Chapter 7

“May I come back this evening?”

“Can you doubt it?”

“I can hardly believe it ... what you’ve done for me.”

“I ... I’ve got a spare key ... if you want it.”

She pulled his head down to kiss him deeply. “Yes please ... Master.”

She took the key and kissed him again. “I must go now – I need to go home and change. Tonight, then. Tomorrow I have to go sailing. A cruise on Emily Jane ... teenagers with problems. I’ll be away until Tuesday. We’ll have to make the most of each other tonight. If I can suggest ... Chinese takeaway?”

“You’re on. I love you ... Pet.”

One last brush of lips and she made her way to her car and drove off, leaving James to contemplate the dramatic change in his life and decide on his next step. He sighed, shut the door and turned to put on an overall for his day’s labour.

There’s something to be said for routine. A self-employed plumber doesn’t really have much in the way of routine, but at least most tasks, even if not straightforward, follow a certain pattern. James sailed through the day, pre-occupied, but cheerful. At lunchtime he called on Amy, who made him coffee to go with his sandwiches while they talked. The twins were excited to see him.

“They won’t want to settle for a nap after lunch,” sighed Amy in mock resignation, frowning prettily. “Did you have a reason for calling, or did you come just to disrupt our day?”

“As it happens ... yes. I’ve asked Beth to marry me, and she’s agreed.”

Amy’s face lit up with pleasure. “I’m so happy for you!”

“What’s it mean?” Asked Andrew, just ahead of his sister.

“Well, if I’m your uncle, it means you’ll have an aunt to read to you and play with you.”

“And you never know ... you might have a cousin or two, in time,” added Amy, grinning at James.

“Hmph,” said James, not having thought that far ahead, and realising it could happen sooner rather than later.

“It is a not uncommon complication of marriage,” grinned Amy.

James was quiet for a moment, absorbing the idea, deciding he liked it, hoping Beth felt the same way.

“Anyway,” he said, “I don’t really have any close male friends. I heard recently about a man who asked, instead of having a ‘best man’, a lady-friend to be his ‘best mate’. I thought I’d ask how you felt about being my ‘best mate’.”

“Oh!” Amy was taken aback, and James thought he’d got a little revenge for her comment about children. “It’s a novel idea ... and I think I’d like to do it ... if you don’t think Marty might be more appropriate.”

“I thought of that, but I thought this was a way of showing how important you and the kids are to me.”

“Thank you ... I really appreciate that. I’m not saying no, but let’s think about it, okay?”

The day wore on ... and on. James’ mood was good enough that he didn’t get tetchy over the little obstacles that life throws in the path of any tradesman. He was, however, tired, hot and sweaty, not to mention grimy after working on an elderly boiler in a very dirty basement; he set off home with a sigh of relief ... and anticipation. Or was it trepidation?

Beth’s little car was not outside the house when he got home. He parked his van in the garage, locked up and entered the house through a connecting door from the garage. Leaving his dirty safety boots by the door, he stripped off his overall and dumped it straight in the washing machine, heading straight for the bathroom, where he stripped off t-shirt, boxers and socks without looking round and set the shower running.

“Ahem. Might I serve you, Master?”

He spun round, shocked he was not, as he thought, alone ... to see Beth kneeling on a towel on the floor behind the door...

“Strewth, girl, you gave me a turn!” He took a deep breath. “I’ll have to think about punishing you for that.”

She smiled and raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a threat ... or a promise?”

He scowled, theatrically. “Oh, a threat, definitely. There’s a more immediate priority, though ... getting the grime and grit off my skin.” Turning away, he checked the temperature of the water before stepping into the shower. He was not altogether surprised when a warm body pressed against his back and reached past him for the shampoo. He decided that being shampooed and washed by an attractive naked woman was one of the pleasanter experiences of his life; he just relaxed and revelled in the sensations until she moved in front of him and placed the shower-gel in his hand.

“Will you make sure your Pet is clean, Master?”

He didn’t answer; he was too busy working up a lather on her body, unsurprisingly giving greater attention to the more ... interesting areas. It was a ... very ... enjoyable ... way ... to ... unwind.

They rinsed off and dried each other. With a cheeky grin, she turned away, knelt on the bath-mat and rested her face on her forearms on the floor, wiggling her bottom at him. He reluctantly resisted the temptation to fall to his knees behind her and sink his already uncomfortable erection into her inviting pussy, instead delivering a stinging slap to her offered bottom.

“What?” She squeaked, looking round and almost rising.

“Count, Bitch!” He snapped

“OH!” She gasped, then; “one ... thank you ... Master.”

He delivered a similar smack to her other cheek.

“Two ... thank you, Master.”

“Better, Pet ... you may kneel to be collared.”

She duly adopted the appropriate posture and he buckled the collar round her neck.

“Master?”

“You may speak, Pet.”

“Why?”

“The first smack, Pet, was for the shock you gave me. The second was for attempting to distract me from my immediate plans.” He clipped on her lead. “Follow me,” then, when she started to stand, “no, on all fours, Pet.”

In the bedroom, he pulled on a pair of black leather shorts and a matching sleeveless top. He then unclipped the lead and handed her a terry dressing gown. “Out of scene, Beth.”

He pulled her to her feet and helped her cover herself before wrapping her in his arms.

“Are you okay? Is it too much?”

She shook her head. “No, just ... unexpected.”

“Very well, then. In about...” he looked at his watch, “ten minutes, the door-bell will ring and someone will deliver my order of Chinese food. You have three choices. Answer the door, nude but for your collar, accept and pay for the delivery, or, like that, but with the lead on, and me holding the lead, or, I will answer the door while you stay out of sight.”

“Weird... “ she paused, “I think ... I’d like you to be there, holding the lead. But ... just hold me like this, for a minute or two.”

For several minutes, in fact, she stood in the ... shelter ... of his arms, revelling in the comfort and security she found there, before gently releasing herself and stepping back, slipping off the robe and kneeling once more.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, “I am at your command.”

He clipped the lead back on. “Follow me, then,” and led her back downstairs, first to the kitchen to set plates to warm and put the kettle on, then to lay the table.

It was more like fifteen minutes after he’d looked at his watch that the door-bell rang, and Beth went to open it, James standing slightly to one side and behind.

On the door-step, a diminutive Chinese girl stood; of indeterminate age – anything between twelve and twenty – she stared at the apparition holding the door open. Her eyes were wide, but James was pretty sure there was a twinkle in her eyes and a slight smile on her face.

“Delivery for ... Mister Rob ... in ... son, Ma’am?” holding out a paper carrier bag full of cartons.

“That’s right, thank you,” Beth said, colouring. She held out a twenty-pound note. “Please, keep the change.”