Chapter 17
Bianca
Once we're back in my room, we decide to shower together. Jordan, being the perfect gentleman, offers to shower separately since we have plenty of time before we have to meet up with his friends. But I tell him I want him with me. He obeys. Giving me exactly what I want.
While in the shower, he massages my back and shoulders. My neck, arms, and legs. He also takes it upon himself to wash my body and hair.
I enjoy every moment of him touching and caressing me. Even if it’s nothing more than cleaning my body. Not once does he attempt to finger my sex-sore pussy or ass. He simply takes his time cleaning every inch of my skin, taking care with the more sensitive parts of my anatomy.
It shows how much he wants to serve me. To care for me. To worship me like the goddess I am.
Only after I’m taken care of does he move on to himself. The water is cool now because he left the hot water and steam for me. Such a good, sweet, and thoughtful boy.
After the shower, it’s more cuddles. More lazing around on my bed.
We watch TV since a lot of stations still have Valentine’s-Day-themed shows on. We watch a particularly sappy love story but not in any great detail. It’s mostly an excuse to have some background noise while we make out and explore each other.
We kiss a lot, and as we do Jordan asks if I have more plans for him after lunch. And by plans, I know he means domination and control. Using my implements on him.
“You’ve been such a good boy.” I nibble his ear, biting ever so gently. “And you did treat me well during both of my first times, so I think you might deserve a treat or two.”
Jordan hugs me. “Whatever you think I’d enjoy next, Mistress,” he says, “I’m game for.”
I cuddle into him, wishing I didn’t have to plan our final moments together. My sendoff to him, my best boy ever.
***
One o’clock rolls around sooner than I think it will, but I’m not upset. Sure, I don’t like having to get up from bed. From the way we’re still cuddled up and go to lunch, but the thought of what I have planned after lunch — something that involves cuffs, a cock ring and a set of bullet eggs — makes it better. Sweeter.
From my room, Jordan and I walk hand-in-hand. I’m perfectly happy to let him take the lead here mainly because I don’t know where the café is. The resort must have added it sometime during the year. All I remember is that it’s on some second floor or other.
By the time we get up to the café, which is on the second floor of the lodge, the tables are packed. But again, it seems Mariah and company have secured a place for us. She’s the first one to jump out of her seat to get our attention.
“Jordan! Bianca!” She whistles, allowing me to see her clearly through the throng of heads, plates, and food. “Over here.”
With that, I let Jordan lead me through to our seating area.
As we near it, Alex comes around the table and claps Jordan on the back. “Hey, man! Whatever you left us early for, it better have been good!”
Jordan blanches, flinching visibly. I suck in my breath, realizing everyone’s noticed his reaction. Particularly Paul, the older brother, who eyes me mischievously.
Alex freaks out. “Oh, shit! Sorry, dude! What happened, man?”
Paul steps forward, his energy trying for playful, but failing. It’s more on the edge of being antagonistic. Probably from me insulting him over coffee this morning.
“Yeah, what happened, Jordan?” He pauses, looking at me and gives a wolfish grin. “Did she actually whip you, or something?” When neither myself nor Jordan answers immediately, he adds, “Oh my fucking God. She did!” He turns to everyone else, his face filled with glee. “he really did it. He really let her whip him.”
Murmurs of, “Really? Jordan, did you really do that?” and various combinations of this come out of Mariah, Jane and Alex’s mouths.
Before I can jump in and answer — bring down everyone’s excitement — another voice enters the space. One I’m cursing my bad luck for hearing again: Greaser Boy.
Out of all the fucking places he could fucking show up, he fucking shows up here. Now.
“Well, speak up Boy Toy,” he says, directly to Jordan and loud enough for everyone in the café to hear. “Answer their question. You let yourself get whipped, didn’t you, pussy?”
“Come on, Boy Toy. Not so brave now are you, boy.” He snorts out a disgusted laugh. “Speak up. Or are you going to let your old lady defend you too?”
The words 'old lady' lance my stomach. Almost punches the air out of my lungs, but it’s what I see from Jordan that hurts the most.
I’m expecting him to step forward. To be loud and proud. Brave in front of the guy, like he was when we first met. I’m looking for him to proclaim that nothing is wrong with how he is with me — how our power positions work — but he does none of that. He looks down and away. Embarrassed.
And that’s when my heart shatters to pieces. He’s ashamed of what he did with me. I let go of his hand, panicking. He’s just like all the others. He really doesn’t like being dominated by an older woman. That explains why he had no issues taking control in the banquet room. He’s a liar. A fake. A phony.
I bet he and his friends will have a good laugh at my expense. The delusional 'old woman'.
With that crushing thought, I take off running.
Even as he shouts after me, I don’t stop.