Homecoming Ch 01 9

Hey everyone. I am starting a series 'Homecoming' with this Chapter. So please let me know in the comments section if you have liked my story. I would be highly obliged with your feedback or constructive criticism.

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"You can do this. You can do this, Grace." The pep talk, even though she chanted like a solemn prayer, wasn't helping her anxiety.

Would Daniel give her the courtesy of his time? Would he insult her? Would he even open the door?

Several questions clouded her mind, but she knew, she had to take the chance. A year ago, she had left him—without a word or a respectful goodbye. So, even if he insults her, it wouldn't be his fault.

Grace and Daniel had been dating for months. Grace, in her early thirties, was a lush, beautiful woman with proud curves, gorgeous chestnut-brown hair flowing past her shoulders, and emerald green eyes. But it was her smile that took the breath away from Daniel every time he glanced her way.

Daniel, on the other hand, was the epitome of masculinity—tall, dark, and handsome. His years in the military had shaped his structure rough and rugged, yet the smoldering grey eyes weakened Grace's knees.

What could have been horribly wrong with a couple so enamored with each other?

Daniel, a dominant by nature, mostly had the subs in his place at the privacy and pleasure of his house. He mainly hosted play parties at his place, had scened with the subs until he had the fortune of meeting Grace. A couple of successive scenes later, it turned into a long term contract of D/s as Grace moved into his place. They were going steady until one fine day Grace took off without a word. It didn't just break Daniel's heart but trampled his ego to deprive him of the reason for her abrupt departure.

Mustering all the courage in her bones, she rang the bell. Half expecting that the housekeeper might answer it; she waited until the polished wooden door was swung open, and there he was—in flesh and blood.

At the sight of his magnificent look, air popped out of her lungs. Dear, Lord! The man has only gotten sexier with time. The five-o'clock shadow against his chiseled jaw, the stormy eyes and the back-brushed dark brown hair—Daniel was looking aristocratically masculine and irresistibly handsome. For a moment there, she forgot the world existed until his voice reverberated, and brought her out of the haze.

"Grace," his voice impassive, the tone was sharp.

"Master." The title came out of her lips breathy, like a prayer.

"Daniel," he promptly corrected. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your abrupt visit?"

He had always called like 'peach' or 'bad subbie' when she behaved like a brat, but the use of her name clearly suggested that she has to go out of her way to make her penance.

"I am here to see you," she told him, barely refraining herself from using the word 'Master' at the end of it. "I am here to ask for your forgiveness." Her head bowed in genuine repentance, while she was dying to be on her knees.

Daniel crossed his arms across his chest, his muscles beneath his crisp white shirt. "You were forgiven long before you asked for it."

Her gaze rose defiantly this time as she stepped up. "I am here to talk to you, to tell you the reason I left, and to have you accept me as your sub—you slave," she said boldly.

The stone, cold expression remained the same. "I am not obligated to take you back."

Grace smiled wryly, shaking her head. "No," she agreed. "You are not obligated. But at least, hear me out. I am asking—no, requesting you—for a chance."

So many emotions bubbled and stirred in his mind, in his heart at the sight of her. But Daniel has vowed never to be involved again emotionally, putting an iron casing around his wounded heart.

"I will give you the chance," he decided. "But the moment I ask you to leave, you will leave. Am I clear?"

She sighed internally as her heart leaped with joy. Stepping inside the house, she realized that nothing's changed. Daniel wasn't a man who has whimsical choices, in fact, he was a man who always knew what he wanted and he went after it. Grace was one of them. As she heard the door close behind her, she turned around to face him. Unsure of her next move, her hands dangled at her sides with uncertainty.

Would he ask her to kneel? For she had hardly sat on the couch of the huge living room, and even if she had, she snuggled on his lap—receiving the indulgent aftercare.

"You may sit," he invited, as he busied himself preparing two drinks by the mantle.

Grace sat, taking in the warmth of the home she had once shared with Daniel. It was beautiful, like a haven for her. Her wandering eyes stopped at the sight of the aloe plant she had gardened. She even painted the pot in a bright Prussian blue color. She realized, he missed her as much as she missed him.

"Here." He held the glass of amber-filled liquid before her as she gasped it with trembling fingers. The mere brush of his fingers made her weak.

