Samantha allows the warm water to cascade over her body as she stands under the shower. Lifting her head to the water, she is surprised that Jasmine had left just days before. Jas has been trying to pull her into their relationship for years, thinking it is exactly what Sam needs, but it always feels strange. It always feels like when they are fighting, she is going to be introduced, and so it feels off.
It was almost like, at least for Jas, Samantha was a toy. Someone she wanted to have around when things were bad, but when everything was good, she felt like a nuisance. Sam had tried to engage with Jas the first couple of days of the trip, but she had always just wanted her alone time. So Sam would hide away in her own AirBnB, wondering why she came the moment she was finally ready to join the family dynamic.
It is hard to understand why anyone could be so warm one day and cold the next. It is almost impossible to understand where you stand at any given moment. Never knowing whether she was liked was hard, but this is why Marc was different. Chewing on her bottom lip, Samantha looks over her shoulder, out of the bathroom, to Marc sitting on the bed.
Turning towards him, she allows her hand to move the washcloth over her body. Quietly washing her breasts and her toned body as she meets his eyes, half squirming as she remembers the power of his grip. The way he felt when he pinned her down moved something inside of her that she just couldn't put into words.
"Do I need to wash my hair?" Samantha calls out to Marc.
"Yes, you need to get everything out. Wash the sand, dirt, and grime from the last few days. Wash your hair too..." Marc answers simply.
"Well, how will I get my back?" Sam teases.
"With the bath brush..."
"True, but I don't want to get in trouble for missing a spot," she says as she rubs her body with the washcloth. Bringing it up her left side, she lifts her breast as she drops her head to kiss around the ripples. "I mean, I am in the shower. Don't I deserve a reward?"
The low growl escaping his lips sends an involuntary jolt throughout her body. Her breast falls softly from. Her fingertips as her eyes dart up. Her heartbeat could be heard in her ears as she looked at him, waiting to steady her breath.
"If I come over there, I will do more than just wash your back, young lady," Marc announces coldly.
"You know I am just flirting, right?" Samantha says quickly, trying to recover as she turns her back to him quickly. She reached across the warm water to gather shampoo to massage it into her scalp.
"I know you are testing your limits," he answers.
"Yes," Sam answered, simply deeply embarrassed at how transparent she was, "What are they?"
"To do as you are told, nothing else."
"Nothing else? So, should I hold my breath? Because I wasn't told to breathe?" Sam responds automatically as a small squeak escapes her lips at the realization.
"Well, now, the only rule I have for you is only to drink when supervised. I won't allow you to try to kill yourself with drinking again."
"Yes, Sir... but I remember that Jasmine used to have more rules. Why am I different?"
"I owned her."
Samantha pauses at the rough finality of his voice. Closing her eyes she feels this hint of guilt of being the reason they broke up. Of course, he says that wasn't the case, but it still feels like it was her fault. She feels like she owes him not only for her life but that was lost. Opening her eyes, she allows the warm sissy water to cascade through her hair onto the tiles.
"What would I need to do to be owned?" Samantha asks softly, almost to herself. But still, in her mind, the question is deafening to her. The soft, quickened pace twitches along her forearm as she glances back, turning too quickly as her ass presses against the walk, causing a gasp as her hands go back to rub her ass once more.
Her mind races, wondering why she wants to belong to this man. The words already spoken terrify her as she focuses on trying to be small, invisible, waiting for his answer. It takes minutes of her showering to realize she never said it loud enough for him to hear. So, in moments, the soft ringing in her ears subsides.
She knows why she wants to be owned as all those pictures across social media of the lifestyle. Those short erotic gifs that taunt her about something just beyond her reach. She wants to belong, to be one of the girls told to stay put and expected to obey. To be someone he can count on, not asking him to do more endlessly but to accept him as he is.
She has never seen him happy, not truly. Always trying to mold himself to fit the needs of others. When she first saw him so many years ago, he exuded this kind of confidence that she could see. She was coming to be a new patient, but the moment she saw him, she knew she couldn't. He was the kind of man she could never just be patient with. She would always want more.
