Goldie & the Three Doms (3 page)

“You’re trespassing,” he told her. A dog barked nearby.

She bit her lip, tired and sore both on her bottom from the riding crop and her feet from the long trudge up the road. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

“What do you want?” he yelled from his portal.

“Would a drink of water be too much bother? I’ve been traveling for quite some time. I need a few minutes to rest and a drink of water before I move along.”

His brown hair blew in the breeze while he considered. After a few moments, a smile lit his face. “Okay. I’ll let you in. Meet me at the front door.”

Goldie crunched along the gravel driveway until she reached the tall, wooden front doors. They opened as she approached. The man stood there, still smiling, and she got a better look at his face: square jaw, high forehead, Roman nose, and full, sensual lips. His eyes were deep green, like a summer meadow. Her middle went pleasantly gooey. Returning his smile, she entered the mansion as he gestured her forward.

“Welcome to Midlin Manor,” he said, his voice low and melodious, now that he wasn’t yelling. A big, shaggy dog ran over to her and put his cold nose in her hand. “Spot, get down.”

“Thank you,” she said, petting Spot on his head. “He isn’t spotted.”

“That’s the fun of it!” the man explained. She couldn’t help but smile.

The interior of the manor was light and airy from many mullioned windows, and the décor was tidy and had a personal feel to it, with art on the walls, in niches and on pedestals. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thanks.” Offering his hand, he told her, “I’m Markus Masterton.” He pushed his wind-blown hair off his forehead and led her into a sitting room. “Please have a seat. I’ll have some water brought.” As she sat, he pressed a button on a box and spoke into it, asking for a carafe of water.

When he was done, she gestured to herself and said, “I’m Goldie, and I’m looking for a man who’s just right.”

He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her face, and once again, he smiled. Goldie heated from head to toe. “I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for. So, how did you come to be traveling down the road?”

Goldie related her adventures. His pleasant expression and nods suggested that he was genuinely listening to her. “So that’s how I came to be here.” She patted her pocket. “Want an apple?”

He shook his head, and thanked the butler who brought the water. Goldie drank thirstily.

They chatted for a while, then shared a little dinner out on his lanai in the back. His gardens were manicured but natural looking, with fragrant flowers and no forced figures or fanciful frou-frous. The heat had diminished and a few scattered high clouds were scudding through the sky. It was quite pleasant to sit with him and enjoy fine weather and the garden’s beauty.

“You know,” he said. “You’re a decent sort of girl. Do you play gin rummy?”

Gin rummy was one of her favorite games. “Yes!”

He grinned. “We’ll play for clothing. If you win a hand, I’ll take off something. If I win, you’ll do the same. Sound fair?”

Delicious!
“Okay.”

The manservant brought cards and Markus dealt. At first, the game was one-sided. Goldie won hand after hand, until Markus was down to his boxers. Then, he had a flurry of wins. Goldie found herself naked. But she didn’t mind. She kind of liked being naked with Markus.

His eyes lingered on her breasts and the curve of her hips. “You’re awfully pretty,” he told her. “What kind of man are you looking for?”

It was the first time through her adventure that anyone had asked her to describe what she wanted. Her heart beat harder. “Someone firm, but with a sense of humor. A man with self-discipline, who can impose a little discipline on me. He should be handsome, tall, rich, and generous. He needs to like children and animals and give money to charity. Most of all, he should be adventurous in the bedroom.”

Markus sat back in his chair and pursed his lips. “I think you’ve been naughty, Goldie. You went with strange men, stole apples, and trespassed.” His green eyes glittered with good humor. “Seems to me that you should be punished.”

“Oh no!” she cried, breasts jiggling as she leapt up. “No more riding crops! No more feathers!”

“I’m not interested in those things either.”

She peered at him. There was an open, relaxed look on his face. He was telling the truth. “You’re not?’

Markus shook his head. “No.”

“Well…” Biting her lip, she went on. “You are a Dom, right?”

“Oh definitely, yes.”

“I guess I have been kind of naughty. What did you have in mind? I’ve got to tell you, I’m not a slut so I draw the line at penetration.”

“No negotiation, Goldie. If we go forward, you’ll do as I say or use a safe word. Got that?”

She nodded, wondering what bizarre kink he was into. If he wanted her to wear horse tack, she was outta there. A ballerina’s tutu, though, would be okay.

“Your safe word is ‘uncle.’” He patted his lap. “Now come here for a spanking.”

“A spanking?”
That’s more like it!
A delighted thrill went through her.

Markus patted his thighs again. “Now, or off you go.”

Wriggling a little with excitement, Goldie laid herself across Markus’ lap. He had no paddle and wore no belt, all he had was his big hand and a growing erection. Either of which Goldie could get into.

“You’ll get ten smacks for going with strange men; ten smacks for stealing; and a final ten for trespassing.”

Her butt had recovered from the riding crop.
How bad can thirty spanks be?
“Okay.”

She jumped, startled. That first spank tingled. The second did, too. By the fifth strike, however, her butt was warm. “Ow!”

“We’re just getting started, Goldie,” he warned her, laying another slap on her behind.

She whimpered on the tenth strike.
It hurts!

He paused to caress her hot rear. It was sensual, and soon his fingers found her privates. “Wet.” A happy lilt played in his voice. “I guess you’re having a good time.”

