. Though she would have said that about herself until that night in the Candy Bar, when Neil had first tapped the potential lurking within her, and had shown her just how much she needed to be with a man who took control of her, in bed and beyond.

“Is everything okay, Liz?” Tina asked, as they were eating lunch the following day.

Liz had been unusually indecisive when it came to selecting her sandwich. She couldn’t admit it to Tina, but she already missed the way Neil would make those choices for her.
If he was my master,
she thought,
he’d tell me what to have for lunch every day.

“Oh, I was in a meeting that went on forever,” she replied.

Tina made sympathetic noises.

“I couldn’t wait to get out by the end.”

It was partly true. The charity had acquired Templar House, a former office building on a side street just off the City Road, with the aim of turning it into a day centre for the area’s rough sleepers. Now, they were discussing the costs involved in making the necessary renovations, and Liz had been called to spend half a morning sitting in on the meeting when she had more important work to be doing.

Though the meeting didn’t seem quite so much of a waste when Gavin Brogan, the charity’s head of operations, came bowling into Liz’s office later that afternoon.

“Drop everything,” he told her. “I need you to prioritise the work that’s being done on Templar House. We need a release on the latest development as soon as possible.”

“And that development is?” Liz asked, reaching for the notepad she’d been scribbling information in during the meeting. She was used to the big Irishman’s perpetually enthusiastic nature, such a vital asset in helping the charity’s staff feel they were making a difference with the work they did, but now he seemed almost wired with energy.

“It’s actually a fantastic piece of news. The architect we approached to work on the redesign of the building has offered us his services for nothing.”

“That is good news.” Liz flipped rapidly through her notes. “But I don’t seem to have a note of the architect’s name.”

“It’s Neil Stafford, at Barlow and Keane. Comes across as a nice guy, from all the dealings I’ve had with him. And he seems really keen to help us out on this.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral. “That doesn’t surprise me. He’s a good friend of Tina Ashford in Human Resources, so he’s bound to know about all the work we do here. He’s probably been looking for an excuse to get involved.”

“Maybe we should find out whether anyone on the staff is friends with a building contractor, see if they can do us a favour, too,” Gavin quipped.

“It shouldn’t be hard to get some background on Stafford from Tina,” Liz assured him. “I should be able to have something ready to go by lunchtime tomorrow.”

“I want more than background.” Gavin had perched himself on the corner of Liz’s desk and was playing with the stress ball James had given her as a jokey present when they’d first started dating. “I want to get the press interested in the story. Which is why he’s cleared some time for you to go over and interview him. He’s expecting you at half-past four.”

Typical of the man,
Liz thought.
Telling me where to go and what to do, as always.
She could hardly hide her excitement at the thought of being in Neil’s presence again. Once Gavin had given her Neil’s office address and left her to organise herself, she gathered up her coat and bag. On the way out of the office, she slipped into the ladies’ toilets so she could remove her panties, remembering Neil’s explicit instructions on the subject of her underwear. Then, recalling another of his rules, she turned on her heel and walked straight out again.

Barlow and Keane were based in a modern development of glass-fronted buildings close to the Regent’s Canal, just a few minutes’ taxi ride from Liz’s office. If she’d had more time, she would have walked the relatively short distance, but Neil always expected her to be punctual.

She announced herself to the pert, red-haired receptionist, who told her to take the lift to the second floor, where Neil would be waiting for her. Checking her reflection in the mirrored wall of the lift, Liz tidied a few stray strands of hair and unbuttoned an extra button on her pale blue blouse.

Stepping out of the lift, she came face-to-face with Neil. Dressed from head to foot in black, he was so handsome, so self-assured that her heart lurched. She felt breathless just looking at him, and her pussy grew hot and wet.

“Elizabeth, come through to my office.”

His tone was light enough, but she knew he was issuing a command. She followed him down the corridor into a small office that looked out directly on to the canal. Even with the overhanging trees bare of leaves and the water the same drab grey shade as the November sky, it was still an inspiring view.

He told her to hang her coat on the coat stand in the corner, but before she could take a seat, he added, “Raise your skirt for me, please.”

“I’m sorry, I thought I was here to discuss your part in the Templar House project,” Liz replied, even though she’d been prepared for something like this to happen.

“All in due course. I told you how I expected you to behave during the weekend, and even though this might be business, those rules still apply. So—raise your skirt.”

“What if someone comes in?” Liz asked anxiously, imagining Neil’s secretary—if he had one—popping her head round the door to ask whether she would like tea.

“No one will,” Neil assured her. “And even if they did, I’d still require you to follow my instructions.”

He gazed at her expectantly, and she slowly raised the hem of her skirt so that first the tops of her stockings, then the band of soft flesh above them came into view.

“A little higher, please, Elizabeth.”

She hiked up her skirt another couple of inches, so Neil could see the white lacy triangle covering her pussy.

His brown eyes burned fiercely into her. “I thought I told you never to wear panties when you were with me.”

“You also said that if I disobeyed your instructions, you’d have to punish me.”

Neil’s face broke into a grin. “Ah, now it all makes sense. You deliberately wore them so I could peel them down before I spanked your bare bottom. Clever girl. But so much for wanting to discuss business.”

