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  Calliope’s Master

  Melinda Barron

  Blushing Books

  What’s Inside

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t want to kill you, I just want to fuck you.”

  Calliope felt as if she were standing on lava rocks. Heat surged through her as he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her shoulder. She reached out and clasped the railing that was just inside the doorway.

  Silas clasped her hips and jerked her back against him. She could feel his hard cock pressed against her ass, and she whimpered with need.

  “Those are the sounds I like to hear,” he said. He kissed her neck through her hair, and then she felt the sharp prick of his teeth, reminding her of how a male cat claimed his queen.

  His breath was hot on her neck. “For months now, I’ve been thinking of wonderful scenarios for us: They involved you tied between the columns in my dungeon, crying out as my whip caresses your ass; you moaning in pleasure as I tighten the clamps on your nipples and clit; you struggling for breath as I shove my cock down your throat.”

  “Oh God, Silas.” She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his hard, masculine hands as they pushed her jeans to the ground. He caressed her thighs, and she tried to get ahold of her senses. Had anything ever felt this good?

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Dinner first, with a few glasses of wine to numb her mind, take away the thoughts that were, even now, running through her. But her body ignored her subconscious, which screamed out that she should make him stop.

  He slipped a hand between her thighs. “Spread your legs as wide as you can.”

  She obeyed him instantly, and his fingers delved inside her wet folds. He found her slave ring and tugged. Calliope gasped; he tugged hard, and she came. Hot thunderbolts of pleasure soared through her as he tugged it again, and again, and again.

  He let go of the ring, then found her clit and pinched.

  “Silas!” Her scream echoed into the basement. The pain was exquisite, and she rode his fingers as if she’d never felt anything like it in her life, her hips rocking into his touch.

  “Say it,” he whispered. “I need to hear it.”

  She shook her head, and he pinched her again. Calliope bit her lip as the pain bit into her harder.

  “Say it.” His voice was low, commanding.

  Calliope closed her eyes as he pinched her again.

  “Please fuck me,” she murmured as she leaned back into his chest. “I need it. Please.”

  “Good girl.” He kept his hands on her, holding her steady. “Step out of your jeans.”

  She stomped her feet, trying to move the heavy material over her shoes. When she was unsuccessful she giggled nervously.

  “You’ve got hold of the railing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m going to let you go, so don’t fall down the stairs on me.”

  “I won’t.” Her arms shook as they took the whole weight of her body. He leaned down and pulled off her shoes. Then he helped her step out of her jeans. When she was naked from the waist down, he turned her.

  Before she could say anything, he grasped her face between his hands and kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth before she could even grasp the fact he was there. He stole her breath, his lips caressing hers. When he released her, he leaned his forehead against her.

  “You’re so beautiful.” She shook her head, and he pulled away and gazed down at her. Then he took her hand and pressed it against his crotch. “See what you do to me? I’ve been hard since you got here yesterday. All I could think about was this.”

  ©2018 by Blushing Books® and Melinda Barron

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Melinda Barron

  Calliope’s Master

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-849-0

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Melinda Barron

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  Chapter 1

  “This place is a little creepy.” Calliope Ingalls handed her husband a 200-mm lens and took the 125-mm he’d just removed from the camera body. She put the old one in her bag as he attached the new.

  “That’s part of the charm, baby,” he said with a wink. “Remember, not fifty miles from here, they hanged people they thought were witches. I think the history contributes to the atmosphere, which I might describe more as spooky rather than creepy.”

  “Same difference.” She smiled shyly before she turned her attention back to the landscape around them. “Maybe I should give you a dictionary. I think the terms spooky and creepy are listed together.”

  Calliope blinked coquettishly as he looked up from the camera dials he’d been focused on. She’d expected to see lust, but instead she saw anger, a slow burn that she knew could turn into a fire. Maybe she’d been a little too flippant today. She’d made remarks in the car about the cold, about the traffic, and about her desire to go home. Maybe the comment about the dictionary had taken things a little too far.

  “Someone’s being a smart-ass today. Are you acting out because you didn’t get the belt last night?”

  “No, Master.” She held up her hands as if offering her surrender. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and Calliope’s nipples hardened. She had indeed missed a good, hard spanking last night, but using the leather in the hotel would have attracted attention. She always made noise when he used the belt.

  She licked her lips slowly as he studied her. Would he spank her out here in the open field? It was definitely what she wanted. But he could punish her for being a smart-ass and make her wait until they were home, which wouldn’t be for another two days.

