Sins of the Master

by Catherine Taylor

  “They already do that,” Mary insisted. “I know they do. I’ve heard it all. I’ve been in the meetings. They have their own programs. You have no idea of what these governments want to do.”

  “Because I don’t want to know. Mary, listen to me. That is never going to stop. Every year they will develop new technology, far beyond anything I can do.”

  She shook her head. “Zirconia still has far more potential, and it’s better than anything they have, and I should know. I installed it.”

  “Stop now, Mary, or it ends for you and me.”

  She pouted at the threat. “That’s just it. With what I can do now, I could always find you.”

  The next lash came lower, biting viciously into the back of her thighs. Mary screamed and bawled, but as her cries died down, she realised that he was no longer behind her. He was walking back to the vehicle.

  Her heart beat frantically, and she tore off after him, stumbling down the steps and trying to catch up to him. Every step had her yelping as the grass whipped her body and her feet found every rock.

  “Master, please,” she screamed after him. “Please, come back. I’m so sorry.”

  She fell to her knees and bawled loudly, with the sun beating down upon her hunched shoulders. She could feel the burn until a shadow came over her.

  “Make no mistake, Mary. You would never find me. If power is what you want then you’ve got everything you need at your fingertips. Have fun with that, but don’t do it near me.”

  Mary sobbed quietly. “I don’t want power. I just want you to love me, to be proud of me. I’ve done everything you asked of me, and I could go to jail for life, if they knew what I’ve done. I’ve given you everything I have to give.”

  “No, you haven’t. You haven’t given me your total obedience, because that mind of yours won’t allow you to believe that I know better than you do. If you’ve studied the program, then you know how I could have used it, but I haven’t, because I’m not interested in anything more than having an anonymous life and keeping track of one girl.”

  “Lena.” Mary pursed her lips tightly. “She’s married now and probably doesn’t give you a second thought.”

  “I hope not,” Dylan replied. “I want her to be happy, the same way I want you to be happy and that only happens when you start obeying me. Otherwise, it’s over. You can bring the whole thing down on top of me and everyone else involved, but I’ll destroy the program before you do, with one stroke of a keyboard, and all you’ll be left with is my contempt and a life sentence in jail.”

  “No, Master, no. That’s not what I want.” She shook her head, clutching onto his boots with her head bowed low. “I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t turn me away, don’t hate me. Forgive me, please, forgive me.”

  “I’ve never lied to you, Mary. I told you what I wanted from you and in return you would belong to me, cherished, protected and cared for. How have I failed you, Mary?”

  “You haven’t. I just sometimes dream of something else between us.”

  “It can’t happen and you need to accept that. What we have is stronger than some monogamous bond that can only get weary with time.” Crouching down, Dylan ran his hand over her spine, prominent in her thin arching body. “You came to me for happiness, Mary. When did that change?”

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “I just see the evil and inequality in this world, and I want to do something about it.”

  “But not with my program. Soon, I will be removing Zirconia, and you’ll only have their programs to work with. Prism has many flaws, but it’s still effective.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “You know?”

  He grinned. “I’ve already tapped into it, just for a look.”

  “Please, Master, I did want this house for you and me, and I know that was wrong, but you said I could be alone with you anywhere for a whole week. This is where I wanted to be. The two of us, camping out together, night strolls on the beach…”

  “I gave you that week to reward you. Now, I should be making you drive us back today for your disobedience, but I’m not going to. I’m going to let you have your week, but I want your promise that there will be no more using Zirconia without my permission.”

  “I promise, Master, I promise. Will you punish me, please, Master? Please make me suffer for my disobedience.”

  He smiled. “I will, but at the moment I’m suffering with this heat. Get your arse back up on that porch.”

  Mary got up and ran up to the house, quickly moving into position and yearning for the resumption of her thrashing. There was no fear of spiders, or anything that could possibly distract her. Just to hear him come up behind her had her shivering with excitement.

  Her punishment resumed with a vengeance, the belt striping her buttocks and thighs until they were swollen, bruised and blistered, leaving her a bawling wreck, long after the last lash had been administered.

  She was still sobbing when she felt his hands glide over her cheeks and softly cup her vagina. His middle finger delicately rolled her clitoris, before sliding back between her labia and pushing into her. Another thick finger entered her and slowly pumped inside of her. When they withdrew, she was left wanting, until his hard, unyielding cock had replaced them. His arms came round her and her dangling breasts were captured and gently squeezed in his calloused hands, while his teeth nipped at her shoulders.

  “Oh, Master.” Mary closed her eyes to savour the feeling of him inside her and the agony of her body.

  Her happiness was peaking, knowing their time alone together had barely begun. There were no other slaves to compete for his attention, or appease his ravenous appetite for sex. It was exciting and thrilling to ponder how her body would be punished and pleasured in a week. It would be a truly magnificent holiday, one that would replenish her to return to the world and her vast responsibilities.

  She had a nation to protect against crime and corruption, and the threat of terrorist activities. There was no one who could do the job better than she could, even without guidance from him.

