by Ashe Barker
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
More Stormy Night Books by Ashe Barker
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The Master
By
Ashe Barker and Katy Swann
Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Night Publications and Ashe Barker and Katy Swann
Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Night Publications and Ashe Barker and Katy Swann
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Barker, Ashe and Swann, Katy
The Master
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Bigstock/coka and Dreamstime/Neil Lockhart
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Chapter One
“See you all next week,” called Master Dylan after he had dismissed the class.
Jodie Price bowed to her instructor before turning to leave the training hall. She was exhausted, dripping in sweat, sore and battered yet high with the endorphin rush she always got after a taekwondo class.
“Jodie?” called Master Dylan. “Can you stay behind for a minute? I’d like a word.”
“Sure.” Jodie shrugged casually, although her heart suddenly hammered so hard it almost hurt.
“Go and get dressed then we can talk when everyone has left.”
Jodie nodded and headed for the changing room, making sure her strides were strong and confident. She could feel his eyes on her as she left the room and she’d be damned if she would let him see the effect he had on her. But, as soon as she was out of his sight, her legs trembled as her imagination ran riot. What does he want? Have I done something wrong in class? Or maybe he’s going to tell me how much he fancies me? She shook her head to rid herself of the ridiculous thought. Dylan Atkins was her trainer and nothing more. Just because he made her blood tingle every time he looked at her didn’t mean he felt the same way as she did. He was probably going to tell her off for her uniform not being perfect or something equally boring.
Untying her black belt, she caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors in the changing room and scowled at the reflection. She was a mess. Her face was flushed with the exertion of the class, the hair that had come loose from her ponytail clung to her damp cheeks, and she had no makeup on. Why couldn’t she have chosen a more glamorous sport like ice skating? She pulled her hair out of the hairband and shook it free. As her naturally blonde bob landed on her shoulders, her favourite vision appeared in the mirror. It was always the same. She would be standing on a podium and proudly bowing her head as a gold medal was placed around her neck. She would then straighten up and wave to the adoring crowd cheering her name.
“See you next week, Jodie.”
The bubble burst and she found herself back in the changing room. “Yeah, see you,” she mumbled to her friend as she left. Her shoulders sagged as reality caught up with her again. It was beginning to look like she would never get to the Olympics now that the chain of sportswear shops that had promised to sponsor her had gone bust. She sighed and stuck her tongue out at herself. “Keep dreaming, girl,” she said aloud as she slipped her jacket off.
A few minutes later she had changed back into her tracksuit. With her dobok folded and packed down in her holdall, she headed back to the hall to find out what Dylan wanted. As she approached the open door, though, she stopped and caught her breath. Dylan had taken his t-shirt off and had his bare back to her as he rummaged in his bag for something. Corded muscles rippled across his broad shoulders as he moved and little beads of sweat trickled down his strong biceps. Her eyes widened when he pulled out a towel and rubbed his chest before pulling a clean top over his head. It was like watching an erotic film featuring a male model and Jodie could only stare in mesmerised silence.
As if sensing her presence, Dylan looked up and grinned. “Are you ready?”
“Er, yes.”
“Are you in a hurry? I thought we could talk over coffee at Bruno’s if you fancy it? I could murder a double espresso.”
“Sounds good to me.”
As they approached the coffee shop, though, Jodie had to swallow her disappointment when she spotted the closed sign on the door. A cup of coffee might not have been much, but it would have given her a chance to get to know Dylan a bit better without it looking obvious that she fancied him.
“Damn. It’s shut.” Dylan frowned as he looked at his watch. “Look, I really need to talk to you and I don’t want to do it out in the street so why don’t we nip into the pub down the road for a quick drink? I promise I won’t keep you long.”
Jodie glanced at her phone and pretended to consider it for all of two seconds. A drink with Dylan? Hell, yes. And he can keep me for as long as he wants. “Okay, that’s fine,” she replied, keeping her voice even.
The pub was no more than a couple of minutes’ walk away, but in that time she had managed to convince herself that she must look like the most ungraceful and frumpy woman on the planet in her grey tracksuit and trainers. She thought of the new dress she was planning on wearing later that night and grinned. If Dylan were to see her in that…
“Here we are. I’ll get the drinks while you grab a table. What would you like?”
“A glass of red wine, please.”
She found a table in a quiet corner, far enough away from the small crowd at the bar where they could talk without shouting, and when Dylan returned with their drinks, he nodded his approval.
“Good choice,” he said, sitting down next to her. Then he raised his pint of beer and grinned. “I have to say that I wouldn’t normally encourage my best student to drink alcohol after class. I need you in tip-top condition.”
“Do you?” Jodie couldn’t resist a flirtatious flutter of her lashes as she raised her glass to her lips and took a sip.
