Page 71 of The Dom with the Kink Monsters

“You make anything look good, Master.”

“Mmhmm.” He threw himself into bed then looked over her new sleepwear.

“Checking you out when you’re in that nightgown makes me feel dirty.”

She brushed a piece of lint off of her full-length white flannel. It had a high neck and long sleeves, and several pink bows. It would have been right at home in a Jane Austen novel.

At the foot of the bed she stood and waited for his command, although part of her just wanted to crawl in and go right to sleep.

They’d settled Spider in when they got home, then took him to the park, to the ice cream parlor, then back home. Saya was exhausted. It wasn’t that the boy was difficult or contrary – he was almost creepily well behaved. It was just much harder being attentive to the needs of two people instead of just one. She was afraid that Spider would be unhappy and not mention it to them so she kept trying to read his expressions.

Master frowned. “Is it just me, or is it odd that he’s not at least a little upset? He doesn’t know us at all and he’s not crying for Bronwyn, just a bit worried about his cat. I was expecting something by now.”

“At the park he told me that she works a lot. He goes to the overnight daycare.”

“She has an office job. How often can she be working through the night?”

Saya shrugged. “We’re not in her shoes. Kids are expensive to raise. She’s doing what she has to. If she knew where Spider’s father was, maybe she could get some child support.”

“Jeremy could never hold down a day job long, from what she told me. Not the best choice in a co-parent, but they made a cute kid at least.”

“If she’s paying for that much daycare, no wonder she has no money to buy him new clothes.”

Master rubbed his eyes then snapped his fingers and pointed at the bed. She crawled up and knelt where he’d indicated, struggling to work around the cumbersome nightie.

“Our mother raised Bronwyn and me by herself. She did a great job. Maybe there wasn’t always someone home, but we never wore rags. I’m sure the diner didn’t pay better than Bronwyn’s corporate job.”

“Maybe she’s too busy to go to the mall?”

“Whatever. I don’t know. I’m going to give her an earful when she calls to check on him. She needs to get her priorities straight.”

She couldn’t think of anything to say. Master and his sister had always had a difficult relationship from what he’d told her, and he’d never been interested in Saya’s advice on the subject.

“We’re sending him home in two weeks and I feel like I’m going to need to check up on things, you know? Maybe for his birthday and Christmas we’ll have to send clothes along with the toys. And speaking of toys, we need to get him some. There’s nothing here for him to play with other than us.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Take that ridiculous thing off so I can see you.”

Shimmying the thing up over her head was easier commanded than done. She’d fumbled with the silly buttons on the back of the neck, but it was still like trying to escape from a strait jacket. Why had she bothered putting it on? They rarely went to bed without having sex first.

When she was nude she knelt back in position.

“Present.” He leaned up on one elbow and watched as she put her hands behind her head and spread her knees wide.

Master was close enough that she could feel his breath tickle the naked flesh of her breast, but he didn’t make physical contact. She anticipated the feel of his hands, but he just looked, watched. For a moment she had the urge to ask for his touch, but that was rude. Slaves waited for their Master’s pleasure, they didn’t direct. She looked at him, knowing he didn’t like for her to look away.

Where she had been tired before, her senses were now wide awake.

Hopefully they could figure out how to stay quiet so they didn’t wake the boy.

*

Spider practiced the letter S. Half were still the wrong way, but he’d gotten the idea and was holding his pencil properly now. She’d read him stories. He told her a lot of adventures that he had with Alexandra, his cat, the retelling of which made his bottom lip quiver sometimes. They’d sang songs, glued macaroni to construction paper, colored, did dot to dot. They’d gone to the park, too. She decided at lunch time, when he helped her make sandwiches, that if she and Master ever had children there was no way she was homeschooling. She was exhausted.

At least Master had come home at lunch, so she’d felt okay taking a shower. Could you shower and leave a three-year-old watching television or something?

They’d gone out for school supplies and toys the day before. Shopping for toys with a child who kept balking and saying toys were expensive was interesting. They’d had to watch him and guess which ones he actually wanted.

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