The Major's Pretty Baby Face Ch. 04

I stopped to look at myself in the large ornate gold gilded framed mirror that took up one wall in the lobby to see a cluster of purple iris in my hair. The Major didn't say anything about other mirrors.

Matthew was at the front desk checking us in when I caught up to him. I put my arms around his waist to hug him and kiss his cheek as I pressed myself up against his hard lead body to hold on to his muscular arm.

When he finished Matthew turned to look at me and asked, "Did you peek?"

"Yes, Sir I did but not in the Land Rover's mirror."

"I'm sure you're wondering about our little side trip, beautiful. I found the meadow happen stance while drift fishing the River. I'm inexplicably drawn to it. Not too long after finding it I purchased it along with ten acres of the surrounding land.

Afterward I discovered a small abandoned cottage, or should I say the stone foundation of what was once a cottage with a well close by. The water in the well is cold and pure and I intend to rebuild on the foundation someday and use it as a getaway. If there is time we'll stop again on the way home."

'That would explain the blueprint of a Cottage you have locked in your desk drawer. 'It's so cozy looking; like a cottage from a Children's Fairytale Story Book. I wonder if he has taken any woman but me there before,' were my thoughts.

"Have you ever....."

I didn't finish the question because The Major kissed my lips, guessing my thoughts, "No Mary has not been there," and Matthew kissed my lips again, "Shall we go?" he asked taking his arm in mine, "our bellhop is waiting."

The bellhop pushed the brass trolley with our luggage to the elevator and then pushed it to our door where Matthew gave him a nice gratuity followed by a hand-shake.

There was a large muscular black man sitting in a folding chair blocking the door to my room. He was dressed neatly in tan slacks and a dark blue polo shirt and I noticed he was wearing spit-polished black brogans.

He stood up and moved the chair out of the away before shaking Matthew's hand warmly, followed by the brief hug that men do as they slap each other hard on the back trying to outdo each other to see who can hit the hardest.

From the man's demeanor and ramrod posture I guessed him to be a Marine; should I mention the Marine Emblem tattoo on his arm.

"Magnus, this is Chastity Morgan my Personal Secretary. Chastity, this is Magnus Augustine, former Captain USMC.

The big sissy did his time, barely, but didn't join the Reserves. He now runs an armed Security and Currier Service that specializes in transporting unique and precious items discretely, quietly and securely."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Ms. Morgan. This no account bum and I go way back. We were boots together," Magnus said smiling shaking my hand gently...'goodness,' I thought, 'his hands are huge. What an interesting contrast between the two men; Matthew's muscles are long and ropey while Mr. Augustine's are the bulging muscles a weight lifter.'

"I'm pleased to meet you Mr. Augustine. How long have you been married?" I asked noticing the plain gold wedding band on his finger.

"Not long enough," Magnus said displaying a friendly smile, "actually it has been fifteen years of wedded bliss to the love of my life.

Marrying Denise, my Nubian Princess is the best decision I ever made," and I was thinking, 'It's refreshing to meet a man who loves his wife and is not shy to say so; and what a unique term of endearment...my Nubian Princess! I wonder what she looks like.'

"We have plenty of time before our meeting, Magnus," Matthew suggested, "would you and Denise care to meet us in the dining room for lunch? Shall we say in an hour?"

"We would; Denise is looking forward to seeing you again and knew you would ask because the children are with their Grandma. I'm sure my Princess will be delighted in meeting Chastity. We'll meet you there and reserve us a table....."

The first thing I noticed when I walked into my room was the beautiful bouquet of blue morning glories in a planter on the antique Queen Anne's Desk. When I walked over to admire them I noticed the small lead glass crystal box in the shape of a heart.

Underneath the crystal heart was a single sheet of white linen parchment folded in three and secured with a red wax seal impressed with Matthew's initials from his gold signet ring; MTW for Matthew Thomas Wright.

It was addressed to me "Chastity" in Matthew's bold cursive writing. I broke the wax seal and unfolded it to read a poem written in the same bold cursive.

'Soft as eiderdown is Chastity's flaxen hair of gold.

Bluer than morning flowers of glory are Chastity's eyes that put to shame blue sapphires rare.

Her lips are softer than rose petals when they caress mine.

Chastity is mine to touch, to hold close; to feel the rhythm of her gentle caring heart beating with mine.