“Yes, I do. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Are you happy with the way your training is going?”
“Yes, of course. We all appreciate you stepping in at such short notice.”
He shrugged. “I’m glad to help. Do you miss your old coach?”
A lump lodged itself in Jodie’s throat as she thought of the man who had been her teacher for nearly fourteen years. “Yeah,” she replied, her voice faltering. “Master Jim was my trainer since I started taekwondo when I was five. He was tough as hell and ruthless with his training schedules, but I’d come to look up to him as a bit of a father figure. His heart attack came out of the blue.” She gazed at Dylan, her vision blurred. She took a deep breath to compose herself. “He was only forty-two and was the fittest man I’d ever known.”
“I’m so sorry. It must have been a real shock.”
Jodie nodded. “Yeah. We thought that that would be the end of the club until you stepped in.”
“I know I’ve only been training you for a couple of months, but I see huge potential in you, Jodie. You are one of the most promising students I’ve ever had. Your technique is flawless and your sparring is downright scary.”
Jodie
laughed to cover her embarrassment. She wasn’t used to compliments. She knew that Master Jim had thought she was good—after all, it had been him who had suggested she complete the forms to be considered for the Olympic team—but he had never praised her openly. “Thanks. That’s down to Master Jim’s persistence. I went through a phase a couple of years ago of drinking and partying every weekend. It’s thanks to him and his rigid discipline that I got back on track and got my third dan.” She took a sip of her wine then grinned at him over the rim of her glass. “Mind you, you’re as tough as he was, if not more so.”
Dylan returned her smile, causing something to stir deep in her belly. He had the sexiest mouth she had ever seen on a man, full lips that stretched into a generous smile, and had the power to weaken her knees when he aimed it at her. Not ideal when they were sparring and she needed to be on her guard.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.”
Dylan sat back and seemed to study her for a few seconds. “You remind me of myself ten years ago. Completely dedicated to taekwondo and determined to go to the Olympics.”
“What happened?” Something must have gone horribly wrong because this man was so good there was no doubt he would have walked away with a gold medal if he had competed.
He sighed. The pain in his eyes was clear and Jodie only just managed to resist the temptation to take his hand and give it a squeeze.
“I dislocated my shoulder, which caused a tear in my shoulder joint. Although I had physiotherapy, it never fully healed. I was on the Olympic squad and was only one month away from competing. That was the end of my Olympic dreams.”
“I’m sorry,” said Jodie quietly. She couldn’t begin to imagine the devastation of being so close to her dream and then having it snatched away because of an injury.
Dylan took a gulp of his beer, then flashed her a forced smile. “It’s all in the past now, but that’s partly what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
“I heard from one of the other club owners that Jim had plans to get you to Tokyo, but a possible sponsorship deal fell through at the last minute. Is that right?”
Jodie straightened her shoulders and kept her gaze even, determined not to show any emotional weakness. “Yes. The company went bust.”
“Do you still want to try for the Olympic squad?”
Jodie’s lungs emptied as the gold medal flashed before her eyes. “Yes,” she replied as coolly as she could even though she wanted to scream yes! at the top of her voice. But that wasn’t in keeping with the control required for a taekwondo champion so she kept her face neutral and managed to remain outwardly calm.
“Okay. I’ve done some digging and have looked into all the organisations that have sponsored Olympic sport in the past and one of them is Bishop HLS Bank. They apparently don’t have any active sponsorships right now, so I called them. I explained what we were looking for. The person I spoke to wasn’t very encouraging, although he did say he would pass my query on to the relevant person. I didn’t think I’d hear back, but, would you believe it, I got a call back a few hours later from the CEO himself, George Hartwell.”
Jodie raised her eyebrows in surprise. That was quite unusual in her limited experience. “Really?”
“Yes. He said he has a strong interest in taekwondo and has already considered ways he can support the team. He thinks it would be great PR for the bank to sponsor a local competitor and would be happy to discuss it with us.”
“You’re kidding! Oh, my God,” cried Jodie, a rush of excitement fizzing through her veins. Maybe her dream could come true after all.
“We’d have to move fast as the regional championships are just around the corner and we would ideally want the sponsorship in place by then. You would need to be available to train full time.”
“That’s not a problem.” Jodie had deliberately taken a job in a call centre that only required a week’s notice for this very eventuality.
“Good. Mr. Hartwell has asked us to attend a meeting at the bank on Monday morning.”
This time, Jodie was unable to contain the emotion simmering inside her and a tear rolled down her cheek as she took in everything Dylan had just said. “This is everything I’ve ever dreamed about,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”
Dylan smiled and Jodie’s pulse quickened as his eyes creased at the corners. She stared at him, unable to look away as an invisible current seemed to crackle between them. It only lasted a split second before his face became stern again, but the warmth remained.
