Sins of the Master

by Catherine Taylor

  “I will,” she replied sombrely. “Once you’ve punished me. It will be over. All of it will be over and I can just move on.”

  “Mairead, with what happened this morning…”

  “Just shows you that I’m still reckless and impulsive. I don’t think things through enough and I keep doing stupid things. I put myself in a really bad situation this morning, and I need to be reminded how stupid that was.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.” She stared at him. “Please, James.”

  James sighed deeply and nodded. “Alright, baby, I’ll remind you, but then it’s over. Hand me the paddle.”

  Mairead stared at the clear acrylic of the implement before putting it in his hand. She smiled sadly at him. “I’m sorry for my disobedience.”

  “I know,” he nodded. Taking a deep breath, he sat up straight and adopted a sterner tone. “But we can’t allow it go unpunished. Stand up.”

  She got to her feet and James took her arm and turned her to the side. He pulled the back of her wet panties down and ran his hand over her cold bottom. It was still rosy pink from the spankings he had given her earlier.

  “Your bottom is freezing. This is going to hurt, baby, a lot.”

  Mairead nodded sombrely. “No more than I deserve.”

  He slowly drew her panties down to her knees. “You know the position. Get into place and have that bare bottom presented correctly.”

  She lay down over his thigh, widened her legs and thrust her bottom up. Taking a firm hold of her, he hooked his legs around hers, spreading them further apart as his arm pushed down on her lower back. Instinctively, Mairead tried to move and smiled when she couldn’t. James’ strength was enormous and his expertise was second to none in keeping her immobilised throughout a punishment.

  Not that she wanted to escape. The pain of discipline was something she understood. It had guided her throughout her gymnastic life, gauging whether she was training hard enough and pushing her limits. It carried her to sexual heights that nothing else achieved and its anticipatory qualities were beyond thrilling. Having a husband that disciplined her was the satisfying realisation of something she had yearned since puberty.

  The days of hating her fantasies were long over, and Mairead couldn’t care less how others might view her desires. James had encouraged them and brought her more happiness and security than she had never known.

  A stinging slap to the centre of her bottom had Mairead yelping, and she realised James had spoken to her.

  “Sorry, James, what was that?”

  “I asked if my naughty little girl was ready to have her bottom soundly paddled.”

  Mairead smiled, knowing he was concerned and trying to keep upbeat about the agonising pain he was about to dish out.

  “Yes, Sir,” she replied firmly.

  “Good girl.”

  The paddle made its debut with a crack to her cold, wet buttock that left it radiating with a sting that lasted well after the next was delivered. It only took a few more before Mairead was yelling, howling and trying hopelessly to wriggle out of his grip. She had to doubt her sanity for wanting this, but she couldn’t summon any regret.

  There was something far more important that the pain of discipline achieved. It took away the constant fear sitting in the pit of her stomach, the worry that something else was out there, just waiting to hurt her far worse than any paddle.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It had been well over a week and Adele had barely ventured from her bedroom since her barrister had called. Every morning she had expected the police to arrive to arrest her, having found the damning evidence that Barry had threatened her with. But as the days went on, Adele was slowly accepting that Barry Underhill was dead and no recording had been found. The news was still beyond her comprehension, leaving her stunned and confused. She wanted to be happy, but it was as if she was waiting for the punchline.

  It just wasn’t credible that Barry Underhill had fallen victim to an accident, which meant he had to have been murdered. How it had anything to do with her, Adele couldn’t fathom, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

  Underhill may have had enemies in prison. He was an awful, brutal man, and could have easily thrown his weight around with the wrong person. Maybe she needed to accept it for what it was. Underhill was gone and she no longer had to fear a prison sentence for attempted murder. Adele shook her head. Nothing was ever that easy.

  She jumped when someone knocked on her door. “Yes?”

  Her door opened and her mother looked in, smiling. “Adele, we’ve got Lachlan, Elise and little Alistair paying us a visit today. Dad thought we might have a barbeque for dinner, if you feel up to it. It’s a lovely day out.”

  Adele was about to decline, but she stopped herself. It had been weeks since she had seen her brother and his family, and even longer since she had done anything normal, let alone socialise.

  She smiled. “Wonderful idea, Mum. Why don’t we head out to the shops first and buy a few treats, and something to spoil Alistair?”

  “Do you feel up to it, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, Mum, I do.” Adele switched her phone off. “I need some family time and let’s make a real day of it.”

  Vivian beamed. “I agree. Let’s do just that.”

  The doubts were still there, along with the constant, simmering anxiety, but Adele refused to give in to it. Barry Underhill was dead and the world was better off without him. It was time to stop feeling sorry for herself and accept that she’d just had a decent stroke of luck. There certainly wasn’t any reason to believe otherwise.

  * * * * *

  The door was demanding her full attention. Mairead stared at it, unable to move, knowing something terrible was on the other side. She looked back at the people behind her, just standing there, observing her curiously, but showing no more interest than they would have if they’d been watching a movie.