It beats softly beneath her breast to inspire my soul to shine as brightly.

Matthew was standing behind me as I turned to him; not so stern or rigid now as he looked at me with loving tenderness in his eyes.

"Matthew, did you write that for me," I touched his face gently, thinking, 'No one has ever written poetry to me before...I hear the rhythm of your heart beating with mine....I will always cherish this beautiful poem.'

"Yes and although not the prose of Lord Byron, I was inspired while we soaked in the tub sipping our tea. There is something else; open your heart."

On one side of the crystal heart was my favorite Belgium chocolate in its familiar gold foil wrapping. On the other side nestled on top of a red silk bag was a pair of stunning white South Sea cultured pearl stud earrings set in 18k yellow gold.

"Oh, Matthew, they're stunning! Thank you! My poem and now these beautiful pearl earrings; they must have cost you a fortune. Is that why you hired an armed delivery service, just for me?"

My head was spinning as I was thinking, 'The pearls in my necklace are South Sea pearls..... I wish my ears were pierced so that I can put my earrings on now....but a poem! Can you believe it! Matthew hired an armed courier to safely deliver my poem!'

"I did, however I wasn't sure if they would arrive in time. They were hand selected and matched as closely as possible by a pearl merchant in Japan. Mr. Saito's family has been in the business well over two-hundred years.

That being said, the cost is irrelevant. What good is money if not well spent. As good luck was mine your earrings arrived at the perfect time and good old Magnus took care of the rest."

Matthew took the chocolate from the crystal heart to remove the gold foil wrapping, "There are 11 pieces in the desk drawer," he said as he held the heavenly chocolate to up my lips for me to bite.

I bit the chocolate in half and then offered the rest up to his lips as lovers do, letting mine melt into a liquid, as did Matthew. We then kissed.....indescribable chocolate tingles....I can barely wait until Friday to have my ears pierced.

"Your full generous lips now taste like chocolate rose petals, baby-face."

I put the crystal box on the antique desk to put my arms around his neck to kiss his still chocolate tasting mouth and lips long and deep.

Matthew held me for a moment with his arms around my waist. My head was on his chest and could hear the beating of his heart.

"I'll tell you a secret baby face," Matthew started taking my hair down, "I've never written poetry to any woman until now. There I finished," he put the pins and elastic hair tie on the desk.

"You will wear your hair down and loose until our appointment with Ms. Carmichael. Give me your brush and I'll brush it for you......"

They were waiting for us when we arrived in the dining room and I now understood why Magnus referred to Denise as a Nubian Princess; the woman is stunningly beautiful.

Denise is tall and lithe. She has a way about her that is open and friendly; perhaps nurturing would best describe Denise when she smiles. Denise has soft light brown eyes and creamy brown skin, dark and rich, blemish free...the color of my Belgium chocolate.

Her hair is natural and cut close to her head to accentuate her long neck; gold hoop earrings graced her small ears. Denise's only jewelry besides the earrings was a gold wedding band, diamond engagement ring and small gold cross on a fine gold chain.

Denise's dress was form fitting with a traditional African flair; the colors and pattern bright yet tasteful. She was wearing simple leather sandals on her feet.

She and Matthew hugged briefly, kissing each other on the cheek before Matthew introduced Denise to me. Magnus was beaming from ear to ear; there was no doubt in my mind how much he loved his Nubian princess.

Denise and I each ordered a Caesar Salad followed by creamy Lobster Bisque that was the best I ever tasted. Matthew and Magnus had porterhouse steaks; for dessert we all had a nice cherry cordial with our coffee.

The conversation was light and friendly. I imagined I was Matthew's wife attending a get-together with another couple for a dinner date.

I was interested to learn that Denise is a first grade school teacher. I also learned the Augustine's have two children; a girl and a boy ages eight and ten.

Denise asked me if I would like to see pictures while the men talked about old times and good naturedly insulted of each other.

Of course I said yes, I adore children. Denise took a small but thick photo album from her purse. Goodness what proud parents they are....the album had pictures from birth to the present....

As always, Chastity made a good impression. She and Denise seemed to hit it off quite well, but then Chastity has a nice charming way with all people.

If I had given her flowers and candy, Chastity would be happy; candy, flowers and her pearl earrings, no less happy.

