as he loved her, or believed he did because at
this point he was beginning to doubt his own reasoning, he didn’t know if he
could ever give her everything she needed. Mason knew that. Mason also knew
Dante would have the good sense to figure that out and do what needed to be
done. Looking back, it seemed clear to Dante now that Mason had known all
along. That he understood that thing
that had been stuck in Dante's craw a long, long time. Dante wanted Julie. But
he would have to come to some concessions in order to have her. Sneaky bastard. Mason was an asshole of the highest order.
Dante thought for a moment maybe he was the
one that needed flogged tonight. At the very least he’d like to sink into a
nice, warm drunk and just not think for a while.
But circumstances wouldn’t allow for that
right now. Julie might not be fitted to them at present insofar as how she was
used to playing or what her limits were, but Dante realized one fact. He had to
strong arm her as her Dom in charge, not Master—he wasn’t that to her. Not yet.
The immediate goal was keep her centered without ever laying a hand on her. She
needed him to tell her exactly what, when, and why for a while to maintain her
balance.
"Julie, stop cooking and get this mess
cleaned up. It’s time for bed," Dante said forcefully, standing and moving
to the refrigerator. He thought maybe Blake was right and there would never be
enough room at this point.
"But you’ve not had dinner, Sir,"
Julie protested, going right on with her ladling.
"I don’t eat anything heavy when I get in
this late. I should have clarified things a bit better earlier. I won’t make
that mistake again. Tomorrow I’m calling in sick and we’re going to get a few
things straight. For now pack it in sister," he insisted, turning off the
burners and the oven. "Let me explain something to you. Mason left you in
my care and I won’t let you wither away while I’m privileged enough to have you
under my protection. This nonsense ceases now. Instead of trying to feed a
village, effective immediately you will talk to me about any and all things
you’re feeling and if need be, yes, we’ll call Bill for back up. I’m not going
to fail you or Mason. Asshole he may have been, but he knew what the hell he
was doing. I was just too blind to see it until now."
Julie stood with her ladle mid-air and a blank
look of shock on her white, powder-splotched face. Well that was easy enough.
Authority and demands got her attention. He was a Master for piss sake, why had
he not thought to just tell her what to do in no uncertain terms before now?
Because she was Julie, that’s why. His fragile, beautiful Julie whom he loved. But did he love
her enough?
Chapter Seven
With Julie settled in the Jacuzzi with a glass
of wine, a good book, and the promise he’d be back to check on her soon, Dante
wandered down the hall to the play room where the door stood open. Blake was settled
on his knees waiting patiently beside the spanking horse. On the bench along
the wall he’d lined up a paddle, a flogger, a crop, a cane, a towel, water, and
a bottle of lube. At that point Dante didn’t know who needed this worse, him or
Blake. One thing he did know was Blake needed to start listening when he was
instructed not to kneel for more than a few minutes at a time. No amount of joint
juice in the world would ever completely reverse the aches and pains of a
middle aged body that had spent most of its adult life in submissive poses.
"Slave, get up. Stretch," Dante
insisted, helping Blake to his feet. "How many extra do you think you owe
me for staying down there until you couldn’t move after I’ve told you
repeatedly not to do that?"
"As many as Master sees fit," Blake
answered, hobbling around the room a couple of times before he was able to
stand upright and no longer resembled the oldest hunched back duck in
existence.
Dante loosened his tie and pulled it over his
head then slowly unbuttoned his
this point he was beginning to doubt his own reasoning, he didn’t know if he
could ever give her everything she needed. Mason knew that. Mason also knew
Dante would have the good sense to figure that out and do what needed to be
done. Looking back, it seemed clear to Dante now that Mason had known all
along. That he understood that thing
that had been stuck in Dante's craw a long, long time. Dante wanted Julie. But
he would have to come to some concessions in order to have her. Sneaky bastard. Mason was an asshole of the highest order.
Dante thought for a moment maybe he was the
one that needed flogged tonight. At the very least he’d like to sink into a
nice, warm drunk and just not think for a while.
But circumstances wouldn’t allow for that
right now. Julie might not be fitted to them at present insofar as how she was
used to playing or what her limits were, but Dante realized one fact. He had to
strong arm her as her Dom in charge, not Master—he wasn’t that to her. Not yet.
The immediate goal was keep her centered without ever laying a hand on her. She
needed him to tell her exactly what, when, and why for a while to maintain her
balance.
"Julie, stop cooking and get this mess
cleaned up. It’s time for bed," Dante said forcefully, standing and moving
to the refrigerator. He thought maybe Blake was right and there would never be
enough room at this point.
"But you’ve not had dinner, Sir,"
Julie protested, going right on with her ladling.
"I don’t eat anything heavy when I get in
this late. I should have clarified things a bit better earlier. I won’t make
that mistake again. Tomorrow I’m calling in sick and we’re going to get a few
things straight. For now pack it in sister," he insisted, turning off the
burners and the oven. "Let me explain something to you. Mason left you in
my care and I won’t let you wither away while I’m privileged enough to have you
under my protection. This nonsense ceases now. Instead of trying to feed a
village, effective immediately you will talk to me about any and all things
you’re feeling and if need be, yes, we’ll call Bill for back up. I’m not going
to fail you or Mason. Asshole he may have been, but he knew what the hell he
was doing. I was just too blind to see it until now."
Julie stood with her ladle mid-air and a blank
look of shock on her white, powder-splotched face. Well that was easy enough.
Authority and demands got her attention. He was a Master for piss sake, why had
he not thought to just tell her what to do in no uncertain terms before now?
Because she was Julie, that’s why. His fragile, beautiful Julie whom he loved. But did he love
her enough?
Chapter Seven
With Julie settled in the Jacuzzi with a glass
of wine, a good book, and the promise he’d be back to check on her soon, Dante
wandered down the hall to the play room where the door stood open. Blake was settled
on his knees waiting patiently beside the spanking horse. On the bench along
the wall he’d lined up a paddle, a flogger, a crop, a cane, a towel, water, and
a bottle of lube. At that point Dante didn’t know who needed this worse, him or
Blake. One thing he did know was Blake needed to start listening when he was
instructed not to kneel for more than a few minutes at a time. No amount of joint
juice in the world would ever completely reverse the aches and pains of a
middle aged body that had spent most of its adult life in submissive poses.
"Slave, get up. Stretch," Dante
insisted, helping Blake to his feet. "How many extra do you think you owe
me for staying down there until you couldn’t move after I’ve told you
repeatedly not to do that?"
"As many as Master sees fit," Blake
answered, hobbling around the room a couple of times before he was able to
stand upright and no longer resembled the oldest hunched back duck in
existence.
Dante loosened his tie and pulled it over his
head then slowly unbuttoned his
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