His Surrender Ch 03

I wake, stretching my shoulders. The now familiar ache is somehow comforting. I smell coffee brewing. Ms. Carol must have stayed the night. I rub my still tender wrists, remembering the feel of the natural ropes, thinking of Ms. Carol's hands as they bound me. I crave Ms. Carol's hands on me, smelling her, being enveloped by her mouth. I want her to simply be pleased with me

I grab my phone and text "good morning." It doesn't matter that she is here. It doesn't matter that I will see her in less than five minutes. It only matters that Ms. Carol wishes a text from me upon my waking.

I lean in the doorway just watching Ms. Carol. Her already thin frame is baring the brunt of the chaos Frank's heart attack has caused. Her white silk tank and boxers hang loosely around her. Her shoulder blades are sharp, pushing out against the fabric. Her hair hangs in a single fat braid down her back, accentuating how frail she has become. It is interesting being a member of this little family. Carol, Frank and Edward the triad that has fooled the world and built an empire.

I pull Ms. Carol into to my arms, resting them around her waist. Her head falls back against my chest. It's as if our bodies were built to mesh. My hard cock lies nestled between the cheeks of her butt. Her sigh is deep, soulful, heavy in her chest. I hold her resting against me for a long time time before she resumes cutting fruit.

I unfold my arms, kissing the top of her head. We're quiet together in the morning, so different from the constant chatter that accompanies a morning with Anna Marie. I pull two cups from the cupboard filling them with the steaming brew. I take them onto the balcony where we'll watch the sun rise over the riverfront. Ms. Carol follows shortly carrying two plates of food.

She takes deep long draws from her coffee cup, her fingers wrapped firmly around it. She picks at the fruit on her plate, ignoring both the Greek yogurt and almonds. "Ms. Carol, starving your body isn't going to help anyone." I dip her spoon into the Greek yogurt and try to feed her. I continue to try the entire time we are on the balcony, still she eats very little. My first responsibility is to simply care for Ms. Carol, something she often neglects.

I am doing up our dishes when Ms. Carol returns to the kitchen. She puts her arms around me resting her head against my back. Her breath is warm along my shoulder blade. Her hand wraps around my erection stroking me gently. "Jessie, I'll be going to your first spa appointment with you. After you finish the dishes, please dress exactly the way you were the first time I picked you up." Her voice is soft but stern, the tone that demands compliance.

Pulling on the too tight low rise jeans and mesh shirt brings the humiliation of walking the street slamming back. For the first time in as long as I can remember I am having trouble maintaining my erection. I run my hand over my tightly encased cock, pinching and prodding. It responds immediately, but wanes again as soon as I stop. It's only been six weeks, but I can no longer imagine going back to my life before Ms. Carol.

The spa is in an old Victorian house. The only identifier a brass plate below the door knocker that reads:

Master's Way

Private Spa

Members Only

Ms. Carol uses the knocker. She smiles at me, takes my hand, squeezes and gently caresses my palm. It's a move she often uses to reassure and relax me. I had not been worried before but now I am on high alert.

The door is answered by a young woman. She is dressed simply, a white silk blouse, a very short black skirt and five inch black pumps. Her long blond hair is in a high ponytail. Her nails are soft pink ovals. A silver medallion with the number 198 hangs from a thick chain around her neck.

"Good morning, Ms. Carol. It is nice to see you." We follow her down the hall as she speaks. "Mistress Naomi will meet you in the parlor shortly. Can I get you anything while you wait?" Her voice is soft and pleasant. She never looks at me or even acknowledges my presence.

"Thank-you Jewel. Some water would be appreciated." It is Ms. Carol's gentle pleased tone, she clearly has a soft spot in her heart for Jewel. I feel a pang of jealousy. It is my place to care for Ms. Carol.

The parlor furnishings are classic Victorian. The heavily upholstered ornate chairs and and couches give a welcoming air. Ms. Carol takes a seat in a wing back chair adjusting the round floral pillow to support the small of her back. She crosses her legs, wrapping them together, tucking her foot behind her ankle. Her arms rest gently crossed in her lap. I stand beside her not sure what is expected of me.

"Jessie, please kneel beside my chair." It's that tone. The one that is simply unquestionable. I take my position without hesitation. A blush and wave of humiliation passes over me. Ms. Carol has never given me a command in public. Kneeling at her feet, in this room, dressed as a common street whore, I am very self conscious.