It is my poem which she treasured the most as I knew she would because for me the poem meant everything. I gave her a piece of myself as she gives to me.

The expression on Chastity's face as she read it far surpasses the six-grand I paid for the earrings. This is precisely why my beautiful baby-face deserves them........

Our appointment with Ms. Carmichael was for 5:00PM and we drove down the private road to her estate at approximately 4:45 PM.

I was under strict instructions to do exactly as told by while we are there regardless of what happened. I was dressed for business again in my blue dress with my hair put up in a nice bun.

I thought these instructions odd since we were there to inspect her extensive art collection; primarily paintings and sketches for us to write an insurance policy. Matthew advised me Ms. Carmichael's collection rivaled many small art galleries.

The Mansion was a three story brick house in the elegant Federalist style of Architecture with the original carriage house/ stables constructed of the same red brick. There were several out buildings including the smoke house, ice house and a single story caretaker's cottage of red brick.

Ms. Carmichael's Family's estate dates back to 1820. It is registered as an historical landmark with everything restored to almost original condition excluding electricity, central heating and other modern amenities.

We walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.....no answer.......we rang it again....still no answer.

We turned to the faint sound of hoof-beats in the distance on the brick paved driveway and saw a mounted rider approaching at a fast trot.

The rider slowed the gray stallion down to at walk about 50 yards from the mansion. And of all things she was riding bareback.

Ms Carmichael rode right up to the front steps and Matthew walked down the steps to grab the bridle to help her dismount.

Ms. Carmichael dismounted gracefully with not so much as a hello or a how-do-you do. She started walking towards the barn impatiently snapping her red leather riding crop in the air.

I started to follow her but Matthew stopped me with a hand gesture..........after several seconds, Ms Carmichael stopped walking and turned to us.

"Do you need a written invitation?" she asked loudly and sarcastically, "Gandalf belongs in the stables. Perhaps you think that I keep my horses in my parlor?

Are you afraid of getting honest horse shit on your spit shined shoes Mr. Wright?"

'This is not beginning well at all!' I was thinking, 'the Major said she is a bit of an eccentric, but this?'

"Ms Carmichael. I'm not one of your lackeys or stable hands to be ordered about."

Matthew led the horse to the porch and tied the horse's reins to the black iron railing, "I'll concede that you are the expert on horses and their subsequent rectal and urinary by-products; need I tell you what you can do with them?"

Ms. Carmichael came storming back with an indignant look on her face except now was slapping the riding crop angrily on the side of her boots....wow!

Even off the horse Ms. Carmichael is an imposing woman who no doubt is always accustomed to having her own way.

Lucinda's long red hair was pulled back in a tight braided chignon at the back of her neck. She was wearing a red checkered flannel shirt tucked in her blue jeans with the jeans tucked into knee high black riding boots.

Lucinda is also a tall woman and big boned. She is perhaps an inch taller than Matthew with the riding boots adding another inch to her height.

She stood in front of Matthew and tapped disrespectfully on his chest with her riding crop to annunciate her indignant anger.

"I was prepared to have you write a five million dollar insurance policy should you meet my criteria. I was open to invest millions in the mutual funds you manage; so far I'm less than impressed by you. Apparently you don't know your place!"

"Stop hitting me with your riding crop, Lucinda," Matthew said quietly.

"What are you going to do if I don't?" she asked not stopping.

"You'll regret it."

Ms. Carmichael cocked her arm back and hit Matthew's thigh forcefully with the riding crop. God that had to hurt and no doubt left a welt. The Major didn't flinch; he merely smiled.

I was instructed not to interfere but I already was beginning to dislike this woman.....how dare she.

"Try and hit me again, Lucinda."

Ms. Carmichael tried. This time Matthew caught her wrist as the blow descended pulling the riding crop right out of her hand.

He then leveraged Lucinda's wrist pinning her arm behind her back. In the blink of an eye she face-down on the grass with Matthew sitting on her.

Ms. Carmichael was struggling and cursing up a storm when Matthew said "Chastity, get the plain bracelets ready please."

I walked over to Matthew to give him the blued handcuffs from my purse thinking 'Good, now she is going to get her just dessert for hitting you, my love."

"Don't claim I didn't warn you." My Matthew said calmly as he forcefully spanked Ms. Carmichael's buttocks with her riding crop, "You're running with a big dog now Lucinda.

This dog has teeth and will bite you back."

