“You ever fuck a client?” His deep blue eyes turned intense and he leaned toward me—a sexy charisma poured off him. How was that possible?
“Not in a session or in my dungeon.” My voice had turned breathy. That had to stop. “Whose side are you on and why?”
“Now that’s a complicated subject. I’m on the Brotherhood’s side, but I’m not sure if that’s the same as Jericho’s, but it’s not Ren’s side. Did you know Ren and I were prospects together? I’d rather put a bullet in him than let him drink my piss.” He stood and headed to the kitchen. “Bring you something?”
“No, thank you,” I called out but he was already gone.
He brought back a beer and settled into the couch. “Renegade and Eric, the Old Man, used MJ and that boy, like toilet paper after a shit. The boy stood up and walked away, MJ never did. That’s the why. And why I’m not sure about the kid—has to be fucked up—but he did what I couldn’t, pry Eric’s hands off the club leadership.”
“Hey, Marr.” A sleepy-sounding Misty greeted me.
“Hey, sweetie, you feeling better?”
“Uh-hunh, Dogg’s taking good care of me.” She flashed him a big smile. “He trained me, did you know that?” Adoration shone in her eyes.
“I did, we’ve been chatting while I waited for you to wake up.”
She used crutches to hobble in and sit near Dogg.
Misty and I chatted for a bit about the weather, her injuries and the club. “Do you want to take a walk out back with me?”
I agreed and she stood up with her crutches, maneuvering through the kitchen and out the back door. The back was a huge field, mowed partway before it grew wild.
“The Brotherhood is doing right by me, so I don’t want you to worry.” Misty frowned, making a V between her eyebrows. “I’m so happy being here with Dogg and Janie, it’s like when I first came to Bound. We were a family then, not like it’s been lately.” She pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose. Clearly, she wasn’t a fan of the Old Man.
“I’d like it to be like that again.” I hated the way people had jumped at shadows when the Old Man had run it.
“Yeah, and Jericho, you can trust him to make it happen.” Misty looked over her shoulder to the house. “I listened to the last part of your conversation with Dogg. He’s got a right to be grouchy, him training Jericho and Jericho screwing up, but he’s grown up, and is the president now.” She nodded her head, as if confirming her thoughts.
“What are you talking about?” I was flummoxed. What did Misty mean? Jericho was a Dom, Viper had told her that, but how had he screwed up in a way everyone knew about. Well everyone but her.
“You don’t know?” She frowned then worked her crutches toward the three chairs down the back path. “I thought everyone knew.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” I loved Misty but the girl had a habit of stating the obvious. She needed to get to the point.
“Jericho, he was trained by Dogg, to become a Master, so young, like eighteen. And even then, I was new, just another slave, but Jericho was old, I mean serious, focused—not that he didn’t play hard, but he played like he was thirty not eighteen, and people forgot he was just a kid.” She stared at me. “He’s like you, I’ve always thought you were too old, too.”
“Honey, I’m thirty-two, but ancient.” I smiled at her. “But eighteen is far too young to be a Dom, no matter how old you act.” What kind of Master was Dogg if he’d turned Jericho loose at such a young age? Even I had been twenty-one before I’d earned my Master status, six long years. Jericho had to be so high on the power, and too young to know how to use it.
Misty nodded and used her crutches to balance as she sat in the chair then lifted the cast up on the footstool. “Yeah, he fell too deep into his sub relationships, then shit got weird with the Old Man, that’s all Dogg would ever say—both Jericho and the Old Man were out of line.”
What had he done? There were so many traps to fall into when it came to being a Dom—believing you were God was one of the easiest. Too bad Jericho had been brought low before he should’ve even been a Dom in the first place.
“Whatever happened, it made Jericho dismiss both of his subs—one ran away. But, this sweet local girl, she lost it. Drowned herself in the town reservoir, leaving a note basically pointing to Jericho as the reason she killed herself.”