Daniel took the seat across her, leaning back with his ankle crossed over the other knee. "Begin."

"Once upon a time," she began like it was a fairytale. "You told me, there's a submissive for every dominant. I realized you are the one for me. If there's anyone who can master me, it's you." As careful afterthought, she softly added, "Sir." Daniel didn't respond but merely trained his eyes on her, waiting for her to continue. "I will accept whatever punishment you want to deliver, for the inconvenience caused to you."

He took a long swig out of his glass. "A Master punishes a sub when the sub belongs to him. You are not my sub anymore. You left on your own accord. You played around with other dominants, and when it didn't suit you, you came back." He summarized in the most brutal way possible with an undercurrent of hurt and betrayal in his tone.

"Yes," her voice faltered. "What I did was...grave and disrespectful." Unable to fight her emotions, she kept the glass on the side table and got on her knees on the soft carpet. "I am begging for your forgiveness, Master. I am begging for a chance."

Daniel's fingers around the glass clutched it so tightly that it was a miracle that the glass didn't crack. "I didn't ask you to kneel, Grace. And neither will you get a chance."

Daniel had a firm reputation of a no-nonsense Dom—strict yet reasonable. In BDSM circles, he was carried the persona of the 'Dominant of the Dominants'. A handful of subs had the opportunity to be trained by him. In fact, Grace was envied upon at times, for had the heart of the man. And now, she had to show him how much he meant to her.

Grace inhaled sharply as though she'd just been struck. "Do you...have a new sub now?" Has she been replaced?

The question angered him, made his blood boil. How dare she? She left him one fine morning when it suited her and came back demanding to take her back, and now questioning if he has a new sub on his own? Doesn't she know she was the one who blistered his heart?

"That doesn't concern you. If you are done talking, you may leave."

"I have a proposition for you, Sir," she suggested. "One week. You give me one week worth your time, and I will show that I deserve to get my place back."

"What makes you think you deserve that one week worth of my time and my dominance?" he challenged.

Grace smiled, ever so little. "If you are willing to keep your ego aside for one second, you would know that I am worth your time." This time she dared and added. "Master."

His mind spun at her words. Daniel loved her spirit once. She was a woman who spoke her mind, respectfully, even when she was naked, kneeling and at his mercy. That was the beauty of her submission. He had the control her, but she had the ultimate power. But leaving without an explanation was entirely unlike her.

A part of Daniel knew why she left. But she could have spoken to him, right? She didn't. She fled like a coward from a battlefield.

Rising with lightning speed, he fisted her hair and tipped her head back. "If you think you would get what you want by goading me, you are wrong. If we are going to do this for one week—it will be on my terms."

"I would expect nothing less, Master," Grace revealed.

"The older arrangement remains the same, except a few changes. Seven days, twenty-four-seven—you will be under my dominance, my control. We won't encroach upon your hard limit, but I can come up with a punishment for each one of these seven days. And I will warn you beforehand, each one will be harder than the prior one. Needless to say, you would have your safe-words," Daniel detailed her.

He was exactly she had remembered him—an exacting but a reasonable dominant. He was nothing like the men who thought ordering and abusing women was part and parcel of BDSM. The element of attraction, eroticism, and passion was completely lost on them.

"I accept, Master," Grace told him.

"One more thing, Grace, I will not tolerate a single lie out of your mouth. There will be no secrets between us in these seven days—body or mind. If I think you are lying to me, I reserve the right to cancel this arrangement, right then and there."

A sliver of fear slithered up her back. This was her true fear, to open up her mind completely before him. He was demanding of her honesty, her deepest, darkest secrets. She knew it would be difficult, nearly impossible. But could she let go of her only chance to win him back? Hell no!

Blinking several times, she nodded hesitantly. "Yes, Master."

Daniel didn't completely trust her shaky words, but letting go of one chance to extract the truth out of her, consensually, would be a fool's doing. A dominant always gives what a sub needs, not what she wants. Grace wanted the easy D/s relationship, the usual submission, and control, pain and pleasure—but sometimes, a Dom and Sub are connected in more ways than physical. And as a Dom, Daniel had failed to teach her that. Well, he wasn't going to make the same mistake this time.