"Mistress Naomi should be just as few minutes. The bell is on the table if you need anything else Ms. Carol." Jewel's tone is soft and submissive. She hands Ms. Carol the water and leaves.

It is only a couple of minutes before Mistress Naomi arrives. She is a small woman, barely five foot tall. Her dark hair is cropped close to her head in a Peter Pan cut. Her skin is a soft caramel color, it has a moist dewy quality. Her blue eyes are dark, almost black. Her gaze feels judgmental as it passes over me. If I could make myself any smaller I would.

Ms. Carol rises to meet her, they embrace warmly. This time it is Naomi's voice that is stern. "Carol, you are bone thin. This situation with Frank must be terribly stressful. Sweetheart you must eat." I am unprepared for the passionate kiss they share. Jealousy, seems to be running rampant in me. Mistress Naomi takes a seat in the wing chair next to Carol.

They continue to chat for the better part of an hour. It is the first time I have heard Ms. Carol truly relax and confide in anyone. I pay close attention without drawing attention to myself. My legs have fallen asleep and I am uncomfortable, but I will not break my position.

When the conversation turns to a young man named Jacob, her last sub, I find myself experiencing pangs of jealousy again. I learn that he moved on to law school at Harvard, and that Ms. Carol still misses him terribly.

Then both women turn their attention to me. "Jessie, please stand up and remove your clothing." Ms. Carol's voice is soft and supportive, yet the command in it is clear.

I raise slowly, holding the arm of Ms. Carol's chair. My feet and legs are tingling back to life as I squat to remove my shoes and socks. Undressing in the sun drenched room, before the two women is disconcerting. All of my experience before Ms. Carol was dark and seedy. I have never been naked in front of more than one person. I am unsure how I am expected to behave.

I start to remove the mesh shirt, watching Ms. Carol's face for clues. Should I be efficient and simply strip quickly or is this a sensual slow show of my body. I run my hand slowly over my abs pushing up the edge of my shirt exposing several inches of skin. I trail my other hand over the exposed skin. Ms. Carol's face remains neutral, the familiar smile missing.

I change tack and remove my shirt in a single pull over my head. I fold the shirt and lay it neatly with my shoes. When I look up, a smile graces Ms. Carol's face. I remove my jeans similarly. My cock is flaccid, simply hanging between my legs. My eyes are firmly fixed on my feet. A blush covers my skin. This experience is very humbling.

Mistress Naomi rises from her chair, her movements fluid and graceful. She circles me slowly, clearly inspecting every inch of my body. My breath hitches when her hand captures my balls, fondling them feeling their weight. Then she is stroking my cock, pulling it to erection, pinching pre-cum from the tip. Her opposite hand runs over my ass, massaging and kneading my cheeks. I am uncomfortable with her handling me. No one but Ms. Carol has touched touched me since I became hers.

Mistress Naomi moves in front of me, running her hands over my abdomen and up my chest. She plays with my nipples rolling them between her index and forefinger, tugging and pulling them. As uncomfortable as I am, my cock has a different reaction, bobbing and drooling pre-cum, begging for her attention.

Mistress Naomi pushes up on to her toes, leaning into my chest she pulls my face towards her. I pull back, it isn't planned, I simply react without control. I still have trouble kissing Ms. Carol, I cannot kiss this woman. The bite of her nails into my nipples makes me cry out in pain. She grabs my face again, much more firmly this time. I resist again. I just can't bring my mouth down against hers.

Mistress Naomi releases me. My eyes find Ms. Carol, at first she looks upset with me. I try to silently plead for her understanding. Then a slow knowing smile crosses her face, I breath easier.

"Carol, he is a beautiful young man. But, you need to work on his behavior." Her tone is condescending. It makes me angry. My hands flex trying to hold back my reaction to the way she is speaking to Ms. Carol.

Ms. Carol raises towering over Mistress Naomi. "He is perfectly behaved. He has standing orders not to kiss anyone but me." Her tone is stern and angry. I know she is protecting me. I wonder what that protection will cost me later. Her hand comes around the back of my head. I lean down willingly.

I kiss Ms. Carol as passionately as I can manage. It is deeper, stronger and more emotionally charged than any previous kiss. We are both breathless when the kiss ends. Something inside of me softens. I am not sure why but I pull Ms. Carol closer and kiss her again. It is a deep Iingering kiss, my cock throbbing against her.