Every muscle tightened when I flinched. That was harsh and everyone had paid a steep price. Worse, I understood how easy it was to lose sight of the role-play and believe the scene. I’d made the same mistake, but I’d still been supervised, and my Master had taught me the painful lesson of distance by sending away my sub before we’d gone as deep as Jericho had.
“So he locked up his dungeon, and never came back to Bound. As far as I know he hasn’t practiced the lifestyle since.” Misty gave a nervous laugh. “He was one of the best, we all hoped he’d want us, he took his role so seriously, almost devoutly, that he worshipped the subs he commanded.” She sighed. “But I never was one of the lucky ones.”
One of the best, Misty had just laid out a challenge to me without even knowing. How could I not have him in my dungeon to test him personally? And I knew one way to get him there.
“Why did he leave it all? Did the club or Dogg make him?” Walking away was a strong move, and I respected him for it. I’d be hard-pressed to have the guts to leave the lifestyle.
Misty shook her head. “He’s crafty and private, but he takes his word and his responsibilities seriously, I think he punished himself, closed his dungeon and never came back.” She eyed me with a crafty expression on her beautiful face. “So tell me what he asked you to do?”
“What?”
“Jericho told Dogg you said no, but I didn’t hear to what.” She held my gaze.
“To be a spy at Bound, tell him what’s going on.” I didn’t give her details, but she was the only reason I was considering saying yes, not that Jericho knew that.
She trembled. “That’s very dangerous.”
“Not so dangerous, Viper is new and hasn’t gotten the respect to know how people really feel. Jericho needs more ears.”
“I’d help him if I were there.” She bit her lip but her chin was set with determination. “I know he’s a good man and a good leader.”
If she only knew the real assignment she’d run away as fast as she could, but Misty had good judgment. We’d worked together several times and I trusted her completely. It’s one of the reasons Ren’s abuse pissed me off so much. Misty was one of my favorites.
“You believe in Jericho that much?”
“Yeah.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’m on Team Jericho, and I wanted to tell you the history, even if Dogg says I have to stay out of it—it’s an MC matter.”
“Seems like the MC is unsettled now?”
“You have to expect some aftershocks when the son ousts the father.”
“So Jericho brought his father down.” I tapped my lip. “He’s a planner.”
“Patient with his plans, but impatient in the moment. Man, he makes me wish I was what he wanted, or needed. He’d be worth the fight.” Misty winked at me, giving me one of her dimpled smiles.
“Who do you have to fight?” She stiffened, betting it was his other women. “Jericho, most of all.” She sighed. “He’s a loner, for sure.”
Misty and I sat out back and chatted a few minutes more, but my mind was full, making me bad company. I excused myself and headed home, needing time to think it all through.
* * *
I entered the back door of Bound early in the afternoon to start my day. First, I prepared my body, putting myself in Marr’s headspace with the bustier, then the skirt. Already I was feeling the Domme vibes strong inside me. Renegade was one of my strongest clients and I enjoyed dominating him. I slid into my leather boots and my
costume was complete. Lighting sage in my dungeon, I sat in the center of it in lotus position and meditated, needing to clear my head of the outside world and focus on finding my headspace for today—mindfulness to duty, distance for observation and passion for my profession.
Once I felt centered, it was time for my apprentices. Today we practiced the whip. Poison tried again to conquer the whip, one of the last tools she wanted to earn before I promoted her to Master.
“Stop.” My quiet command immediately followed. “Eighteen and blood, how will you ever make thirty.”
“It’s not possible,” she burst out. “Not for me anyway.”
“You can always choose to reach Master without the whip. Few master the whip, in fact I’m one of four in the South.”
“No, Mistress, I will persevere.” She bowed her head. “I’m ready for my punishment.” Moving forward she unhooked Lash and stood in her place, waiting for me to strap her in place.
“It isn’t punishment to give you pain. You will observe me. Lash, you pass the bullwhip, go on and soak in a tub.” I turned to Danger who managed to remain stoic, a hard thing for her. “You will take the thirty.”
