MICHAEL James pulls at his chin. âDoes Charlotte know about all this?â
âIâve not gone into detailsâ¦. She knows Iâm doing something, but I think sheâs trying not to think about it too hard right nowâ¦. Listen, one other possibility does occur to me, about Klempnerâs motives. He changed his mind when it was pointed out to him that he was retaliating against someone who was completely innocent of what had happened. Even if taking Charlotte from her mother as a baby was part of his reprisals, her mother wouldnât know anything about everything thatâs happened sinceâ¦.
What kind of revenge is that?â
âSoâ¦?â
âSo, Charlotte wants to know about her mother, probably to find her, and Klempner knows that. Heâs in prison for God-knows-how-long. Suppose he intends to simply sit tight, and let Charlotte do his work for him, track her down? With everyone trying to help her because sheâs the long-lost daughter, rather than the psycho sheâs hiding from?â
âAnd then pick up where he left off? Sheeshâ¦. thatâs an uncomfortable thoughtâ¦. you think heâs mad enough for that?â
âYup. In fact, âmadâ is an interesting way of putting it. Iâm told by Will Stanton that he may not end up in prison at all. Heâs got doctors arguing that heâs psychotic, criminally insane; and lawyers on both sides saying he should be locked up for the good of the rest of the human race, but in a secure hospital.
Personally, I think heâs just an evil bastard.
âSo, we go for it? Try to get back to a normal life, but remain vigilant?â
âEternal vigilance is the price of liberty? Yes, I think thatâs about itâ¦.â
*****
CHARLOTTE Iâm sitting in the lounge, reading, keeping my Master company. Michael is on the phone, chasing up on-
going work in our mountain home renovation.
Glancing up, my Masterâs eyes are on me. His injured leg outstretched from his armchair, nonetheless, he looks relaxed and comfortable. Chin resting on his fist, he watches me.
I know that lookâ¦.
Smiling, âHow are you now, Master? Feeling better?â
âBetter? Yes, you could say Iâm feeling better.â His deep, satin voice is slow and measured, and there is no mistaking his intent.
I put down my book, kneel by him. His hand brushes my cheek.
âWhat would you like, Master?â
Leaning forward and down, he kisses me but winces slightly with the movement.
âJust sit comfortably, Master. Iâll come up to you.â
I stand, to perch myself on the chair arm, twisting around to allow him to kiss me, and to have my breasts within easy reach for him. Iâve been waiting for this moment, and for the last few days, have made a point of wearing blouses that either unbutton rather easily or which have long laces, to dangle invitingly.
A pair of these now hang by my Masterâs hands. He smiles, knowing exactly what I am doing; happy to play the game. Running a finger along my face, down over my lips and neck, he drops towards my slightly exposed cleavage and the trailing laces.
As he tugs at them, his eyes slide up to meet mine, warm with desire.
Michael, entering silently, sits by us on the couch, hands behind his head, watching. The laces unravel, and as my blouse falls open, I lean in closer, bringing my breasts close enough to feel the warm wash of my Masterâs breath.
He inhales deeply. âGod, you smell goodâ¦.â
âWould you like to go into the bedroom, Master? I think it would be easier for you in there.â
âMmm⦠yes.â
As he moves to stand, Michael offers him a hand up, but he brushes him away irritably. Michael backs off, palms upright. âSorry. Only trying to help.â
âYouâre right.â says my Master, apologetically. âIâm not dealing with this very well, am I?â
Stiff legged, he rises, limping through to the bedroom.
âWould you be more comfortable standing Master? Then you donât have to bend your leg too much.â
Heâs embarrassedâ¦.
To save him having to reply, I simply bend over the end of the bed, presenting myself.
Nice, easy accessâ¦.
With me in this position, he should be able to reach everything easily. Michael sits close by, calmly watching.
