Colorado Christmas (Service & Submission Book 4) Read online

  “Thank you, I’m glad you’ve been pleased. Now, what time would we like to have breakfast and dinner tomorrow? Have you had time to think about it?”

  Preston spoke up for everyone. “Breakfast at nine thirty gives us time to sleep in and still have a semi-early start on the slopes. Dinner around seven will work, we’ll catch a bite to eat at the lodge and maybe a snack before freshening up for dinner.”

  “Perfect. The kitchen has been cleaned. If you put your dessert dishes in the sink, I’ll take care of them in the morning. There’s a fresh pot of decaf coffee on the counter in the kitchen. Help yourselves.” With a tiny bow to them, he pivoted on his heel and left.

  Everyone grew quiet then, the only sound the clinking of spoons on the glass dishes. Garrett finally broke the silence. “We’ll start on the easier slopes tomorrow, while Maxim works with Caroline on the bunny hill nearby.” He shot a steely gaze at both Inga and Avery. “And both of you will stay on two easy slopes until we all get our bearings and refresh our skills. Clear?”

  Inga rolled her eyes. “Good God, Garrett. I haven’t been on those hills since I was a child. Remember where I lived and grew up?”

  “Yes, dear. I remember where you lived, and I’m sure you think you’re fine on Devils’ Run. But I want you to humor me and let me watch you before we progress to the more difficult slopes.”

  Inga wanted to be angry, but couldn’t. His over protectiveness was just part of him, and losing his wife would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

  She knew Garrett needed to be sure he did everything to keep her safe, even when it didn’t seem rational. The thought of losing another wife had to be terrifying for her husband. That’s why she was overly cautious when driving, crossing streets, swimming, even taking care of her health and exercising. It had become important to her as much as him. As his slave, she wanted to take care of all his wants and needs, both the logical and irrational ones, even the ones that gripped him deep in his sleep. The fears that had him shouting or crying out in the middle of the night. If it soothed his soul and spirit, then she’d do whatever was necessary to assuage his worrying about her — including skiing down the bunny slopes and beginner slopes for a day.

  “Yes, Master. I’ll stay on the beginner hills.” She leaned over, kissing him gently.

  “Caroline is a quick learner.” Avery smiled at Caroline, giving her a thumbs up. “She’ll be doing great, you wait and see. We’ll be on the more difficult slopes by lunch. I’ll be surprised if we aren’t.”

  Maxim pointed his spoon at her. “Avery, I appreciate your vote of confidence to Caroleena, but I will be the one who decides how she progresses on slopes. Is that order clear enough for you, girl?”

  Inga felt her stomach flip and he wasn’t even speaking to her. Everyone looked at Avery, whose eyes had become large. “Yes, Sir.”

  Maxim pointed the spoon at Caroline next with an expectant arch of one dark brow.

  “Yes, Master,” his wife murmured.

  “Sorry, men.” Maxim looked at both Preston and Garrett. “I just wanted to be sure we are all clear on how this is working tomorrow. Clear up any confusion on who is in charge and who is making decisions as far as Caroleena is concerned. What your women do is obviously only your concern — unless they drag my girl into it.” He stroked his hand along Caroline’s cheekbone.

  Preston spoke up first. “I have no problem with you setting rules. It’s a good rule. And just so you know, if they’re going to get into trouble don’t doubt for a minute that they’re dragging your girl into.” He shot a cool glance at his wife. “But after the spanking Avery is receiving tonight, hopefully the remnants of it will be a reminder for the day tomorrow on how to stay out of trouble and be a good girl.”

  Avery smiled back sweetly. “Of course, silly. I’m always a good girl. Sometimes I just do mischievous things.”

  Garrett threw his head back, laughing. “I can’t even count on one hand the amount of trouble you’ve gotten Inga into in the past few months.” He pointed his long finger across the table at Avery. “You stay out of trouble tomorrow. All of you. You’ll receive the consequences together if you get into trouble together. Clear?”

  “Yes, very good idea,” Maxim said with a nod. “I agree with that. Group spankings and whippings for the bad girls, no?”