He vowed to make an honest submissive out of her this time.

"Let's see if you have remembered your training or not." He let go of her hair and took two steps back. "Do you recall if I have ever allowed you to kneel on the floor fully clothed?"

Dazed and overwhelmed, she gaped at him before lowering her eyes and reaching out for the buttons of the chequered shirt. Fumbling, she did manage to undo the first few of them, and then slowly did the others. Grace had stripped before him innumerable times, but right now, her cheeks flushed crimson at his order. He watched her slowly parting the fabric and allowing it to slide off her arms. The sight of her velvet skin made his dick throb. Inwardly, he was grateful for wearing jeans.

"Stand up and remove the rest. Leave the shoes," he ordered in 'that' voice which made her blood chill and got the heat flowing between the legs. God, how she missed being dominated by him!

On shaky legs, she stood up with utmost grace she could manage and unclasped her bra. A wave of self-consciousness rushed over her, but she dropped the brassiere anyway and moved on to the button of her jeans. Lush globes bounced free, with dark, enticing nipples poking out. Neither of them was surprised to see how stiff they were.

"Eyes on me," came the swift, hard command. Daniel had already sensed her trepidation, so he was not willing to let her have it easy.

Grace looked up and into his stormy eyes, searching for some concession. They weren't any. He was as ruthless as a Dom should get when a Sub tries having her own way. Dejected, with great effort, she discarded her jeans and slid off her white knickers.

Once she was adequately naked and squirming under his scrutinizing gaze, Daniel rumbled out the next command. "Get into the Inspect Position, that if you have remembered it."

His constant rebuke infuriated her. Goddamnit! She was trying, wasn't she? Then, why the hell, he needed to make things so difficult for her? Perhaps, 'Difficult' was the middle name of Daniel Blackwood. "I remembered, Master," she answered, yet the soft tone belied the anger in her voice.

Grace quickly got into the position he had taught her in her initial days of submissive training. Her arms were behind her head, with fingers interlaced around the nape, and as a result, the breasts thrust out for his pleasure. The feet were shoulder-width apart, erect in a semi-military posture. She tipped her chin up but made sure to keep her gaze lowered in submission.

Humming in approval, Daniel strode closer in slow, calculated steps. He stopped before her and wasted no time to rub his fingertips over her nipples. Grace inhaled sharply to stop herself from moaning from his touch. He teased her for a few seconds with the lightest of touches with his long, hard fingers. Moving on, he gently took the breasts in both his hands—weighing, cupping, softly kneading in his large palms.

Grace was a 34D—and fitted into Daniels's palms perfectly like his hands were made to hold and feel the round glands. The arousal made her body tight, her toes curled. Involuntarily, she leaned into his touched, begging for more and more.

Sensing her impatience, his lips curved up wickedly as he gave a sharp, unforgiving twist-and-pull of her nipples, sending jolts of erotic pain into her system.

"Did I give you the permission to move from your position, sub?" he asked harshly.

"No, Master," she hissed through the pain.

"Do want to safe word?" he asked again, with a slightly lesser painful tug at her nipples.

Grace closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, Master," she breathed out.

"Good." His hands abandoned her nipples and cupped the ribs now. Daniel was sorely disappointed with the bones poking out. Grace had such lovely, lush figured he admired. But the lack of it concerned and angered him in equal measure.

"You have lost weight," he commented dryly, rubbing the underside of her breasts, around her stomach and hips. Grace kept mum because she knew the answer would upset him. But who was she kidding? "Are you still going for your routine check-ups?" he asked.

She bit on to her lower lip for a moment before answering truthfully. "I am, Master."

"Look at me, sub," he ordered and she compiled quickly. "Then, why the drastic weight loss?"

Bull's eye. "I..." she stammered for a second, gathering her words. "I was on a diet—the Keto Diet. It helps to lose the flab quickly." Grace felt his fingers tightened around her soft skin and willed herself not to give in to her fear. If there's anything Daniel hated, was her insane desire to lose weight. Grace simply couldn't ever accept her curves were more enticing than anything.

One more lesson to teach her, Daniel vowed and didn't say a word. Instead, he only voiced his decree. "I will not tolerate anything of that sort under my roof. You will eat as necessary and you will sleep well, and maintain a healthy weight."

