Page 60 of Dozer (Rolling Thunder MC #14)

Chapter 60

Daisy

Master had quizzed me several times over video about my piercings, and I assured him they were fine — no change to how they looked or felt, and yes, I was spraying the stuff in the morning and evening.

The truth, though, was that I’d be more than happy to have him home and taking care of them again. I missed him more than anything when I had to reach my arm at odd angles to spray them all down myself. Not that it was especially hard, I’d just never had to do it myself until I’d run him off.

Wearing my collar and cuffs had been a big comfort, though. I was mad at him, but I still had the physical reminders of belonging to him.

I thought and thought about how I wanted to greet him at the door, and finally decided I wanted to do it on my knees, naked.

I’d taken the hair extensions out to meet him at the restaurant, but I’d shown him how long my hair looks with them in over video, so I clipped them back in to greet him today.

The house was spotless, and I had pork chops and hashbrowns in cream of mushroom soup marinating in the slow cooker, so all I’d have to do would be to separate the potatoes and meat, plate them, and then nuke the green beans I’d made in bacon grease earlier. We’d have a nice meal whenever he was ready to eat — whether that happened before or after he wanted sex. They’d been cooking since the early morning hours, so we could eat them whenever he wanted.

I debated on whether to put my waist cincher on or not, but he always puts it on me, so I decided not to. I started to put the things he most often makes use of out so they’d be handy — the cincher, a butt plug, clamps, and lube — but it didn’t feel right, so I didn’t. I’d offer myself with no pretenses or expectations. Just a nude slave, kneeling ten feet inside the door, waiting for orders.

I sat with my phone and played the crossword puzzle until I heard his bike roar into the driveway, and then I muted it, turned the screen off, and kneeled on the hardwood floor in the living room, far enough inside the room he could walk inside without feeling crowded, and so he could easily walk around me, if he chose, but I hoped he didn’t do that.

I put my hands on my knees, but then grasped my elbows behind my back, since he likes it best when I do that. I spread my knees a little more, and settled into the pose with my back arched enough my tits were on display even more.

Because I hoped, desperately hoped, he’d come in and use his slave without mentioning the fact this was a reunion. I didn’t want it to be awkward. I wanted to be us again. Master and his little flower. His slave, whom he can use whenever and however he wants.

The look on his face when he walked in the door made my heart flutter — he was surprised and pleased. He put his keys in the little tray a few feet inside the door, and then stood in his motorcycle boots, jeans, and black Harley t-shirt a few seconds before he walked to within a few feet of me and kept looking down at me. I met his gaze and smiled, at first, but when he walked closer, I looked at the spot I knew his cock to be.

“I’m pleased, little Daisy.” He offered his hand and helped me stand, and then leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Stand below the ceiling hook in the bedroom and wait for me there, with your back to the door. I won’t be long. Arms behind your back and hold your elbows again, once you’re there.”

True to his word, he wasn’t far behind me. I heard him enter, and then I heard him open the armoire that holds all his special sex tools. I didn’t turn to look to see what he was up to, though. If he wanted me to see, he wouldn’t have specified I should stand with my back to the door.

He stepped in front of me, nude with a raging hard-on, and hung the rope with a spreader bar in front of me, so the bar was in front of my hips. He opened the upside-down V of the rope so I could poke my head through and told me “ninety degrees.”

I leaned forward so my hips were at an approximate ninety-degree angle with my back arched, since that’s how he likes me to be in this pose.

And then he lifted my left wrist, moved it a few inches from my left hip, and connected my permanent cuff to the spreader bar. My right wrist cuff got the same treatment.

“I peeked into the crock pot and it smells amazing. I appreciate the thought and caring you’ve shown, so we’re doing this with your wrists to the side, rather than in a single sleeve hanging from the ceiling above. You’re still getting your ass fucked though, and since it’s been a week without so much as a butt plug, it’s going to be a little more uncomfortable than you probably expect.”

He used the lube gun thing to inject lube into my asshole, and fear gripped my gut when I realized he wasn’t going to warm me up.

“My dick’s felt nothing but my hand for more than a week, and I want to hear my slave scream and beg this morning. Not to punish her, because she’s pleased me greatly, but because I want to remind both of us she’s here for my pleasure, and this is what I want.”

Without warning, a finger plunged into my pussy, and I gasped in surprise. He squatted behind me and turned a light on. “Spread your legs more, little flower, so I can get a look at the holes I had put into your cunt.”

He pulled at my left labia, then my right one, stood, and walked around me. “I’ll look at the two up front later, when I have you on your back, but the ones closest to your asshole are fine, so a good assfucking isn’t going to hurt anything. Tell me the truth, little flower, and not what you think I want to hear.” He was in front of me now, and he met my gaze. “Do you want your little asshole fucked without a warm-up?”

There are times I have to beg him to do something we both know I don’t want him to do, and he was making it clear this wasn’t like that. He wanted to know what was actually going through my head.

“Master’s little flower has missed her Master, and she wants him to take pleasure in her body, but she’s also afraid of how much it’s going to hurt, Master.”

