The Mechanic

by Trinity Marlow

  She opened her mouth and sucked him in, working him with her lips and tongue until he groaned and pushed her gently away. Her chest felt tight as he tucked himself away and smiled down at her, then held out his hand. She took it, allowing him to help her up and didn't fight when he pulled her into a hard embrace. Snuggled close in his strong arms, listening to his heart beat under her ear, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else. It felt right.

  Like home.

  She waited for the familiar panic to settle in her stomach as Mike released all of her except one hand. He pulled her toward the door, and she prepared for the nervous curiosity that always seemed to turn up whenever she wasn't sure what would happen next. But it didn't this time, even as she followed him into the office and sat in the chair he indicated at the front desk. Instead, there was only a sense of calm acceptance, and she wondered how long it would last.

  "Do you use a computer at home?" His question startled her, breaking the calm silence.

  She nodded, looking at the older model in front of her. "All the time. Though mine is newer."

  He chuckled. "This one is a dinosaur. We'll see about getting you a new one. In the meantime, how would you feel about taking over the bookkeeping? It's tedious work, but it would really help us out. I could teach you the basics..."

  "I can handle it," she said, caressing the keyboard with one hand. "I've done plenty of this sort of work. I'll just need to poke around in the files and get my bearings a bit, if you don't mind...."

  "Have at it." He checked the clock on the wall. "Go ahead and work on this until four-thirty, and then go up and make dinner for Ethan and I. We'll be up at five-thirty to eat. Something simple is fine."

  "Okay," she said happily, turning to the computer. When he didn't move, she looked up at his expectant expression. "Oh--thank you!"

  He quirked an eyebrow, and the nerves she'd been waiting for hit full-force as she tried to figure out where she'd failed. Then it hit her, and she lowered her eyes to the floor, settling her hands in her lap.

  "I'm sorry, Master. Thank you, Master."

  "Much better. Five-thirty for dinner. Don't forget." he said gruffly.

  "Yes Master." She listened as he walked away, the nerves slowly dissipating. Warmth suffused her face as she realized that she wasn't ashamed to call him Master, but rather that she'd forgotten. Turning back to the computer, she glanced at the clock to note the time. Normally she didn't really like to cook, but she found herself looking forward to preparing a meal for these men. Shaking her head at the oddness of it all, she settled in to work.

  Several hours later, she looked at the clock and swore.

  * * *

  Mike checked his watch as he entered the small kitchen. Five-thirty on the nose, and the table was bare save for a plate of sandwiches stacked high in the center. Alyssa stood with her back to the door, stirring something on the stove and mumbling to herself. Turning the heat down, she rushed to a cupboard where the door already stood open and took out three plates, spinning around to face the table when she finally saw them. Barely managing to set the plates down without dropping them, she offered a nervous smile.

  "I'm sorry Master--uh, Masters. I lost track of time, but dinner is ready and I'll have the table set in just a few seconds."

  Refraining from comment for the moment, Mike went in and took his normal chair. Ethan sat across from him, giving him a small nod. In the garage Mike had made it clear that Alyssa was his, and while he'd share with the other man, Ethan was to take a more muted role in the relationship. Ethan had laughed and accused him of being in love again, but Mike didn't care. The label didn't matter. Mike just knew that Alyssa was meant to be his alone to protect and posses.

  "Two plates are plenty," he said finally, aware of Alyssa's growing angst. She set one in front of him, and the other in front of Ethan, hesitating before she moved slowly to put the third back in the cupboard. She ladled soup into two bowls and placed one on each plate, then hurried to put a spoon on the napkin beside each setting. Standing near the table, she clasped her hands in front of her, waiting anxiously.

  Mike picked up his spoon before he spoke, purposefully not looking at her. "You may sit on the floor next to me while I eat." He reached for a sandwich, watching her fidget from the corner of his eye until she finally moved to stand beside him.

  "Yes, Master," she said, her voice thin as she lowered herself awkwardly to the floor. Glad she'd chosen his left side, he took a spoonful of soup with his right hand, absently petting her hair with his left.

