Master R: Chapter Three

Raw and unedited. Please forgive any typos. Consider them like seasoning. LOL

Charlotte’s head fell back and she spun in a circle. Even the ceiling was interesting with its patterns and colors. “I still can’t get over this place.” She’d been inside the Arts and Industries building before for the fashion show rehearsal, but her mind still filled with awe at the space.

Richard grasped her hand. “It is hard to believe it’s so light inside.” The building’s exterior front was mostly red brick with some yellow, blue and black ones forming decorative patterns in various places. But it appeared almost warehouse-like and sure to be dark inside.

But once through the front entrance, the building opened up into a spacious, light-filled hall with hundreds of windows, soaring archways and ornate Moorish-inspired stenciling. The structure boasted four, symmetrical spacious halls, laid out in a Greek Cross with a central rotunda connecting them in the middle. They were aptly titled the North, South, East and West Halls. Any one of them would make an ideal fashion runway, with the Rotunda allowing for a perfect place to turn around and walk back.

“Sarah said it’s perfect for Laurent’s collection. She called the building “’industrial chic with both masculine and feminine elements.’”

Richard laughed. “Sounds like Sarah. Come on.”

He led Charlotte down the North Hall. Her sweater tapped the back of her thighs. She’d tied it around her waist to hide the wet stain caused by Richard’s magic fingers in the car.

Her gaze drifted to the marble and limestone floor. She’d yet to spot one of the famous fossils trapped in the tiles sourced long ago from a prehistoric quarry. She’d have to stop and study them another day, however.

The show started in two hours. Between hair and make-up and any last minute fittings, they needed to hustle. Not to mention, she needed time to calm her body down. His hand, however, firmly gripping hers only reminded her of what they could do, and her body responded enthusiastically. The wet between her legs threatened to chafe her inner thighs.

Had she ever been this easy? No, only for Richard.

When they’d first met at Club Accendos, he’d intimated the hell out of her. His presence filled the room. His dark eyes that could drill into a person’s soul if you gazed long enough at them had bored down at her. Yet warm energy radiated from every pore and relaxed her. She’d immediately known she was safe with him.

Now if only her body could get on board with the fact she was safe walking through 100 of Washington DC’s elite wearing the final look of Laurent’s fashion show—the wedding dress.

Her sandals clicked on the floor in time with her heartbeat. Richard didn’t seem hurried at all, or concerned that his touch would continue the ache in her body or her desire for him to sweep her away into a hall closet and have his way with her again.

“What’s going on in your beautiful head?” He kept his gaze locked on the Rotunda growing closer.

“How much fun it’d be to turn around and spend the day in bed.”

He laughed. “You’re taking my request for truth today seriously. Good.” He finally peered down at her. “I have something better planned.”

“Your better is always better.” She meant it. The smile crossing his face told her he was pleased.

They slowly made their way toward the make-shift dressing rooms at the end of the South Hall.

Even empty of visitors, there was so much to see in the hall.

Men and women in black shirts and pants sporting crisp white aprons busied themselves on either side of them. They snapped white linens in to place on round tables. They unstacked tall towers of gold cane chairs and settled them around each table. A woman to her right fussed with a floral arrangement of orchids and lilies.

In a few hours, more than one hundred people would crowd the tables. Charlotte would walk down the center, patrons sitting sipping glasses of champagne and wine and enjoying a simple late lunch. Her runway walk would take her to the Rotunda, where more people would be sitting—and watching her. She was to walk around the hexagon shape in the center that held a marble statue of Aphrodite, erected just for this purpose.

“Laurent is such a romantic,” Richard said as they passed the statue. “I should expect lot of lace and pink today?”

“I’ve only seen the wedding dress. Sarah said he wanted everything to be a surprise the day of. But she did say his collection is meant to be a reflection of the strength it takes to love and be loved.” She hadn’t meant to say so much about it. Richard’s handling that morning must have done more to loosen her tongue than she realized.

She swallowed hard as they drew closer to where she’d be getting ready for the show. Her unwelcomed nerves crawled up her legs. She buckled a little at the entrance of the North Hall.

Richard dropped his hand and his arm was around her bicep in a nanosecond. Tension furrowed his brow, and her stomach dropped. “My body doesn’t seem to get the message that everything is going to be fine,” she tittered.

One side of his mouth quirked up, the lines smoothing across his forehead. “It will.” His arm circled her shoulders and they continued their advance together toward the people bustling about. “If you do exactly what I say. And remember my fingers.”

A small twinge went off between her legs.

They stepped behind a fabric wall and she stopped short. “Oh, hello.” If she didn’t know better, she’d thought they’d stepped into Club Accendos.

A blond woman in nothing but a T-shirt hiked up over her back grasped two arms of a tall director’s chair as a man alternatively rubbed and spanked her bare ass. Another guy was being laced into a rope corset by two other men. A woman, tall and thin, moaned off to the side as a short brunette dressed in head to toe velvet played with her nipple jewelry.

