A Stranger Called Master Read Free

thinking about him too, but instead my mind and mouth refuse to work. My
Master was dreaming of me all these nights the same time I was touching myself
thinking of him? I let him untie my wrists then lift my hair so he can fasten
the necklace at the nape of my neck. I’m blushing, but I try not to think of
what my Master just said as I button my blouse, discover I missed a button, then have to start all over again.
    “Come on,” he says, taking my hand.
“I want to show you something.”
    And just like that, we’re zipping
down the staircase, out of the library, into the night.
    There’s a downpour outside,
blurring the trees together with the lampposts and buildings on campus. The
scent of rain mingles with the honeysuckle and roses in bloom on this balmy
summer evening, but I don’t have much time to savor it because we’re running
and slipping on the wet pavement, jumping over puddles, laughing hand in hand.
We’re both completely soaked, socks wet, shoes squirting water with each step,
but surprisingly, I don’t care.
    “Where are we going?” I yell over
the rain.
    “Still as impatient as ever, aren’t you?” he chuckles, hurrying me down a cobbled
pathway.
    I don’t press further, but I figure
that the only place of interest in this direction is Duane Hall, the old campus
cathedral, renovated to hold classrooms and miscellaneous functions. And it’s
most definitely closed at this hour.
    But he totally ignores the main
wooden doors and circles around to the back. Hidden in the overgrown shrubbery
is a hatch in the earth. He pulls at the heavy doors, specks of mud landing on
his beautiful face, and there--the hatch gapes open with a yawn. It’s pitch
black down below, with only slivers from a faraway streetlamp reaching the
opening, but he just smirks at me with mischief in his eyes..
    “Come on.” He jumps down first, then looks back up at me with open arms. “I’ll catch you.”
    I take a deep breath and jump. The
sensation of falling surprises me, but soon his strong arms wrap around my
waist, making me feel tiny as ever, and he gently lowers me until my feet touch
the floor. He holds me longer than he should, his breath slow and ragged. I’m
suddenly hyper-aware of every place on my body that he’s touching, his arms
against my waist and my back, my chest pressed against his. The air shifts and
I know he feels it, too.
    In a heartbeat, he touches his lips
to mine.
    His lips are soft and full and
sweet, so different from the touch he’s shown me before. Soon his tongue parts
my lips and he’s tasting me, brushing against my
tongue gently, softly.
    It’s as if I forgot how to breathe
and this kiss is all I have.
    Too soon, he pulls away. “This
isn’t what I wanted to show you yet.” He pulls the hatch closed so the basement
doesn’t flood, then leads me through the nave of the old cathedral. Of course,
all the pews have been removed and now it’s just a grand hallway to classrooms,
meant to impress prospective students and their parents. But the stained glass
windows are still here, as well as the towering arched ceiling. It’s darkly
beautiful at night, deserted like this, our little secret. The rain patters
against the roof, rivulets streaming down the stained glass.
    It’s a shame really, that they
tampered with Duane Hall for the sake of adding classrooms.  
    A note slices through the silence
and I find him by the baby grand piano, a relic from the building’s chapel
days. “ Shh !” I say. “Someone might hear us!”
    “Who? No
one else is here,” he says.
    “You know how to play?”
    He strikes another key but shakes
his head. “Not the piano. Guitar though.”
    The ivory calls out to me and
before I know it, I’m running my hands along the smooth keys.
    “Do you play?”
    I nod. Every time I’d pass it on my
way to class, I’d wonder how it’d feel against my fingers. The piano always
looked neglected to me, roped away in the corner when it was probably once