To Train A Wild Rose

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Chapter 25 - A French Lesson

So… that night, I went back to sleeping in my babygirl bed!

And, the next morning, I was just so excited when I woke up before my master that I couldn’t wait so I sort of scurried over to kneel at the side of his bed until he woke up too! He had this really thick, soft carpet in his bedroom so it was super-comfy!

“Good morning, Master,” I said when he opened his eyes.

He did this funny sort of double take thing when he saw me - I guess he was a bit surprised. But then he said, “Good morning, Babygirl!” and he gave me this delicious smile which sent a wave of basically solid warmth type stuff shooting right through my tummy. Then he held back the duvet, sort of inviting me to join him in his bed, and, when I hopped in, we snuggled and it was basically the most wonderful morning ever.

And I felt like the most loved and… like… cherished babygirl in the world!

And later, when he carried me down the corridor to my bathroom, I found my jeans and the lovely pink t-shirt were sort of waiting for me on the bed there! Mr M was basically telling me that I could go back to wearing proper clothes!

But I guess I wasn’t all that surprised, when I sat down at my Babygirl desk after breakfast, and found one of his yellow sticky notes… like… waiting for me there… with the word ‘Diatribe’ written on it! He expected me to put it in my vocabulary book… and I just knew that he was going to be checking up on me.

I guess that’s the kind of man he is!

I was awake before him the next morning too. So again I scurried over to wait for him at the side of his bed and again he invited me in for a snuggle. That sort of set the pattern, and, from that day, I was always waiting at the side of his bed when he woke up in the morning.

And then, after a couple of days, I sort of managed to work out that he might like a cup of early-morning coffee… and the smile he gave me when he… well… like… woke up and smelt the coffee, brought this huge smile to my face and this funny sort of surge thing to my tummy.

As we were sitting down together for dinner a couple of evenings later, he gave me a little smile. “I’ve got a new kind of lesson for you, Babygirl. From now on, every evening, for a couple of hours, I’d like you to ‘talk posh like what I do’!”

I had a bit of a laugh at that but then I kind of hesitated a bit because I knew I wasn’t really supposed to ask the sort of question that was kind of bubbling up inside me.

He gave me a bit of a nod to tell me I could ask it… but he still had to hang on for a bit longer because I kind of had to work out how to put my thoughts into ‘posh’ language for him. Of course he looked … like… totally relaxed as I did my thinking stuff. I guess I know he likes his silence things.

“If I might be permitted to raise this point,” I managed at last, “I was given to understand that you had no desire to alter me.”

He laughed at that then leaned forward and gave me this little kiss on the cheek. To be honest, I was feeling pretty chuffed about my first go at the whole ‘talking posh’ thing!

But then he took my hand and did his looking deep into my eyes thing. “I genuinely have no desire whatsoever to alter you,” he explained, “but I would like you to have the ability to control the way you express yourself. There are social situations in which you could be embarrassed by talking like a gutter-snipe!” He gave me a bit of a smile to let me know that he wasn’t completely serious.

And then he gave another smile when he saw me doing my confused puppy thing. “Gutter snipe,” he explained, “child living on the streets of a big city.”

And this time he didn’t even do the yellow sticky note thing with me. He just made me read Oliver Twist instead which was the first half-way sort of fun book he had let me look at since the whole dreadful running away thing. And, when I was done reading it, we… like… watched the musical film together. It was really quite beautiful, although some bits of it were pretty sad, and it must have been during one of the sad bits that I managed to sort of snuggle up onto my master’s lap without even really noticing.

And, even after the film had finished, I kind of stayed snuggled up there because… well because it was… like… just such a lovely place to snuggle

All my other lessons were going pretty much OK but I was still having real trouble with French and German. “You’ll want to be able to speak them when we go travelling together,” Mr M had told me… sort of promised me, I guess… and I was getting totally fed up with the whole thing. I mean… I was fine on the vocabulary and grammar type stuff - by now I was so used to learning anything like that that I just got on and did it - and I guess I was OK with the reading and writing bits too. It was just that, whenever I tried to talk in either of them, I was so busy trying to work out genders and word orders and verb endings and stuff that I just got myself totally tied up in these stupid knots.

But then, one afternoon, after another of our French conversation lesson type things had basically left me in these tears of tongue-tied frustration, he gave me a kiss on the forehead and said, “Have no fear, Babygirl, for I have a cunning plan!”

And, early the next morning, when he had drunk his coffee and we were doing our cuddling thing in his bed, he rolled on his side and looked at me with a funny sort of a grin. “Right, Babygirl,” he said, “French conversation lesson.” I gave a bit of a sigh but I really wanted to be a good and well-behaved babygirl for him… so I did my very best… but within a couple of minutes I was basically back doing my goldfish thing - my mouth was opening and closing but no words were coming out as my brain kind of charged round in its normal sort of stupid circle things.

But my master didn’t seem to notice and, as we carried on talking in French, he started sort of gently running his hand up and down my back. It kind of tickled but it sort of sent these other funny sort of feelings shooting through my body too. “Master, please stop it,” I almost snapped at him. “I just can’t think when you’re doing that!”

And it was only when he started laughing that I managed to work out that I had just… like… snarked at him in French!

So, for the next five minutes, he made me keep talking French whilst his hand carried on doing the gentle back rubbing thing. I mean… it was really funny, the whole stroking hand bit just kind of put me off so I just couldn’t think about all the rules and grammary type stuff… so I just had to sort of let it happen. I mean… I’m pretty sure that the French that was coming out of my mouth was… like… all over the place but at least there were words coming out of me and I guess they were more or less making some sort of sense!