It was all considered fairly light play for their circle of friends. Still…. Then again, she’d signed a contract saying she’d consented to be here and possibly witness various forms of “warm-up play” as Sarah described it. So long as any playtime didn’t interfere with the fashion show, Sarah said it was fine. Charlotte didn’t believe anyone would exercise that freedom, however.

Sarah appeared from behind one of the models, a stunning brunette with large almond-shaped eyes and generous curves. The Femme Domme rushed up to Richard, kissed him on one cheek and then the other. “Ah, you’re here.” She sent her dark eyes Charlotte’s way.

Richard inclined his head down to Sarah, who was much shorter than him. Most people were. “I need to speak with you,” he said quickly.

Her lashed flicked up, and something crossed between them. She nodded once. A slice of curiosity ran through Charlotte but she tamped it down. She had no reason to feel anything bad about their exchange. They were friends, after all.

Sarah smiled over at her. “Charlotte, my lovely. Quickly come. Laurent’s been waiting for you. Laurent!” she called out and raised her arm.

Across the room Laurent stood, arms crossed, shaking his head as he assessed a man in an eggplant-purple, sheer jumpsuit. Laurent wore a pair of chaps, his bare ass showing welts on both cheeks.

Laurent’s head snapped around at Sarah’s voice. It was hard to tell if the glee in his eyes came from the fact he was about to show off his fashion collection, a woman he loved called out to him, or the state of his ass. He was a notorious masochist.

There was no mistaking who caused his welts, however. One of his Dominants, Stefan, sat in a director’s chair nearby looking like a Swedish god on his throne. A riding crop lay across his crossed legs.

Laurent strode up to her and Richard. In her periphery she caught Stefan nodding once at Sarah, and she acknowledged him back. A hand-off perhaps?

In their friend’s and colleague’s circle, anything was okay so long as it followed protocol of safety and consent. Sarah and Stefan shared Laurent—and each other—in a unique relationship. Charlotte often envied how much they radiated the sheer rightness of their situation. There was no question they worked. It was the same with she and Richard—despite their fourteen year age difference. At least until her nightmares appeared.

A tall black man sporting gold eyeliner and the kindest smile appeared in front of Charlotte. “Ah, but first me. You must be the wedding belle. I’m Martin. Ready for your lashes?” He held up two pairs of false eyelashes pinched between his fingers.

“She is,” Richard’s deep voice said. “I’ll be over in a second. I need to speak with Sarah and Laurent. Alone.”

Now her curiosity piqued higher. He and Sarah turned away to talk.

Martin led Charlotte to a tall director’s chair, and they went to work. “They” turned out to be Martin’s team. A blond woman named Clementine who had the thinnest nose Charlotte had ever seen and another very short man who simply introduced himself as “Martin’s assistant extraordinaire.” His job apparently was holding out makeup brushes one by one like a surgical nurse while Martin dabbed at her face with so many different shades she had no idea what she’d look like in the end.

“Such lovely skin,” Martin said.

“Mmm-hhh,” his assistant agreed.

She wished she could see what they were doing. That’s when it dawned on her. There were no mirrors in the entire dressing area.

A few minutes later, Richard pulled another tall director’s chair next to hers. His hand possessively cupped her knee while the hair and makeup team worked her over.

“How do I look? she asked.

“Perfect.” He proceeded to massage her thigh with his hand.

“Everything okay?”


Okay, he wasn’t going to share with her what he, Sarah and Laurent talked about.

While Martin continued his “magic”—as declared by his assistant every few seconds—Clementine went to work on Charlotte’s hair.

First, her hair was pulled back into a series of sleek ponytails. Then the woman began to intricately do… something. It felt as if her hair was being braided yet it had to be something infinitely more complicated.

Charlotte’s collar moved a little around her neck as the woman worked around it. It wasn’t coming off ever, and it occurred to her then that she and Laurent had never spoken about it appearing in the show. Her fingers rose to touch it.

Richard’s eyes slated to her. “Good. Remember that when you walk.”

“I’ll try.”

He faced her. “Try?”

She nodded her head vigorously. “I mean, I will.”

After long minutes of being handled by so many people, a slight fog enveloped her mind, her shoulders relaxed.. The pull on her scalp, the soft dabs of the makeup brushes, and Richard’s hand massaging her leg, lulled her into a sort of trance.

“Relax your mouth,” Martin said. Her lips fell open. Martin tapped her lips with something. “This beigey pink is fantastic against your skin,” he declared.

“Pink does look good on her. Especially her cheeks,” Richard said in a low growl.

Maybe it was her turn to have her ass turned that particular shade? She was up for it.

Finally, Martin stood back a few feet and assessed her as if a painter was assessing his canvas. Richard stood up, and then crouched down before her.