A tiny nod, and he moved behind me again, touched the head of his cock to the outside of my asshole, grasped the bar just to the left of my hip, and pressed the head of his cock inside.

A gasp and squeal escaped — uncomfortable isn’t the word I’d have used. His dick fucking hurt and he was barely inside.

“As well she should be,” he said, and then he grasped the bar to the right of my hip with his other hand, and he drove himself inside until he was probably in an inch past the head.

I held my breath and managed to keep from screaming, but Master wasn’t finished with his demands.

“Open up for me, my little slave-wife. Relax and take me. Show me how badly you want me to take pleasure in your body, Daisy May.”

I pushed out with my asshole, which sounds wrong, but it’s how you open up back there , and a half-second later, he used the bar to pull me toward him at the same time he thrust into me with his hips and legs. He didn’t make it all the way in, but that didn’t matter because it was too much — too wide and too deep, and it hurt and burned, and a scream ripped from my chest and filled the room.

“There it is. That’s what I wanted to hear. Where’s my dick?”

“It’s up your slave’s ass, Master!”

“Damned right it is.” He shoved again and plunged deeper, and spread me so wide I thought for sure I must be bleeding, but I didn’t hear or feel anything tear, so I knew I probably wasn’t, but it hurt like fuck.

And there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it. I belonged to Master, and that was that.

He pulled out and slammed back in. Another scream tore from my throat, and then he fucked me hard and fast, and I had to fight to breathe in enough to oxygenate my body in between screaming and begging for a small respite, but I never asked him to stop.

And, crazy as it may seem, my clit throbbed in the air with nothing touching it, and my empty pussy ached to be filled. He never got me close to coming, but there was no doubt to either of us how badly I’d needed him to do just this — to walk in and claim me all over again.

When he finally came, deep inside my ass, I knew the butt plug was coming before I felt it. He’d want his jizz to stay inside me, so I’d smell like him from the inside out. Later, I was certain I’d find myself swallowing his cum for the same reason.

And now that I knew he was a werewolf, I understood so much more about my Master.

But the shock came once the plug was in my ass, because he turned it on, so it vibrated away inside me, and then Master jammed I-don’t-know-how-many fingers in my pussy and went to town on me, pressing into the spot every time, so I went from frustrated-and-horny to right on the edge of a mind-blowing orgasm in seconds.

“Come for me, little flower.”

It was an order, and my body obeyed before my mind parsed it. Before that orgasm died, he ordered another one, and then another one.

And then another.

“There’s a good girl.” When I was wrung out from pleasure, he released my wrist cuffs from the spreader bar, but I held onto it and stayed put. I wouldn’t move until he told me to.

He finally turned the butt plug off, and then carefully helped me stand. Master oh-so-tenderly kissed my left temple, and my heart went all pitter-patter again.

“Center yourself on the bed face up and crossways, and grab your ankles with your knees straight. I’ll wash up and then be in to properly look your piercings over. Formal rules for a little while. No words unless asked a direction question. Tell me you understand.”

“Your slave understands, Master.”

* * * *

Dozer

I hadn’t expected to walk in and take her ass, but she’d needed it. In all honesty, I’d wanted to hold her and cuddle her, but it was clear she’d needed me to prove to her I could still be Master, and I had no problems changing my plans.

My nose told me Champ’s crate had been in our bedroom a whole lot, but he was currently in the kitchen. He’d cried a little when I got rough with my girl, but he’d have to get used to that. I liked that he was in tune with her, though.

Her piercings looked fine, so I sent her to the kitchen to prepare our meal, and I sat in the bedroom and decided how the rest of our day was going to go.

Clearly, she’d wanted me to come in and take control. She wanted our dynamic, and not one where she was in any way over me, not even when I’d fucked up and she could’ve demanded we toss the contract and rewrite it from scratch, because my wolf wasn’t going to let her walk away from us. The human would’ve tried to hold onto as much sexual freedom to use her and abuse as I wanted, but we’d have given up a whole helluva lot, if that’d been what it took to keep her.

But she didn’t want to change our dynamic, and that settled my heart more than words can express.

When I made it to the kitchen, there was a baby gate up to keep Champ from leaving the kitchen, and he was chewing on a bully stick behind her while she prepared the food. I noted his food on the far edge of the counter, and I asked her, “Did you put gravy on his food?”

“A little. He’ll eat when we do, so he doesn’t bother the bejeebers out of us while we eat. Making his food smell like ours will make him actually want it.”

I squatted beside him to pet him while he went at the bully stick. I took it from him, and then gave it back to him. He needed to get used to me being Alpha enough to have control over his food. Daisy, too. I gave him a little more attention and then stood, washed my hands, and set the table while I considered my next moves.

Once dinner was on the table, I’d fasten her wrist cuffs together behind her back and lovingly feed her meal to her, and then I’d restore her speech permissions and have her show me whatever I’ve missed while away — any work done on her project piece, all the new curtains, which I’d seen and liked, but hadn’t mentioned, and the new living room furniture, which I also liked, but hadn’t mentioned.

And then we’d go through her training regimen — positions, grace, oral training, and weight hanging from her pussy while I gave her orgasms.