  “We’ll be good and stay on the mountains that are easy. We promise.” Avery had spoken for all of them.

  Maxim eyebrows furrowed, as if he was weighing their words. “Tambourines are good when they are behind mountains, but when they come to us, they become just like a basket.”

  No one responded, the group blinking at him, obviously puzzled. Maxim sighed, “It means: Don’t believe in any story or promise.”

  “What is it with your country and baskets?” Caroline looked at everyone. “He said something to me recently about if ‘you call yourself a mushroom, get into a basket.’” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

  Laughter erupted from the table, including Maxim. “And what was the lesson, my dear?”

  “Once you say you are going to do something, do it. Don’t back down or change your mind. In for a penny, in for a pound.”

  “And that, my comrades, is a lesson learned.” He patted her thigh, beaming at her. “Good girl! That was your first time being whipped, wasn’t it, Caro?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “So the rules are understood. No disobedience. Everyone knows what is required, yes?” Maxim made sure to stare at each woman in turn as he spoke. “And if you break rules, you will all be spanked together.”

  Inga knew she’d stay on that damn silly kiddie hill all day if he required it — and be fucking happy about it too.

  Chapter 7

  “I want you to bend over in the corner, both hands pulling your cheeks apart. You’ll show me that cute little asshole as long as I require it. Then we’ll spank your sassy bottom for calling my brother a ‘dumb asshole.’”

  “Ohhhh, Master.” She drew her cashmere sweater over her head as she walked, slipping her maxi skirt over her broad hips until it puddled at her feet. She drew her thong and bra off in the corner, bending over, her long slender fingers parting her cheeks.

  God, he loved his woman’s ass. Lush and curvy. Her long blonde hair brushed the floor and those beautiful cornflower blue eyes peeked at him from between her legs, looking at him upside down. For the thousandth time he thought she was simply adorable. He couldn’t imagine loving her any more than he did at that moment.

  Her cheeks were flushed both from embarrassment and the position of her head, but he knew that the act of exposing her little hole to him, the humiliation of it all, would be what she remembered most about the punishment he was about to inflict.

  Garrett stood, grabbing some massaging oil from the nightstand. He stood right behind her, not moving or touching her, but close enough to make her tense up. He then pressed the pad of his thumb against the tight pucker, feeling it pulse and wink. His cock lengthened, straining against his fly. His finger pushed insistently at her entrance, not entering completely, just dipping the tip in. The muscles flexed and quivered around him. He slipped out, tapping the little whirl again. She exhaled loudly, her hips starting to move — that is until he grabbed her left hip, stilling her.

  He flipped the lid on the bottle. “Wrap your arms around your knees and don’t move.” She quietly obeyed. “Is it your business what Preston does with Avery?”

  “No, Sir. But, she defended me on the plane and—”

  Garrett shoved two fingers dripping with the massaging oil into her anus, a low groan erupting from her, which slowly turned into a moan of arousal. “But nothing. Do you decide what punishments Avery receives? For that matter, do you decide what punishments you receive?”

  “No, Master.”

  “No, you don’t. Are you allowed to swear at people? And are you allowed to call them names in Swedish?” He then covered her bottom with the oil, until her round buttocks shone with it.


  “No, Master.”

  “How many times do you think you’ve been paddled for this, Missy?” He slid his slippery hand down to cup her pussy, and slipping a digit into her, while he swirled a fingertip over her hard clit.

  “Many, Sir.” Her legs began to quiver. It was time to end his sexual meanderings and begin with her spanking.

  Tugging on her elbow, he pulled her to a standing position. “Looks like it’s time to teach the lesson again. First, we’ll do a warm up.”

  “First?”

  “Yes. I warned you that if you misbehaved, you’d receive the metal travel cane, and to receive that you’ll need a warm-up first.” He sat on the bed, her large breasts eye level with him — and much too luscious to ignore. He drew her nipple into his mouth sucking on it, feeling the skin tighten, the nub hardening under his warm tongue.

  “Ow! Oh, God that hurts a little.” She tried pulling away from him unsuccessfully.