  "She'll need to be punished," Ethan said, disapproval lacing his tone. He'd always been a strict Dom, and while Mike appreciated that, he didn't want to use heavy-handed techniques with Alyssa.

  "I'm aware of that," he said, feeling her tense under his touch. "I have a few ideas. I assume you have a suggestion?"

  Ethan nodded, swallowing the last bite of a sandwich. "I'm partial to the cane, myself."

  "I've never been a fan of marred skin," Mike said, at which Alyssa leaned closer to his leg. Stifling a grin, he pulled his hand away and laid it on the table. "No, I think taking away her work privileges for a day will make more of an impact."

  At the faint gasp from under the table, his lips curved up. Ethan winked across the table at him. "I suppose you know what's best." He finished his soup and let the spoon clatter in the bowl. Pushing back from the table, he nodded. "I think I'll head home, get some sleep. Thanks for dinner."

  Mike nodded. "Anytime. See you tomorrow." He watched Ethan leave, and then finished another sandwich, wondering how long Alyssa would be able to keep quiet. She shifted, and he mentally reminded himself to get a cushion for her tomorrow.

  "M--Master?" Her voice shook with the tentative query. He finished the last bite, then looked down at her.

  "What is it, Alyssa? You may speak."

  She looked down, her hair falling across the sides of her face. "I'm sorry about dinner. Please let me work tomorrow."

  Mike laid his napkin on the table. "I can't do that," he said, reaching down to tilt her face up. "If I don't punish you, you won't respect my authority. You need to understand that there are consequences for your actions."

  She looked thoughtful. "But you won't beat me, right?" He released her and rose from his chair, forcing her to crane her neck back in order to watch him. Such a beautiful, slender neck it was.

  "I said I'm not a fan of marred skin," he said, watching her eyes widen at his words. "That doesn't mean I won't use pain to punish you, if that's what it takes. I'd just prefer not to."

  Bowing her head, she got to her knees, assuming the position they'd taught her earlier. "Yes Master," she said.

  He nearly scooped her up into his arms then and there, but managed to restrain himself. "Eat a sandwich and clean up the kitchen," he said, his voice gruffer than he'd intended. "Then come to the bedroom. You have half an hour."

  Chapter 9

  After Mike left, Alyssa glanced at the sandwiches, then wrapped them up and put them in the refrigerator. Food was the last thing on her mind as she washed and dried the dishes and wiped down the table and counters. Her only thought was that maybe if she did a good job, Mike would let her work again tomorrow. The thought of just sitting around again with nothing to keep her company but her own thoughts scared her. If she kept busy, the next two days would go by fast.

  And then what?

  She hung the dishcloth on the rack by the sink and turned, frowning as she leaned against the counter. Today had been...different than she'd expected. It had felt almost normal, all things considered. Comfortable. She chewed on her bottom lip, looking at the door to the bedroom. What was going to happen when she went in?

  "Only one way to find out," she murmured, allowing a sigh to escape her lips as she went over and turned the knob. Her nipples pebbled hard against her shirt, every movement rasping the stiff peaks and moisture gathered between her legs as she pushed the door open. At least her body was excited, even if her mind was slow to catch up,
she thought wryly.

  Mike was on the bed reclined against the headboard, his shirt tossed over a chair and jeans open in the front. A TV on the dresser at the end of the bed was on, and the remote lay on one of his legs. He looked up with a bored expression when she entered, then glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

  "Good girl - right on time. Take your clothes off and come here."

  "Yes Master." She removed her shirt and the short skirt, less self-conscious after everything that had happened, but still uncomfortable. Moving to the side of the bed, she waited until he patted the space beside him to crawl up. He put an arm around her, guiding her head to lay on his chest where she could listen to his heartbeat.

  "How was your day, Alyssa? Be honest. I want to know the truth." That deep voice rumbled through her head, the sincere yet commanding tone vibrating from his chest through her body as his hand lightly squeezed her hip. She wasn't sure how to answer.