Her ass was hot, her thighs smarted, tears welled in her eyes. But she had electric sparks shooting from her nipples to her pussy with every sharp whack to her bottom. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

“Don’t stop, ‘Sir,’” he told her.

“Don’t stop, Sir,” she agreed, enjoying the sound of that appellation on her lips.

Without warning, he started spanking her again. Fifteen smacks, twenty-five. She was crying softly at thirty. Once again, his hard hand gentled her burning ass.
Will I be able to sit after this?

He helped her reposition herself on his lap, cuddled in his arms. Sitting was a little uncomfortable, but cuddling made it a lot better. “I’m sorry I was naughty,” she told him, noting the firm erection pressing against her hip.

“I know, sweetie.”

She wriggled and he drew in a sharp breath. “Aren’t you uncomfortable? Do you want me to give you head?”

“I can wait until you’re recovered a bit.”

It was so self-disciplined of him to be concerned about her rather than only focused on his own discomfort. “Thank you.”

She snuggled in for a pair of minutes, and he touched her breasts as she calmed, making her all keyed up again. His fingers tested her hardening nipples. She sensed that he was watching her reaction. A warm flush stole over her as he pinched the tip of her breast. The pain of his pull and twist sent a lance of excitement through her pussy. Goldie’s clit began to throb with need.

Markus’ hand slid between her thighs and simply rested on her quim. In response, she arched, offering more, more of everything and every part of her.
How is it that this guy turns me into jelly when no one else can?
He drew his fingers through her folds, until he concentrated her slick wetness on her aching clit. As it swelled, he took her sensitive nubbin in his fingers and squeezed, then squeezed harder. Goldie gasped. It hurt, but a thrill of hot flame roared through her womb.

“You may not come until I give you permission, Goldie,” he told her.

“But-“

“Absolutely not. If you do, I’ll punish you with another 30 on the bare.”

Her bottom was still hot and stung; another spanking sounded unpleasant, no matter that the first one had been stimulating. “Okay,” she agreed.

“Good.” With that, he rose with her in his arms, carrying her as though she was a feather pillow. They went up a curved flight of stairs, and into a big bedroom. It was a masculine room, with muted blue paisley wallpaper and dark walnut furniture. He sat on the embroidered counterpane with Goldie in his lap, and lowered his head to find her mouth with his.

His lips were warm and moist, and his tongue teased the tip of hers. He became more aggressive, plunging his tongue into her mouth in a rhythm she recognized, and she teasingly nipped. His answer was to pinch her nipple until she opened her mouth with a gasp and moan. “No teeth, sweetheart,” he warned her, pinching the other nipple hard as well.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered on a needy whimper.

He moved her onto the bed and her knees naturally fell open. Cool air was a balm to her swollen and wet pussy, but she didn’t want to lose her excitement level, so she moved a hand to that tender flesh and began rubbing.

Markus’ frown was immediate, and he swatted her hand. “No! Mine!”

Was she his? Did she want to be his? She couldn’t remember ever having a beau who intrigued, delighted and seduced her so well.

Instead of arguing the merits of masturbation with him, she surrendered. His face cleared and a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He climbed between her legs and rubbed his hot erection over her mons and the juncture of her thigh and belly.

Goldie held him in her arms until he pressed up on powerful forearms “Wrap your legs around me, love.”

It was so easy to join with him. He slid into her with a single thrust, filling her like a sausage in its casing. She squeezed her muscles, and enjoyed it when he closed his eyes and hummed his pleasure.

He claimed her mouth, but this time, the thrusts of his tongue worked in counterpoint to the thrusts between her legs. After a moment, Markus released her lips and watched her. She tossed her head, felt strands of her hair sticking to her face, to her throat. She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. Panting, she grasped his thick biceps and reveled in the tension there. He was big, powerful, mastering her as no one had done before.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the point where her hips could not seek any harder. The peak was approaching. She almost, almost forgot his promise of punishment if she didn’t get permission to orgasm.

“Please, Sir, please,” she cried.

“Not yet, pretty,” he told her, his voice husky and tight.

“Oh, Markus, I need it so bad!”

“I know. I know.” He groaned and thrust that much harder. “Now!”

On a scream, she let go, flying high, melting, shattering like a dropped crystal goblet. She was broken but perfectly preserved in that one moment. It was a moment like no other in her life.

Markus had stilled, his release pulsing within her. Every muscle in his body was tense, then suddenly he relaxed on top of her, still holding his weight mostly off of her, but meeting her hot skin from breasts to thighs.

A kiss finalized the encounter, sealing their envelope of time.

“I’ve never felt…” she began, then realized how inadequate words were.

“I understand,” he said softly. “Same with me.”

“Markus, you know how I’ve been searching for a man who’s just right?”

He nodded against her hair.

“You’re the one.”

His lips caressed her ear, her neck, her chin, and then her mouth. She sighed with the sweet taste of her lover.

Magical Markus Masterton must Master her many more moments. He was just right.

* * *

It wasn’t long before Goldie ran off with Markus to Rio, escaping both Femville and Bear Island. Goldie got a Brazilian bikini wax and Markus took up capoeira. The cuddling couple couldn’t complain; they lived happily ever after.

The End

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