Sold to the mafia

20



Katia

I stifle a yawn as I lower myself into the cushioned chair in the corner nook of Isaac’s large chef’s kitchen, the smell of rich coffee filling the room mixing in with smell of bacon, eggs, sausage and pancakes. My heart skips a beat as I look out through the beautiful large windows at the early sunrise, marveling at the spectacular view of the immaculate landscaped grounds. Isaac’s property is truly picturesque, and the golden halo from the morning sun makes it almost look worthy of a scenic postcard portrait. It’s a far cry from the hell that I lived in under my last Master.

I shake my head slightly, by forehead pinched, feeling like this isn’t real. Instead of a Slave, I feel more like a pampered pet. Like I’m really his actual kitten. More than that, there’s been a shift between us. Last night, something changed. It’s only been one day and I’m already feeling like I’ve seen a side of Isaac that I’m sure he hasn’t shared with anyone. I just don’t know what to make of it.

“You need to eat something, kitten,” Isaac says, drawing my eyes over to him where he’s standing at the coffee maker. He’s stopped manning the multiple skillets he has going on the stove to pour sugar into a cup of fresh coffee. The long silver spoon clinks against the ceramic mug as I watch him stir it.

My heart jumps in my chest again at the sight of him. God, he’s so fucking sexy. Just like this is how Isaac should always be. He has no shirt on, his rock-hard abs on display, and his black silk pajama pants hang low on his chiseled hips, showing off his perfect V. His large cock imprint is easily visible and makes my mouth water with need. He’s not wearing any boxers and I’m just waiting for his cock to slip out of the slit in his pants.

Isaac finishes stirring the coffee, licking the residual drops off the spoon and walks over to the table and sets it down in front of me. “I know you normally skip breakfast, but I want you to eat when you’re with me. I will not eat breakfast alone; do you understand?” It’s hard to focus on his words with his cock imprint in my face and I swear he has a semi hard-on. I can practically see the vein running through his shaft. “Look at me,” Isaac orders.

I swallow back the sudden dryness in my throat and look up into his stunning green eyes.

“You will eat,” he says as a statement. As a fact.

I’m not hungry. I don’t do breakfast, and he knows it, but I must do as he commands. “Yes, Master,” I say, doing my best to keep my eyes on his. The way he’s looking at me, like he wants to devour me, is making it hard to concentrate. This is nothing like what I thought it would be.

I pull the pink silk see-through robe a little tighter across my chest. It already hugs my curves. Even more, the outline of my breasts and hardened nipples are clearly evident and the outline of my mound is visible whenever I’m walking. He’s told me that he wants me to wear this every morning, so I can be accessible to him whenever he pleases. I shiver as I remember his words. I want your pussy available to me at all times.

“Good.” A twinge of happiness goes through me as he turns away and goes back over to the stove to operate the skillets he has going. I didn’t imagine it’d be this easy to please him. I pick at the hem of the robe, and take a small sip of delicious hot coffee. I had no fucking idea what I was getting into.

I take solace in staring at his back, admiring each ridge of his muscles, the outline of his muscular physique, the crack of his chiseled ass. The small dimples on his lower back that my fingers itch to touch. I still can’t get over the fact that he’s making breakfast for me and serving me coffee. I should be serving him like the Slave I’m supposed to be. My last Master never did anything like this for me, never even cared if I ate at all. This relationship isn’t like what I thought it would be at all, and I have to keep reminding myself that Isaac is my Master. In this moment it doesn’t quite feel that he is. But I suppose even pampered pets have Masters.

I watch the muscles in his back contract with each movement as he deftly turns over bacon, scrambles eggs and flips pancakes in the skillets. I sit back against the cushioned seat, my mind turning to the previous night. What he told me. God, my heart hurts for him.

How could I not have realized? I was so concerned with fixing myself, and facing my own past that I never once stopped to think that Isaac might be hurting, too. That he might need help just as much as I do. I felt terrible when he held me so early this morning, comforting me, trying to make me forget about my night terrors, when it’s clear he needs to forget, too. When he told me about his mother, it all clicked. He’s had a darkness around him from the moment I met him, a sadness that I missed because I was too self-absorbed with my own issues.

Absentmindedly, I bring my cup of coffee to my lips and take a sip, enjoying the rich taste.

“Today you can go to work,” Isaac says, pulling me into the present and drawing my eyes back to him, “but the rest of the week, you’ll have someone cover for you. I’ve taken some time off for your training,” he finishes, as he piles several pancakes into a neat stack on a large plate.