  "I--it was...different, I guess," she said, trying not to tense up against him. "Not what I expected, I mean."

  He stroked her hip with warm fingers, the motion soothing her more than she cared to admit. "In a good way or a bad way? And what were you expecting?"

  She shrugged, not really wanting to admit what she'd imagined being dominated would be like. "Just different, I guess. I'm not sure..."

  He pinched her, hard enough to cause her to yelp. "No lies, Alyssa. I need to know how you feel, and what you're afraid of. This won't work if you don't trust me to take care of you."

  Tears clouded her eyes, not from the pain so much as his insistence at her being laid bare, emotionally as well as physically. She could leave in two days though, so surely she could survive that long? And he had said he didn't like marred skin...

  "I expected...more pain, I guess," she admitted, closing her eyes to keep just a little bit of distance. "More humiliation. I guess I thought that being submissive would mean being...well, abused. Or beaten, anyways."

  He stroked her skin again, and she jumped at his touch, unsure of what to expect. "Some submissives enjoy certain types of pain. I take it you've never played around with bondage and pain play with other partners?"

  She shook her head, the whole conversation seeming surreal. "No...I've read about it in books, but I never really believed those women enjoyed it."

  Mike raised the hand on her hip and brought it down on her butt, hard enough to sting. "Do you like being spanked?"

  Heat flamed in Alyssa's face as she instinctively squeezed her thighs together. "Yes, Master," she breathed against his skin. Her pulse sped up as she waited - hoped for the one.

  "Do you think I'm abusing you when I spank you?" He smacked her again, then rubbed the palm of his hand over the stinging skin. She squirmed, her body tingling in anticipation.

  "No, Master."

  "Pain can lead to pleasure," he said, tightening his arm around her again. "Everyone has a different threshold. We've just started exploring yours, but I think you might be surprised if you keep an open mind, and trust me."

  She hesitated for a moment. She was just getting to know this man, so different from the boy she once knew. Yet there was something familiar and comforting about being in his presence. Something she was starting to think might be worth exploring. She reached out and placed a shaking hand on his bare stomach, removing it almost as quickly when she realized how cold it must feel, but he placed his free hand over it, pressing it into his heat.

  "What do you want me to do, Master?" she asked, forcing herself to look up into his heavy-lidded eyes.

  "Sleep," Mike said, turning the TV off with a flick of a finger. He set the remote on the nightstand, and scooted out from under a confused looking Alyssa to stand by the bed. "There was a lot going on today, and I'd imagine you're sore, so go ahead and crawl under the covers. The alarm on your side is set for six am. - I'll expect breakfast at seven."

  She hesitated for a moment, then slowly got off the bed and helped him turn down the covers. After she'd gotten under them and put her head down on the pillow, he shucked his pants as she watched.

  "I know you're thinking," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

  She shook her head as much as she could without lifting it. "No Master," she said, punctuating the soft statement with a yawn. "I'm just tired." She closed her eyes, and Mike turned out the light, sliding under the sheets beside her. He gathered her up and pulled her close, gratified when she relaxed against him immediately. Her breathing slowed, and soon she was sleeping soundly as he lay beside her, enjoying the feel of her heartbeat under his hand.

  The next thing he knew, the sun was shining in the single window, and the other half of the bed was empty. He rubbed his eyes and rolled to his back, his brows drawing together as he tried to remember whether he'd heard the alarm clock or not. Regardless, the bright light told him it was well-past seven, and he got out of bed and dressed quickly, frowning in earnest as he heard the crack of leather hitting skin, followed by a muffled cry.

  Flinging open the door to the kitchen, he saw Alyssa standing with her bare back to him, her arms braced on the edge of the kitchen sink. Her pale skin was criss-crossed with angry red stripes that fueled his growing anger. Evan stood back several steps, a short, thin strap of leather in one hand. At Mike's entrance, Evan turned toward the door.