  Hopefully, he’d reward her obvious attempt to lure him into a spanking while they were out here in the middle of nowhere. The alternative was too much to bear.

  Calliope worried her lower lip as her Master continued to study her. Why didn’t he say something? Waiting for his decision was pure torture, but it was something her Master was very good at.

  What she wanted now wasn’t punishment, though; she wanted fun, for the both of them. Her Master loved whipping her, almost as much as she enjoyed being on the receiving end. But to start a scene without asking him… What had she been thinking?

  “Forgive me, Master. I’ve overstepped my bounds.” She lowered her gaze to the ground.

  “So, you have, bad girl. I should refuse you, but I’m afraid you’d pout.”

  “No, Sir, I wouldn’t.” Her heart beat just a little faster. The tone of his voice indicated he was unhappy with her, and she didn’t like that. Not one bit.

  “Are y
ou saying I’m wrong?”

  “No, Sir, I…”

  “Show me your breasts.”

  Calliope wasted no time. She put down the camera bag, then grasped the edges of her heavy sweater. The cold New England air assaulted her skin and stomach as she pulled the sweater and her bra up, exposing her heavy breasts.

  “Hard nipples.” Her Master’s voice was deeper than before.

  “For you, Master.”

  “For me, or for the cold?”

  She shook her head. “Only for you.”

  “We’ll see.” He inclined his head toward her waist. “Take off your belt, then undo your jeans and lower them and your panties to your knees.”

  Her fingers fumbled with the belt, but after she pulled the thin leather through the loops, she quickly undressed, holding the belt out to him.

  “I think not.” He flashed a look that said her ass was about to become very, very sore. “Pick up the bag and follow me.”

  He started walking without waiting to see if she’d obey him, and Calliope fell into step behind him. It was difficult to walk with her clothes in such restricting positions, but she did the best she could, holding the bag in front of her.

  The rental car was parked under a copse of trees, and as Calliope walked she thought about bending over the hood, her Master’s belt licking her cold ass as she clutched the metal under her. What would the people who rented the car next think if they knew someone had been thoroughly spanked on the vehicle they were driving?

  She almost giggled at the thought, until her Master passed the car and went to the tree that was nearest it. It was old, with a huge trunk and low-slung branches. Calliope almost tripped as she watched him grab a branch and tug as if to test its sturdiness.

  This hadn’t been what she had in mind, not at all.

  “Master?” She stopped at the car, then looked at it pointedly when he glanced her way.

  “Over here, little slut.”

  Oh crap. She’d been put on display before, tied to a cross or hung from chains in the ceiling, but that was always in a club, not out in the open where anyone could drive up and see her arms tethered to a tree branch.

  “Master, I…”

  “Now, Calliope.” He undid his belt buckle. “You know how I get if you make me wait.”

  Oh yes, she knew. Better to take what he had in mind than argue about it. Arguing would double the whipping and assure that, when they got home, he would deliver a penalty for her behavior.

  Calliope hurried to him. The tree branch wasn’t that much higher than her head, which was a good thing. Maybe, just maybe, if someone drove up, they wouldn’t notice her hanging there. Maybe her Master could get her down before they got out of their car.

  Master looked at the bag, then looked at the ground. Calliope put it down, then held out the thin belt she’d been wearing. He placed his camera on the bag, took the leather and wrapped it figure eight-style around her wrists, using the ends to secure them together.

  When he was done, he unsnapped the camera strap and stretched it out to its full length. He stepped under the tree and pointed to the spot next to him.

  What had started out as an idea to get a few licks from the belt was spiraling out of control. Calliope trusted her Master to control things, to make sure she wasn’t harmed, and that the scene played out right. She knew better than to balk outwardly, but inwardly she grew increasingly nervous about this wide-open playroom.

  Calliope stepped into the spot he’d indicated. Her Master threw the strap over the tree branch, tugging on both ends. The branch swayed, but it was obvious it would hold her weight as he whipped her.

  “Up.” She lifted her arms, and he threaded the strap through the leather around her wrists. He pulled the ends until her arms were high above her head. A telltale click told her he’d fastened the lanyard catches together to keep her arms in place.

  He stepped in front of her and pulled his belt from the loops of his pants. “You thought you could top me from below, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Master. Forgive me.” The cold made her shiver, and she wanted him to get this over with, so she could properly apologize.

  “We’ll see.” He folded the belt in half. “I had planned on a nice, leisurely spanking after we met with Sir Silas. I was going to make your ass throb, then give you a good, hard fuck that made both of us come. But your mouth changed all that. You won’t come today.”

