The Master

by Ashe Barker

  “Yes, Sir,” she said with absolute certainty.

  “Hmm, we’ll see. Tell me what you want right now.”

  “You. I need you to fuck me.”

  His chuckle had an ominous edge to it that rang alarm bells in her head and for the first time, she felt a twinge of apprehension. Where’s he going with this?

  “When I fuck you, Jodie, it won’t be here. You will be tied to my bed, helpless and begging for mercy,” he growled, his eyes glinting dangerously.

  “Oh, God,” she whimpered as the burn in her pussy intensified. “Shit, I really need to come.”

  Dylan took hold of the back of her neck and kept her head in place as he glared at her. “You will not come now. In fact, you are not to come at all until I say you can. That includes when you are alone.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Jodie scowled at Dylan, not sure whether she wanted to thump him or beg him some more.

  “This is your punishment. No submissive of mine tells me to shut up or tries to manipulate me into spanking her.” He held her eyes with his the whole time he spoke, letting each word sink in so there would be absolutely no misunderstanding. There was no compromise, no leniency, just the firm command of a dom.

  Jodie’s wilfulness drained out of her, leaving her stunned at her desire to be compliant. Was this what true submission felt like? Then something he’d just said echoed in her head. Fuck! “Does that mean I’m your submissive?” she whispered.

  Dylan smiled and the hard glare instantly softened. “Like I said, if we take this slowly, then we might be able to make it work, but if it ever gets in the way of your training we’ll have to have a rethink. Okay?”

  Jodie nodded happily. “Sounds good to me.”

  “We’ll arrange to meet one evening soon so we can talk properly. We need to understand each other’s limits and expectations then we can take it from there.” He paused and squeezed her hand. “Now, you should go home and take that ice bath. I think you need it for more than just your muscle recovery. Then get a good night’s rest. You’ve got your first practice session with Tanya tomorrow and I want you to be on form for that. I have to leave early because I have a dentist appointment so you’ll need to lock up when you’ve finished.”

  * * *

  The practice session with Tanya the following day was a lot of fun. She was a good opponent, better than Jodie remembered, but still not a threat to her. The time had flown by until they’d eventually decided to call it a day. Dylan had already left and they were alone in the hall as they bowed to each other.

  “Was that your new coach I spotted earlier?” asked Tanya as she removed her head guard.

  Jodie grinned. “Yes, he’s tough, but he’s an excellent trainer,” she replied, trying to keep her voice neutral. She didn’t want word to spread on the circuit that she had anything going on with her coach. Gossip spread like wildfire and she would hate to be the subject of it.

  “He’s very good-looking,” Tanya said, with a coy smile playing on her lips, “and sexy.”

  Jodie shrugged. “I can’t say I’ve noticed.”

  Tanya laughed. “Yeah, right. Anyway, thanks for today. It was helpful. You certainly look like you’re on good form.”

  “Thanks, you too.” Jodie meant it, but she didn’t mention that she thought that Tanya needed to work a bit more on her tactics. Tanya might be good with her technique, but if she couldn’t react that fraction of a second faster, she wouldn’t stand a chance of winning the nationals.

  “Oh, and congratulations on your sponsorship. I’m really happy for you although I won’t pretend I’m not a teeny bit envious. What with a hot new trainer and the sponsorship deal, you’ve really landed on your feet.” Tanya lowered herself onto a wooden bench and removed her shin guards. “You’re going to be bloody impossible to beat next week,” she added, laughing.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Jodie, as she slipped on her new outdoor jacket with the bank’s logo embellished across the back. “You gave me a good run for my money today. Keep that up and I’ll have to watch you.”

  “Yeah, right.” Tanya grinned as she picked up her bag. “Do you want me to wait for you?”

  “No, you’ve got to get back to Croydon and I need to lock up. Thanks again for today and see you next week.”

  “Yeah, see you.”

  As the door behind Tanya clicked shut, Jodie took a moment to absorb the calm silence. The large hall was almost always full of energy and noise. She gazed down at the spot where Dylan had kissed her yesterday and smiled to herself as a warmth spread through her body. She had been good last night, gone to bed without her vibrator even though it had nearly killed her to abstain.

  Sighing, she stood back up and stretched. She left the hall to check the changing rooms then returned and flicked the switch off in the main hall, leaving only the dim emergency lights on. She grabbed the keys, picked up her bag and flung it over her shoulder as she turned to head for the door. But then she stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted a figure waiting in the shadows. She gasped and dropped her bag, ready to defend herself.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Jodie.”

  What the fuck? What was George Hartwell doing here? “Mr. Hartwell?”

  Mr. Hartwell stepped into the light. “I thought I’d see how you were getting on.”

  “Oh… er… you should have said you were coming and we would have arranged for you to be more comfortable,” said Jodie, frowning.

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” he replied with a casual shrug.

  He stepped closer, a smile frozen onto his handsome features. It was clear that he would have been very good-looking when he was younger and he had aged well. His hair was greying at the temples, which gave him a distinguished look along with his perfect teeth and manicured hands. His dark suit fitted him so perfectly that it must have been handmade and his shoes didn’t have a single scuff on them. On the surface, the man exuded style and charm, so why was there a very loud warning bell clanging in her head? Maybe it was because his smile didn’t quite reach his icy blue eyes or perhaps it was because those eyes didn’t make contact with hers?

