Chatelaine

Introduction

Kyra stood in the foyer. Her trembling knees were the only outward indication of her nervousness. What did I agree to? What ifwhat if Scott isnt who he seemed at the club? She turned at the sound of a heavy oak door clicking closed nearby, and then straightened her shoulders, pressing her hand to her belly. These arent butterflies, they are pterodactyls!

Scott stepped into the foyer, dressed in a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. Kyra stifled a giggle, partly from nerves and partly because he appeared to be so casual in the midst of this grand mansion, Talk about dichotomy, Mr. Casualsurrounded by all this!
Scott came across the highly polished cherry wood floor to stand right in front of Kyra.

Smiling though he was, she fought to control her fears, greeting him with the proper, and expected, Thank you, Sir, for allowing me to come to your home for training and protection.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, Welcome, girl.

He ordered her to strip.Lay your clothes neatly on that bench, Kyra. Everything.

Even with her heart beating a rapid staccato in the hollow of her chest and her knees shaking wildly, she did as he requested.

Panties, too, girl.

She had taken in a deep, sucking breath and slipped the panties down over her thighs, lifting one foot at a time, stepping out of the wisp of pale yellow lace. She set the panties on top of the pile of her last vestiges of privacy and turned slowly to face him.

Good girl, he said, then lifted her chin in his cupped hand until her eyes met his. Good girl.

Thus began Kyras introduction to a life and a lifestyle she could have never dreamed possible


New Beginnings

The days, weeks and months that followed Kyras introduction to the true BDSM lifestyle and to Scott were both the most glorious and most challenging Kyra had ever experienced. At times, her fears overwhelmed her, and at other times, her memories did.

Scott had worked as hard as, or even harder than, Kyra during her training. He had to work harder than he had ever worked before to rid her of the anticipation of punishment she had come to expect from her previous Dominant, who, as far as Scott was concerned, had no clue what the lifestyle really entailed.

Through it all, Kyra had never outgrown her pleasure at the simple words, Good girlwords she had never heard used toward her in the past.

Scott had never stopped working to make sure she felt loved and safe, content and satisfied, with her life and with her submissiveness.
Scott was already experienced in the Dominant and submissive lifestyle when he first took her on as a submissive trainee, and until then, had never shared his authority with anyone. However, as she progressed in training, Kyra was given more responsibility for running the training facilities, as well as his home and property.

Kyra made a point of ensuring Scott would simply mention an idea, need, or a desire, and she would take it on as a goal of her very own, in service to him, always, but so much moreto fill her growing need to serve him. She loved doing things for her Sir, but also doing things for herself, something she had never been allowed to do prior to coming to Scotts home.

After having shared their lives together as Dominant and submissive, one night, while Scott sat across from her at the dining table, sipping his burgundy, and staring lovingly at Kyra, a slightly uncomfortable silence ensued.

Kyra, Scott tentatively began. What do you think about providing a training home for Masters and slaves? More than the few weeks of summer, when we have the regular BDSM camps and events scheduled. What do you think, my love?

She looked across the table into his dark eyes. He seemed amused at the range of emotions that played across her face in the candlelight, at least, Kyra thought so. What should I answer? She did not speak for a few long minutes.

Finally, Kyra said, Sir, I am afraid

He softly asked, Tell me, Kyra, afraid of what?

While Kyra struggled with her answer, he stood and walked around the table to stand next to her chair. He reached down to softly stroke her hair, from the part at the top of her head to the ends of the silky black strands that fell to her waist.

Kyra, he said, you will answer me. What are you afraid of, my sweet one?

Kyra simply shook her head but did not speak. She could not speak. A tear trickled down her cheek, twinkling in the candlelight. Scott turned away from her.

Scott filled two glasses with the rich, ruby red wine from his own vineyard and through walked through the dining room toward the living room, leaving Kyra to wonder all the more, Is he angry with me? What should I tell him?

Kyra sat, unsure of what to do, believing she had upset her protector, her trainer, her Sir.

From the other room, Scott yelled, Kyra, come here! Leave the dishes and come sit on my lap.

She knew how Scott felt about honesty, but Scott also knew she was struggling to put into words the fears she held inside concerning the idea about which he had asked.

Kyra settled comfortably into Scotts lap, tossing her legs over the arm of the overstuffed chair. She smiled a half-smile while she looked into his eyes and then kissed his cheek. Kyra accepted the glass of wine from Scott with a quiet, Thank you, Sir.

She took a deep, slow breath, a sign that she was about to speak her mind, and Scott smiled, knowing his woman, with her sharp mind and sweet nature, would tell him exactly what she thought.

Kyra sipped her wine, not so much thoughtfully but to give herself more time. She had known her Sir was waiting, and that he was not very patient, at least not at the waiting part.

She started by saying, Sir, I am afraid that one of the submissives will catch your eye and and well, that you wont want me anymore.

Scott spluttered and sprayed his wine onto the beige and rose Aubusson carpet. Kyra jumped, startled by his reaction, unsure and even more afraid. Scott wrapped his arms around her so tightly, kissing her and laughing out loud, nearly drowning out the music that softly played on the built-in stereo system in the corner armoire.

Hes laughing at me, she thought.

Suddenly, she giggled and then laughed out loud, too, burying her face in his chest. Hes never given me one single reason to feel afraid that he would not, did notcould not love me forever. She giggled, the sound muffled in the soft folds of Scotts corduroy shirt, her arms wrapped tightly around his broad shoulders.
Scott softly stroked her back, holding her close.

Kyra and Scott cuddled that night for hours after he had fucked her hard and fast. His softening cock lay trapped inside the hot, smooth crack of her ass, lying together like the shining spoons in the silver chest, with his powerful arms wrapped tightly around his woman, his submissive.

Kyra knew she would rest well that night, dreaming of the new beginnings with this man. She lay wrapped safely in the curl of his arms, her legs stealing the warmth from his, and smiled, acknowledging the safety she truly felt.

No, she thought while she drifted off to sleep, I should have known I have nothing to fear with Sir.