  Their lack of concern made her angry enough to take a few steps forward, determined to get out. That’s when the blade of the axe came through the door, splitting the wood and pulling away, leaving a splintering gap. Mairead stumbled back and turned to Dylan and James, to her father and Kylie and Amiri.

  “You have to stop him. He’ll hurt me. He’ll kill me.”

  They did nothing but stand and silently watch. With the speed and savagery of a dog attack, the axe chewed up the wood destroying the only barrier that was keeping her safe. The hole was soon big enough to see the tattoos covering muscled arms until it was taken up by the shiny bald head coming through and rearing up to show a snarling face and eyes filled with hate.

  Mairead yelled and sat up gasping, whimpering and fighting off the bedclothes as she fought to escape. It was several seconds before she realised she was in her bedroom and not about to be hacked to death. As she made sense of her surroundings, she gradually calmed down and allowed the fog to clear away.

  A biting sting in her buttocks made her wince and roll off to the side to ease the pain. She grinned as she remembered the harsh, dull thwack of the paddle thoroughly punishing her backside, and bawling long after it was over. James had carried her to bed and stayed with her until she had succumbed to emotional exhaustion.

  Easing herself from the bed, she went to the mirror, eager to admire James’ handiwork. Her backside was fiery red, with a darker patches at the base of her cheeks. She winced, as she gently rubbed her punished flesh, pleased that James had been devoted to the task, despite his reluctance.

  Going back to the bedside cabinet, she checked the time on her phone, surprised to see she had slept for two hours. Now that she was wide awake, Mairead was eager for her physical appearance to reflect her much brighter mood.

  “Make-up,” she grinned.

  For the next half hour, she devoted herself to a bright, fresh visage, applying her make-up perfectly and using some drops to clear her eyes. She chose a baby blue, short summer dress with thin straps and a layer of tulle und
er the skirt of it to give it a lift. With her dark hair and eyes, blue always looked good on her.

  She felt somewhat mischievous as she inspected herself in the mirror. “Try to resist me now, James.”

  Hurrying out of the bedroom, she stepped lively into the lounge, only to freeze at the sight of a stranger with tattooed arms. A shiver went through her, until she realised she was staring at Dylan. He was sitting in the armchair, in his usual black t-shirt and jeans, but that’s where the usual ceased. There was a startling lack of hair about his neck and face. The thick, black hair had been cut to within an inch of his scalp, showing the entirety of his forehead, ears and neck. His chin and upper lip were shadowed by stubble.

  “Bloody hell,” Mairead laughed. “That’s some makeover.”

  Dylan grinned. “Say whatever it is you have to say, Mairead.”

  “I like it,” she shrugged. “Very twenty-first century. I wouldn’t have recognised you, but I suppose that’s the idea.”

  “Something like that.”

  Mairead looked towards the kitchen. “Where’s James?”

  “He’s taking a call.”

  There was a long silence and Mairead felt unsure of whether he was waiting for her to speak. She bit her lip, trying to avoid his gaze.

  “I’m really sorry about the other day,” she began. “I know what I did was dumb and that I could have injured Esther.”

  She glanced up enough to see that he was still staring at her, showing no expression.

  “I’m more interested in why you did it,” he finally stated.

  Mairead was about to answer, when James came back into the lounge, looking thoroughly annoyed, until he saw Mairead and smiled.

  “Good sleep?”

  She nodded. “Great sleep. Just what I needed.”

  “You’re looking very refreshed.”

  “I’m feeling refreshed,” she beamed. She glanced at Dylan. “I was hoping to stay that way.”

  “Something’s come up,” James said. “The security company believes the power is out at the club. All the alarms are off and haven’t come back on for the last half hour.”

  “There should be battery back-up,” Dylan commented.

  “That’s what I said, but apparently it hasn’t kicked in. When the power does comes back on, we’re going to have alarms going off all over the place. I’m going to have to go in and reset them.”

  Dylan stood up. “We’ll do this another time.”

  “I can wait here,” Mairead quickly suggested. “I don’t really fancy a long trip into the city, and I’m thinking Dylan isn’t here for a social visit.”

  “No,” James grinned. “He wanted to have a talk with you, but now this has come up…”

  “I’ll be fine,” Mairead shrugged. “I know I stuffed up and Dylan is owed an explanation. I’d rather not send him all the way back without one.”

  James smiled. “As long as you’re okay with that?”

  Mairead looked at Dylan. “You’re not planning on waterboarding me or pulling my fingernails out, are you?”

  “I forgot to bring my pliers.” He smiled thinly. “And I’m satisfied James made my feelings felt sufficiently.”

  Her face heated with embarrassment, but she smirked. “Oh, he did that alright.”

  “I have to go,” James said, drawing Mairead against him. “I’ll be back in a few hours and then I’ll cook you something special for dinner.”

  She grinned. “Will it come with dessert?”

  “Maybe,” he frowned. “Just behave yourself and we’ll see.”

  He kissed her and smiled at Dylan. “You can give me an update later.”

  “I will,” Dylan nodded.

