To Train A Wild Rose

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Chapter 31 - A Midsummer Night

The next day, at tea time, Mr M sort of announced that we were going to watch our first Shakespeare play that evening: ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.

But I sort of hesitated as this horrible cold shiver thing basically went off inside me. I knew that I was never going to understand what they were going on about… and I guess I was basically a bit scared that he was finally going to work out just how stupid I really was.

“Come on,” he told me as he sat down on the sofa and started fiddling with his phone.

“Do we have to?” I sort of whined.

“No, of course we don’t have to,” he replied with all his normal sort of understanding type stuff. “But we’re going to.”

“But I don’t want to.” Even I could hear that I sounded like a four year old.

“I never said you had to want to.”

He can be… like… totally sympathetic like that!

“But…” I began but I was sort of running out of excuses.

“Of course you do have a choice,” Mr M explained in his gentlest voice. “You can either watch the play with me tonight or you can spend an hour with your nose stuck to the bathroom wall. You even get to choose your favourite spot… and then we can watch the play together tomorrow evening instead.”

He gave me a little smile that let me know that he had basically already worked out what was going on inside my head and that he wasn’t having any truck with it.

And I managed to work out that it was time for me to stop talking and do as I was told. So I sort of slumped across to him.

But only sort of… I basically knew that, at that moment, Mr M was not going to let me get away with very much at all by way of slumpy type grumpiness! He pulled me onto the sofa and I had to resist the temptation to do the collapsing like a sack of potatoes thing and I just sat there, sort of all hunched up in a total strop, feeling grumpy at him for making me watch this rubbish… that I didn’t want to watch… and that I was never going to understand anyway.

I don’t know how long I managed to last like that but then this funny thing sort of happened… I basically got so totally caught up in the stupid story that I kind of forgot that they were talking ‘old fashioned’… and that I didn’t understand what they were going on about…

And then I guess I must have forgotten that I was all grumpy…

And then Mr M who, I bet, was watching me just as carefully as he was watching the play, put an arm round my shoulders and kind of snuggled me into his side.

Except I hardly noticed because I was so caught up in the stupid thing.

And, by the end of the play, when Puck was kind of telling us that the whole thing might have been a dream after all, I sort of found that I was all snuggled up on Mr M’s lap… and I basically didn’t have a clue about how or when I got there.

And I didn’t know what I could say that wasn’t going to get me teased mercilessly… and I sort of knew I totally deserved to be teased… so I just put my arms around his neck, locked my mouth onto his, and said, ‘Sorry,’ and ‘Thank you!’ like that instead.

And he even let me take charge of the kiss for a bit… but then I guess he kind of took over. His hand crept up inside my t-shirt and started exploring my back at the same time as his tongue was sort of taking over my mouth. And then he was sort of leaning me over backwards so he was cradling me in his arm like a little baby… like his little babygirl, I guess. It made me feel like I was all small and helpless and totally in his power… and for some stupid reason I just kind of loved that feeling.

At last he let me come up for air… but he kept me sort of cradled in his arm, like that, and his other hand was still resting on my side under my t-shirt with his thumb sort of brushing gently over my tummy.

“Thank you, Master,” I said, sort of smiling up at him.

“You’ve really got to learn to trust me, Babygirl,” he told me, “and to trust yourself. You are so much more intelligent and capable than you give yourself credit for.”

He snuggled me like that for a bit longer but then he said, “Bed! I’ve got a surprise lined up for you tomorrow.”

And even though I was pretty much exploding with excitement, I knew there was just no point in nagging him about it. I even knew exactly what he would say if I tried: ‘If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?’

He was annoying… and predictable… and right… like that.

He put a hand under my bottom as he helped me to my feet and of course he gave it a bit of a squidge as he did it. I glanced back over my shoulder at him and gave him a bit of a look but I didn’t need to bother saying anything.

I guess it sort of works the other way round as well. He knew exactly what I was thinking too!

He smiled up at me, sharing the joke, then said, “I’ll be along in five minutes to demand my goodnight kiss!”

I’d never really thought about it like that before but I guess it sort of works that way round too. I am basically giving him a kiss just as much as he’s giving me one!

By the next morning, I’d managed to forget all about the whole surprise bit, of course, and I did my ‘exploding with excitement’ thing all over again when I came into the living room to find that this fancy looking computer had magically appeared on my babygirl desk overnight.

“What is it?” I asked, hurrying over to have a look.

“It’s a Linux Workstation,” he told me. “It’s a tool not a toy so I wouldn’t get overly excited about it if I were you.”

But I wasn’t really listening. “What can it do?” I asked.

“Pretty much anything you tell it to,” he explained, “but it’s not terribly good at setting the table so you’d better do that job for it!” He pushed the porridge bowls in my direction.

Still I sort of hesitated, even though I knew that it wasn’t going to do me any good.

“Come on, Babygirl,” he told me in this sort of tone that let me know that he wasn’t going to put up with much more messing about. “It’ll still be there in twenty minutes but by then the porridge will be cold.”

I guess he was right, really, and I did my best not to be totally impatient as we sat down to breakfast together.

Then afterwards, Mr M started to teach me how to program a computer.

And it didn’t take me all that long to work out where he got his whole fussiness bit from. One little semicolon in the wrong place and the thing would grumble about it… like… basically… for hours. Even Mr M would only go on about that sort of thing for about ten minutes!