"Jessie, please resume your position next to my chair." Ms. Carol takes her seat once again. This time she curls her legs up under her, leaning against the arm closest to me. The presence of her body so close to me is comforting.

Ms. Carol and Mistress Naomi resume their conversation. This time it is centered on our day at the spa. Again I am listening carefully.

"Carol, I have you scheduled for suite Two B. Gayle will be your primary assistant for the day. Of course your services will be provided by our certified technicians. I noticed you requested an all female staff today, is it an error in the reservation or have your preferences changed?" Mistress Naomi's whole demeanor has changed. She is cool and clinical since their terse exchange of words over my behavior.

"The reservation is correct." Ms. Carol's voice is clipped and sharp. The tone is one I have never heard her use. I am sure the change is because of me. Ms. Carol has promised as long as I am in her care I will never be handled by men. It is clear she has no intention of explaining herself to Mistress Naomi.

"The reservation also indicates you will be receiving treatment along side Jessie, is that also correct." The tone in Mistress Naomi's voice is disapproving.

"Naomi your staff is amazing. They have never made a mistake with a reservation that I am aware of. Your judgmental tone is inappropriate. If it continues I will bring this incident to the attention of the board. You are here to make sure as members, my submissive and I are cared for. It is not your place to judge what that care is." I recognize this tone. It is all business, no nonsense and threatening.

"The services I have listed are: A clay mud bath, a wet eucalyptus sauna, a Moroccan oil body wrap, a deep tissue massage, a colonic for Jessie only, and finally a hot stone massage. Have I missed anything?" The tension in Mistress Naomi's voice is evident.

The words colonic for Jessie are reverberating in my head. I know what this is and it terrifies me. I have never been penetrated. I know Ms. Carol plans to do so. I have been made to handle the anal toys in the jewelry case several times. But I still find the whole idea as repugnant as I find men handling my body. My breathing has become shallow as I try to push the fear away.

Ms. Carol's hand runs over my head, her fingers playing in my close cropped hair. She deftly massages the back of my neck. She knows my fears, her hand on me is calming. I am very careful to keep my face impassive. I will not give Mistress Naomi something else to jab at Ms. Carol with.

Gayle is sitting behind a small desk when we enter suite Two B. Ms. Carol settles into the large plush chair facing the desk. She places one of the pillows on the floor at her feet indicating that it is where I am to sit. I take my place, curling at her feet and resting my head against her thigh.

Ms. Carol and Gayle discuss everything from my sexual experience and preferences, to the scents Ms. Carol would would like used in my care. Gayle voice is deep and rich with a Caribbean accent. Her smile lights up her face and travels easily to her eyes. Again it is as if I am not present.

When Gayle asks me to stand so she can inspect my body body it isn't at all uncomfortable. She goes over my skin carefully, noting dry patches and my uneven tan. Then she has me kneel. Gayle retrieves a small black velvet bag from the desk.

Gayle steps behind me, she fastens a heavy chain around my neck. I feel the small round medallion laying against my chest. I am sure it resembles Jewel's. I belong to Ms. Carol, I feel that all the way to my soul. Belonging to Ms. Carol is a warm and loving feeling, the chain and medallion feel more like possession and ownership.

"Jessie, your submissive number is 459. You will need to wear your medallion any time you are in the spa. It is how we keep track of Ms. Carol's preferences for you. Jessie please relax, we are not here to hurt you. The purpose of this spa is the care and preparation of submissives." The concern in her voice is evident.

"Carol, you know where the changing room is. I'll escort Jessie to the soaking room, join us when your ready." Her voice is still warm but now carriers a hint of command. I stand when Gayle taps my shoulder. Ms. Carol runs her hand across the small of my back as she leaves the room.

The soak room is completely tiled in stone. There are stone benches around most of the walls. There is a large raised dais in the center. A large rectangular tub is bubbling in the center. A woman is pouring a grayish brown powder into the rolling water.

Gayle settles me kneeling in a prone position next to the tub. Standing at the edge of the dais her hand never leaves my back. We wait quietly as the woman finishes preparing the tub. Ms. Carol is wrapped in a fluffy white terry cloth robe when she joins us. Her hand replaces Gayle's on my back, drawing a deep relaxing sigh from me.