  Mairead walked James to the door and got one last kiss, before shutting the door after him. She returned to the lounge, feeling slightly nervous to be alone with Dylan. He was sitting in the armchair again, looking so different and watching her as she took a seat on the couch.

  “You should know,” she said firmly. “Whatever you dished out to Esther, I’ll take double from James with no complaints. She really did nothing wrong. It was entirely my fault.”

  “Esther has told me her side of it. She says that there were two men, but she didn’t get a look at them. She took your word that they were journalists, but after what James has told me, I’m having my doubts about that.”

  “They weren’t journalists,” Mairead took a deep breath. “They were big, mean looking thugs, the Barry Underhill kind. When I was stopped at that intersection, one of them got out and came towards the car. Esther doesn’t know that and I didn’t want to scare her any more than I did. I just wanted to get out of there. Esther could have rung you, but it wouldn’t have helped and I had to make a decision. I think I made a good one.”

  Dylan stared at her. “James told me none of this.”

  “Because I didn’t tell him everything. I was going to, but… but I needed to talk to you first.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m beginning to believe it has more to do with you, than it does with me.”

  Dylan stared at her. “Would you care to explain that?”

  “Brendan North, the man I chased this morning, he tried to tell me he was a reporter, but he was really bad at lying, and then he got pissed off when I insisted on seeing ID. He…” Mairead broke off and breathed out slowly. “He attacked me, and I think he might have really hurt me, except one of the neighbours came out and he took off.”

  “Were you hurt?”

  “No, I’m alright, I swear. The worst of it was the way he looked at me. He had that hatred in his eyes, like Barry did, when you just know they want to hurt you badly and make you really suffer, and you can’t understand how someone can hate you so much. I hadn’t even met him before. Why would a stranger hate me so much?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And neither did I,” Mairead continued. “But I thought about it. I wondered what I could have possibly done to make him look at me that way, and then I read about what happened to him, back in 1999. He saw something and nobody believed him. It was one hell of a story, about a woman named Mary Whittaker who met up with her Master in a city car park.”

  Dylan said nothing and Mairead grinned. “Do I really need to say it?”

  “Say what?” he asked casually.

  “Okay. I think it was you.”

  “Do you? And if it was…” He eyed her coldly. “What were you planning on doing about it?”

  Mairead huffed. “I’d ring up Brendan and sell you out, of course.”

  Dylan sat up and for a moment his cool demeanour looked tested, until Mairead laughed. “Oh, lighten up. What do you think?”

  “I think you’ve got a fucking warped sense of humour.” Despite his annoyance, he looked amused.

  Mairead looked directly at him. “So am I right?”

  “Right about what? I’m not the only idiot who goes by the title of Master.”

  “No, but you’re the only idiot I know,” she giggled. “I mean Master that I know.”

  Dylan smiled under his penetrating gaze. “Keep it up, Mairead. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

  “I’m sorry, but you just keep pitching them and I’m all over the place today. I think James must have beat a few brain cells out of me.”

  “Well he was hitting the right place,” Dylan remarked.

  Mairead grinned. “Yeah, but I don’t talk out my arse, like some. Come on, Dylan, I’m trying to be upfront about all of this.”

  Dylan was studying her. “I take it, you’ve done a fair bit of prying into this business. You’re not one for letting sleeping dogs lie, are you?”

  “No, I’m not, especially when the same guy shows up at our house. He lies about what he’s doing and then I find out he saw you in a compromising position, fourteen years ago with a woman who has since been murdered. Sorry, Dylan, but that’s just a bit too much to ignore.”

  “I didn’t say it was me,” he said firmly. “You’re assuming t
hat.”

  “Maybe,” Mairead nodded. “But there is a photo, and I can always get a look at it.”

  Dylan sat back, glaring at her. “You’re really pushing this one. Do you want to tell me where the fuck you’re going with this?”

  “Nowhere. I just want to know how much this is going to affect my life and if it isn’t, then I want it to go away and never be brought up again, and that would be fine by me.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know if it was you in that car park.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that woman, Mary… she was murdered…”

  “Are you asking if I did it?”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know who did?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “And Brendan North. You ruined his life,” Mairead frowned. “His story was true and you let them sue him.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Dylan nodded sullenly. “But it had to be that way. I had no choice.”

  “Because of Mary?”

  “Her and a lot of people that would have been affected on a much larger scale. I couldn’t allow that to happen. It was the first of several mistakes I made at that time.”

  “And so Mary was one of your slaves?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. So, all this, with Brendan showing up again, what else has been going on?”

  “A man came to my gallery recently and I got him on camera, but I didn’t recognise him, until James sent me the camera footage and told me his name.”

  “Then he does know I’m connected to you and he must know about Esther, which is why he sent those men after her.”

  “We don’t know that,” he told her. “And if you had allowed Esther to ring me at the time, I might have been able to find out who they were. You need to pull your head in, girl, and if there’s more incidents, you don’t pretend they’re not happening. You tell James or you tell me, and you don’t hold a fucking thing back. Is that understood?”

  “Yes.” Mairead frowned and nodded, feeling embarrassed to have been scolded by him. “So what do I tell James about this?”