Dalton (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (27 page)

He whispers into my ear, “While the guys are moving your belongings, Dexter will ease you of your agony and guilt.
”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“You don’t have to do this, Dalton,” Dexter says for the tenth time.
“Yes, I do,” I say as strongly as I can.

“We can do this in private at least,” he looks around uneasily. “Do you really want your boyfriend seeing this?
What about your dad. Jesus, your ex-wife’s even here,
”
he grumbles.
He steps from side-to-side and scratches his head.

“Ah, shit! I’m sorry, Dexter. I know you don’t like being on exhibit, but my
punishment is for all of them.”
“I understand,” he says in defeat.
He’s tried to talk me out of it for the past hour. I wouldn’t do it until all the members were back. Ezra returned with Katya after the girls were settled. They left them in Niel’s capable hands. I was informed that my sister was nearly hysterical and that she’d finally passed out from sobbing. We were also told that Diane wasn’t at ShadowHaven and my mother gave Roarke the slip. She never returned to the Edge Building for her belongings. No doubt the women are together.

“Master Dalton would like to formally apologize before he receives his punishment,” Dexter says from atop the dais.

I pull myself onto the stage and take a few breaths to center myself.

“I want to apologize for unwittingly leaking information that was used in the Masters of Restraint books. The consequences of my actions
has
caused Restraint’s doors to close and created the media frenzy.
I apologize for all of the problems that my actions have caused you and your families and the affects it had on your jobs and lives. My mother was my Master. She was the Master of the Lifestyle and she used that position to make me think I was helping rather than hurting you all. I want to apologize individually to each and every one of you for my heinous behavior. I will not use my Master’s commands and demands as an excuse. Please take my punishment as atonement.”

The St. Andrews cross is directly in the center of the dais on my request. I wanted to be in full view as I took my punishment. I strip down until I
’
m completely bare to the skin. I walk up to the cross and get into position. I haven’t been whipped since my father did
it
when I was a boy and he tried to whip the gay out of me.

I take a deep breath and nod to Dexter that I’m ready.

Dexter straps my hands and feet to the cross with leather cuffs. The entire time he runs his hands over my body massaging my muscles. The touch isn’t sexual. He does it out of respect to calm me and to make sure I don’t cramp.
My body falls lax under his touch.
I don’t panic because I know what to expect. Fear is for the unknown or the things we cannot bear to endure. This type of pain I’ve endured all of my life. I use it to bleed the pain from my soul. My body feels so full of
agony
that I can barely stand to breathe. The ache, the pressure is unbearable.

This isn’t just about my guilt and shame over being the leak, the mole. It’s about the ignorance I feel for allowing myself to be blindly led. It’s about the loss of my father. I know that he was an honorable man and that he allowed my grandfather and mother to twist him into an unrecognizable monster. It’s the same monster I’ve allowed them all to turn me into. The guilt and shame over my past transgressions try to release through the sobs that keep building, but it’s not enough.

I need the punishment to relieve the pressure from knowing that my mother didn’t love me. That she didn’t think I was good enough to love, to live. I know I’m good enough and that I deserve to
live. It’
s a right that is afforded to us with our birth and no one has the right to take it away. I grieve because my mother is that broken, that she feels nothing insid
e but bitterness and an evil wrongness
. I’
m
ashamed to call the woman my mother because she saw a club as her reason to live. She thought our lives were to bargain for the club.

I use this punishment to let go… to let go of the past and move on to an unknown future. I use Dexter’s gift to heal.

“Word of advice: Do not go
into a memory. Stay in the here-and-
now. Become one with the pain and your mind will convert it for your release. Release your pain from that deep well inside
of
your mind. Know that when this is over the emotions and feeling that placed the pain inside
of
you are gone. You will have atoned and anything else is just shit that’s someone else’s issue that they pushed onto you instead of
having
dealt with. They are the cowards, not you. It takes an immense amount of courage to do what you’re doing right now, Dalton. Own it- respect yourself,” he whispers rapidly into my ear.

“Heal,” he screams over the crack of the whip.
“Ahhh…” I moan as the leather strikes the flesh of my left shoulder.

The pain is so intense that it eclipses everything inside of my mind.
My mind tries to protect me by delving into a memory, but I hold out even as the next strike connects with my thigh. I scream through the pain. I will myself to stay in the here-and-now because I can’t heal if I live in the past.

Each hit is more intense than the last but I make less noise each time. I feel pride well up knowing that I’m powering thought and overcoming the agony. My mind no longer tries to dredge up the past and fling me into things better left in my subconscious. Instead I experience the sensation of the leather slicing across my flesh. The hot sting that radiates from the welt sears the ache away.

I let go… I finally let go…

My body arches in my restraints. A guttural moan spills past my parted lips. My seed flows down my thigh in a scorching torrent. My mind blanks into the perfect clarity of
a cleansing release. I feel nothing but a disconnecting bliss. Mind and body break apart and reform as one being.
I heal…

Chapter Twenty-Four

There’
s an advantage to living with a therapist. He tries to get you to talk so you go next door and spend time with the mute.