  He let the moist nipple slip from his mouth. “I’m sorry. I guess I sucked too hard. You okay?”

  “Yes, Sir. I don’t know why, it just hurt a little.”

  He shrugged. “No need to worry. I’ll make something else hurt now.” He winked at her, helping her over his lap, her upper body braced on the bed. He adjusted her position until her shiny, slick ass was centered over his lap. Gliding his hands over her soft mounds, he lightly patted them, watching the glistening cheeks delightfully wobble. Pressing his hand on the underside of her ass, he pulled each cheek up, watching it wiggle when released. He’d never tire of playing with her ass, but he had to set some boundaries — again.

  Garrett slapped each cheek hard, a bright red bloom of his handprint rising quickly. “Does the oil makes your spanking hurt more than normal, Missy?”

  “Oh God, yes, Sir.”

  He reached around, pinching a nipple as his other hand slapped her backside several times. Her ass warmed up quickly with the strength of his slaps, and he continued to rain the blows down faster, harder, not leaving any area untouched. She jerked and twisted, trying to avoid his swats, pulling her legs up until he focused the last few smacks to her thighs, turning them deep pink.

  When he stopped, he heard her quiet cries muffled by the bedspread. She took in a deep breath, quickly recovering, swiping at her tears.

  “I want you back in the corner, same as before. Bent over, your hands pulling those hot, red cheeks apart so I can see that beautiful bottom hole.”

  They both stood from the bed, and for a moment, she looked like she might defy him, her teeth gritted, nostrils flaring, her pretty eyes uncharacteristically dark. She’d come a long way in a short time, but that damn temper of hers kept her in trouble. Finally, she took in a shivery breath, walking resolutely to the corner with a very red, spanked bottom.

  Her crimson skin almost sparkled with the oil slickened over the inflamed skin. Upon closer inspection, he found her juices had gathered at the seam of her lower lips until the overflow leaked out, covering her labia. Yes, he was a lucky man indeed. He’d had the privilege in his lifetime of not owning one slave, but two, both women — while interesting in their own unique way — just as submissive as the other.

  Her arousal seemed pleasingly intense, her little hole blinking open and closed a few times, her labia red and puffy. She appeared to be having difficulty standing still. “Do I need to remind you that you aren’t allowed to come? Or how to stand still in the corner? I thought you learned those lessons months ago, but I’m willing to give a refresher. I’m good like that. Is that what you’re needing?”

  She took a deep breath, holding stock still. “No, Sir.”

  “I didn’t think so.” He watched for a few seconds to be sure she wouldn’t try to defy him again, then stacked a couple pillows at the end of the bed. “Missy, come lie over these. Bottom nice and high centered over them, please.”

  She gracefully came out of the corner, her eyes down, hands clasped behind her back. She climbed up onto the end of the bed, kneeling in front of the pillows, placing her hips over the center, straightening her legs behind her as she laid down. He lightly tapped the inside of her still pink thighs, urging her to open them further, then pulling them open so her pussy and clit would be visible to him during her spanking. He leaned forward, using the tip of his tongue to circle her clit, licking the sweet juices, inhaling her spicy scent.

  “God, I love your pink pussy lips. How do you say that again?”

  “Nätt rosa fitta läppar. Pretty pink pussy lips.” She sounded less than amused. He couldn’t seem to retain that phrase no matter how hard he tried.

  “Yes. And the other?” He actually remembered how to say the next phrase, but knew that for whatever reason just saying it made her blush and die of embarrassment, something he found endlessly adorable.

  “Fittsaft.”

  “Which means?”

  She buried her forehead into the quilt. “Pussy juice.”

  “God, I love that phrase. Your fittsaft makes me a happy man, Inga.” He stood quietly, looking fondly upon his mouthy nanny. Not many men were as lucky as he — not many at all. He had his own Swedish nanny and slave. And even though she had a fiery temper and a sassy, impulsive mouth, he wouldn’t trade her for anything. Damn her stubbornness though, he’d get her to restrain herself, one sore ass at a time, if need be.