"I will, Master," she gave in. There was no point defying him when she was naked and exposed before him. And she wasn't going to use a safe word for such a petty issue when her crimes amounted much worse.

Bending down on one knee before her, Daniel lowered himself and the gush of her arousal assaulted his nasal senses. Sweet, sweet, heavens! Taking his own time, he glided his hands up and down her calf muscles. Heat flooded Grace's system as she fought the wild need to rub her thighs together. Slowly, her Dom's hands climbed higher and higher, just right below her crotch.

Just touch me there already, her mind begged wantonly. As if reading her mind, his thumb grazed over the mound and she heard him grunt with disapproval. Shit! How could she forget something so fundamental? Daniel has his preferences—and one of them was slick shaved pussy. He liked to see the evidence of his ministrations, the gleaming dampness of her arousal, every time he would touch her.

"I forgot..." she quickly confessed. "I am sorry, Master."

He rose up to his complete height, fixing her with a hardened stare. "It is quite disgraceful of a trained submissive to forego her education when she visits her Master, begging to be mastered. Don't you think?" he pressed, but Grace didn't answer. "Or one would say that the submissive was fishing for punishment, perhaps?"

"It honestly slipped my mind, Master, I will do it if you'd allow me later," she said.

"That won't be necessary," he dismissed. "I will do it for you. And then you'd take your punishment for the slip on the concerned area itself. The punishment should always fit the crime, right?"

Grace had taken smacks on her pussy for both fun and punishment. While the former made her come like a raging volcano, the latter made her howl in pain. Although, not painful enough to safeword out.

"Whatever you wish, Master," she answered shakily.

The thought of slapping her damp cunt made Daniel's palm twitch and his cock pulse. There was something magical about her that enamored him. The profound way they connected, it felt like he had loved her in some other lifetimes as well. The amalgamation of adoration and lust was fatal combo to his heart, this he knew.

Walking around, he stopped behind her back as his eyes skimmed over the curved back, his finger slid down the hollow of her spine, making it impossible for her to remain steady. She was at least happy that he couldn't see the struggle on her face. Daniel grasped her ass roughly—pulling her towards himself as he kneaded and squeezed rather roughly. Such tender buns, Daniel thought. Then he parted her ass cheeks to the fullest, inspecting the dark rosette for himself. The memories of him pounding her ass flooded his mind and made his dick ache. Unable to resist, he let it go for now and came to stand before her again.

"When was the last time you wore a plug? And how big was it?" he inquired.

Grace parted his lips. "I...the last time was...a year ago, Master," she confessed. The truth was, she could never trust anyone to have anal with her even though she enjoyed it to the fullest with Daniel.

Daniel brows furrowed. "Why is that? If I remembered correctly—you loved anal too. You never had an issue with that. Are those vanilla men too picky about taking your ass? Why didn't you try anal?"

Grace, without express permission, raised her green orbs to his steel ones. "They were not you, Master. I didn't trust them; I was afraid, they'd hurt me."

He took her chin between his fingertips and tipped up. "And you are not afraid that I'd hurt?"

"I trust you more than you know, Master," she said truthfully, hoping he'd see through her honest.

Daniel smiled sadly. "Maybe that's why you fled without a word," he countered softly. The big, bad, Dom was bleeding from inside.

Grace wanted to hug him tight—for she needed his embrace too. But she decided that she'd show him that she could be the trusted, loving submissive as well. "Punish me as you see fit, Master," she begged. "I am yours."

"We will see about that," Daniel answered impassively, steering back to his Dom-mode. His eyes now raked over her face, grazing over her cheekbones, eyebrows, the soft fringes brushing her forehead. He intently studied her features, noticed the elongated length of her hair as he took a long strand and rubbed between his fingers.

"Your hair's grown, too," he commented distastefully. Grace had a wild notion that she was flabby and the only way to hide her face was to grow her hair. Well, Daniel made it a rule to keep it trimmed to the shortest bob that suited her. With time, he, too, fell in love with the short hairstyle on her.

"The new hairstylist suggested...umm...that..."

He quickly cut her in and shot a furious look. "Choose your words carefully, sub, because if I detect a lie, you'd be out of the door so quickly your head will spin," he cautioned.