Master Marcus moved all of my belong
ing
s to the Brownstone that I trained in when I first moved to the city.
It
’
s
two side-by-side homes connected inside by a common foyer. On the right is the training side. The entire bottom floor is room after room of different themes. I
’d
spent a great deal of my training in the impact room at the hands of Alex.

The second floor of the right-hand Brownstone is Jamie’s domain. He’s a mute recluse who works for Marcus. I enjoy his company because he can’t ask how I am and he doesn’t look at my scars in pity because he has his own to contend with.
On the left side of the Brownstone is Alex’s apartment. I guess it’s mine now, too. He’s never home. Most of his time is spent in Queen’s guesthouse with Kristal.

I’ve been here a total of fourteen hours and I already wish he’d go back to his girlfriend’s house. His constant hovering and the
how are ya
and
you wanna talk about it
are driving me batshit. That’s why I’m on the right-hand side eating pizza and playing dirty-word scrabble with Jamie. It sounds fun and easy until you realize that you have to be creative to come up with any words to play. You’d think that being a BDSM Master would give me an advantage over the straight, submissive man. Nope, he’s a mute author. His life is words. I’m losing miserably and doubting Marcus’ decision that this is the best place for me.

R U O K Jamie spells out and I jump from my seat and yell, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
He rotates his tray around.
J K.
And he laughs hysterically- a creepy noise
from
deep in
side
his chest.

He can’t laugh or talk thanks to an assault he lived through. The way Marcus looks at him I can tell he barely lived through it. Every time Marc looks at
Jamie
he gets misty-eyed and hugs him for no apparent reason. Marcus isn’t a cuddly guy either. 

Q U E
E
R.
I play on a triple word score and grin.

If I’d played that you would’
ve gotten offended.
Jamie writes
on our conversation tablet. I know a bit of sign language but sometime the note pad is faster.

“Yeah, right, wheezy,” I tease. “You’ve used fag and cocksucker.”

His gnarled upper-lip sneers at me. He’s a beautiful guy if you don’t look at his mouth. White-blond hair, bright blue eyes, and dimples are a gorgeous combination until you look at his lips.

“Whittenhower alert,” Alex yells from his side of the house.

Jamie freezes and then thaws. He quickly signs
later
and runs to the back of the house. I hear his footsteps pound on the backsteps and his bedroom door slam shut. He does this for every visitor. I’m used to it after training here for over a year.

“In here,” I call to Whitt.

“Interesting,” he drawls when he sees the scrabble board. “I see Jamie was with you,” he says as he picks up the tablet and reads what Jamie had written throughout the course of the game.
“You’re a lucky bastard,” he teases. “I trained here for almost three years and I never got to see Jamie. He always lurked in the shadows. They made Queen where a mask when they’d take walks together. It’s very frustrating. Niel gets the same treatment. I feel jipped. Jamie wouldn’t let me wear the mask,” Whitt frowns at the words on the page and scrubs a hand over his face.

“He’s not too bad to be around. Chatty Cathy over there was driving me nuts. Jamie’s muteness is a godsend.”

“Just tell him to knock it off. It’s what Kristal does when he goes on his addict tangents. He won’t mind.”

“It’s weird. I’ve been friends with him for three years and yet you and I’ve never crossed paths
outside of the dungeon
.”
“You weren’t the easiest person to be around, Dalton. You know that. I’m not saying it to be mean. I’ve spent a lot of time over at Queen’s house because I’m Kristal’s Master when we play. She’s such a pain in the ass that it takes all three of us to control her urges.”
Whitt kisses me softly to lessen the jab. It’s true. I didn’t allow anyone to befriend me. Marcus demanded that Alex befriend me. I had no choice in the matter.

“I thought you and I could go on a fieldtrip. I know Queen spoke with you about getting me to go see Ade.”
“Queen scares the shit out of me. It’s like talking to an oracle or some shit,” I tease.

“She’s not so bad,” he laughs. “Not many people can get her to back down.”

“Are you one of the people who can get her to back down?”
“On occasion, but not often. We fight a lot,” he laughs. “Hell, we fought just before I came here. Since we’re going to WinterCrest I guess you know who won the argument.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You,” he says simply.
“What’d I do? I dropped it last time because I could see it bothered you. I told you I
’d never pressure
you.”
“No, not that.
What your mother did to you. How you didn’t even know that you were the one who was giving out the information to the enemy. My father’s bad, too. He’s done some horrible things to get what he wants. I was doing everything to help my sister until she snapped. Queen kept telling me that my father made her snap. I didn’t believe it. You don’t go postal on a pregnant woman because someone told you to. We all heard everything your mom said last night. She said a Whittenhower wrote part of the book and that has to be my father. That’s why we’re going to WinterCrest.”
“Let’s go,” I say and head for the front door.