“If we go ahead with this, I will need your complete dedication. You will have to work harder than you ever have before and train every day. I’ll expect you to go to the gym daily and live like an Olympic athlete. That means no late nights out, no sugar or junk food, and absolutely no alcohol. Is that clear?” he demanded, his voice holding no hint of compromise.
“Crystal clear. You have my word.”
“Good. Then have a nice weekend and I’ll meet you at the bank at eleven o’clock on Monday morning. And remember, no more alcohol,” he said, nodding to her empty wineglass.
When they had said their goodbyes, Jodie dug her phone out and called her best friend. “Sally,” she cried the second they were connected, “you’ll never guess what!”
“Hello to you, too,” replied Sally, chuckling on the other end of the line.
“I might go to the Olympics after all. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Wow, how come?”
“Dylan thinks he might have arranged a sponsorship. I’ll tell you all about it tonight. Oh, my God, I can’t tell you how excited I am.”
“I can imagine. But should you be going out if you’re going to start training for the Olympics?” cautioned Sally, ever the sensible one.
Jodie hesitated. Actually, she had just given her word to Dylan that she wouldn’t have any more late nights out, but…
She had been looking forward to this play party for so long. It was being held at Club Sin, her favourite BDSM venue and she had spent a fortune on a new red latex dress. Moreover, she was hoping to find a dom who might scene with her. It was ages since she’d last had a good spanking. Making her mind up, she replied, “Oh, it’ll be fine. One last blowout won’t hurt. I’ll pick you up in the cab just after ten o’clock.”
“Okay, babe. See you later.”
The party was already in full swing when Jodie and Sally arrived later that evening. Hot, glistening bodies moved sensually to the thumping electro music on the dance floor while groups of friends caught up at the bar. The delicious echo of slaps coming from the play area at the other end was a welcome reminder that this was no ordinary party. The club hosted these events every month. They were exclusive to the members, which meant the atmosphere was friendlier than it was on a regular club night.
“I love your dress,” shouted Sally. “It fits like a glove.”
“It should do. It took bloody ages to get into.” Jodie laughed as she thought back to the unglamorous tracksuit she had been wearing earlier. If only Dylan could see her now. She nodded toward the bar. “Fancy a drink?”
“I’ll have a bottle of beer, please. Are you drinking?”
“Yeah, but I’ll only have the one. I’m a would-be Olympic athlete now, you know,” Jodie said with a wink.
With their bottles of beer in hand, they headed toward the play area to check if there were any interesting scenes worth watching. They stopped near a spanking bench where a woman was being flogged by her dom. They were near enough to hear the woman’s gasps, but not so close they couldn’t talk quietly.
“Cheers,” said Sally, holding up her beer bottle. “Good luck with the meeting on Monday.”
“Thanks.” Jodie clinked her bottle against Sally’s and took a long drink of the deliciously cold beer. She would damn well savour this as it would be her last drop of alcohol until the Olympics were over. But, as she raised the bottle to her lips again, someone bumped into her from behind, kno
cking the bottle from her mouth and spilling half the contents over her chest and dress.
“I’m so sorry,” said a male voice. “Are you okay?”
Not wanting to make a fuss, Jodie turned around to reassure the guy that she was absolutely fine and there was no harm done, but froze as she came face to face with Dylan. Stunned, she stared at him as she tried to work out what the hell he was doing there. Was he a dom? He certainly looked like it with his leather trousers, black t-shirt, and Doc Marten boots.
“Hello,” she said, when she was eventually able to speak again. “I never expected to see you here.”
“Clearly not.”
Jodie grinned up at Dylan expecting him to smile back, but instead he was frowning. In fact, he looked seriously pissed off. And then the penny dropped. In her excitement at seeing her sexy taekwondo coach, she had completely forgotten that only a few hours earlier she had promised him there would be no nights out and no alcohol. She glanced down at the half-empty bottle of beer in her hand then back up at Dylan’s furious glare. Oh, shit!
* * *
Holy fuck!
Dylan took in the sight before him, barely able to believe the evidence of his own eyes. He would be hard pressed to say what amazed him most—Jodie’s outright disregard for her promise of just a few hours earlier, or that minuscule concoction of crimson latex masquerading as a dress.
The dress won—by a whisker.
“What part of ‘absolutely no alcohol’ was not perfectly clear to you, Jodie?”
He deliberately kept his voice soft but still she had the grace to cringe. Jodie studied the half-empty bottle in her hand as though not entirely certain quite how it came to be there.
“I just… I mean, I thought—”
“And did we not also discuss late nights? Partying?”
“Yes, we did, but…”
Her voice trailed off. She dropped her gaze and shifted from one foot to the other. At least she didn’t seem inclined to defend her crap choices, but even so…
