Dalton (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (3 page)

I quickly turn my back on the voyeurs, Kristal, and even Whitt. I stand still as I try to contain the release flowing through my veins and flooding out my cock. My body trembles and small whimpers escape between my lips.

The humiliation and shame slam into my body with a force that almost takes me to my knees. He was just toying with me. He most likely is seeking revenge for one of the many nasty things I’ve said and done. I deserve it, but I’ve never attacked him. He was always sweet and kind. It felt like kicking a dog when it’s down.

He was my intended target when I was sent here and still I respected the young man. He’s only
less than a year younger
than me, but not in life experience. There is something almost childlike in his demeanor.
But I was wrong. He’
s a master manipulator. He has the ability to mask his will, just as I have been
doing
. Doesn’t he already know that I punish myself harder than anyone else could? The pai
n from my actions hurts my soul
. And now I’
m humiliated as well.

Seeing the smug look of triumph on Whitt’s face is a knife to my heart. My control fractures and I lash out. I push my palms into his chest as hard as I can and shove. I feel momentarily vindicated as he is flung
back
several feet.

“Did I pass your test? Are you fucking happy now,” I hiss between my clenched teeth. I glare at the pretty boy and show him every emotion that is raging through my system. I turn heel and run from the room.
I fling the door open to my private room so hard it reverberates against the wall and rebounds back hitting me in the head. It knocks sense into me.
Pull it together, Font. You have a mission- complete it and get the fuck back home!

Chapter One

My phone rings a Cabaret song. I immediately fumble for the device in my back pocket.
The song is like Pavlov’s dog. I hear the sound and the invisible leash that is tethered to my master
’s
hand
is
yanked tight in her fist.

“Master,” I breathlessly answer.

“I call for your nightly report,” her French accent is
thicker than usual. I know she’
s worried. I can feel it in my soul.

“I’m sorry, Master, tonight was fruitless.
Restraint is still closed for business due to the problems with security.” As I speak with her my
accent thickens and becomes pronounced. I will forever be Font with her. I can’t hide in her presence.

“It’s for the best that they’
re closed. I think it should remain closed indefinitely. It would solve a lot of problems,” she says haughtily.”

“Master, you
don’t mean that,” I chastise, but
I’m pretty sure she does.

“I do. Look what happened to you a few weeks ago. They can’t even keep their Masters safe,” her voice is thick with hostility.

“That wasn’t their fault. Someone set all of this in
to
motion. I’m working my ass off trying to figure out why this is happening and who is leaking the information about our Masters. I’m trying,” I whine.
“Soon it will be too late,” she sighs out heavily. I wince
because she thinks I’m
failing her.
“I’m trying my best, Master,” I
plead
. “Please don’t be disappointed in me. I will get us the information.”

A sound jars m
e from my conversation. Dexter’
s standing in the doorway with my death in his eyes
,
leaking menace.

“You should have shut your fucking door,” Dexter hisses as he pushes into the room and kick
s
the door closed. He bears his teeth at me and growls.
“
Dexter, it’s not what it sounds like. It’s not what you think.” My voice is pleading as I hold
out an arm in front of me
in a stay motion. I know it will do little good. I’ve done too much to
him for him to see reason. He’
s beyon
d reason now. I can see that he’
s not in control of his own actions. His instinct is
his driving force
.

Fire spreads through my left side and I collapse to the floor. He kicked me in the ribs and I heard a telltale snap. I wait for the agony to set in as I slip into shock. Te
ars form in my eyes because I’
ll finally receive the atonement for all the evil things I’ve said and done in the name of my Master.

“It’s not what you think, Dexter.” I try to reason with him again. The glazed hate in his eyes screams my defeat. I come to terms with my fate.
“I’d figh
t back if I were you,” he growls
menacingly and lunges for attack.
“Master, help me,” I scream piteously into my phone.
“I love you,” she says in terror and the call ends.
The
blows rain down heavily all over my entire body. I curl up in
to
the fetal position and protect my head. Fist… boot… boot… slap… wrenches silent screams from my chest. I feel my flesh part beneath his clenched fists. All the while he screams and hisses his hatred at me.

My breathing becomes shallow as each breath fires agony into my lungs. I concentrate on the sensation of my tears slipping down my cheeks. I imagine the cool wetness draining from my flesh as my body’s way of weeping- blood not tears.

My vision is clouded with pain. My mind swirls with all the bad deeds I’ve committed, all the sins I’ve yet to pay for. I close my eyes and seek my final atonement praying for absolution.

The pounding ceases at the same time I hear my salvation. I whimper in thanks to my Master.

“Don’t move or I will beat you and you won’t like it any more than the child did.” His deep rumble is a comfort even in its fury.
“Child?”
Dexter says in confusion.
“You don’t understand what’s going on, Dexter. You’ve allowed your emotions to cloud your judgment. Dalto
n is not the mole. And he’
s still a
child. You’re beating the hell out of someone who isn’t fighting back and is fifteen years your junior. Wake up and get some fucking control.”

I blink several times to clear my vision. Dexter is held at arm’s length by the huge man.