“Yes, Mistress.” The words a flutter that matched her eager expression.
With a sullen expression, Poison moved to my side.
“You need stronger wrists not more arm. Do two hundred of this exercise every day this week.” I showed her a wrist flex to strengthen her control.
“Yes, Mistress.”
I circled the bullwhip and it cracked against Danger’s skin. I moved down her body, licking her with its end for the first pass. “Aim and wrist, both were sloppy today.”
“Yes, Mistress.” This sounded more sullen than the last one.
“You are excused. The next test will be the last,” I bit off. “I do not teach nor waste time with girls.” I turned and pinned her with my gaze. “A Master is never childish.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, Mistress.” She turned and walked out, anger in every step. What Poison lacked in finesse with the tools, she more than made up in dominance.
I turned back to Danger, no reason to punish her for her sister’s disobedience. “Are you ready?”
My youngest apprentice nodded with anticipation. I know she hoped to pass the whip today, but she hadn’t made it past twenty-three in silence.
“Count.”
“Twenty.” She bit out on a hiss of pain.
I cracked the tip on her inner thigh, moving lower. She counted, then at twenty-six she let go of the bar when I smacked the tip against her lower calf. That bitch stung, I knew.
“Great job. No crying out, and only four more to go. You are still ahead of schedule.” I praised her for her prowess.
“Thank you, Mistress.” She tried to remain stoic but I saw the rosy pink of pleasure in her cheeks.
“Go on and have Lash give you the cream. Do it this time.” Danger was a masochist by nature and she liked the extra tickles of pain, but it made her recovery slower.
I could have let my apprentices clean up, but when I taught I cleaned, it was one of the duties of the Master. Training students was my passion, I loved passing on my skills to new Dommes and even more teaching them the respect and mental strength required to be a Mistress.
After cleaning up, I sat at the bar in the lounge sipping my Jameson on the rocks waiting for Renegade. We had a dance. He came in and we shared a drink or two, before I headed down to my dungeon then he followed after his third drink. It’d become something of a tradition for us.
I clinked my ice against the glass as I swirled the amber liquor. What was I going to do about Jericho’s request?
“Buy you a drink?” Viper grinned and sat beside me.
“Sure, make it a double.” I smirked. Since drinks were on the house for both of us, I was a cheap pickup.
The bartender poured us both a couple fingers of good old Irish whiskey, although Viper took his neat. “Why don’t you like me?”
I startled and tried not to fall off my bar seat at Viper’s direct question. He asked it straight so I gave it back that way. “You don’t know enough, and you ignore good advice.”
“Your advice, you mean.” He downed his whiskey in a gulp and smacked his glass on the bar. “Can I trust your advice?”
I sucked in a breath—that was direct. Normally Doms danced around subjects with others of our kind so not to get into a pissing match, but Viper laid it on the line. “If you’re asking then you don’t.”
“I’d like to trust you.” His eyes softened and he gave me a puppy dog smile. The man was deadly with his charm.
“But...”
“You might be on the opposite side.” He shrugged and sipped the refill the bartender had poured.
“I’m not. Hurting Misty isn’t acceptable. Any advice I give is straight up what I’d do in your place, no other agendas.” I sipped my whiskey. “I respect Bound too much to play games.”
“Some games you should play,” Viper countered, eyes saying he knew what Jericho had asked me.
“I never play games, if I do something I’m dead serious and fully committed,” I shot back. Spying on Renegade was not a game and I resented the implication it was.
“I know.” He held his drink up to me and we clinked glasses. “I like that about you.”
I foundered, had he been blowing smoke earlier with his games comments? He was hard to read, just one of the reasons I was cautious around him.
“Gigi can’t get the schedule to work out for the girls and they’re whining at me, would you take a look, see if you can fix it up for them?”
I recognized an olive branch and a headache rolled into one. “Yeah, sure, but I’ll assign time in my dungeon to the whiners.” I snorted.