  He picked up the travel cane, telescoping it to its full length. It reminded him of the antennas from the cordless phones of the 1980s. He swung it through the air, the whistling making Inga jump.

  “You will not raise your voice at my brother — or anyone for that matter. Clear?”

  He flicked his wrist twice, the cane leaving a thin bright red stripes across her pink bottom.

  “Yes!” She screeched, stiffening her legs, bouncing them on the bed.

  He lightly tapped the thin metal against her. “You have to be the most stubborn woman I’ve met — well, besides Avery. Nobody is like Avery. You do not swear at people.”

  He snapped the cane on the underside of her cheeks left and right, right then left. Then he added two lashes to each thigh. Inga shouted, rolling up onto her side, trying to use the mound of pillows to shield her bottom.

  “Missy, is that allowed?”

  “No, Sir.” She looked back at him, shaking her head, her eyes swimming in tears, as her voice broke on a quiet sob.

  “Then get into position before I add extras.” She closed her eyes before rolling slowly back onto her belly.

  “We’re almost done. You will not call people names, and above all, you will listen to rules.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He whipped the cane onto her rump two more times, leaving diagonal stripes on each cheek. He retracted the cane then, putting it back into the travel case. He quickly divested himself of his clothes, dropping his boxers to the floor, his cock springing free and bouncing as he climbed onto the bed next to her.

  He eased her onto her back, gently pulling the pillows out from under her, tossing them to the top of the bed. “Let me see this naughty backside.” He pulled her legs up, bending them up onto her chest. “Hold them there.” She wrapped her arms around the backs of her knees.

  In the diaper position, her red thighs and bottom were on display nicely. The inflamed skin from her warm up had faded to a pale pink but the angry red stripes from the cane were still bright — and would be for another couple hours. Part of him felt badly; he hated to see her sore and crying. But he couldn’t have her calling Preston — or anyone else — names and impulsively blurting out angry Swedish phrases.

  Damn her temper!

  It amazed him that as quick as she could fire up with him — or any other adult around her who raised her ire — she had seemingly endless patience with children. She never seemed to lose her cool with them, patiently answering the incessant questions, cleaning the continuous messes, and quietly calming the nonstop antics or tantrums of toddlers.

  He ran his hand lightly over her still well-oiled and sore, red fl
esh, gliding over her labia slick and sticky with her juices. He cupped her pussy, now prominently displayed between her spanked thighs, her scent wafting to his nostrils. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes, his arousal climbing and his cock jerking in response. He slid his own moist rod into the copious juices between her puffy lips, skating along her slickened innerfitterött — deep pink inner pussy lips — another Swedish phrase he loved. He pushed into her sex then, thrusting until he was up to the hilt, her walls tight and slick, pulsing and quivering. She clenched tight around him, forcing him to groan.

  “Bad girl.” He grit out behind his teeth. “I won’t last long this way.”

  Her giggle had him opening his eyes to glare at her. He drew out from her hot little cunt, thrusting his wet cock into her anus, his hips pounding against her glistening bottom, the warmth of her freshly spanked ass pressing against his groin. He pistoned himself into her, her legs bouncing against his shoulders, the friction of his body and hair igniting her clit. She keened and whined with each exhale, his turgid member rubbing and bouncing off her, his buttocks clenching with each thrust until he shouted with own release, followed by Inga’s shout as she reached orgasm.

  He drew out of her, pulling her with him, spooning behind her. “Think you’ll sleep well tonight?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He kissed the back of her neck, tucking the down comforter around them, snuggling against her.

  Chapter 8

  Caroline, the last person entering the room, sat down at the dining table for breakfast. Maxim sighed, grabbing his napkin, snapping the cloth before placing it on his lap. “You are late to breakfast, Lena. People have been waiting to eat. What do you say?”

  She cleared her throat, looking briefly at the rest of the group through her eyelashes. “I’m sorry you had to wait for me. It was rude and won’t happen again.”

  “See that it does not. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She nodded at him, dropping her gaze to her lap, quietly placing her napkin across her thighs.