When he finished spanking her, Matthew took the plain blued handcuffs from me and snapped them on her wrists. He took off her riding boots off followed her socks, blue jeans and panties which he handed to me to fold and put neatly in a pile.

When he finished Matthew stood up. Ms. Carmichael rolled to one side managing to get up on her knees. The Major grabbed Lucinda's hair and held her in place to prevent her from standing. She looked at him defiantly with tears in her green eyes. She hadn't uttered a sound during the entire spanking.

"As you well know I'm here for reasons other than money. I'll ask you this one time. Are you up for the challenge?

If not I'll remove the handcuffs. My secretary and I will leave; otherwise remain silent and we shall see."

Ms. Carmichael continued to stare at him defiantly, twisting her wrists from side to side in the handcuffs.

"I'll take your silence as a yes, Lucinda. Listen carefully; from this point on you will remain silent or your next spanking will be on your bare bottom and I won't hold back. Open your mouth."

Matthew put her riding crop in it, "Now bite.....very good. You like to play the part of a dominant. I have another role in mind for you. Do you know what will happen to you if you drop it?" Ms. Carmichael nodded her head for yes.

Matthew let go of her hair and walked over and rubbed Gandalf's face. "Your gelding is a fine example of an Arabian, Lucinda. He's obviously very well cared for; I would estimate he stands at 15 hands.

I don't believe that I will get horse manure on my shoes should we walk to the barn. The surrounding grounds are immaculate so I'll assume your stables are immaculate.

I'm also aware you are a writer of erotica and a published author writing under the pen name of Horse Mistress.

I also know you fancy yourself a Dominant. There is fact, and then there is fiction; fiction is often followed by wishful thinking which leads to fantasy.

You will answer truthfully now that you have experienced a little taste of what I am capable....stop, don't get up. Stay kneeling or else.

I'm surmising all your help is gone for the day, correct?" Ms. Carmichael nodded her head for yes.

"Did you prepare a meal or have a meal and/or refreshments prepared for us?" and again Ms. Carmichael nodded yes.

"Excellent, I'm aware you're a gourmet cook so perhaps we may trade recipes when you learn your place with me. No doubt you will let us play with your bondage toys because if the riding crop is any indication you were hoping to try them on me or Chastity; Am I correct?" Ms. Carmichael nodded yes.

"I'm not one for props or scripts, Lucinda. My methods are my own and I tailor them to the particular woman including you.

I suppose props have their place to elicit orgasmic pleasure in some.....my methods are more basic and subtle. You might say spontaneous to the situation at hand. You may stand."

My Master removed and opened a large lock blade folding knife from suit his trouser pocket. He always carries a knife of some sort with him. This particular knife is one of a kind.

Its custom made to be both light weight but strong with titanium bolsters and carbon fiber inlays.

The 5" ATS34-steel blade is absolutely razor sharp. Because of the handcuffs, Matthew cut Lucinda's shirt and bra off before making her to stand naked before us. I could see that Ms. Carmichael is a natural red head from her neatly trimmed pubic mound.

"What a big girl you are, Lucinda," Matthew commented closing the knife and putting it in his pocket. He took her hair out of the tight braided chignon to let it fall in waves to the middle of her back.

Matthew untied the horse from the porch railing and gave me the reins, "Follow us to the barn with Lucinda's clothing."

"May I ride him there, Sir?" I asked while petting Gandalf's face.

"What a great idea and you certainly may. It slipped my mind about the collection of porcelain horses you had as a child or your fascination with everything horses......and one porcelain pony.

You told me about the summers you spent during your childhood riding on your Uncle Martin's farm.

Perhaps Lucinda would like to see how a true submissive woman expresses her sexuality, Chastity.

Chastity's precious submissive sexuality comes to her as naturally as breathing, Lucinda; fact, not fiction or pretend.

Take off all your clothing please, Ms. Morgan."

As a teenager and especially during the first signs of budding of my womanhood, I often dreamed of riding a horse naked. Particularly after being stimulated and aroused when riding clothed in my Uncle Martin's gentle gelding.

I imagined then I was one of Epona's, the Celtic goddess of horses' handmaidens. In my dreams I would ride the mighty winged steed Pegasus naked and free as he galloped through the clouds of my imagination. I often wished I had the courage to ride Silver bareback while I was naked.