  “No, Master, I won’t come. Forgive me for ruining your plans.” Sir Silas. She’d forgotten about him. The resort owner was due here by one to discuss the photos he’d hired her Master to take. What time was it now? Her wrists were bound too tightly for her to get a look at her watch. Would they finish her punishment before he arrived? Somehow, she doubted it.

  Master took a step forward and thrust his fingers between her thighs, finding the slave ring that hung from her clit, marking her as his. He tugged it roughly, and she gasped as pain rocked through her.

  “Who does this pussy belong to?”

  “You, Master.”

  His hand moved to her breasts; he tugged on each nipple in turn, twisting them until she gasped in pain. “And these tits?”

  “Yours, Master.” She kept her gaze fastened to the ground.

  “And your ass? Your mouth?”

  “All yours, Sir.”

  He grasped a handful of her hair and pulled her head up. He looked directly into her eyes. “What do you say?”

  “I’m so sorry for overstepping my bounds, Master. Please punish me as you see fit.”

  “Do I need your permission for that?”

  “No, Sir. My body belongs to you.” He trailed the leather up and down her thighs before stretching it out between his hands. He placed it in front of her lips, and she kissed it in several spots, a sign that she accepted the spanking she was about to receive.

  He turned it over, and she repeated the actions. That’s when she heard the sound of tires rolling up beside them. She froze and twisted against her bonds. Fear gripped her stomach, something she hadn’t felt during a scene since the first time she’d submitted to Henry.

  “It seems Sir Silas is here. We’ll have an audience for your whipping.”

  She tugged again, and the branch shook above her. Red and orange leaves fell around her feet as her Master reached up and grasped her wrists. “What’s gotten into you, Calliope? You haven’t acted this way in years.”

  “I… I don’t know. I have a… Please, let me go.”

  “No.” He let go of her and stroked her cheek. “As your Lord and Master, I’m ordering you to get ahold of yourself.”

  She turned her gaze to his as she tried to control her breathing. His expression asked her if she needed to use her safe word, something she’d never done. He would release her, but he wouldn’t be happy about it. But then again, neither would she.

  “I’m fine, Master. Forgive me.”

  He stroked her cheek again and nodded. “We’ll discuss this later. Are you better?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Her Master put the belt between her lips, then stepped around her. She imagined him offering his hand to the darkly handsome resort owner.

  “Not at all. My sub and I have had a difference of opinion, and I felt immediate correction was needed. I’m afraid there isn’t much privacy at the hotel for this type of thing.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I wish my hotel was done; then you could have stayed there and had all the privacy you needed,” Silas answered. She tried to remember him as she’d seen him last—at a club in Boston. Her Master had been hired to document a collaring ceremony where a Domme claimed her slave.

  Sir Silas had been there—a beautiful blonde submissive at his feet—as they’d watched the Domme whip, then collar the equally stunning woman the Domme had claimed.

  Calliope had been more than a little intimidated by the striking subs, with their thin bodies and high breasts. When she’d voiced her insecurities to her Mast
er, he’d forced her to strip, then stand on display in the middle of the room for all to see, hands clenched behind her back, head bowed.

  She’d heard many words of praise from Doms and Dommes alike that night, not only for her ability to obey but also for her ‘womanly curves’. Calliope had thought the euphemism was just another way for them to say she was fat; she’d flushed with pride as she listened to her Master tell them all how much he loved her, how he wouldn’t change a hair on her head.

  Then he’d chained her to a wall and given her twenty-five strikes with a single-tail. Back at the hotel he’d fucked her so hard she thought she would die from the bliss.

  She’d felt the whipping for days afterward, but she’d also absorbed his praise. It had seeped into her soul and strengthened the bond they shared. Today’s outburst would put a slight dent in the bond, but her Master would repair it; she had no doubt.

  Behind her, the men talked in low tones, and she wanted to clear her throat, remind them that while they talked she stood here half-naked. Goose bumps formed on her body as the cold continued to wrap around her.

  She closed her eyes and centered on her submission. Her Master wanted her in this position, and this was where she would stay without complaint. Her arms ached, but at least they weren’t pulled so tight that she couldn’t flex them a little.

  The men’s voices drifted toward her as she contemplated her spanking. She should have thought about Sir Silas showing up before she put on her little show.

  She shifted a little, then jumped as something pressed against her leg. She looked down to see if an animal was sniffing her legs. Instead, she saw the edge of her Master’s belt trailing up the inside of her calf.