Assumed Master by Lila Munro

was still too
self-conscience to be that way in front of him and Blake. It seemed one
discomfort over-rode the other at present.
    Maybe if he’d claimed her so many years ago,
things would be different now. She’d have been trained in his house and not
Mason’s and there would be none of this awkwardness going on. And she damn sure
wouldn't longer fear him. He wondered now if their friendship was so developed
there was no transitioning to something else. While she was beautiful and he’d
seen her in various states of undress over the years, even seen her having an
orgasm which was a sight to behold, now that he had her in his own house, it
somehow didn’t agree with him. To have her adhere to all the rules he inflicted
on Blake somehow seemed wrong. It hadn’t taken long for the
shoulda , coulda, woulda thoughts to take root and Dante found himself
doubting everything he thought he ever knew concerning Julie.
    "Why don’t you go get the play room ready
and I’ll see if I can’t get her to stop playing chef for a day." Dante stood
and helped Blake to his feet.
    "Good luck, Master," Blake said,
trotting down the hall. "You may have to go find an all-night appliance
store and purchase another refrigerator to hold all the food she’s cooked."
    "Julie…" The rest of what Dante
thought he was going to say escaped him once he saw what Blake meant.
    There were pots of pasta sauces everywhere, and
cakes and pies and brownies littered the counters. Some type of roast with all
the trimmings was on the table and Dante was sure he smelled sage. Upon further
inspection, he found a trussed chicken in the oven.
    "Love, what are you doing?" he
asked, sitting on a bar stool while she kept her head down continuing to stir
something in a bowl that looked suspiciously like pancake batter.
    "Cooking, Sir," she answered, her
arm moving furiously while a strand of hair bounced along her flour coated jaw.
    "I can see that," he conceded. "Why?"
    "It’s what I do."
    "You told me that this morning, but I was
under the impression you meant you cooked for him every morning and that was
routine so you were holding on to that for sanity sake." Dante watched as
she ladled some of the concoction into a muffin tin. Not pancakes after all. "This
isn’t normal. Is this what you do now instead of alphabetizing things?"
    "If I say yes are you going to call Bill
Lewis and have me committed before the sun comes up?"
    Dear God, what the hell was he supposed to
say? He knew he sure as hell didn’t know what to do for her. Not like Mason
had. Mason could somehow keep her from doing all these maniacal things she did
for stress relief. Of course they spent a lot of time in their play room with
her in…subspace.
    How long had it been since Julie had taken a
journey to that place inside herself where she could turn loose of it all and
just not give a damn? Dante knew for sure he wasn’t the man to do it. At least not now. Fuck. Who was he kidding? He might not
ever be that man. His technique was on the far side of the moon compared to
Mason’s. Pain was not in that man’s repertoire and for all intents and purposes,
as far as Dante knew, it wasn’t in Julie’s either. Of course Dante had always
believed perhaps she compromised much of what she wanted to try in her attempts
at being a completely compliant slave. Now that Mason had pulled this little
stunt with no consideration for the parties involved, he wondered what secret
desires Julie might be harboring, hanging like ripe fruit on the vine, juicy
and ready for the picking. As curious as he was, Dante knew now wasn’t the time
to be introducing her to anything new. At least not with her in the shape she
was in. At this point he didn’t know if he could trust himself.
    With resounding clarity the answer to his
problems became crystal. He had to find someone to help him with her. Someone
that could help him understand whatever it was he’d been missing over the years
in regard to her needs. As much