Tasting Pleasure (13 page)

“I didn’t,” Paul answered, looking again at the painting. “Like I said, I had a dream one night and when I woke up I couldn’t get this image out of my mind—not until I had it on canvas.” He grinned. “I guess I really was dreaming of you.”

Alicia wrapped her arms around him and kissed him gently on each cheek. “Thank you, Paul. This is the best gift I’ve ever received.” She wiped a tear away.

He gave her a lopsided grin and said, “Then turn off the tap. Come on, you’ve cooked for me enough. Let me take you out for lunch. Then maybe you can explain to me why you have an air of sadness around your eyes.”

Alicia linked hands with Paul and shook her head in bewilderment. It was true. The last few months had provided her with more contentment than ever before in her adult life, but still, something, some sadness, tickled the back of her mind. But how, she wondered, had Paul picked up on that? Considering the painting and her response to him, perhaps the two of them truly did share a special connection.

* * * *

“So,” Paul began an hour later as they shared a pot of tea, “tell Uncle Paul what troubles you.”

Alicia smiled in response. “Nothing, I’m fine.”

Paul simply stared at her until Alicia began to squirm.

“Okay,” Alicia sighed, “I’ll tell you, but really, it’s nothing. The last few months have been wonderful. Professionally, my business is taking off, I’m improving my cooking skills, I’m doing what I love and making a decent living off of it.”

“Yeah?” Paul encouraged.

“And Maverick—he’s, well, he’s…” Alicia waved her hands, unsure of how to describe Maverick.

“Are you happy when you are with him?”

“Yes!” Alicia answered immediately. “I feel— This is hard. I’ve never tried to put how I feel into words.”

“I’m a good listener.” Paul reached over the table to hold her hand.

Alicia wasn’t sure if he realized it, but the simple movement of his thumb over her knuckles was beginning make her tingle.

“I feel complete. When I am at his disposal—either his personally or if he lends me out— Well, I feel…” Still struggling for the right word, Alicia began to fidget. “I feel…empowered!”

“Good! That’s how you should feel—at least if your nature truly is that of a submissive.” Paul smiled.

“I don’t understand. How can I feel powerful and submissive at the same time?” she questioned.

“Because, my dear, it isn’t the Master who holds the power, it is the submissive. Only she—or he—has the power to say
enough
,” Paul explained.

Alicia mulled that one over in her head for a while. “You’re right. I never thought of it that way before. It makes sense though,” she responded.

“One problem solved, then! Now, what else is on your mind?”

“I don’t know anyone,” she blurted out.

“You know me.”

“True, but that’s not what I mean. I don’t have any girlfriends. I’m actually lonely, I think.” Alicia realized what she was saying was the truth.

“What about Megan? I know the two of you have been introduced.” Paul sipped his tea and watched her carefully over the rim of his cup.

A picture of Megan’s venomous eyes popped into Alicia’s mind. “I don’t think she really liked me much,” she whispered.

Paul laughed. “So you’ve discovered just what a jealous bitch that one is, huh? Well, my advice is to stay away from her. I don’t understand why Maverick keeps her around sometimes. Don’t take your eyes off her, Alicia. She’s vindictive,” he added with a serious note in his voice. “I know. Let me introduce you to Ivory.”

“Who?”

“Ivory. She’s lovely. One of Maverick’s favorite models, actually,” Paul explained.

“I don’t know. What if she hates me too?” Alicia asked.

“Not a problem. While it’s true Maverick and Ivory have been intimate, she is not one of his companions. She’s not submissive. My guess is that if she were into the lifestyle at all, she’d be a Dom.”

Alicia didn’t know what to say.

“Look. Ivory’s bright, fun to be with, forceful and honest to a fault. If she doesn’t want anything to do with you, she’ll say so. She is not a game player. Why don’t the three of us meet for lunch in a few days?”

Still Alicia hesitated. What would Maverick say?

“Well…” she stumbled.

“Leave it to me.” Paul ended the conversation by leaning over the table and kissing her.