I part my lips to object, but then close them. My dogs are my everything, and I would hate to upset their routine they’ve become accustomed to. And dogs are nothing if not sensitive to routine. If I don’t come in for several days in a row, I know more than a few of them will get worried; we’re a pack, I’m supposed to be there. It distresses me to think that I could upset them by obeying Isaac’s demands, but I signed a contract. I have to obey his rules. He owns me. “Yes, Master,” I reply dutifully, hoping he doesn’t notice my hesitation and praying that my dogs will forgive me.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. “Good,” Isaac says, half-turning to me as he continues to scramble eggs.

I have enough help to take over what I do in person.

“Master?” I ask.

“Yes?”

“May I do some of the administration work on my laptop from here?”

“Yes, when you have a moment, you may.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Well at least that won’t cause any problems with my work. It’s easy enough to handle. My laptop is still open on the counter. Isaac wanted me to go about my morning routine. Which means coffee and checking my messages. It makes me feel uneasy to be on my support group with him in the room, but at the same time I can see that he should know. Kiersten had sent me a slew of messages last night that I wasn’t able to answer until early this morning. I’d told her all about my contract with Isaac and she wanted to know all the details of my relationship. I pull the laptop into my lap and click the spacebar until it’s awake again.

I open to screen to find that Kiersten is already online and has replied only a few minutes ago.

Darlinggirl86: What’s he like?

I nervously pick at my fingernails. Both loving and hating that I’ll be talking about Isaac while he’s in the room. He could easily walk over and see.

My hands resting above the keys, I think for a moment, wondering if I should tell her. The truth is, this relationship resembles nothing like what I think a true M/s relationship should be. While Isaac is still demanding, I have more freedom than I think I should as a Slave, and his kindness totally throws me off.

Katty93: Not what I expected.

I only have to wait half a second before I hear a ding.

Darlinggirl86: What do you mean?

I sneak a peek at Isaac; he’s almost done with organizing breakfast, piling bacon on one plate and eggs on another. I bite my lower lip, wondering how to best answer her question.

Katty93: He’s too nice.

Crap. I feel awful after typing that, but I had to say it. That’s why this feels so wrong to me.

Darlinggirl86: Too nice? Is that good or bad?

I take a sip of coffee, staring at the screen and not knowing for sure if it’d be okay to tell her about what happened early this morning. It’s one thing to be vague about being purchased at an auction and not providing any concrete names or scenarios. It’s another to divulge something so personal. Plus I don’t want to violate the non-disclosure agreement I signed.

Katty93: It’s good in some ways, bad in others. But I’m only just learning what he truly needs.

Darlinggirl86: It’s only been one day, Kat. Give it time.

Katty93: I will.

Feeling guilty, I shut my laptop and set it on the windowsill just as Isaac brings breakfast over to the table, setting down plates of everything he’s prepared.

“Is everything alright, kitten?” Isaac asks me as he sits down across from me.

“Yes,” I say, flashing a smile that I hope doesn’t betray my nervousness. “Just was chatting with a friend who wanted to know how I’m doing.”

“What’s your friend’s name?” Isaac asks as he grabs a butter knife.

“Kiersten,” I admit.

Isaac slathers butter on each layer of pancake. “Ah. A coworker, I assume?”

I shake my head. “She’s an online friend I met on a support group message board. I’ve never met her before. She’s good people though.” I hope he doesn’t ask me about her past. I honestly don’t know much about it, even if he insisted I tell him more about her.

Isaac grabs his fork after layering his pancakes with a river of syrup and cuts into the stack. “I see.”

I’m surprised that Isaac doesn’t inquire into Kiersten’s background further. I thought he’d be very interested in the dynamics of my relationship with Kiersten and want to control my interactions with her.

I pick up my fork, and spear a small piece of eggs, but I’m unable to bring it to my lips. Instead, I watch Isaac devour his pancakes. I don’t know what game he’s playing here. I feel so lost and like I don’t belong here.

Isaac swallows his mouthful and gestures at my untouched plate. “Eat,” he commands. “Don’t make me have to tell you again.”

“Yes, Master,” I say immediately. I pick my fork back up and can only take a few bites of eggs before I’m forced to put it back down again. My appetite is nonexistent, and I can’t get my mind off how much I want to know more about Isaac. “Master, may I bathe you?” I dare ask.

Isaac looks up from his plate with some surprise, arching a sculpted brow as he looks at me.

“In the shower I mean,” I say quickly, my heart beating erratically. I want to give him more of me. Help him the same way that he’s trying to help me. Please don’t deny me.

Isaac shakes his head, filling me with disappointment. “Not this morning, no. I have to leave after breakfast.”

I try to hide the hurt that flashes in my eyes, but he sees it and sets his fork down, pushing his plate away from him.

He scoots his chair back away from the table. “Come sit on my lap, kitten.”

I’m quick to take him up on his offer.

“Tonight,” Isaac promises as he looks down at me with his lust in his eyes. “Tonight I’ll let you wash me… if you’re good today.”

At least that’s something. “Thank you, Master.”


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