“He has to be close to my age. No fucking way is he a kid,” Dexter says dismissively. If I could work my mouth I’d tell him that he’s wrong. What the members of Restraint see is Dalton Thompson, not Font.

Strong arms slide beneath my body and lift. I scream out in pain as my ribs revolt. He gently presses me to his chest and I whimper. The pain makes me speak words I’ve held in check even in private.
“Daddy,” I cry as I breathe in his familiar scent.
“It’s okay, son. I’ve got you. Dexter, follow me. I have to explain.” His voice rumbles next to my ear as he speaks. He glides smoothly to the hidden door at the end of the hall. The walk up the flight of stairs is smooth. He manages not to jostle
me with every step for which I’
m thankful. I don’t look back to see if Dexter follows. I can feel his confusion and shame wafting around us.

“Um- Daddy?
I don’t know how to tell you this, Devlin, but you’re a six and a half foot tall black man and he’s
a tiny man with skin the color of wallpaper past
e. It’s a genetic impossibility,
” Dexter says from behind us as we enter my two-
room efficiency apartment.
Devlin settles me gently on the bed that dominates the main room. I wince from the sharp stab of pain that radiates from my left side.
“His sperm donor is dead. Blood doesn’t make you a
parent, Dexter.” I can tell he’
s annoyed by the way his deep voice lowers into the depths of hell.

“I’m sorry,” Dex
ter
placates. “What happened to his Dad? I didn’t know you were married.”

“
We’re not sorry.
The man is dead along with all of his friends
. His mother and I are close. Clearly
, I’
m willing to kill for her.” His voice is a deadly as the knife we u
sed to kill my family’s
tormentors
.

Dexter starts shifting to the open door. Devlin’s large strides eat
up
the space in a second. He firmly closes the door and snaps the deadbolt into place.
“I won’t hurt you. I understand your motivations for beating him. I’ve
been
waiting for this moment to h
appen. I have to tell you what’
s going on, but first I have to care for my son. Please have a seat.”
Devlin politely pulls a chair from the small dining table and places it near the head of the bed. Dexter
reluctantly
sits and glances around my humble home.
My bland
,
brown wig is worked free of my hair. I panic when I realize Dexter will see me.
“Shh… It’s okay. We have to place faith in him. I trust him to put Restraint first. I know you can’t tr
ust him, so trust in me instead,
”
Devlin promises me.

Once the wig is removed
,
strong fingers comb through my chin length, black hair. It’s a relief to feel the strands brush my face. Those same fingers slowly move towards my eyelids and I try to pull away. The movement spears agony through my left side.
“I have to remove the contacts or I can’t see your pupils. I need to see how they dilate to
determine if you have a concussion. Relax,” he says as his hand pushes my chest until my back is pressed into the mattress. I couldn’t struggle if I wanted to. His hand is so large that it covers my entire chest.

The fingers are back. They pry my eyelid open. Devlin
moves
the hand from my chest
and
reaches over and plucks the
flat, brown contact from my eye
. He repeats the process with the opposite eye. He smiles down at me warmly when my green eyes are revealed.

“There’s my boy,” he says in pleasure.
“
I’ve had a hard time looking at you since
I arrived.
It’s
creepy how different you look.”
Dad places the contacts in their appropriate spots in the case and puts it in the nightstand drawer. His hands return for my
shirt and I freak out. I grab his wrist and my fingers do not meet.
“No,” I protest. My eyes are huge as I pointedly stare at Dexter. I don’t want him to see me.
“The shirt goes, Font. Dammit, I know you have broken a rib. Let me bind the damn thing before they get here.”
The fight leaves me. He’s right. It would be worse if they witnessed the injury. The giant hands lift my t-shirt over my head. I lean forward and suck in a pained breath to allow the shirt to leave my back. The thermal shirt is next to go
,
leaving me naked from the waist up.

The rib pain is nothing compared to the look of horror on Dexter’s face as he sees the ruination of my skin. My entire torso is covered in burn scars. They aren’t deep, but obvious next to the pale of my flesh. The scars cover my back a
nd parts of my arms as well. I’
m slowly covering myself in tattoos. Four prominent ones are displayed on my back. I simultaneously feel pride and shame over those particular tattoos.

“What happened to you?” Dexter’s look of horror changes as he sees me clearly for the first time. I finally look my age and nothing of Dalton Thompson.

“A misunderstanding,” I reply shallowly.
Devlin leaves the room in search of bindings. I debate talking to the man who beat me until my bones br
oke and my skin burst like over-
ripened fruit.

“Obviously
, I’
m undercover. I was sent here by my Master to find your mole. I’m not very good at it.” I look him in the eyes for the first time ever and he gasps.

“Who are you? Why did you fuck with my wife?” He asks me in confusion.
“I test all of you. I wasn’t sure how to get to you so I used Monica. If it makes you feel any better I was physically ill after I left her in your room. I fuck with each one of you equally. You’re all so strong that the only way to get to you is
to
grind you down by being an asshole. Eventually one of you will lose cont
rol. And you’
re the winner,
”
I smirk at him without humor.