Page 57 of Beautiful Disaster

No unwanted memories.

Only praise.

Just his hand and his words, keeping me in the present.

“You were so sexy, sitting there in your punishment. Your obedience turns me on. Your submissiveness is everything. I will give you anything for it.”

“Yes, anything.” My breathing is picking up as the tingling pressure grows.

With his free hand, he reaches around my nuts and grazes an oiled finger over my rim. I spread my legs more as he strokes and rubs, but does not insert it inside me. It brings on a whole other level of heat.

My muscles are limp. The only thing tense and hard is my dick. Even my arms have fallen to the side as I get lost in his handie.

Mason nibbles my ear and throat, stroking faster. Harder. All I can hear is our mingled breathing and the wet slap of skin.

My orgasm hits me. I’m barely prepared for it, but I’m fast enough to catch my cum, so I don’t get it on my new pillow.

“That’s it,” he growls as he squeezes the last drops from me. I’m limp and numb, yet tingly all over. Not bad for a hand job. Better than doing it myself.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Quiet.”

“Meaning?”

“My head’s shut up.”

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes…”

We sit like that for a couple of minutes, then Mason helps me to stand. “Let’s wash our hands in the kitchen.”

When our hands are dry, he checks the simmering sauce.

“Pull out the two glass containers in the fridge, pet. I pre-made a meal for us tonight.” I root around in the fridge and find what he wants. I take them out and set them on the counter, waiting for my next instructions.

“Heat each one individually in the microwave for three minutes, stirring occasionally.”

I do as I’m told and wait, listening to the humming of the machine as I stare at Mason’s back while he stirs the sauce. His shoulders are broad. I know he’s got a nice back, but he’s wearing too many damn clothes. I wish I could see his skin, touch it. I’ll just have to wait until we go to bed.

When the food’s ready, he sits at the table, and I serve him. Before I can sit next to him, he grabs my bracelet and tugs me toward him. “Sit on my lap. You’re now free to talk.”

My stomach growls. I want to eat, but I have no choice but to wait for him to feed me my first bite.

Mason stabs a bit of broccoli and brings it to my mouth. Not a fan of vegetables, but I’ve been trying to eat more. Hoping I don’t gag, I open my mouth, and he feeds me a floret. I close my eyes and bite down. The usual broccoli flavor is nearly masked by sautéed garlic and salt. I chew and swallow, but I’m still not a fan.

“You must eat your vegetables,” he says, noticing my wincing face.

I want to snap that I just ate one, but there’s no way I’m going back to the corner. “Yessir.”

Once he forces me to finish my broccoli first, he rewards me with a bite of roasted potatoes covered in dried herbs. I swallow my food and ask, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I will, but you first.”

Is it weird to have a Dom feeding you like a baby? Totally. But I also like being treated as someone special, being babied.

Mason feeds me the sliced roasted chicken last.