Sins of the Master

by Catherine Taylor

“What’s wrong?” her mother asked.

  “That blonde girl, it’s Esther Manning,” Adele replied as three women walked past. “I can’t let her see me. Just tell me when she’s gone.”

  After a moment, Vivian patted her leg. “She’s crossing the road to the club now and she’s not looking back this way. She’s too busy talking with the other girls.”

  Adele sat up and looked at them. “I should have known that she would be on the guest list.”

  “And the others?” Vivian queried.

  “I don’t know them.” She lifted the camera.

  As she watched one of them did turn back and Adele shrunk down again, watching over the dashboard. The short, chubby woman looked to be in her thirties and was eagerly waving to someone. Adele quickly snapped a photograph before seeking this person she was waving to. In the rear view mirror, she saw a black van parked several metres further back.

  Leaning against it was a tall, broad man in a long coat and dark glasses. His black hair was thick, untidy and long about his face and neck. He was firmly shaking his head at the woman.

  When Adele turned back, Esther appeared to be telling her off, and together with the other girl, she hooked her arm and hurried her towards the club.

  Adele shifted around, aiming her camera between the seats and carefully adjusted the zoom. She got several shots before he climbed into the van and sat behind the steering wheel, still watching the women.

  Adele lowered the camera and stared at him. “Why are you here?”

  She looked back to the girls who were hurrying past the crowd and got another view of them through the lens, before they disappeared into the club. She still didn’t understand the connection, but it had got her heart thumping.

  The van pulled away from the curb and back onto the main road, merging into the traffic. As it passed, Adele trusted the obscurity of the tinted windows to watch, unable to tear her eyes from him until the van had passed.

  “Are you alright, Adele?”

  Adele looked blankly at her mother, seeing only the memory of a man and his unusual photography.

  “He must have known Mairead. He spoke to her that day.”

  “Who knew Mairead?”

  “He gave her a canvas worth thousands of dollars, for her birthday. I never understood why he did that.”

  “What canvas? Who are you talking about, Adele?”

  “The photographic exhibition, Mum.” Adele laughed softly. “We both met him that day when he came out to speak to Mairead. He’s one of the most reclusive men in the world. Nobody knows anything about him, and yet here he is with Esther Manning. Why on earth is he with Esther? Why was he here at all?”

  Vivian leaned forward and peered at her. “You mean that photographer, the one who takes those strange pictures? Perhaps he’s going to take some wedding photos.”

  Adele smiled at the simple explanation. “I don’t think so, Mum. He was here to drop Esther and her friends off. I don’t think he’s going to the wedding. Too many people would see him.”

  “I remember he was an odd fellow, quite large and intimidating. What was his name?”

  .”Dylan Tyler, wealthy recluse, famous photographer and quite possibly the man behind all my problems.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Wairarapa, New Zealand, September 2013

  Tammy giggled and rolled over to look at the angry face staring back at her. “Don’t be angry with me, Daddy. You look mean when you’re angry.”

  Dylan glared back at her. “Go to sleep. You’re drunk. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

  She pouted. “I don’t want to get punished.”

  “You should have thought about that before you decided to drink several bottles of wine.”

  “It was only two,” she protested and then giggled. “Drinks that is, not bottles.”

  “From the amount you have thrown up, I would suggest that you’ve had more than two drinks and I would like to know how you managed that, considering Esther and Yvette were supposed to be watching you.”

  Tammy tried to sit up. “Don’t be angry with them. I sneaked them, because I was having such a good time. We all had fun. You should have been with us and had fun too. You never have fun, except when you do naughty things with us. Can we do naughty things tonight, Daddy?”

  He had to keep the grin from his face. “No. You’ve been naughty enough. Now you can go to sleep.”

  She lay back and gazed at him. “Do you love me, Daddy?”

  “Yes.”

  A sad smile spread on her chubby face. “But not like the girl in the picture. I just remind you of her.”

  He shifted and frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “The girl in the picture that you always look at when you get sad, the one that you keep in the safe. I think her name must be Lena, because sometimes you call me Lena by accident.” She yawned, rolled onto her side and began to close her eyes.

  “Tammy,” he shook her gently. “When did you see that picture?”

  She smiled back at him through drooping eyes. “I love you, Daddy.”

  Dylan got off the bed and crouched down to be at eye level with her. “Tammy, talk to me. What else do you know about that picture?”

  Tammy yawned again. “Mairead was so beautiful. I was a bride once and I had a pretty wedding dress, but I didn’t want to get married. Mummy said I had to because I was a bad girl. Am I bad, Daddy?”

  “No. Just go to sleep.”

  She reached up to run her fingers over the roughness of stubble on his chin. “You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Daddy?”

  “No.” He began to stroke her hair as a tear rolled down her cheek. “It’s alright, baby girl. Go to sleep, Daddy will sit with you.”

  Her eyes closed and her breathing became steady. Dylan continued to caress her until she was snoring softly. Grabbing some pillows, he wedged them about her body to keep her from moving. For a while, he stood watching her with an anger directed towards himself.

