Page 4 of It'll Be Fun
“Hey, Mister Master. Want to help a slave out with schlepping groceries?” she called from the door leading from the office.
He smiled and walked over. “IsupposeI can help you.” He gave her a kiss and delivered a playful swat to her ass. “How was breakfast?” He followed her outside to Marcia’s car.
“Good. When did you get here?”
“A few minutes ago. I’m just starting measuring.”
“We have a suggestion…” Marcia told him about their idea for leaving the one corner bare of carpet tiles, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I like that plan, too,” Derrick said. “I’ll still order plenty of extras in case we ever need to replace any. We can put down linoleum or something in that corner.”
Once they had the car unloaded, Derrick locked the office door and smiled at her, waggling a finger in her direction. “How about getting appropriately attired?”
She glared at him. “Seriously?”
He arched an eyebrow at her and waited.
They didn’t have any early classes today, and weren’t expecting anyone for at least four hours. Grumbling, she started pulling off her shirt as she walked back into the dungeon to go put the groceries away in the kitchen area. After stripping down to her wedding ring and day collar, she got busy in the kitchen.
“Nowthat’swhat I’m talking about,” he said as he walked over.
“Hey, you want play time, I need to getthisshit done first, Mister Master. Go finishyourstuff,thenwe can play.”
One of the benefits about owning a dungeon was that despite the rules prohibiting sex, if they were alone and had the door locked, they could have sex if they wanted to.
Sometimes, if their week at work was crazy, especially during income tax season, since they ran a CPA firm, the only times they got to have sex were at the club during off-hours, when they arrived early to clean or do maintenance.
Or put away groceries.
He delivered a smack to her ass that held more sting than the previous one. “Listen, wench, that’s Mister MasterSir, to you, you mouthy thing.” He grinned.
She rose up onto her toes to kiss him. “Then go fucking finishyourshit, Mister Master PoobahSir.”
“You’re awfully mouthy for a slave. You know that?”
“And you’re awfully mouthy for a guy who wants to get laid in a few minutes.”
He thought about it. “Fair point.” He grinned and brushed another kiss across her lips before turning and heading back to the new side.
It took her about twenty minutes to get the kitchen put into order. Then she needed to clean the bathrooms, which weren’t nasty or anything, they just needed a quick wipe-down. One of their volunteers came in twice a month—and they paid her—to do a thorough cleaning of the bathrooms and floors.
Once she finished with that, she headed over to the new side, where Derrick stood staring up at the two “trapeze bars” they had hanging from the ceiling at the front of the space. They weren’t hard-points for suspension, though.
“Whatcha thinking?” she asked.
“I saw a picture of a girder-like structure at a big rope convention up in Vancouver. I was wondering if we could do something like that here, but suspend it so it wouldn’t take up floor space.”
She realized he was staring up at the steel girders overhead that held up the warehouse space’s roof. “I’m going to go with noooo,” she said.
“Why not?”
She pointed. “For starters, shock load. You’d need heavy-duty clamps to handle the weight of the structure and the weight of the bottoms. That’s too much weight. Let’s just put clamps and chains up. We can tie the chains up when we’re not using them to keep them out of the way.”
Marcia’s step-father was a contractor, and she’d practically grown up helping out with his business, and was damned good when it came to construction and building. She’d actually been the one to plan the office structure and sketch it out.
Derrick scratched at his chin. “Yeah, you’re right.”
She playfully gasped. “Whaaaat? Mister Master Poobah Sir thinks the slave isright? Oh. My.God.”
