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Chapter Sixteen
WinningIsntAlwaysWinning
HE’S called me Grace several times now when he should be calling me girl. But I’ll think about that later. Right now, I’m eager to experience what he has planned.
A crack of thunder booms out over my head and scares the shit out of me, but Vaughn’s reassuring hand comes down on my bare shoulder.
“Mmmm, I hadn’t thought about what kind of fun we could have in the rain,” he says in that deep, throaty master voice that makes my pu**y clench with desire. And just as I look up to assess the weather, the drops start falling. I make a break for it, but Vaughn catches me by the waist and leans down into my neck to whisper, “Water won’t kill you, Grace. Do as I say.”
I stop and clear my head. “It’s just a reaction,” I say, looking up at him. “Sorry, just instinct.”
“Instincts take a back seat to submission, Grace. Just listen to my voice. Now, I want those bottoms off you and this time I’m not in the mood for cute rebellion, understand?”
I nod and slip the bikini bottoms down my thighs until they drop to the ground. They land in a puddle and Vaughn taps each leg, asking me to lift my feet one at a time so he can pick them up. He folds them in half before placing them inside my bag with the rest of my clothes.
I’m completely naked now and I have to use all my self-control to not cover myself by crossing my arms.
“Lie on your back, on the ground, right here,” he commands, pointing to a swelling puddle. The drops are big and thick and they sting a little on my bare skin, and the last thing I want to do is lie down in the mud. But I walk over to where he’s pointing and lower myself. The mud is squishy against my ass and when I lay my palms flat, the water covers them completely.
“Good, girl,” he whispers, staring down at me. “Now open your legs.”
I bite my lip for this one and he shoots me a disapproving glare. The water is trickling down his bare chest in little rivers and disappearing inside the waistband of his board shorts. My eyes naturally fall to his hard bulge and I open my legs as I stare at his thickness.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but I think it actually grows as he watches my pu**y become exposed.
I gulp some air and the laughter of tourists on the nearby path excites me, making my insides throb with anticipation of what’s coming next.
“Now,” he says with a grin. “Tell me how you like it, Grace.”
“Like it?” He cannot mean what I think he means.
“How you like men to lick your pu**y. Tell me. Now.” The last bit comes out angry and I wonder if I’ll get another spanking if I refuse.
Not likely. He knows I want them so if I refuse he’ll make me do something else.
What, I wonder? Do I want to know?
I smile before I can stop myself and one eyebrow hitches up on his forehead. But a smirk also comes forth and I know he knows what I’m thinking.
He wants me to disobey too. He has something in mind for punishment and I’d like to know what it is.
“No, Master,” I say to soften my refusal. “I’m not comfortable doing that.”
“Your comfort is none of my concern. My only concern is that you do as you’re told, girl. Do you understand?”
“I can’t, Master. I can’t say those things. You should punish me.”
I catch him mumbling “Oh, shit,” as he turns to hide his smile. But then he clears his throat and turns back. “I will punish you by releasing you from my service. Do you want me to let you go, girl?”
“No, Master.” And for a moment I fear he might actually tell me to get lost. I stare him in the eyes as he thinks, and then he holds his hand out, an open palm, to help me up off the ground.
I accept it and he pulls me up and forces me to come right up next to his chest. “I will keep you this time, Grace. But your punishment is to walk back to your bungalow like this.”
“Naked?” I gasp.
“Yes, naked.” He turns me around and pushes me back towards the path I came from, then smacks me on the ass very hard, and gives me a push. “Walk, girl. And don’t look back. If you look back, this is over. Do you understand?”
I think he’s pissed that I said no, so I nod and squeak out a “Yes, Master,” as I pick my way barefoot through the long grass-covered path. When I came down this path a little while ago the sun was shining and it felt like a fairy tale—the flower-covered stone wall, the long lush grass under my feet like a cushion. But now the rain is pelting the foliage and the grass is matted flat in the mud.
Fantasy over. This is reality. And the reality is—I’m walking in the middle of a very busy resort naked.
At first I have no idea if he’s behind me, but once I get to the wall I hear some twigs snapping, so I know he is.
I turn back down the closed path that takes me to the sidewalk in front of my bungalow. After a minute or two of more silence, and just before I get to the chain that I have to step over to come out of the cover of trees, he places a hand on my shoulder. “I just want you to know that your muddy ass is beautiful. It’s filthy, Grace, but it’s beautiful.”
“Yes, Master,” I say. Even though he’s been calling me Grace, I’ve been calling him Master. I’ll have to think about that a little if I make it through this test with my dignity. I stop at the chain and peek out, trying to assess if anyone is on the path.
“Do not stop, girl. Keep going, and when you get to your bungalow, stop, turn around, and put your back against the door.”
I step over the chain and on the other side is a large puddle that I have to step through to get back to the path. I hear voices, but they are not in sight—the people they belong to are around a corner or on a nearby path. I’m not sure which, but Vaughn grunts at my hesitation and I continue through the puddle and step out onto the path. My pace quickens and I walk quickly down the small section of sidewalk that leads to my door. When I finally get there I feel a little relief that I made it, so I stop, turn around and then press my back against the door with a smile.
Vaughn is gone.
I fidget, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I wait. After several minutes of this torture, wondering if people will walk by and see me standing here, covered in mud and bare naked, I hear him talking to someone down the path, out of sight.
It’s another man. A deep voice that has a hearty laugh to it. I can hear them as they talk low, but I can’t make out the words.