  "Morning, Mike." At his name, Alyssa turned her head, red eyes regarding him blankly. He fought back the urge to run to her as Evan continued speaking. It wouldn't help now. "I was just teaching your slave here a lesson. She served me a cold breakfast, and then was less than enthusiastic about sucking my dick. You've been too soft on her, Mike. She needs to know her place if you're going to keep her."

  "I thought we had an agreement," Mike growled, clenching a hand around each side of the door frame. "This one is mine, and only mine. You were supposed to back off."

  The other man shrugged, though there was a wary look in his eye as he set the strap on the table. "Come on, Mike. You never minded before. How long have we been sharing women? You can't just change the rules like that. It's not fair."

  "It's not about fair. It's about ownership and respect. I told you this one's mine. You should have respected that. I would have for you."

  Evan snorted. "That's 'cause you're soft, Mikey. You always have been. You don't have the balls to keep a submissive on your own, and you know it." He casually pointed at Alyssa, whose arms were starting to shake. "This one would have run off and left you too. You should be thanking me. She won't run off now, as long as I'm here. She knows who the real Master is."

  "Oh, I'm sure she does," Mike said, two long strides bringing him within striking range. He grabbed the strap off the table and before Evan could see it coming, snapped it around the other man's neck and pulled tight with both hands. "You're fired," Mike said, pulling him toward the door as Evan clawed at the leather cutting off his airway. "If I ever see you around here again, you won't be leaving. Are we clear?"

  Evan nodded, his eyes watering when Mike finally released the strap. Giving him a shove into the hallway, Mike followed him down the stairs and to the front door, which he locked as soon as Evan was out. Taking a quick look around the shop to make sure it was locked up, he took the stairs two at a time up to the apartment, where Alyssa was huddled on the floor in front of the sink.

  Chapter 10

  Alyssa watched him approach, numb to everything aside from the throbbing pain in her back. Fighting the urge to shrink away, it confused her when he stopped a couple feet away and held out his hand.

  "Come with me. I have some ointment for your back. Then you can make me breakfast."

  He didn't sound mad, and Alyssa was grateful but wary. She took his hand and followed without a thought, knowing only that she had to obey. In the bathroom, Mike folded a towel and put it on the floor. She knelt on it with her back to him, closing her eyes as his gentle fingers rubbed a cooling salve on her wounded skin. Then he helped her up and gave her
a clean pair of shorts and a shirt to put on.

  "Go ahead and make breakfast for me," he said as he ushered her back into the kitchen. "I'm going down to the office, but I'll be back in twenty minutes."

  "Yes, Master," she managed to whisper, waiting for him to leave before she cleared the table and began to cook. Gradually the shock wore off, and by the time Mike returned, she had bacon, eggs, and toast warm with coffee on the table, and a few questions to ask.

  He smiled when he sat down, and nodded toward the chair at his right. "Sit down, Alyssa. Did you make some for yourself?"

  She shook her head, sitting lightly in the chair. "I--didn't want to presume, Master."

  He finished the bite he was chewing, then looked over at her. "From now on, always make enough for yourself as well. I have no intentions of starving you, though you may not always eat with me. There's some cereal in the cupboard - why don't you have a bowl?"

  "Yes Master." She fixed herself a cold meal and sat back down, trying to decide how best to ask her questions as she ate. The silence was deafening, and she found herself growing more nervous with every second. Finally she set down her spoon and leaned forward.

  "Permission to speak, Master?" she asked, unable to remember the protocol, and unwilling to risk any more pain.

  Mike nodded. "No need to ask, remember? You're free to speak as you wish."

  She looked back down at the table. "I have some questions. I've read about...what he did this morning in books. That some women like to be...beaten. Is that really true?"

  "Some find it arousing. Did you enjoy it?" he asked quietly.

  She shook her head. "No, not at all. That's one of the reasons I never wanted to be...dominated. I don't like pain."

  Mike shrugged. "Different things turn different people on. The trick is finding what works for you. Causing pain at that level doesn't arouse me at all. If I thought you were the type to need that, I would have helped you find someone who's into the same thing."