Buying the Virgin

Chapter 136: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Fifty-Two

MICHAEL

James pulls at his chin. “Does Charlotte know about all this?”

“I’ve not gone into details…. She knows I’m doing something, but I think she’s trying not to think about

it too hard right now…. Listen, one other possibility does occur to me, about Klempner’s motives. He

changed his mind when it was pointed out to him that he was retaliating against someone who was

completely innocent of what had happened. Even if taking Charlotte from her mother as a baby was

part of his reprisals, her mother wouldn’t know anything about everything that’s happened since….

What kind of revenge is that?”

“So…?” NôvelDrama.Org © content.

“So, Charlotte wants to know about her mother, probably to find her, and Klempner knows that. He’s in

prison for God-knows-how-long. Suppose he intends to simply sit tight, and let Charlotte do his work for

him, track her down? With everyone trying to help her because she’s the long-lost daughter, rather than

the psycho she’s hiding from?”

“And then pick up where he left off? Sheesh…. that’s an uncomfortable thought…. you think he’s mad

enough for that?”

“Yup. In fact, ‘mad’ is an interesting way of putting it. I’m told by Will Stanton that he may not end up in

prison at all. He’s got doctors arguing that he’s psychotic, criminally insane; and lawyers on both sides

saying he should be locked up for the good of the rest of the human race, but in a secure hospital.

Personally, I think he’s just an evil bastard.

“So, we go for it? Try to get back to a normal life, but remain vigilant?”

“Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty? Yes, I think that’s about it….”

*****

CHARLOTTE

I’m sitting in the lounge, reading, keeping my Master company. Michael is on the phone, chasing up on-

going work in our mountain home renovation.

Glancing up, my Master’s eyes are on me. His injured leg outstretched from his armchair, nonetheless,

he looks relaxed and comfortable. Chin resting on his fist, he watches me.

I know that look….

Smiling, “How are you now, Master? Feeling better?”

“Better? Yes, you could say I’m feeling better.” His deep, satin voice is slow and measured, and there is

no mistaking his intent.

I put down my book, kneel by him. His hand brushes my cheek.

“What would you like, Master?”

Leaning forward and down, he kisses me but winces slightly with the movement.

“Just sit comfortably, Master. I’ll come up to you.”

I stand, to perch myself on the chair arm, twisting around to allow him to kiss me, and to have my

breasts within easy reach for him. I’ve been waiting for this moment, and for the last few days, have

made a point of wearing blouses that either unbutton rather easily or which have long laces, to dangle

invitingly.

A pair of these now hang by my Master’s hands. He smiles, knowing exactly what I am doing; happy to

play the game. Running a finger along my face, down over my lips and neck, he drops towards my

slightly exposed cleavage and the trailing laces.

As he tugs at them, his eyes slide up to meet mine, warm with desire.

Michael, entering silently, sits by us on the couch, hands behind his head, watching. The laces unravel,

and as my blouse falls open, I lean in closer, bringing my breasts close enough to feel the warm wash

of my Master’s breath.

He inhales deeply. “God, you smell good….”

“Would you like to go into the bedroom, Master? I think it would be easier for you in there.”

“Mmm… yes.”

As he moves to stand, Michael offers him a hand up, but he brushes him away irritably. Michael backs

off, palms upright. “Sorry. Only trying to help.”

“You’re right.” says my Master, apologetically. “I’m not dealing with this very well, am I?”

Stiff legged, he rises, limping through to the bedroom.

“Would you be more comfortable standing Master? Then you don’t have to bend your leg too much.”

He’s embarrassed….

To save him having to reply, I simply bend over the end of the bed, presenting myself.

Nice, easy access….

With me in this position, he should be able to reach everything easily. Michael sits close by, calmly

watching.

My Master is grinning. “God, I’ve missed this….”

I twist back to grin back. “Anytime, Master. Just say the word. We’ll just do things the easy way for a

while.”

