Waiting for Master (BDSM Erotica)

Waiting
for Master

British Bondage

By J.A. Bailey

 

Copyright
2012 ©J.A. Bailey

All
rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or
are used
fictitiously and are
not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
organisations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

Waiting
for Master

Nestled in the heart of the
English countryside,
Hartslow
Hall dominated the
surrounding fields with its huge cream columns and large windows. The lawns
leading up to it
were striped and lined with flowers,
and Harriet imagined the gardens would be spectacular.

“Are you coming, love?” her
mother called to her.

With a sigh, Harriet
followed after
her mother. Catching up to her, she caught
that look again.
The look that said ‘poor heartbroken
Harriet.’
Since the
divorce
everyone gave her
that look along with all the right sympathetic noises. She was sick to death of
it.

Anyway, she
wasn’t
heartbroken. Will’s new girlfriend was welcome to him, along with his sulky moods
and terrible bedside manner. She should never have married him in the first
place. If only
she’d
not been so optimistic and
believed the sex would get better. What a waste of three years.

Eyeing the grand house as they
neared, Harriet snorted. Well, it sure beat her parent’s farmhouse. Since Will
had somehow
wrangled
the house in the divorce, she was
living with her parents. It was
pretty humiliating
having to move back in with your parents at twenty-nine but seeing the grand
stately home filled her with determination.

A fresh start,
that’s
what she needed.
And
a new man.
Not
one for keeping though, just someone who could give her what she really wanted.
She glanced at her mother’s kindly face as they climbed the steps to the front
door.
Poor mum, if she really knew what I wanted from a man,
she’d
probably have a heart attack.

Leaning forwards to press the
doorbell, Harriet and her mother jumped back as the bellow of chimes echoed
through the house. On cue, the door groaned open and a skinny grey-haired woman
in a sharp pinstriped suit stepped aside to let them
through
.

“Mary,” she greeted her mother
with a smile. “And Harriet, it’s lovely to see you. My, you’ve grown since the
last time I saw you.”

Harriet smiled stiffly back.
“Yes, all grown up now.”

“Thank for showing us around,
Elaine. I’ve been wanting to see around
Hartslow
for
years and it’s good to get Harriet out of the house, especially after the—” her
mother paused and mouthed, “
divorce
.”

Harriet resisted the urge to roll
her eyes. She was fed up with people
tip-toeing
around
her.

Elaine ushered them in and
Harriet’s mouth dropped open as she took in the surroundings. The hall was
massive with vaulted ceilings, a large rug and several mahogany console tables.
Two large marbled pillars stretched in front of her and a recess at the back
held a bust of a distinguished looking
gentleman
.
Family portraits hung from the walls, generations of men and woman all staring
down at her from their gilded frames.

Making the appropriate noises,
Harriet and her mother followed Elaine through the house, admiring the grand
furniture and the portrait gallery. Harriet paused in front of the most recent
painting. The
gentleman
stood less formally than the
others, posing with a shaggy looking dog. He looked to be in his thirties, with
a handsome, rugged face and thick chestnut hair. His hands really captured her
attention though. They were strong and capable looking. Harriet licked at her
lips.
The kind of hands that would know exactly how to give a
good spanking.

“Harriet?” her mother called.

Cheeks heating, Harriet scurried
after her.
That’s
what she needed, she decided.
A man that could give her a hard spanking.
Her ex had never
understood her need to
be dominated
. Just another
reason to be glad she
was rid
of him.

Elaine led them into the
ballroom. It was no doubt impressive with painted ceilings and tall windows but
it was not the furnishings that caught her eye
.
Sidling over to the window, Harriet peeked past the curtain.

Out on the
lawns stood the man from the portrait.
Harriet’s mouth dried as she watched him. He was
topless and doing some form of martial arts, Tai Chi perhaps. His loose sports
trousers rode low on his hips and Harriet was sure that if she looked hard
enough,
she’d
be able to see the line of hair that led
down into the waistband.

Her heart thudded as she watched
the ripple of his muscles undulating with each movement. Jesus,
she’d
never seen anything so beautiful.
Now
that
was the kind of man she needed.
Gorgeous,
strong and not to mention bloody rich.
Harriet smirked. Well, she could
dream anyway.

Reluctantly drawing her attention
from the window, Harriet and her mother followed Elaine through several
reception rooms and into a grand dining room.  

Elaine paused in front of them.
“I can’t show you upstairs while Mr Wright is home.” Her cheeks coloured. “But
I’d love to show you the barns. Mr Wright recently converted them into a
gallery and we have some wonderful work from local artists in there at the
moment.” Elaine must have noticed Harriet’s expression as she gave her a smile.
“If you’d prefer to stroll around the gardens, Harriet, you are more than
welcome.”