  One day, he would need to accept her wisdom. Her intelligence was far superior and not hindered by ignorance. It seemed that she would have to go it alone in her quest to rid corruption from this country.

  Mary gasped as her body was pounded with a ferocity of lust. Her small hips were held in a vice-like grip as he drove into her. For now, she was simply the humble means of his pleasure, a willing receptacle of his need. Sometimes, she wished that this was her only purpose, and that her real power was in her submission to him. Why was is so hard to let go of control?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Queensland. Australia, October 2013

  Brendan sat on the front porch and drank back another beer, while constantly brushing flies from his face. It was at this time of year that the humidity of Queensland became unbearable and had him wishing he was back in New Zealand.

  Flies had never been much of a problem there, but the beer wasn’t as strong either. It was hard to pinpoint what he missed most after all these years. Certainly not his ex-wife.

  The front screen door squeaked open and he glanced at the woman who stumbled out of the house. Her eye was black and swollen and she was still drunk and angry.

  “You fucking prick,” she snarled at him. “Why the fuck did you hit me? What the fuck is wrong with you.”

  “Yeah, fuck off, Jenny,” he replied casually. “Go back to your old man, because he’s a whole lot sweeter than me.”

  She swayed, trying to maintain her glare. “I’m just saying, that’s all. Why do you have to get rough all the time?”

  “Because you’re ugly and it sickens me to look at you.”

  “Brendan, don’t say that to me,” she whined. “Do you want me to go get you some more beers? I got paid yesterday.”

  “Yeah, you do that. Do something about that eye first, or wear some fucking sunglasses. You look like shit.”

  “Yeah, alright. I’ll come back soon and we�
��ll have a drink together. Get in a better mood.”

  “Yeah sure.” He scowled, hearing the phone ringing inside.

  It was an excuse to get away from her. Leaping up, he pushed past to go inside to the kitchen, hoping it wasn’t work calling. He had his salesman’s voice ready just in case.

  “Hello, Brendan North speaking.”

  “Hello, Mr. North.” The caller was female with a velvety voice. “My name is Adele Easton and I’m a lawyer from New Zealand.”

  His anger flared. “Yeah, well I’m not interested.”

  “Mr. North, please don’t hang up. It’s taken me a long time to find you and I have news that may be beneficial to you.”

  “Oh, really?” He smirked sullenly. “Go on. I’m listening.”

  “I know what happened to you fourteen years ago, how they sued you for your story. What if I told you I had proof that your story was true?”

  Brendan felt his blood run cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You saw Mary Whittaker with a man that night. I’ve found him. The same man has caused me a great deal of harm and I need your help to prove my innocence.”

  Brendan gripped the phone tightly, torn between wanting to hear her out and slamming the receiver down.

  “Just suppose I do know what you’re talking about, what’s he done to you?”

  “He’s framed me for a crime I didn’t commit. He’s some sort of hacker and seems to be able to do things with computers…”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right, which is why I highly doubt that you have any idea of who this man is, because, believe me, I’ve looked for him, more than anyone, and if I haven’t found him, then neither have you.”

  “I’m willing to pay you to prove me wrong. You took a photo but it’s not available to be seen. I’m hoping you still have the original.”

  “And what if I do?”

  “Then I will bring you back to New Zealand to see it for myself, if you will allow me. I want to work with you, Mr. North, to find this man and I have some good leads, including a name.”

  Brendan breathed out. “You know what his name is?”

  “I do, Mr. North. It seems a fair exchange. A photo for a name. Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to part with it, which is why I’m willing to bring you here at my expense.”

  “And what if the photo is no good? It was taken at night with no flash, just the light above them. That’s what went against me. They couldn’t be made out clearly enough.”

  “Technology has come a long way since then, Mr. North. If you still have the negatives, we might be able to have it enhanced.”

  “And that all costs money which I don’t have.”

  “But I do, and I’m willing to send you a down payment of a thousand dollars, as proof of my sincerity. The money could be in your account by tomorrow.”

  Brendan grinned. “I’ll tell you what, give me your number and I’ll ring you back in about an hour. I need time to think about this.”

  “Take all the time you need. Just please understand, I need you.”

  Once he had hung up, he hurried to his laptop. Opening the browser he typed in ‘Adele Easton’ and went straight to images. His eyes widened at the beautiful face that stared back at him. Her skin was dark and her hair long, black and shining. An islander heritage, he decided. She was slim and dressed immaculately in every picture.

  “Classy broad,” he muttered as he brought up her history.

  There was plenty of it, including many recent stories of her involvement with a high profile ex-gymnast named Mairead Kavanagh. A further search revealed that the younger girl was even more attractive than the lawyer.

  There were several images of Mairead as a teenager dressed in a gym outfit, but the more recent images took his breath away. Brendan grinned to see her in several poses on a pole and in a far more revealing outfit. Her breasts were a bit small for his liking, but her slim waist curved out into strong hips and full rounded buttocks. She was beautiful and certainly worth accepting the offer just to get a closer look.