  “What can I do for you?” Jodie asked, trying to ignore the prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

  “I hear your training is coming along nicely.” He spoke in a low, controlled voice with no hint of emotion.

  “I’m doing my best.”

  “Yes, I know, but I need you to do me a little favour,” he said in the same impassive voice as a moment ago.

  Jodie narrowed her eyes at him and squared her shoulders suspiciously. “What kind of favour?” Was he going to demand that she sleep with him? Well, if he was she’d soon put him in his place.

  Mr. Hartwell took another step toward her and stopped within arm’s reach. He was so close now that she could smell his expensive cologne, but she stayed where she was, determined not to show any weakness by backing away.

  “You have a competition next week. I want you to lose it.”

  Jodie laughed, convinced he was joking. “Why would I do that?”

  Mr. Hartwell finally looked directly into her eyes. “Because I’m telling you to.”

  Jodie glared at him, stunned. “I’d like you to leave now,” she said, the chill in her voice matching his cold expression.

  “I mean it, Jodie. You either lose the final match and therefore the whole competition next week or you lose your sponsorship.”

  “You can’t do that,” she gasped.

  “Oh, I think I can. All it would take to break the contract is one bad word about you that could be seen to cast a shadow on the bank’s reputation.” He allowed his eyes to roam down to her breasts then back up. “Something like frequenting certain fetish clubs.”

  Jodie was too stunned to speak. He’d had her followed before he’d offered the sponsorship. Why?

  “Oh, and you are not to tell anyone about our little arrangement or the deal will be off.”

  “We do not have a deal, Mr. Ha
rtwell,” snapped Jodie. Her fists cramped with the effort of not knocking him out cold. Who the hell does he think he is?

  Mr. Hartwell’s icy expression sent a chill through her as his lips curled to form a triumphant smile. “I repeat, you are not to tell anyone about our little chat. If you do, I will make sure your coach not only loses his job, but gets struck off so he can never teach again.”

  “What?” He’s bluffing, he’s got to be.

  “I have connections at British Taekwondo and I won’t hesitate to use them if you even hint at anything I’ve said. Just make sure you do what I’ve told you and keep quiet about it. Good day to you.” Mr. Hartwell turned and strode toward the door.

  “Fuck you, George Hartwell,” she shouted as it closed behind him.

  There was no way she was going to deliberately lose a match. No fucking way! The mere thought was ridiculous. But without the sponsorship deal she wouldn’t be able to afford to train full time let alone pay for all the travel and equipment costs for the nationals that were only a few weeks away. She shook her head in despair. If she didn’t win next week the knock-on effect could mean she wouldn’t make the Olympic team, but if she didn’t do what George Hartwell had demanded, she wouldn’t make the team anyway. Which was the lesser of two evils?

  She needed to tell Dylan. She had to tell him. But if she did he would challenge Hartwell and could lose everything if Hartwell carried out his threat. She would never forgive herself if Dylan lost his career because of her.

  Maybe, if she were to lose the regional next week, she could blame it on illness then come back stronger and prove herself at the next competition? That would keep George Hartwell happy and hopefully wouldn’t affect her overall points too much. She picked up her bag, her decision made. She needed this sponsorship and she wasn’t prepared to put Dylan’s career at risk. She would do as George Hartwell had demanded and lose next week. Just this once.

  Chapter Four

  Dylan turned the shower spray to maximum and swivelled the showerhead to create the narrow jet of water he preferred after a good run. It was still early, not yet seven in the morning, but he felt ready to take on the world.

  Jodie’s training was progressing better than he expected and her chances at the first round of regional championships were good. Better than good. Her suggestion to spar with Tanya Monroe was proving to be inspired. The other girl was quick and lacked nothing in technique, but Jodie’s raw talent and innate grasp of tactics would always give her the upper hand. She would probably have been the better competitive fighter anyway, but the sponsorship from Bishop HLS tipped the scales still further.

  Oh, yes, they had work to do. But that Olympic place was now Jodie’s to lose.

  He killed the shower and stepped out. A few minutes later, fortified by a mug of fresh, hot black coffee, he texted Jodie.

  Training from 11. Then, after, we’ll grab something to eat. We need that talk.

  Their official business together might be going well, but their personal issues were a potential minefield. Dylan didn’t like mess or loose ends. He could no longer deny that he and Jodie were hot for each other, they shared the same kinky urges, and he just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. If that was how it was between them, then they needed some ground rules. He needed to know what she wanted and expected from him. She, in turn, needed to understand his requirements and agree to his rules in advance. There could be no misunderstandings to trip them up or, worse, derail their training schedule.

  Jodie was on time, as always. She strode from the female changing area in her pristine white dobok, still securing the black belt around her waist. She flashed him a quick smile, then without being instructed to do so she made her way to the corner of the mat and set her phone in a small clip. She selected some music, Kings of Leon, adjusted the volume setting, then started her aerobic workout.