Nodding eagerly, Harriet grinned.
“Yes please. Watercolours bore me I’m afraid and our local artists are terribly
fond of painting the same scene over and over.”

“Harriet!” her mother scolded.

“Well, it’s true.”
Besides
she’d rather wander around the gardens and see if
she could bump into the elusive Mr Wright.
Hopefully
he hadn’t put his top back on yet.

Elaine’s lips twisted and she
nodded. “Have
an explore
and then come and meet us in
the coffee shop.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

Harriet strolled towards the back
doors, waiting until her mother and Elaine were gone before dashing through
them and out into the gardens. She hurried across the lawns and tucked herself
behind an ornamental bush. Peering round it, her heart sank. He was gone, along
with his exercise mat. Damn.

A movement caught her eye and she
realised it was Mr Wright talking with a gardener. Her heart bounced against her
ribcage and damp gathered in her pussy. He was still topless.
Yes!

He moved away from the gardener
and Harriet followed.
Was this weird?
Yes, probably,
but she had to get a closer look. A body like that could feed her fantasies for
days.

Keeping her distance, she
followed carefully. He entered the house and she hung back for a moment before
tailing after him. He bounded up the main stairs and she tucked herself into a
recess. Fuck, what was wrong with her? She could hardly introduce herself
casually after practically stalking him.
And
Elaine
said they weren’t allowed upstairs.

Her stomach dipped as she
remembered those taut muscles just waiting to be unleashed on someone.
There was something about him that screamed
dominant
.
Screw it. She would not pass up the opportunity
to at least
see
if she could steal another look at him. Preferably
closer
up.

The desire coiling through her
urged her forwards and Harriet
tip-toed
up the stairs,
her chest tightening as she waited for someone to come up and demand to know
what she was doing. When she reached the top of the stairs, she paused and
stared around.

Shit, he was gone.

Endless doors lined the hallway
and Harriet walked past them slowly, eyeing each one. A set of double doors at
the end sparked her interest and she put her ear to the door.

Nothing.

Pressing it open, she peered
through gap.

Oh. My.
God.

Stepping all the way in,
Harriet’s mouth dropped open. The room was dark - thick purple damask curtains
covered the large windows - but lamps glowed dimly on the walls, giving off a
warm, sensual glow.  A large four-poster bed dominated one side of the
room on a raised platform. Gilded chairs sat to one side and several mahogany
chests lined the walls.

But
it was not the luxurious fabrics
or beautiful furniture that caught her attention. Padded restraints
were secured
to the bare wall at the back of the room and a
huge mirror hung opposite the bed. On top of a low cabinet lay a selection of
carefully arranged paddles and whips.

Closing the door, she strolled
around the room, fingering the restraints and running her hands across each
whip.
It’s
like a
submissive’s
dream.

“Like what you see?”

Whirling around, Harriet squealed
as she came face to face with a glistening chest. “Oh shit.” A smirk came
across his
face
as she remained rooted to the spot,
taking in every inch of his tanned chest all the way down to the towel clasped
in one hand around his hips. Blinking, she brought her gaze back up to his
face. “I-I’m really sorry. I got lost. E-Elaine was showing us around and I…”
she trailed off as his grin expanded.

“You’re Harriet then.”

“Yes, sir.”
Her hand flew to her mouth as
his smile widened. Where had that come from? “Shit, I mean, yes that’s me.”

“Jonathan Wright.” He extended a hand.
“Say, you’re not Harriet Green, are you?”

She took his hand, the warmth of
his palm prickling through her skin. They were rough, as if he used his hands a
lot. God knows, what for. He was rich enough not to have to use his hands for
anything ever again. They would feel bloody amazing against her arse…

Her cheeks flamed as she shifted
on her feet. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Elaine didn’t say,” he mused.
“You went to the all-girls school right? We hosted hockey matches for your
school at my college. You
can’t
have been more than
fifteen but, fuck, all the guys couldn’t stop talking about you. You were one
hot teenager.”

“Oh…Oh thank you.”

“You’re even hotter now.”

Harriet stared at her feet as her
stomach fluttered. “Oh, thank you,” she whispered again.

“Will you give me a moment to
chuck something on? I’d love to catch up.”

“Y-Yes, of
course.”

Snatching some clothes from a
drawer, Harriet sighed as she watched him retreat to the en-suite bathroom.
Fuck, even his back was gorgeous.
All rolling muscles and
sleek skin.
And
he thinks I’m hot.

Harriet waited, still standing by
the collection of whips. She glanced at them and edged away. Jonathan
hadn’t
shown the slightest bit of embarrassment at her
seeing all this stuff. Staring at the restraints, she wondered how many women
he had brought up here. Her pussy twitched as she pictured herself up there,
naked and exposed. A shiver ran through her as she imagined his strong hands
bringing a flogger across her trembling skin.

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