Chapter Nine

Braided Bread

Float 2 Tablespoons of yeast on warm (not hot) water until softened

Stir in: 1 1/2 cups warm milk

1/2 cup sugar

2 teaspoons salt

2 eggs

1/2 cup softened butter

1/2 cup chopped blanched almonds

3 1/2 cups all purpose flour

Mix with a spoon until smooth. Add more flour until easy to handle. Turn onto lightly floured board, adding flour and kneading until smooth (you will use roughly 7 cups of flour). Place in a greased, covered bowl and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size. Punch down. Let rise again until almost doubled again. Divide into three sections. Roll into snakes. Pinch the ends together and braid the three sections together, pinching to close. Cover and let rise again. Brush with an egg wash if desired. Bake in a moderate oven (350 degrees Fahrenheit) until golden brown, approximately 30 minutes.

“So, Paul was pleased with you,” Maverick said the next day.

Alicia answered without rising from her position. “Yes, I believe he was, Mr. Devonshire.” Alicia knew her voice would be muffled since her forehead rested on the floor in front of Mr. Devonshire’s feet, so she tried to enunciate each word. She had arrived at his house an hour earlier and, following the directions taped to his front door, had gone directly to the playroom and removed all of her clothing except for the black garter belt, fishnet stockings and stiletto heels. Once there, she had remained in the greeting position, awaiting his arrival.

“Good. Paul is a very close friend. I don’t want him disappointed. Do you understand?”

“I’m not sure, Sir,” Alicia responded.

She felt a tug on her braid and raised herself so she sat on her heels, her hair firmly in Maverick’s grasp. Hopefully Maverick would now command her to greet him.

“You are to consider him your second,” he said gently.

“Sir?”

Maverick tugged harder on the braid. “Come now. Surely you understand that. Paul is to be your second Master.”

Alicia wasn’t sure how to respond to this news. Finally, she smiled up at Maverick, rubbed her face against his leg and said, “Thank you, Sir. I will serve him to the best of my ability.”

“I’m sure you will.” Maverick’s face was stern before he wrapped the braid around his hand and pulled.

The tautness on her hair forced Alicia to crane the back of her head upward, face toward the floor.

“But here is my concern, my most precious companion. Paul has a soft heart and an even softer touch. True?”

“Yes, Mr. Devonshire,” Alicia answered.

“He will tell me you have pleased him no matter what you do or don’t do. He will give me a glowing report of your abilities simply because that is his nature. He and I have discussed this, and he has agreed to be more assertive. My theory is that you will both enjoy rougher play on occasion.” Maverick paused for a full minute.

Alicia began to tremble, unsure why she suddenly felt both fear and anticipation.

“You need a firm hand,” he finally stated.

“This is true, Sir,” she responded.

“Did I ask you a question?”

Alicia closed her eyes
. Oh, God
! “No, Sir, you did not.”

“You have just proved my point. Not only do you need a firm hand, you crave one. Without it, you will simply get yourself in trouble. You feel pride in yourself and fulfillment when you accept a well-deserved consequence,” Maverick said as he continued pulling on her braid, forcing her to raise herself to a full kneeling position.

This time, though, Alicia refrained from answering.

“Good. Despite your little slip of the tongue, which will be addressed in due time, you do remember your place. Now, upon promise of severe consequence”—he paused as Alicia gave a little shudder—“you will inform me of any…lapses, shall we say, when you are with Paul. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she responded quietly.

“If you fail to answer his call, meet him at a requested time, dress to please him, or worse, fail to please him enough so that he doesn’t experience orgasm, you will report your lapse to me. Agreed?”

“Of course, Sir.”

“You understand this is a test of your honesty. I will have no way to know if you are lying or not since Paul will, I’m sure, do nothing but rave about your performance. I rely on your truthfulness.” He forced her into a standing position. “You will, naturally, gratefully accept any consequence he deems necessary as well.”

“May I speak, Sir?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Alicia took a deep breath and looked directly into Maverick’s eyes. “I promise you, Mr. Devonshire, that I will be completely forthcoming. I will sincerely and humbly report any of my own shortcomings with the hope that you will trouble yourself to correct me.” Alicia licked her lips and continued. “I would like you to know, Sir, that what you say is true. I do take pride in my ability to accept your consequences. I find myself looking forward to kneeling before you and I find more joy and fulfillment than I ever thought possible when you use me for your own pleasure.” Alicia dropped her gaze, catching a hint of surprise in Maverick’s eyes.