  Brendan sat back and scowled at himself for even considering it. His current situation was less than desirable, but it was safer than dredging up the past. Frowning, he leant forward again and typed ‘GCSB, Mary Whittaker’ into his browser.

  As expected, his own name was brought up several times, but the majority of stories were centred in Paris. ‘New Zealand’s director of Intelligence found dead in Paris River.’ ‘Mary Whittaker murdered, stabbed to death.’ ‘Unscheduled trip to Paris ends in murder.’

  Brendan refined his search to the last year. There were no new developments, so he had to wonder what this lawyer had discovered.

  He couldn’t deny the temptation of finally knowing the truth of that night. Fourteen years later, the memory still haunted him. He should never have followed her, and to get involved now was just asking for trouble. The risks were enormous, even if they did stir the journalist spirit within him. It was the type of story he had always dreamed of, with a cast of beautiful women and a theme of intrigue and danger.

  He was still struggling to decide when Jenny returned, a cigarette hanging from her mouth and her arms struggling to hold a carton of beer. He didn’t wait the hour out before calling the lawyer back.

  “You have a deal, Miss Easton, but first I want the name.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Wellington, November, 2013

  The morning had begun the same as every other of the last few months, with a heavy conscience and fear of the future. Adele had hoped it would be different, knowing that Brendan North was arriving that day. It was something to look forward to, but it came with the possibility of failure.

  What if Dylan Tyler wasn’t the same man Brendan had seen in the car park? She only had Melanie’s story that Tyler was tattooed. She could be wasting time and money following a completely useless theory. Even if he was the man Brendan had seen, it didn’t mean he was responsible for hacking her account.

  Another thought had crossed her mind that Brendan wouldn’t be on the plane. Giving him Tyler’s name and a thousand dollars may not have been the wisest incentive to get him there. It could simply mean the loss of a thousand dollars.

  When it got too much, she made herself follow the routine of every other morning. She showered, dressed and spent time on her appearance, disguising the despair and forcing a smile upon her face.

  When she was calm enough, she went out to see if her father was ready to go to the airport. Lance Easton was in the lounge room, sitting in his armchair and staring at a silent, blank television screen.

  “Are you alright, Dad?” she asked, sitting on the couch next to his chair.

  He smiled instantly and nodded. “I am. I was just thinking about this poor fellow we’re picking up. If what you’ve said is true, we did a terrible disservice to him and those other poor people with the paper, over a woman we thought we all knew.”

  “Who was she, Dad? I know at the time she was Assistant to the Clerk of the House, but how did someone like her get involved in all this?”

  “Mary was an odd woman,” Lance said. “Incredibly intelligent. Knew the wording of practically any law passed in Parliament and could recite if off like poetry. If you needed to know the legislation on anything, you went to Mary and she would put a pile of books in front of you, all bookmarked with everything you needed. We all took advantage of her and the Beehive never ran so smoothly. When she made an application for director of Security Intelligence, we all supported her appointment. Her knowledge of computers was astounding, and with her brains, it really was no contest.”

  “How did she react when Brendan’s story first appeared?”

  “She had a breakdown, took leave immediately and disappeared for three months. We were furious and we threw our weight behind suing that paper. We dug up every bit of dirt we could and brought in an expert photographer who declared the photo to be fake. Everything went against Brendan and we made his life hell. We bankrupted h
im and the paper he worked for. His wife left him and eventually he left New Zealand.”

  “No wonder Brendan comes off as a little angry.”

  Lance nodded. “He may have a right to be angry.”

  “I’m sure of it, Dad,” Adele insisted. “It was Dylan Tyler that Brendan saw with Mary, the same man who is now with Esther Manning and maybe other women, and certainly in collusion with Mairead.”

  “But he’s a photographer.” Lance looked troubled again. “Maybe it was some sort of weird photo shoot. Isn’t that what Tyler is famous for, his strange pictures?”

  “That did cross my mind, but what you’ve told me about Mary doesn’t support that, unless of course, she was being blackmailed into doing something that awful, and that’s just further evidence of Tyler’s criminal nature.”

  Lance nodded. “Alright, I understand that, but what makes you so sure that Tyler is behind these false accounts? He may well be some weird pervert, but that doesn’t make him capable of creating false bank accounts. That would require some incredible work of a computing genius.”

  “Someone like Mary? You have to wonder where she learned her skills.”

  He frowned and stared out thoughtfully before nodding. “Well, that’s scary. Mary was personally responsible for upgrading our computer network after 9/11.”

  “So she would have worked closely with the American spy bases, and had direct access to a system that can, reportedly, spy upon the entire world.”

  Lance snorted cynically. “I don’t know about all that. So they say, but if they can…”

  “We don’t know what they can do, Dad, but Mary did, and I think she used that knowledge to her advantage and to that of her so-called Master. I think setting up false accounts is the very least he can do. He certainly has a gift for not getting caught by the media. Do a search for Dylan Tyler on the Internet and see how little you come up with.”