Tender Mercies - By Kitty Thomas Page 0,54

Darcy. For good. It was too much having her memory hanging over everything. At first he considered putting the bullwhip in the bottom of the toy box. But every time he went to get something, it would be there, poking its little snake-like body out at inopportune moments as he pawed through the other items in the trunk for a riding crop or paddle or nipple clamps.

No, it couldn’t stay in any space that was meant for him and Grace. The possibility of throwing it out or burning it crossed his mind, but he didn’t feel ready for that step. Instead, he stuffed it in the back of a hall closet––out of sight, out of mind.

Determined to not think about it anymore, he stopped by the kitchen, then went outside to meet Grace in the garden. She was so adorable he could eat her, and probably would a bit later. She was on her hands and knees on a quilt, digging in the garden. He was surprised by how good at it she was.

She’d taken the garden design books William brought her and created something that was nothing short of a work of art, with colorful patterns and designs more intricate than the patchwork quilt spread beneath her. She’d even taken into consideration how the garden would look at different times of the year. Though they didn’t have full seasons, a few of the plants went through various changes. She’d managed to make the garden flourish even though there hadn’t been as much rain and the crops weren’t doing as well as most years.

She wore a fitted, cotton top with thin straps that were falling off her delicate shoulders. Her denim shorts had been specially made with a small hole in the back through which a butt plug with a tail could be, and had been, inserted.

A headband with kitty ears held her hair back away from her face. He didn’t make her dress like a kitty anime girl all the time, but seeing her mildly humiliated did something to him. Asher kicked his sandals off and came to stand beside her. She leaned against his leg like she always did, and he stroked the back of her neck. Her limbs were so glowing and tanned it was hard to believe this was the same thin, pale woman he’d bought months before.

“Kitten, you need to drink something. You’ve been out in this heat too long.” He handed her a glass of lemonade he’d brought from the kitchen.

“Thank you, Master.”

He sat next to her while she drank, stroking her hair. “Lie down on your stomach,” he said when she handed the empty glass back to him. Her eyes didn’t even question anymore. Whatever he asked her to do, she just did it. And he never got tired of that lack of resistance. Her fear of him had largely disappeared, but her manner more than made up for the shift. Though she didn’t live in an active state of terror, there was an air of fragility around her that he wanted to protect.

When she was stretched across the quilt, he opened a jar of shea butter she’d brought with her but had failed to put on. “Are we falling behind on moisturizing?”

“I’m sorry, Master.” And she sounded it. The tiniest mistake, and he could practically hear the self-recrimination bumping around in her head. “I meant to, but I got distracted by the garden.”

His eyes shifted to the cell phone lying on the blanket. “And maybe talking on the phone?”

Asher hadn’t physically punished her with the cane yet. So far her minor infractions had resulted in writing lines or standing in the corner. Once he’d put a gag in her mouth with something foul tasting, but harmless, when she’d slipped and spoken a little too casually with him. It had been an effective punishment.

But he hadn’t used the cane, which kept her on edge any time she did something wrong, wondering if this would be the infraction that brought the full reality of punishment on her.

“I’m not upset with you. I didn’t give you a specific time to do it by,” he said. “Still, I like your skin soft for me. You know the sun dries you out, and I don’t like that.”

“I’m sorry.”

He started rubbing the shea butter over her legs and feet, and smiled when she let out a moan and squirmed. She’d be wet, of course. Any time he touched her, in even the most innocent way, her body responded,