My Master is grinning. âGod, Iâve missed thisâ¦.â
I twist back to grin back. âAnytime, Master. Just say the word. Weâll just do things the easy way for a while.â
He flips up my skirt, hands massaging my butt-cheeks through my panties. âNow thereâs a view to make any man happy.â Slipping hands inside my panties, he tugs down, but as he pulls, his injured leg buckles, and he staggers.
Michael is there, catching him, preventing his fallâ¦.
âLeave me alone. I donât need any fucking helpâ¦.â
âYes. You do.â snaps Michael. âYou took a bullet. It cut your main artery and caused a lot of muscle damage besidesâ¦. For Godâs sake man, I donât think youâve taken on board yet, just how close you came to dying. And thereâs no shame in taking time to recover from that. Now, if you would cut out the stiff-necked pride, and let us help you, we might all enjoy this a bit more.â
My Master whips around, momentarily set to snap back at Michael, then he pauses, shrugs and laughs.
âYouâre right of course, both of you. Iâm sorry.â
âMaster, the doctor said that it will take you a few months to properly heal. Youâll be yourself again, but you do need to take it easy for a while.â
He nods, sheepishly. âWhat do you suggest?â
âJust lie down, Master. Let me do the work. If you exercise every day, youâll soon be stronger, and then you can slap my butt to glowing any time you wantâ¦.â
He bursts out laughing. Even Michael chuckles. âThatâs about the size of it, isnât it. Alright. You win. Iâll lie down. Iâm sure you can work your magic on me.â
Flinching slightly as he swings up onto the bed, he rests back against the pillows.
âHow about a glass of wine?â suggests Michael. âItâll relax you a bit, and take the edge off that ache.â
âExcellent idea.â
âBack in a jiffy.â Michael vanishes off to the kitchen.
My Master smiles at me. âSorry to be so grumpy. Iâm not used to being disabled. Iâm afraid I make a poor patient.â
âItâll be fine, Master. Youâre better every dayâ¦.â
âI just want so much to be able to make love to you properly again.â
âYou always make love to me, Master. Just by being you. The sex is the cream on the cake, not the cake itself.â
His eyes drop. âOf course it is.â he murmurs.
I undress, not too quickly, allowing him time to watch me as I release my breasts, to swing pendulously as I move; to see me slide down skirt and panties, leave myself naked for him.
Then he holds out his arms to me. As I snuggle against him, he kisses my face, nuzzling into my hair, but there is a tension in him. He truly is upset.
Michael returns with bottle and glasses, glancing approvingly as he sees me nestled into my Masterâs embrace.
He pours, passing a glass each to the two of us, then sits on the edge of the bed to sip his own. He watches as my Master drinks half his glass, then eye-points me to move.
Iâm ahead of him. I was also waiting for my Master to drink a few mouthfuls. Putting down my glass, still with his arms around me, I stroke his chest and stomach, kissing his shoulder and neck from my slightly awkward position. His breathing slows as he relaxes.
Running fingers through the scattered dark hairs of his chest, I circle his nipples with a finger, bringing a smile to his lips. He puts down his own glass, then leans back, eyes closing.
Tracing his body with my hand, I follow the fine line of hairs south down his flat belly, to his groin, where his cock lies quiescent. Trying not to look at the white scar on his thigh, I softly massage skin and muscle. I donât venture too far in yet, avoiding his cock and balls. This should be slow and gradual.
Exchanging glances with Michael, he is soft-eyed, approving. He thinks Iâm taking the right approach.
I need to move. Sliding out from my Masterâs embrace, I straddle his legs, but over the knees, not the thighs or groin. His eyes opening as I position myself, he follows my hands as I stroke my body, displaying myself for him, outlining the curve of waist and hip.
There is movement; Michael settling himself to kneel upright behind me, also straddling my Masterâs legs, but with his knees between mine, pushing my legs further apart. His arms curve around to cup my breasts, fingers pulling at my nipples, elongating them. He nips and twists at them, sending frissons of electricity skipping down through my belly to my growling pussy. I whimper and yelp as he repeatedly tweaks and pinches; my Masterâs cock twitching to life.