But it still had this weird sort of fascination and I knew that, if I’d been on my own, I’d have pretty much forgotten all about minor stuff like meals and bed and things.

But of course Mr M was never going to let me get away with anything like that! He made sure that I stuck pretty much to my normal sort of schedule thing… and he even made sure that I did something different for a couple of hours before bedtime.

And so, a couple of weeks later, he was sort of nagging me to come and join him on the sofa.

Well, I suppose, technically speaking, he wasn’t exactly nagging me… he was just sitting back on the thing… looking… like… totally annoyingly comfortable and smug… and refusing to give me the extra ten minutes I needed to finish off the latest problem thing he’d set for me.

And, just when I was on the point of tracking down that last stupid bug, the computer gave this bing thing and turned itself off… and he’d even programmed the stupid thing to say, ‘Night… night… Babygirl,’ in this totally annoying computer voice as it did it.

Of course I was fuming… I’d been so close to solving that thing… but, by now, I’d sort of learnt to do my fuming quietly to myself… so I just sat at my desk, staring at my blank screen.

“Come here, Babygirl!” he said. Of course he was finding the whole thing funny - which didn’t help with my whole fuming thing one little bit.

I did as I was told, of course, but I wasn’t exactly laughing and singing and having a celebration. I tried to slump down at the other end of the sofa, as far away as possible from the meany, but he wasn’t having any truck with that and he sort of grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap. Of course I wanted to stay grumpy…

But then he leaned me over backwards into his ‘cradling his babygirl’ thing…

And then he grabbed my two wrists in one of his hands…

And then he… like… trapped my legs between his…

And then his other hand was sort of creeping up inside my t-shirt…

“No, Master, please!” I gasped as he attacked my ribs but then I sort of forgot how to talk for a bit and all I could do was kind of gasp and squirm… like… totally trapped as he tickled me. And I quickly forgot that I was feeling grumpy with him… and about pretty much everything else too!

But slowly the tickle was sort of starting to turn into something else… and my eyes were sort of drifting closed…

And then I was sort of gasping for a totally different reason…

But I guess he must have seen what was going on because he stopped his tickling… but he still had me trapped in his stupid ‘cradling his baby babygirl’ thing… and his hand was still sort of hovering inside my t-shirt, dangerously close to my ribs.

I guess that’s one problem with the whole ‘just chuck on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt’ thing I did in the morning… it had sort of got into a bit of a habit since the computer had appeared on the scene - I mean, it sort of lets you get dressed in next to no time… but it hardly gives you any… like… protection when he decides to start doing his stupid tickling thing!

Mind you, they were my hummingbird shorts with the yellow pastel t-shirt. I pretty much always wore them together because I sort of liked the way that the yellow of the t-shirt matched the yellow background of the shorts.

Look at me… wearing colour coordinated clothes. Ro would have thought it was just pathetic but I found it kind of fun!

“Are you still in a bad mood?” he asked, just as if he hadn’t noticed what the whole tickle thing had been doing to my insides.

And only then did I remember that I was supposed to be grumpy with him. “Not really, I suppose,” I answered.

“Good,” he said, leaning down and giving me a babygirl type kiss on the forehead, “because we agreed that we were going to watch ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ tonight.

Oh yeah! I’d been so busy with all the computer stuff I’d managed to forget!

He helped me to sit up but I guess I must have had this bit of a sigh thing going on because he leaned in and gave me a little kiss on that special spot on my neck, making me squirm in his grasp. “Later, Babygirl,” he whispered in my ear, “but first it’s time for your daily dose of ‘kul-cha’!”

The funny way he said it sort of made me giggle.

“By the way,” he went on as he fiddled with his phone, turning off the mountain landscape and tappity tapping towards the play, “I’m well aware that I’m being utterly hypocritical by restricting your time on the computer, insisting that you do other things, keep to a sensible bedtime and so on.”

I gave him a bit of a look at that… but I don’t suppose I was really all that surprised by that little bit of information… I guess I’d already kind of worked out that his whole fussiness and fixed timetable type stuff was just his way of dealing with that sort of thing inside himself… but I was still a bit surprised… I mean… what was he telling me for? He’d never normally give away any of that sort of ‘inside’ stuff.

But then he sort of answered the question that I hadn’t even bothered to ask… I mean… I just hadn’t thought there was any point. “You’re bound to find out when you meet my mother,” he said… like… totally casually.

And my head basically totally exploded. I was all sort of… like… wow! I mean… meeting his mother… I mean… I suppose I could probably have sort of guessed that he had a mother… if I thought about it.

But why would I even bother thinking about that sort of stuff?

And the thought of meeting her kicked off about a million new questions about what was going on between us… and what he thought might be going on, I guess.

And he looked at me and did a little bit of his eyebrow thing to let me know that he had just told me quite a bit more than he’d really planned on doing… given away a little bit about what was going on inside his head, I suppose.

Then he reached down, put a finger under my chin and sort of shut my mouth which must have kind of dropped open in shock. He gave me a bit of a smile then went back to fiddling with his phone to turn the play on.

And when he was done, he sat back and sort of snuggled us both a bit comfier and he kind of rested his hand on my bare thigh, down by my knee, and started stroking me with his thumb… but just in a friendly sort of a way… and then the play started.

And for the next two hours, I kind of forgot all about everything else.

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