"Jessie our goal for treatment today is to start removing toxins from your body. The first step is a calcium bentonite clay soak. Clay helps to balance the body with its alkaline pH. Its natural electromagnetic charge stimulates and revitalizes latent cell energy. Its high negative ionic charge gives living clay a strong drawing, pulling, absorbing and capturing quality. You and Ms. Carol will soak for approximately thirty minutes." Gayle finishes her explanation and leaves.

"Jessie, sit up please." Ms. Carol's voice is timid, an unfamiliar quality. I move immediately, allowing my legs to dangle over the edge of the dais keeping my back straight. Ms. Carol loosens her belt carefully sliding the robe off her bare shoulders. They are pale and covered in soft freckles.

Ms. Carol continues to allow the robe to slowly move down her body. My breath hitches as her breasts are exposed. I have never seen Ms. Carol's naked body. Her breasts are fairly small, high and firm. Her nipples are very large, covering more than half of each breast, pale pink in color, with a row of small bumps along the edge.

Her ribs are exposed, the skin drawn tight across her bones, her belly button is pulled almost flat. Her hip bones stick out, sharp ridges on either side of her flat pelvis. Her pubic hair is shaped into a small neat triangle starting at the top of her labia and extending about two inches. Her legs are very well shaped despite being thin. The press would describe her a scary skinny, I know she is simply fragile.

Standing in front of me naked, Ms. Carol's eyes are firmly fixed to the floor, she looks terrified. I want nothing more than to reassure her, take away the fear, the way she does for me. Suddenly, I am overcome by an intense need to kiss her. To hold her against my body and comfort her.

"Ms. Carol may I kiss you?" My voice is low and tentative. I do not want to make this worse for her.

Ms. Carol's eyes jump to my face, there is a look of confusion. She steps forward into my arms. I pull her to me, crushing her against my chest. I wrap my legs around her hips, capturing her. My mouth finds hers. The warmth of her breath against my mouth, her soft lips pressed into mine, has my heart racing. My cock presses into her abdomen, I want, I need, I desire, it is so strong pulling at me in unfamiliar ways.

Everything in me wants to pull her up so she is straddling me. I want to drive into her, holding her to me. Kissing her. Pumping into her, driving her higher. Watching as she gets lost in the moment shattering into a million pieces. I pump against her hip. Her nails dig into my back.

I continue pumping against her. My mouth pulling at her lips, our tongues wrapping and playing. Her nails dance over my skin. They alternate between tickling and scratching, occasionally digging in. Both of our moans driving me higher. I am going to cum. I am not going to pull away. I am not going to warn her. I will bear whatever punishment it earns me.

I am exploding, I push one last time against her. I pull her tighter if that is possible. Holding her to me as if trying to entomb her within my grasp. My cock pulses, emitting a warm puddle between us. I release her mouth and collapse against her shoulder.

Ms. Carol's right hand works its way along my neck, massaging the already relaxed muscles. Her fingers work the back of my head, eliciting new moans. When my breathing returns to normal, Ms. Carol taps my thigh. I relax my legs releasing her hips. I loosen my arms allowing her to pull away.

We relax on the stone benches. The thin slurry that covers our body's changing from deep wet grey, to pale dry grey. It completely obscures our naked forms, making us appear as statues with human heads. It is an odd effect. When we are completely dry two naked women escort us to alcoves on opposite sides of the room.

I am instructed to hold the bar above my head and spread my legs. The young woman begins washing my body. Running warm water over the clay, using her hands to rehydrate and wash it from my body. Her touch is soft, her hands massaging and relaxing me. My cock is once again fully erect, curving against my belly, jumping with her caresses.

When my body is free of clay she turns off the water and begins rubbing a sweet smelling oil into my skin. When she reaches my package she cradles my balls, oiling them using just the tip of her index finger. Her fingers wrap around the shaft stroking me with the oil.

She is working me, slowly at first, my breath deepening, eliciting soft moans. Then faster, more insistent, I am getting close to the point of no return. If she doesn't stop soon I am going to have to beg. I am holding on looking across at Ms. Carol, her arms stretched up, her hands grasping the bar, her spread body being oiled.

"Please I am going to cum." My voice is pleading. Ms. Carol is smiling. The woman is still stroking me. It is soon going to be too late. I beg again. "Please, May I cum? please? I can't hold back much longer please?" Her hand drops away. I slump hanging on the bar, breathing to recover. My hips pump involuntarily.