“In that case, my dear,” he said as he flicked his wrist and turned her away from him, “march yourself over to that cane-bottomed chair and sit.”

Alicia followed Maverick’s command, seating herself delicately on the rough chair. She knew from experience that no spanking would be necessary tonight. If Maverick had her sit on this perch for more than a few minutes, her bottom would be red and marked from the caning. Alicia bit down a bubble of disappointment. She had actually been hoping for a good spanking. It had been a full seven days since the last one, and she found herself craving the slap of leather against her skin. Still, she knew her bottom would be red and tender from the narrow wooden strips, so she contented herself with that knowledge.

“I have a surprise for you, my pet. Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Of course, Sir,” Alicia answered hesitantly. Hadn’t she just said as much?

“Unbraid your hair,” he commanded.

Alicia’s hands immediately went to the band at the end of her braid. She removed it and began to release her long tresses, allowing her hair to spill freely around her shoulders, the ends curling against her back. Maverick smiled and left the room. While he was gone, Alicia fidgeted, her bottom decidedly sore from the stiff wicker biting into her flesh. Within a few minutes, Maverick returned to the room with another man. Neither of them spoke to her, nor did either give her leave to speak. Therefore, Alicia kept her eyes lowered and waited.

The olive-skinned gentleman lifted Alicia’s hair and began to run his fingers through it. “This is glorious, Maverick. And you’re right. This quantity, not to mention quality, will be perfect!”

“Yes, I thought you would like the challenge, Hector. Well, I’ll leave you to it then. What do think, an hour or so?” Maverick asked.

“Oh, that should do it. Have you told her what’s going on?” Hector asked with his hands still wrapped in Alicia’s hair.

“No, I haven’t. No need. She’ll do as I command or suffer the consequence,” Maverick answered.

The other man simply laughed in response.

“Alicia!”

Alicia jumped a bit, startled to be finally addressed.

“Hector is an accomplished hairdresser. He will attend to your hair in a particular style we both have been wanting to try. You, as he just said, have the perfect hair for such an experiment. Do as he says, my dear, no talking and do not let your bare bottom leave that chair and do not squirm. When I return, I want to see perfect indentations left from the caning. Understood?” Maverick warned sternly.

“Yes, Mr. Devonshire,” she answered, a glimmer of true fear growing. She did trust Maverick, but what if this hairdresser wanted to cut off all her hair? Her breath came in short gasps as tears began to form.

“Now, now, girl. Chin up. I won’t take too long, but I do have my orders,” Hector said companionably. “And he’s right, you know. Your hair is absolutely perfect!”

With expert precision, Hector got to work. Because she faced a wall, Alicia could not see exactly what he was doing, but was relieved to feel the bristles of a brush rather than the clipping of shears. Swiftly he gathered all of her hair into a high ponytail on top of her head and secured it with some type of rope. From the corner of her eye, Alicia could see a bright red strand, possibly silk. By the pull and tug, she could also tell he was once again braiding her hair, working the rope into the braid as if it were her own lock. The plait would certainly be tight, judging by the painful pulling and tugging on her scalp.

After close to an hour, with her bottom aching, Alicia began to squirm.

“Almost done, so don’t wiggle now. You know what will happen, dear!” Hector warned.

Alicia bit her lip and tried to sit still.

“There! Finished! Would you like to see?” Hector asked.

Alicia opened her mouth to answer but thought better of it and simply shook her head.

“Very good. I was instructed to try to trick you. Obedient, aren’t you!” Hector said in a kindly tone. “In that case, let me describe it for you. I’ve braided a silken cord into your hair. I’ve also looped the braid back onto itself so the end of your hair is back at the beginning of the braid with the cord knotted around the whole of it—sailors call it a backlash—so the hair itself forms a tight loop. This should hold for several days and when you—or rather your Master—decides to release your hair, simply untie the silken knot and work the strands loose just as you normally would.” Hector ran his hand over her scalp, obviously admiring his handiwork. “A silver ring is threaded through the hair loop. This ring is very secure. It will not come loose, but it will add weight to your head, so you will probably feel a slight tug at all times. If he wants, Mr. Devonshire can attach another cord through the ring and use it as a leash, binding you to anything he wishes while leaving your limbs completely free.”