  It had been a mistake allowing them to attend the wedding. He knew how devious Tammy could be, and how alcohol revived memories he would rather her forget.

  Her snoring grew louder and he smiled, sitting back on the bed with her. Part of him was pleased that she had enjoyed herself. It was her first venture into the world without him and no great damage had been done. He was more concerned with her surprising revelations of having seen Lena’s pictures.

  She was right. Tammy did remind him of Lena, in more than her appearance. Her hair was lighter and she was somewhat rounder and shorter, but she had all the same innocence of a girl he couldn’t forget. Eighteen years hadn’t dimmed the memories and Tammy’s presence had probably encouraged them. Both women harboured secrets with uncanny similarities. Maybe that’s what had influenced his decision to keep her. He’d never meant to, but somehow she had just fitted in with his bizarre life and the steady stream of people that came in and out of it.

  Tammy stopped snoring and whimpered in her sleep. Dylan stroked her hair until she became quiet. This was not how he wanted to spend the night, and he smiled as he remembered the two girls waiting outside in the hallway. He pulled the covers over Tammy and laid a gentle kiss on her head, before quietly leaving the bedroom.

  Esther and Yvette were naked and kneeling with their legs apart and their heads bowed. He could see enough of their faces to know they were worried.

  Their anxiety aroused his amusement. “So this is how you care for Tammy?”

  Yvette bowed lower, staring at the marbled floor. “We’ve failed you, Master. We are sorry and offer no excuses. We accept whatever you wish to do to us.”

  He grinned at the French girl’s dramatic offer. It was tempting to draw this out and let them suffer a little more, but their bodies were feeding a fire in him. He had emotional energy to release and he knew of only one way to do that. He just didn’t like his prospects of using them both at such a late hour. Blonde or brunette? It was a hard choice.

  Reaching into his p
ocket, he pulled out a coin. “Heads or tails?”

  The girls dared to look at him and he nearly laughed at their confusion.

  “One of you gets to call it.” He glared at them, trying to keep the menace in his voice. “The winner chooses between caring for Tammy tonight and being dealt with by me. Of course, you will swap over tomorrow when Tammy has a hangover and will be in an extremely foul mood and impossible to deal with, while the other has their time with me. So who wants to call?”

  The girls looked at each other miserably. Esther took a breath and said, “Heads.”

  Dylan flipped the coin, letting it spin in the air and snapping it down on the back of his hand. Lifting his other hand, he checked the coin. “Heads it is. Alright, Esther, how would you like to spend your night?”

  “With you, Master. Tammy will need me tomorrow.”

  “She will,” Dylan nodded. “Because after I’m finished with Yvette, I have work to do and I want no disturbances. Both of you will still have your chores, and you will make sure all meals are served on time. Is that clearly understood?”

  They nodded. “Yes, Master.”

  ‘Goodnight, Yvette.”

  The slim brunette got up, keeping her head bowed. “Goodnight, Master.”

  He watched her hurry off to the bedroom and looked down at Esther, still kneeling. Her long, blonde hair fell and parted over her breasts, revealing nipples hard and prominent. She was trembling and he could hear her breathing.

  “Go to the theatre and make preparations,” he told her. “I’ll be with you soon.”

  “Yes, Master.” Esther got up and hurried down the hallway.

  Dylan smiled, enjoying the sight of her pale, bare bottom jiggling as she ran. His cock was already straining against his jeans, just thinking of what he was about to inflict upon her.

  Esther was perfect for his need. Her fear was always hypnotic and exciting. Like Yvette, she was an extreme masochist, who liked her pain to come with a little blood. The difference between them was that Yvette had clearly defined her hard limits. Esther was not so strict, insisting she would call it if it became too much, but it was always himself that ended the session, knowing how dangerous it was becoming.

  It took time to really understand any of them. Tammy was easy, but Esther’s mind wasn’t so easily delved into. Three years later and she was still clinging to him and showing no signs of wanting to move on with her life. It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t what he wanted. He’d already learned one bitter lesson how badly it could end.

  Esther would have to accept that she had no claim on him, but for now he would give her what she wanted. The adrenaline was already coursing through his veins, priming him for something cruel as he exerted his dominance over her young, submissive body.

  * * * * *

  Everything was black. The walls, the floor and the cuffs that Esther had buckled about her wrists and ankles. Looking about her, she knew how appropriately the room had been given the unofficial title of ‘theatre,’ having all the atmosphere of any dramatic venue. It was the size of a basketball court with a low black stage taking up a third, with strange shiny black metallic bars set into it.

  There were stage lights mounted on the steel framework in the pitched ceiling, along with chains and pulleys. The props were even more sinister with an entire wall displaying implements of discipline and pain. Some were in display cabinets for admiration only, rare pieces from medieval times that resonated with sadistic cruelty. Whips, canes and paddles were mounted for easy access and came in all manner of shape, size and material. There was a cabinet which housed a variety of sex toys, lubricants and restraints.

  The slight aroma of disinfectant gave out a sterility that reminded Esther of hospitals, arousing a fearful anticipation of painful procedures. It was a feeling enhanced by the presence of a stainless steel bench and stirrups, prominently displayed on the stage. It was one prop among other large devices and frames used for restraint, spread out across the stage.