“Won’t we have time for that afterwards?” Liz fought to keep a tremor out of her voice. The relish in Neil’s description of her proposed punishment was causing her pussy to flood with juice.

“Oh, we’ll have time for a lot of things.” Neil pulled his sturdy chair out from behind the desk and positioned it in the centre of the room. He sat on it, then patted his lap. “Now, come here and let me show you what I do to naughty girls who disobey my rules.”

Liz was surprised to find her legs trembled as she walked over to him. She thought back to her experiments with her own hairbrush and the half-hearted spanking she had given herself. Neil, she sensed, had much more experience in these matters, and though she trusted him to stay within her limits, as he’d done before, she wondered what she’d let herself in for.

Feeling a little foolish, she arranged herself over his lap. As she got into place, she noticed there already seemed to be a prominent bulge in his suit trousers.

Without ceremony, he hitched up her skirt, tucking the hem into the waistband. Liz was sure anyone who walked past and glanced in through the glass panel in the office door would see her bottom on display, barely covered by her skimpy underwear.

Neil smoothed his big hand over the curves of her arse, gently caressing her. “Such a beautiful bottom,” he crooned. “Just made to be spanked.”

The first slap, when it came, was nothing like Liz had expected. It was a light tap, followed by a couple more that lulled her into thinking her punishment wouldn’t be so bad. Then he adjusted her panties so the material was pushed into the cleft between her cheeks before spanking her in earnest, with sharp, upward strokes. They stung, and Liz bit back a cry, not wanting to alert anyone in the next office to what was being done to her.

“Sh,” Neil soothed. “This will soon be over, I promise you. But not before—”

As he spoke, he tugged her panties down, throwing them into the waste paper bin. Now her bottom was completely bare, and Neil took a moment to play a fingertip over the flesh his slaps had reddened, before skimming lower to touch her pussy.

“Mmm, nice and wet,” he commented, bringing his finger close to Liz’s face so she could see her juices shining on it. “Is this turning you on, Elizabeth?”

Cheeks crimsoning with shame, Liz admitted that it was. Even though the slaps were painful when they landed, the pain slowly ebbed away, replaced by a warm, pleasurable glow. In truth, Liz had been turned on from the moment she’d stepped out of the lift to see Neil waiting for her.

Neil’s hand slipped between her legs again, stroking her pussy ‘til she wriggled on his lap, feeling an orgasm building deep in her belly.

“Not just yet,” Neil chided her. “We haven’t quite finished with your spanking.”

With that, he resumed his loving assault on her bottom, spanking her more slowly and deliberately this time. Her nerves were on edge, not knowing when and where the next blow would fall. To her disbelief, the uncertainty only added to her arousal.

Eventually, she whimpered and begged him to stop. “Please, master. I just can’t take anymore.”

Neil pushed her hair out of her eyes. “You did so well there. And you wouldn’t believe how delicious your bottom looks, carrying the imprints of my palm.”

She almost wished there was a mirror in the office, so she could see what he meant. She felt as though she was wearing the marks as a badge of honour, evidence of her willing submission to her dominant lover.

While she ran her fingers over her hot, tender flesh, Neil went to his desk and fished out an unopened packet of condoms from his drawer.

“I only bought them at lunchtime—just in case,” he explained, seeing Liz’s startled expression. “Don’t worry, I don’t make a habit of fucking women in my office. I’m normally the model of discretion, but something about you brings out the devil in me.” His tone changed, became authoritative once more. “Now, over my desk.”

Still with her skirt tucked in on itself, giving Neil a stunning view of her recently punished arse, Liz did as her master commanded, arranging herself over the end of the desk. Without needing to be told, she spread her legs widely, getting ready for him. Resisting the temptation to look behind her, she heard his zip sliding down and the rustling as he donned the condom. Then he was behind her, his cock seeking entry.

He slid up into her with ease, groaning as she welcomed him into her hot, wet core. For a moment, he held still, reacquainting himself with her body as though it had been much longer than a couple of days since they’d last been together. Neil reached for her breasts, squeezing them through her clothes.

“Such gorgeous little nipples,” he murmured. “So sensitive, so responsive. They’d look beautiful in clamps. Or maybe I should have them pierced, as a mark of my ownership. Imagine if I sent you to work in a tight-fitting top with no bra, so everyone could see the outline of the nipple rings and know I’d had them put there…”

Neil timed his words to short, shallow thrusts of his cock. He always seemed to know just what to say to push her rapidly towards a climax, but when it became evident how close she was to coming, Neil pulled back.

“Oh, no, Elizabeth. Not until I say so.”

With that, his thrusts doubled in intensity, the twill of his trousers rubbing against her arse cheeks and waking up the nerve endings there all over again. Sensations more powerful than Liz could remember raged to push her into an all-consuming orgasm, yet she knew she couldn’t come ‘til Neil gave his permission. Holding back was so hard.

“Now, my love. Come for me now,” Neil said.

She found herself spinning into a place where there were no words for what she felt, no way to express her gratitude to her master for taking her there. All she could do was slump against the desk until Neil’s orgasm subsided, too, then let him spin her round so he could kiss her and tell her how much he loved her.

After that, Liz knew she no longer had any doubts about becoming Neil’s submissive. She would always remember the words he’d spoken in those soft, warm moments after sex.