Amsterdamned

Even though he was adept at hiding his emotions, attempting to conceal his disappointment was an exercise in the futile.

"Would you like me to drive you?"

"Yes please." Her words were stubbed and spoken quickly. Something was off and he couldn't tell what, which made him uncomfortable as he was generally more than capable of picking up on subtext of a conversation.

"Up the stairs, on the bed of the room in which you slept, should now be some clothes for you to wear. Get dressed while I put my shoes on."

He watched as she silently stood and made her way out of the room, her head low. He questioned himself, he was sure she would stay but she had surprised him. He couldn't understand why she would want to go back to that life after receiving such an offer.

It wasn't until she returned, wearing the clothes arranged for her, that he realised the truth. As she stood there, in the strappy heels, the short pleated skirt and the tank top, wearing the accessory of a frown, holding a bag containing her stockings, cuffs and collar, he spotted it. There was a distinct glisten on the top half of her inner thighs.

"Ready?" he asked. His incredibly positive tone had stunned her slightly. For a man who was obviously so disappointed five minutes ago, how could he be so happy now? She couldn't fathom it.

"Yes" she replied, wearily.

Turning, she made her way to the front door and paused, giving him the opportunity to open it for her, but there was a delay. She heard him take a deep breath, as if preparing himself.

Renewing his conviction, he filled his lungs with air and slowly breathed out. From behind, his left arm reached around her neck, pinning her in place and holding her firm without applying any pressure to her throat.

She gasp and became rigid, suddenly terrified at what he may do. She felt his warm breath on her ear as he spoke.

"Since you left the room this morning, I have been trying to deduce why you didn't want to stay but then I realised... You do, don't you?"

"What?" she asked, nervously.

Suddenly, she felt him lift the skirt and without any mental decision, her feet opened slightly. His hand landed on her pussy and he felt how wet she was.

"You didn't cum, did you?"

"... No."

Suddenly, his began to play with her. His index finger applying pressure to her clit as he quickly drew small circles with it. She gasped loudly and her arms rose, her hands gripping his arm, not to pull him away, but to steady herself.

Under his loose, long sleeved top, she could feel his muscles. If she had been clear headed, she would've realised that Jack wasn't slight at all, she would have realised he was athletically built, defined and mostly muscle.

But she wasn't clear headed. All she was focused on at this point was his fingers touching her; forcing her closer and closer to her much needed orgasm.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes."

As she got close, he slowed down, keeping her as close to the edge without actually pushing her over. She whimpered helplessly and squirmed in his arms.

"Do you want to cum?" He repeated.

"Yes," she said desperately.

"Do you want to cum?" he questioned again.

"Yes... please?"

"Do you want to cum?"

"YES!"

"Do you want to stay?"

"... Yes."

"Pardon?"

"Yes!"

"Yes?"

"YES!"

Suddenly, he sped back up, pushing her over the edge as she started to convulse, bucking and moaning before her body tensed and a warm feeling spread around her before finally relaxing. She screamed as the orgasm tore through her body.

He could feel the extra gush of juices over his hand as she cum. He stopped and quickly turned her, holding her tight against his body, supporting her. Once she had regained some sort of composure, she took a step back and looked at him.

His eyes were kind and warm and a wide smile adorned his loving face.

"Thank you."

"Pardon?"

"Thank you."

"Try again."

"Thank you... Master?"

"Much better."