  At the other end of the room were several barred cages, big enough for a large animal. The area between had a more casual setting, with couches and armchairs on a large Persian rug. This was where they watched the dramas unfold or where they rested after a scene, attended by their Master.

  It was Esther’s favourite place, lying in his arms, where he would give her water and smile proudly at her, assessing her mental and physical wellbeing. Sometimes, that care would end with him carrying her to a bed or the spa bath, to receive much more pleasurable attention.

  With all its sinister atmosphere, Esther knew of no happier place. Through the years she had witnessed and participated in all manner of sexual deviancy, feeling no shame or timidity. Dylan was rarely satisfied with one slave, but sometimes wanted to sit back and watch as his slaves pleasured one another. They did whatever he demanded of them and there was no one to judge them. Hours were spent exploring sexual desires with a liberating abandonment of morality.

  In an otherwise lonely and guilt-filled life, Esther had finally found a place where she felt accepted, and the theatre provided all the therapy, peace and excitement she needed. She loved being there, and so it was strange that it now seemed so coldly unappealing.

  Music from the wedding was still echoing in her head. James and Mairead had been so happy, their gazes rarely shifting from one another. The whole night had been filled with laughter and love, resonating with the anticipation of a long and happy future, one that she would never have.

  Lately, there had even been mention of her moving on. Dylan had always reiterated that their time together was never permanent, but after three years, Esther could not see it any other way. The thought of leaving him terrified her, and talking to Yvette about it didn’t ease her concerns.

  “He’s not your lover. He’s your Master and you must understand that he belongs to no one. We belong to him and our hearts will constantly remind us of that, wherever we are in the world, but when he tells us that it is time to go, it is, because he knows that we are ready to move on. He wants us to take what we have learned from him and claim back our lives.”

  Esther didn’t want to think about it. As far as she was concerned, her life was with him. Looking down at the collar in her hands, she smiled proudly. Just as Mairead’s wedding ring had symbolised something eternal for her, the collar spoke of a bond just as deep. Buckling it around her neck, she knelt on the cold, black floor and bowed her head. Until she was told otherwise, she would remain in that position for any length of time.

  Her thoughts returned to Mairead and James, knowing they would be alone by now and nothing would exist to them but each other. Esther could think of nothing more beautiful than them waking after a night of passion, still in each other’s arms and needing each other again, unlike her own day which would begin alone in her bed, before having to deal with Tammy.

  As her thoughts grew darker, Esther conceded that she was tired and not in the right frame of mind to be there, and certainly not participating in an intense session. All she had to do was to relate that to Dylan and he would accept her decision, but the feeling of failure would haunt her all night and she would still be alone.

  She was still agonising over it when the door opened. Her heart picked up pace, listening to him striding into the room. There was a click of a switch and half the room was plunged into darkness, leaving the stage lit up. A moment later the sensuous harmony of orchestral music filled the room and brought a sigh to Esther’s lips.

  The beautiful, gentle music was always a deceptive prelude to the dramatic scenes that followed. Her Master was a man who surrounded himself in sensuality and passion, while revealing nothing of his soul. There was never any real anger or excitement or joy, just a calm, sober and dedicated undertaking of whatever he did. Esther sometimes thought of him as some ancient volcano, lying dormant for centuries, silently accepting nature’s claim on it, while a fire burned within.

  All thoughts of abandoning her time with him were quickly put aside as she l
istened to him prepare the session with his chosen methods of discipline. Behind her, she could hear the implements placed on a stainless steel trolley, which always reminded her of a surgeon setting out his tools. A moment later she heard his approach and watched his boots come into view.

  “Down,” was his simple command.

  Esther brought her face down to the floor, arching her back to make sure her bottom was up and presented. He stepped over her and she felt her buttock gripped and pulled to one side. A smell of menthol reached her nose and she winced, feeling the cold, wet touch of gel applied to her anus. His finger slowly penetrated and worked its way deeply into her.

  For a moment it felt as if icy air had invaded her, but slowly an intense heat began to build. His finger moved inside of her and slowly withdrew. Something large, round and cold pressed against her anus, while the burning continued.

  Esther recognised the stainless steel ball residing at the end of an anal hook, and she knew that she was in for an uncomfortable session. It was a slow process, with her burning rectum being gradually opened and stretched, until the ball was finally settled inside, stoking the heat within.

  “Stand up and at attention, hands behind your head.”

  She carefully got to her feet, aware of the ball moving inside of her and the shank between her cheeks. Her hands went to the back of her head, while her feet moved wide apart. Dylan stayed behind her, linking her wrists together.

  “Head back.”

  She lifted her face towards the ceiling and felt her hair gripped and tied roughly into a ponytail. When his hands came away, Esther could feel how restricted her movements were. There was no lowering her head with the ponytail tied to her cuffed wrists, and the anal hook attached by a rope between them.

  Arching her back brought a little relief, but when Dylan came to stand in front of her, her breasts suddenly felt very vulnerable, thrusted out as if offered to him. At least she was able to see his face, but his impassive smile was unnerving.