Page 18 of Married to My Master

“Third,” Dane began, forgetting the pacing, “You will do the chores, including cooking and tending to my needs.” He watched her face to gauge her reaction as he prepared to lay out her punishment for any infractions.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to continue.

“The first time you disobey me on anything, you'll be put in timeout. I think you've already experienced that, haven't you? It means more sleepless nights, like last night.”

She didn't say anything. Instead, her eyes just narrowed as he plowed onto the next.

“The second time, you will receive a spanking.”

Her eyes widened a little at that, and he watched as her jaw worked a little, her throat bobbing as she swallowed.

“Third time,” he said, as he swept his eyes over her petite frame, soft skin, and flawless body, “you'll be punished . . . more severely.” He turned back to pacing.

He switched his voice back to normal, dropping the sternness from it. “If you obey me, of course, we'll get along just fine. I'll be nice to you, and you won't have any problems as we work our way through this.” He stopped and turned to her, his face near hers. “Do you understand?” he asked.

She turned her head slightly away, a look of concern on her face.

He knew she'd be hard to change. But the way you changed anyone was through persistence. Besides, he was just awakening her to what she needed. Still, though, it was frustrating. He leaned in closer, repeating himself. “Do you understand?”

Emily turned her face to his and moved forward, the spitting sound so unmistakable that Dane knew what was coming before it even his face. The wad landed right on his nose, cheek, and upper lip, and it began to ran down his firm, square jaw.

He had to suppress his grin at her blatant disregard for their agreement. She was feisty, that was for sure. Feistier than any woman he'd ever met, and twice as resilient. Most women her size would have cowered in fear from what Dane might do, especially after what he'd already done. They definitely wouldn't be provoking him to keep his promises. He wiped his hand down his face and looked down at the spittle collected in the palm of his hand. When he looked back up at her, Emily was grinning back at him, a smug, defiant look on her face.

This was how it always was. When given new restrictions and rules, people would test them to see what they could get away with. A good enforcer of the rules would make every single one count, and would never be arbitrary. He would keep his word about punishment, especially if he wanted to maintain order. After a little storming, things would settle down. That was all Emily needed. A good enforcer.

She smiled again, waggled her eyebrows, and nearly laughed. There was fear in her eyes, though. She was afraid and uncertain that she had made the right choice.

He had to show her that she hadn't. He shot out his hand and grabbed hold of her wrist. He yanked her up from the bed before she even had time to protest. “Warning number one,” he said, his voice full and clear, like he was barely exerting himself. He grabbed the roll of duct tape and dragged her to the chair as she kicked and screamed, forcing her down into it.

She tried to fight him, but he stopped her. “No,” he said, sternly. “I told you what was coming, and you chose to try and fucking piss me off. Now, don't make this into a spanking, or worse.”

Putting the fear of God into her quieted her down, at least for the time being.

“I told you, Emily,” he said, as he wrapped the tape around her arm and secured it. “I don't know why you didn't believe me,” he continued, as he moved onto the other arm. “Now I have to give you time out again.” Finished with her arms, he moved on to her legs, putting her back in the stress position she'd been in the night before.

It broke his heart to have to do this to her a second time. He didn't particularly enjoy doing this to her. But, he'd come to realize it was for her own good, as well as his and Benton's. It was a necessary evil, he reasoned, as he taped her ankles down to the chair legs.

“You don't have to—”

“Rule two,” Dane barked, cutting her off. “No speaking unless spoken to.”

He blindfolded her again with his tie and grabbed the headphones and mp3 player from the nightstand, where he'd left it before.

She shook her head, suddenly worried about the coming punishment. “Please, Dane—I mean, sir— please not the headphones. Anything you want, just not the headphones.”

He went behind her, sighing loud enough for her to clearly him over the music already pumping out. “You did this to yourself, Emily. Just remember that.”

She continued to shake her head and began screaming as he grabbed the chair's backrest and tipped her backwards. He pulled her to the door of the large walk-in closet he'd found earlier, while snooping around. He dragged her into it and left her there. He didn't have the heart to watch her suffer the way he had the last time. He wouldn't have been able to bear it this second time.

Her protests followed him out of the closet and down the hall. They even followed him as went into the kitchen and took stock of her groceries. He could still hear them as he shook his head at the sad state of affairs in her pantry and refrigerator. Clearly, she didn't eat at home a lot, despite the number of cookbooks she owned.

Dane reminded himself that he was the one who had to take control of the situation. This was his responsibility now. If there was no food in the house, he was going to have to remedy that. Still keenly aware of the torment he was putting her through, he grabbed the car keys and went to the grocery story.

There, he shopped for the next weeks’ worth of groceries, loading the cart up with plenty of fresh fruits, vegetables, and meats for the two of them. They both needed to keep their strength up for the trying times ahead. No one at the store gave him a second glance as he shopped, and the cashier didn't even comment on how many rolls of duct tape he was buying.

He made it back to Emily's house a couple of hours later. After putting up the groceries where he thought they should go, he munched on a granola bar and settled in for the long wait. She'd disobeyed him and disrespected him. Her discipline would have to be a long, drawn out one, if he wanted to impress on her the importance of order and following the rules.

For dinner, he got up and pulled down the blender he'd seen in his earlier rummaging. It was dusty and seldom used, so he washed it and went to work fixing her something nutritious and filling. The whirring of the electric motor, as it liquified the ingredients within, reminded Dane of the jet engine turbines that had propelled him through the air over the Middle East.

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