But there was… like… a bit of a price to pay. All the time we had been talking… and all the time his hand had been doing its stroking thing… this sort of burning need type thing had been kind of welling up inside me until, at last, it sort of came exploding out of me. “Master…” I sort of heard myself saying… I mean… it was in French but there wasn’t all that much brain stuff going on… “kiss me!”

He looked across at me and did his wiggly eyebrows thing.

“Oh,” he said after a bit. “Does my babygirl want a kiss on her forehead?” He showed me what he meant.

I giggled

“Or does my babygirl want a kiss on her earlobe?”

I squeaked. It tickled.

“Or does my babygirl want a kiss on her nose?”

“Master!”

“Or does my babygirl want a kiss on her lips?” And he gave me one of those.

Except that it basically wasn’t anything like the sort of a babygirl kiss that he had ever given me before.

It was… like… totally different… like… much, much more… well… sort of… grown up!

And all the surges that had been shooting around inside me with his rubbing hand seemed to sort of focus in on the way his mouth was pretty much devouring mine and I basically totally dissolved into the moment.

That kiss seemed to go on for pretty much forever… but, then again, it didn’t seem to go on for nearly long enough. I was left all sort of gasping and reeling.

“Right!” he said, getting my mind back on stuff with this sort of pat thing on my bottom that was just a bit too hard to be fun. “Up and dressed and ready for the day and then, after breakfast, we need to talk.”

I guess he must have seen that I was a bit worried because he smiled and said, “Fear not, Babygirl! You are certainly not in trouble. If anything, it’s the other way round and it’s me who’s in trouble.”

I didn’t really understand what he was going on about but I could tell that he wasn’t grumpy so there was no point in getting all stressy about it. He sort of rolled across me, landing smoothly on the floor on my side of the bed, and then kind of hauled me out from under the covers with a little kiss on the cheek. But then he had to kind of pop me back down on my feet to straighten the duvet. Somehow, during our early morning… well… French kissing lesson, we’d managed to forget all about our ‘leaving the bed perfect’ game and it had got all rumply!

Then he scooped me up again and carried me off down the corridor to my bathroom, doing his stupid raspberry blowing things into my neck as he did. And, after the whole sort of tension of the kiss bit, I kind of squirmed in his arms at the yucky, tickly sort of fun.

“Babygirl,” he said, at the end of breakfast, when we were sort of sitting back at table with the last of our coffee. “I’ve wanted to kiss you like that since the day you tried to head-butt my car but, up until now, I’ve managed to contain myself because it wouldn’t have been right for you and it wouldn’t have been fair.”

And I could suddenly sort of see what this whole thing was really all about. “You were giving me the chance to be a little girl, weren’t you?” I said without really thinking.

He gave my hand a bit of a squidge to remind me that I wasn’t really supposed to ask that sort of question. But then he smiled and nodded. “Your unfortunate domestic situation meant that you missed out on whole swathes of childhood and I saw the opportunity to correct the situation,” he explained. “It really was what you needed, wasn’t it?”

I thought about this then nodded

“But now I believe you are telling me that you would like me to start introducing some elements of physical intimacy into our relationship,” he said. “Am I correct?”

I sort of wanted to look away but I basically knew he was never going to let me get away with that. We both knew I had those sorts of feelings but I couldn’t really imagine that I’d ever be able to admit it out loud.

“‘Yes’, ‘no,’ and ‘not yet,’ are all perfectly acceptable answers, Babygirl,” he told me, “but you have to let me know what you want.”

I thought about this for a long time, interrupted by my Master sort of plucking a nervous finger out of my mouth. He kissed the back of my hand and then popped it firmly back down on the table.

But his eyes were still doing his whole totally burning into me thing so I sort of knew I was going to have to give in in the end. “I do sort of want something,” I admitted at last, kind of forcing myself to keep meeting his eye, “but I’m not really… like… sure about how much or how fast.”

“You do trust me, don’t you, Babygirl?”

“Of course, Master.” I mean… that one sort of went without saying!

“Then you must know that I’m not going to simply spread you out on the breakfast table, the moment you say ‘yes’, and have my wicked way with you!”

I did the totally embarrassing simpering giggle thing at that but then I sort of managed to reply, “I guess so, Master.”

“Then I have a new rule for you to learn: ’Rule eleven: The girl may say ‘stop’ at any time to any form of sexual activity. She will never be punished or disadvantaged for doing so.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master… but it’s not exactly a babygirl rule; it’s more… like… a rule for you.”

“It’s a rule for both of us. It will help you to feel more secure and, because of our unconventional relationship, I need to know that you are not being pressured into anything with which you are not completely comfortable. I need to be absolutely certain that you feel safe”

I walked around the table and sort of snuggled up onto his lap. “Thank you, Master…” I said after a bit… “but I always feel safe with you.”

He wrapped his arms around me and gave me another one of his ‘not a babygirl’ type kisses.

And, when we were done, he popped me back on my feet but I could sort of tell that he wanted to say something serious to me so I dropped down to my knees to listen… kind of automatically.

“One word of warning, Babygirl,” he said. “If you allow this physical intimacy to distract you from your studies, then I will be obliged to suspend it.”

“Yes, Master,” I replied.

Then he gave me a hand to stand up and sent me on my way with one of his casual sort of swats on my bottom.

Except this time I sort of found myself wondering whether his whole thing about my bottom was quite as casual as I’d basically always assumed!

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