  Christ, she’s sexy. Especially when she’s not trying.

  To the strains of ‘Sex on Fire’ Dylan adjusted his swelling cock within his own tracksuit bottoms then took up his position beside her. They were both panting by the time the energetic burst was concluded and it was time for their warmup and stretching routine.

  The music changed, this time a Sia album. They went through the familiar poses and exercises without speaking, though he couldn’t fail to notice the faint outline of her pert nipples pressing against her loose jacket when she angled her arms behind her head and gently extended her triceps. Nor could he miss the perfect shape of her bottom when she bent at the waist to extend first her left leg then her right to stretch her calf muscles.

  “You got my text?” She hadn’t responded, but the message showed on his phone as being delivered.

  “Yes.” Her reply was short, and, he thought, lacking in enthusiasm.

  “Is everything all right?” He cast her a glance as he folded his leg up beneath him.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Why indeed? “If you’ve changed your mind…”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Okay.” Something in her attitude was off, definitely. He would discuss it with her later. First, they had work to do.

  The warmup complete, Dylan collected their protective headgear from the shelving at the side of the gym. He passed Jodie’s head guard to her then watched as she fastened the strap around her chin. “Do you want me to check that?”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  “Even so…” He tested the tightness of the strap, his knuckles grazing her jaw as he did so. She lowered her eyes. Come to think of it, she had yet to really meet his gaze at all this morning. “You okay, Jodie? You seem a bit… well, not quite yourself.”

  “I told you, I’m fine,” she snapped. “Can we just get on with this?”

  Dylan was far from satisfied. Even without the added complexity of their budding D/s relationship, taekwondo was a martial art based upon respect and politeness as much as physical fitness and skill. A student did not speak to her coach in the dojang in such a manner and Jodie had been trained better than that. Once they had their D/s dynamic worked out, he would definitely deal with this sort of sullen petulance in a more direct manner. For now, he decided to let her work out her frustrations in the way she clearly preferred.

  “Give me some kicks to start with. A knee strike, followed by an axe kick, then a flying side kick.” He tugged his own head guard into place and strolled to the centre of the mat as Jodie circled around him, seeking her moment. Her knee strike was fast and accurate, but of course he was expecting it so could easily avoid it. Jodie delivered the rest of the sequence in rapid succession, then went on to work her way through many more set pieces at random.

  Dylan danced away, evading some of her attacks, blocking others, but many found their mark. Push kicks, a roundhouse kick, a scissor kick, and a dizzyingly fast spinning hook kick streaked past his defences.

  Christ, she’s good, a joy to train.

  “Try the scissor kick again. I want to see that you have your balance and weight distribution just right.”

  Jodie obeyed, repeating the move until he was satisfied her technique was perfect. Then he had her practice her jumping front kick until the perspiration beaded on her forehead.

  They paused to gulp down fresh water from the mini fridge in the corner of the dojang, then set to again, working through Jodie’s extensive repertoire of kicks, punches, and blocks. They finished the gruelling session with a strenuous round of sparring. By the time Dylan raised his hand to signal the end they were both panting and sweating. Jodie sank into a squat and tugged the elastic tie from her hair.

  “Shower, then we go find a place to eat. And talk. We have issues to settle, you and I.”

  “Sure.” She got to her feet, still not meeting his gaze. “I won’t be long.”

  “I’ll wait for you in the foyer.”

  * * *

  “Right. What’s the matter?” Dylan came right to the point the moment they settled into their booth in the It
alian diner a few minutes’ walk from the dojang. They had ordered at the counter and now had a short wait for their lean steak paninis and salad.

  “Nothing. Really, I’m fine.”

  “You weren’t fine first thing. You behaved as though you had broken glass for breakfast.”

  She raised her chin and met his gaze at last. “Did I? I’m sorry, I just…, I had a bad night’s sleep, that’s all. I was tired.”

  “You didn’t seem tired when we were working. Or sparring.”

  “I suppose I must have shaken it off by then. If I was rude I apologise.”

  Dylan studied her features, searching for hints, for clues. He found none, though he did detect the faintest sheen of tears in her pretty blue eyes.

  “Are you crying, Jodie?” He gentled his tone.

  She blinked hard. “No, no, I was just… I don’t like to upset you, obviously. Not when we… when we…”

  “When we’re just working out if and how you can be my submissive?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Exactly that.”

  “You still want this?”

  She nodded harder. “Yes! Definitely. I’ll do anything. I mean, I could—”

  He raised his hand to stop the torrent of frenzied promises. “I don’t expect you to do just anything. I expect you to do what you want, what you choose, and not to do it just because I tell you to. Your desire to please me, to obey me, that’s what will make you want to do ‘anything.’ Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, I think so. I mean, I’ve been reading…”

  “Romantic fiction? BDSM novels?”

  “Yes, but not only those. There are websites, blogs. That sort of thing.”

  “Yes, there are. Okay, I get it that you’ve done your homework and you’re not new to the lifestyle. But you don’t know yet what sort of dom I’d be, or what sort of submissive you are.”

  “I know I like to be spanked.”