As he did so, June leant forward, tracing the tip of her riding crop across his naked chest. Lionel stopped for a moment, closing his eyes and seeming – to Allison - to savour the sensation. “Now these,” June interrupted him. A pair of steel cuffs were passed across. Lionel, took them and cuffed his own wrists behind his back. “Good. That is how you should be in the presence of your Mistress. Silent and restrained. Now on your knees.”A grunt of agreement, coupled with a slow nod came from the helpless man in front of them as he obeyed June’s order, scrambling to his knees with enthusiasmAllison felt that the scene evolving before her was all very strange. She’d been uncertain about how she would feel about Lionel’s response to June and what her own reaction would be. Now, though, she felt disconnected from the events in the room, almost as though she was outside herself, looking down at the three of them, her motionless in the featureless mask, June quietly instructing and Lionel. She had gasped aloud as he pressed in deep, and he felt her body tense up and release just as he filled her with his own release. Afterwards, he wanted to keep touching her, to hold her, to run his fingers through her hair. She had stiffly waited beside him and endured his attentions. After a long while, she had quietly asked permission to clean up. She had returned to clean him as well, which she had done tenderly, but with a cool separation. He could not put words to a request or demand that she stay with him that night, and she had returned to the slave quarters as she always did. In the weeks and months that followed, he knew that he could have ordered her to do anything, and she would have complied. He never found the words to make that demand. Instead, she would come to him every so often, and submit to his touch. She would not submit to his every desire. She seemed overly concerned about the nearly invisible marks the chains had left on her neck. She always wore a scarf or a.
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