So, she began to stalk him quietly on social media. Finding his page and then seeing the places he went, she would bump into him occasionally. He always had people around him, so she was too shy to approach him. Not until she met Jasmine, who had been trying to approach him alone, did she meet her. Jas had this dream of being taken in a way that constantly and consistently pushed her boundaries daily, which sounded exhausting.
"What would I need to do to be owned?" Samantha asks louder, knowing it is a question she has wanted to ask for years.
"You'd have to be willing to give up control," Marc said as he got out of bed and walked towards her.
A sense of energy pulses between them as he moves closer to her, and Samantha says, "I am willing to give up control."
"Do you know your limits?" he asked softly. She could feel his warm breath on her skin but touched the glass wall between them. His power of their connection touched her in impossible ways, as he had this nearly overwhelming energy.
"No," Sam whispers, "I don't know if I have any."
It's not true, of course, but she has always had limits, as she has never trusted anyone before. There is nothing that she has ever trusted anyone to do; she has been a victim, mostly taken advantage of. More so her kindness and heart than her body. But from the moment she fell in distant, quiet love with Marc, he has never broken her heart or made her feel less than.
"You don't have any limits?" Marc repeats, his voice louder.
"Not for you..." Sam admits quietly.
"Then we would start slow, but I will ask you again tomorrow before we begin. To see if you still want it, you have such an emotionally charged morning so far."
Sam wants to scream her protest. This isn't something that she thought about at the moment. She has wanted to be his for years. She wants it now; she wants to begin; she has wanted someone who has wanted her. Has wanted to command and use her. But in a way that she felt protected and cared for, not love.the trash that is thrown away and discarded.
She wanted her use to have meaning, to give someone pleasure beyond their dreams. To hear words of praise as she collapsed and was emotionally and physically spent. She wanted to be loved like no one had ever loved her. In a way, her ex said she would never be worthy of it. She wanted to demand to be taken, dominated, and commanded at this moment. Her ass was warm, her body cleansed in the shower, he commanded; she was ready.
Then, soft doubt trickles through her mind, questioning her. Wondering how her demands would be any different from Jasmine's, she is instantly filled with regret. For she wanted what she wanted and had dreamt of for so long. Looking down at her feet, she feels quite small.
"Understood, sir. Sir?" Samantha says.
"Yes?" Marc asks.
"How can I call you Master?"
"That has to be earned..."
"Or Daddy?" Sam asks softly.
"Earned, too."'
"Sir?"
"Yes, Samantha?" Marc asks.
"Please treat me as a slave you already own..."
"I can't."
"I have wanted it ever since Jasmine has knelt at your feet. I just was afraid to ask."
"Afraid? Why?"
"What if I wanted more?"
"More? What more can you want once you are owned?"
"To be not given a choice. To be truly yours.. is that possible?"
"Yes, but that takes time."
"My life is in shambles. I am not working, going to school, or anything. I am yours Marc, to train and do wish as you please. To lock me up and throw away the key."
"Step out of the shower," Marc commands.
Samantha looks at him and pauses only for a few brief moments before stepping forward. Holding his gaze she pushes her wet hair over her shoulder as she looks up into his eyes, holding his gaze. Her fingers fumble in her hair and then drop to her hips, wondering what will happen next.
She watches as his fingers outstretched to her mouth. Without being asked, she opens her mouth to suck on his thumb as it slides into her. Her mouth pulls his thumb in, sulking upon it, standing naked before a man who merely slides his thumb into her mouth. Samantha sulking upon it as if it was his cock. Worshipping it with everything she has, sucking and licking his flesh, trying to be the best slave for him, someone who would never leave and throw him away.
Looking into his eyes, her whole body quivers in anticipation as Sam's labia tingles with excitement. She socks upon his thumb, looking desperately into his eyes as she does everything she can to please and prove she is worthy of him.
"I think it is time we began your training. This is your first lesson in training these holes of mine," Marc says in a husky, commanding voice. In an instant, as her excitement drips down her inner thighs, she knows she will need another shower soon, but only if her Master allows it.