“So, warrior or princess look?” Charlotte moved her hand to her head.

“Non,” Clementine cried out in a French accent and moved Charlotte’s hand back to her lap. “No touching.”

Richard’s hand on her knee tightened. “That’s my responsibility. And privilege. And I’d say you’re a warrior princess.”

A small crowd began to form around them. Sarah, Steffan, Clementine, Martin and his assistant created a half moon circle behind Richard who knelt before her. She wasn’t used to being towering above him like this.

Their faces were unreadable which only meant one thing. Something was afoot.

A rustle of fabric sounded and Clementine stepped back to let Laurent enter their circle. He held up the wedding dress she was to model.

Layers and layers of pale, icy blue silk dotted with seed pearls and Swarovski crystals cascaded like waves down the skirt of the dress. While the top half was a tightly fitted corset. The sheer cap sleeves and deep V neckline were adorned with Swarovski crystals that twinkled in the light.

“It’s more beautiful than I even remember,” Charlotte said.

“Yes, beautiful,” Richard whispered. He hadn’t risen or peered over at the dress. His eyes remained fixed on her. “Now, open her legs more.”

Richard slowly tried to part her legs. Normally, she let it happen. She loved giving him full access to her anytime he wanted. Let his hands move her body around, part her legs, do anything. It was at the crux of their relationship—fully consented to and fully understood.

But her muscles oddly fought his direction.

The answer as to why came through so clearly, she was shocked by it. The dress had entered the room. She almost said it aloud but knew how little sense it made. It’s fabric. Thread. Crystals. Not even her dress. She’d wear it for, what? Thirty minutes? It’s power over her, however, was unmistakable.

Richard yanked her up to standing, and she gasped. He spun her around and pressed his whole body against hers. Against his larger frame, she’d always felt smaller, delicate, yet oddly comforted by that fact. Right now, she wasn’t sure what she felt.

He pressed her forward until she had no choice but to grasp the arms of the chair.

“For that,” he growled into her ear. “You get two.”

Two what? Spanks?

He kicked her legs apart. She had to scramble a little to keep herself from pitching forward into the chair. A sliver of fear she might harm her make-up or hair entered her mind, but then vanished when she realized, a dozen people had circled them. They were watching her get a punishment.

He pushed her dress up her back. Now her bare ass was revealed to all. It wasn’t the first time many of these people had seen her in this state.

“Twenty minutes,” someone called.

There was no time for this. What was Richard doing? How about only what she’d promised herself to long ago. To be available to him. To trust him. To know whatever he chose to do it would benefit her.

His hand moved slowly over the small of her back, her ass and back up again. “It’s a shame this will be covered up in.. what was that?”

Sarah’s voice answered. “Nineteen minutes, Master R. Make it quick.”

“Ordering me?” he asked.

“Urging you on.” The steel in her voice matched her Master’s.

“Present.” Richard’s voice was as hard as she’d ever heard. She arched the small of her back, pushed her behind backward.

His fingers played along her labia, spread her flesh and found what they sought. He thrust his index finger inside her. She was still so wet, he had no trouble slipping inside.

“You aren’t ready for today, are you?”

She shook her head. “I want to be though.”

“Listen to me, Charlotte,” he said low in her ear. “I know what this is. No one will get within ten feet of you in that dress or in any other state without going through me. And to remind you of that fact…” His fingers left her. A small whimper left her throat at their absence. “…you will take these.”

Something cool and round entered her vagina. Then another. Ben Wa balls. And everyone was seeing him insert them.

His voice remained low. “Feel them. Know they are mine, and I am walking with you.”  Her insides flipped over. She liked the sensation, of being filled with something of his.

The collar should have been enough but now he was inside her.

Richard did know what he was doing—and she shouldn’t have questioned it even inside her own mind. When he touched her like that, her mind went blank. Her body stilled. Her demons quieted—at least for a little while. He took her fear and overwrote it. Now, he would be touching her on the inside, through two small metal balls, for her entire walk.

He righted her, spun her around. Her dress fell to her thighs and a trickle of juice ran down one inner thigh.

Richard, her love, her Master, gazed down at her with his dark eyes. “Now you’re ready.”


Read Chapter Four Here.

Author Notes:

I took a few liberties around Sarah’s fashion show location. This is the second building erected for the Smithsonian. It fell into significant disrepair over the last few decades and only recently partially re-opened for a public, free event, aptly called, Futures. This show was open from November 2021 to July 2022. According to Wikipedia, now “the building is scheduled to be closed for significant renovations, which would allow it to be permanently reopened as early as 2028. The building is being evaluated as a possible home for the National Museum of the American Latino or the Smithsonian American Women’s History Museum.”

If you’d like to read more about Sarah, Laurent and Stefan’s polyamorous relationship, you can do so in Fearless, an Elite Doms of Washington full-length erotic romance. Click here!