“Even better.” He laughed and stood. “I didn’t exactly expect to end up in this situation, it made me a bit prickly.”
“Glad you got rid of that stick up your arse,” I called to his retreating back.
I’d just finished my whiskey when I heard the front door open. I turned to see Ren, gray hair braided and beard neat, stride toward me. For an old guy, he kept in shape and was damn attractive.
“I see you started without me.” He eyed my empty drink.
“You can take the girl from Ireland—”
“But you can’t take the Irish out of the girl.” He finished with a laugh. “You doing all right these days?”
He always asked a question like that, giving me an opening to bitch about the way Bound was run. I never took him up on it, nor did I today.
“Ren, you old goat, I’ve missed you.” Gigi pranced toward him on her six-inch platforms. “You always go for Marr, you should drink with me.”
“You drink those damn girly drinks, but I’ll save my dances for you.” He winked at Gigi.
“You flirt, I’m holding you to that.” Gigi giggled like a damn schoolgirl but then Ren had that easy sex appeal that set most of the ladies on edge.
He didn’t do it for me, but then I wasn’t into guys that much older than me when I was into guys. I think it’s why he liked to drink with me, I was more like one of the guys than the ladies that would be flocking around him in minutes.
“You know.” He glanced over at me. “You should give men another try.”
I sputtered into my whiskey. Or maybe I was completely wrong about why he drank with me. “Guys and I are bad news. I’m a lady for the ladies, and I do need a new one of those.”
Gigi waggled her brows. “Marr is on the prowl. You know you should shop the porn studio, I hear there are several girls there you might like.”
“Does everyone in the fucking world have something to do with the Brotherhood?” I complained, a common gripe of mine.
“Well we are the shit, so yeah, all the good tail i
s our tail.” Ren puffed up and I could see the pride he felt being a brother. Every biker in the club was like that and it made me wonder why. What created such a bond?
“Well, I guess I’ll be poaching some of your tail then.” I knocked back my drink as I saw two dancers head his way. Even after the rumors that he’d hurt Misty, girls flocked to him. It’d been that way the entire time I’d been at Bound. And he always had a smile and a few words for everyone. Jericho could learn a lesson about being seen from Ren—he understood the art of being available without being a pushover. No one would think those dark eyes of his belonged to some nice guy.
“See you in a few.” I pushed away from the bar and moved downstairs to get ready for my session, more conflicted than ever. Renegade had only shown me respect and friendship, but he was a mean son of a bitch too. Deciding what to do should be easier for me, but I’d never been so torn about a decision.
I met Lash at the door to my boudoir. “Give me thirty minutes before coming to get me. I need to center myself.”
“Of course, Mistress.” She bowed.
I lit another bowl of sage and sat cross-legged on the floor needing to clear my mind. When I was in a session, I only had room for my craft in my head. Otherwise mistakes were made, and people got hurt. I was proud I’d never let my tools slip beyond my limits and I planned to keep that record.
Lash knocked on my door, letting me know it was time. I attached the whip to my hip and double-checked the two knives in my boots—Renegade was too unstable to trust. I followed my back hall to my dungeon—my true home.
Unlike most dungeons, I’d tucked all my tools into hidden drawers and cupboards along the clean black walls. I opened the storage closet to remove a spanking bench. The man would kneel for his punishment today. At the control center I set the music and lights then walked to the back of the room to my leather restraints. I wanted a little restraint but not my full rigging system. I picked out leather wrist and ankle manacles. I wished he’d feel helpless, the way Misty had when he’d abused her, but no matter what pain I heaped on Renegade he’d enjoy it. In fact he often asked me to cross my lines and draw blood. Just thinking about Misty pissed me off and ruined the cool Zen I’d worked hard to achieve. I closed my eyes and cleared my mind again, letting my discipline take over. I imagined the scene in my mind and when I was ready, I headed to the dungeon entrance to greet Ren.
Deny: A Dark, Erotic Motorcycle Club Romance Page 5