He flips up my skirt, hands massaging my butt-cheeks through my panties. “Now there’s a view to

make any man happy.” Slipping hands inside my panties, he tugs down, but as he pulls, his injured leg

buckles, and he staggers.

Michael is there, catching him, preventing his fall….

“Leave me alone. I don’t need any fucking help….”

“Yes. You do.” snaps Michael. “You took a bullet. It cut your main artery and caused a lot of muscle

damage besides…. For God’s sake man, I don’t think you’ve taken on board yet, just how close you

came to dying. And there’s no shame in taking time to recover from that. Now, if you would cut out the

stiff-necked pride, and let us help you, we might all enjoy this a bit more.”

My Master whips around, momentarily set to snap back at Michael, then he pauses, shrugs and laughs.

“You’re right of course, both of you. I’m sorry.”

“Master, the doctor said that it will take you a few months to properly heal. You’ll be yourself again, but

you do need to take it easy for a while.”

He nods, sheepishly. “What do you suggest?”

“Just lie down, Master. Let me do the work. If you exercise every day, you’ll soon be stronger, and then

you can slap my butt to glowing any time you want….”

He bursts out laughing. Even Michael chuckles. “That’s about the size of it, isn’t it. Alright. You win. I’ll

lie down. I’m sure you can work your magic on me.”

Flinching slightly as he swings up onto the bed, he rests back against the pillows.

“How about a glass of wine?” suggests Michael. “It’ll relax you a bit, and take the edge off that ache.”

“Excellent idea.”

“Back in a jiffy.” Michael vanishes off to the kitchen.

My Master smiles at me. “Sorry to be so grumpy. I’m not used to being disabled. I’m afraid I make a

poor patient.”

“It’ll be fine, Master. You’re better every day….”

“I just want so much to be able to make love to you properly again.”

“You always make love to me, Master. Just by being you. The sex is the cream on the cake, not the

cake itself.”

His eyes drop. “Of course it is.” he murmurs.

I undress, not too quickly, allowing him time to watch me as I release my breasts, to swing pendulously

as I move; to see me slide down skirt and panties, leave myself naked for him.

Then he holds out his arms to me. As I snuggle against him, he kisses my face, nuzzling into my hair,

but there is a tension in him. He truly is upset.

Michael returns with bottle and glasses, glancing approvingly as he sees me nestled into my Master’s

embrace.

He pours, passing a glass each to the two of us, then sits on the edge of the bed to sip his own. He

watches as my Master drinks half his glass, then eye-points me to move.

I’m ahead of him. I was also waiting for my Master to drink a few mouthfuls. Putting down my glass, still

with his arms around me, I stroke his chest and stomach, kissing his shoulder and neck from my

slightly awkward position. His breathing slows as he relaxes.

Running fingers through the scattered dark hairs of his chest, I circle his nipples with a finger, bringing

a smile to his lips. He puts down his own glass, then leans back, eyes closing.

Tracing his body with my hand, I follow the fine line of hairs south down his flat belly, to his groin, where

his cock lies quiescent. Trying not to look at the white scar on his thigh, I softly massage skin and

muscle. I don’t venture too far in yet, avoiding his cock and balls. This should be slow and gradual.

Exchanging glances with Michael, he is soft-eyed, approving. He thinks I’m taking the right approach.

I need to move. Sliding out from my Master’s embrace, I straddle his legs, but over the knees, not the

thighs or groin. His eyes opening as I position myself, he follows my hands as I stroke my body,

displaying myself for him, outlining the curve of waist and hip.

There is movement; Michael settling himself to kneel upright behind me, also straddling my Master’s

legs, but with his knees between mine, pushing my legs further apart. His arms curve around to cup my

breasts, fingers pulling at my nipples, elongating them. He nips and twists at them, sending frissons of

electricity skipping down through my belly to my growling pussy. I whimper and yelp as he repeatedly

tweaks and pinches; my Master’s cock twitching to life.