Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (39 page)

I remember that day. I hurriedly wrote a check for three-million-dollars. I was about to deliver it when Ella got sick. I passed the job to Kris because a sick baby-girl comes first. I wonder if my life would have changed if I went instead of her. I wonder if I would have ended up on the sidewalk in front of
163 Covington
debating whether or not I should clack the gargoyle knocker on the scary red door.

Chapter Eleven

I have to say that my training wasn’t what I expected. Nowhere in my wildest imaginings did I think being encased in latex with only a mouth-hole to breath from would be in the repertoire.

The past year has been a test of my patience and my will. It has been totally unexpected. Three times a week I visit the Brownstone Dungeon. I’ve been in every room and tried all the equipment. I’ve excelled at some and hideously failed at others. I’ve found what flips my switch and what turns my stomach. I’ve come to the realization that Marcus is a twisted sonofabitch. If I suck at it, I do it until I perfect it and do it again. If I hate it, I do it until I can tolerate it and a dozen times more. If I love it, it’s my reward. If it makes me physically ill or frightened, it’s my punishment.

What surprises me the most is how we
interact. When I visit we always eat together before my training. Jamie sits in the shadows, but joins us. I can’t see him and he still won’t talk to me, but I enjoy his presence. After my training for the night we either sit and talk or take a walk. A few times we’ve gone to the movies or taken turns driving the Spyder at breakneck speeds down the deserted highway at three am. It’s not just me and Marcus either; Cort is with us more than apart. Taking a walk with Jamie is an experience that Cort finds hilarious and it pisses me off. I’m blindfolded and led down the street like a puppy with her Master holding the leash.

Our Master may be a sonofabitch, but a loving one. He demands total submission and enjoys it when we say no. I’ve learned the hard way not to say no.

He was lonely in a way that only the wealthy can feel. The absence of trust is heart-wrenching. These stolen moments of time, the comforting touches, the shoulders to cry on, and the laughs to share are to bond us all to him and to each other. I know he’s this way with his son Ezra, Cortez, Aaron, The PB, Jamie, Dexter, La Petite Sadist, and me.

What he’s done is create a family that he can trust, one that would lay down their lives for him. He’s created a shelter in the storm for all of us. I love him with my whole heart. I’d protect him as I would my own children. I don’t love him as you do a man, for he is no ordinary man- he is a God
walking among men… And right now I want to kick his perfect, marble-sculpted ass.

“Stop pelting me with pistachios, Asswipe.” I’ve endured several minutes of Cort’s ministrations. Yes, I love Cort, too. But he p
isses me off in equal measure.

I’m in the sensory deprivation room. It’s the size of a pantry. Marc led Cort and me in here and said, “Play nice children. Don’t kill each other. I’d be very angry if you did. I may even cry a little.” Then he left me in here for Cort to terrorize. Like I could hurt him, I’m in a latex sheet, suctioned to the wall. I can barely breathe, let alone enact my revenge on the asshat tossing nuts at me and laughing when they bounce.

“Why are we doing this again?” It’s my fifth time attached to the wall with latex.
“Hell if I know. You should’ve had Dexter train you. You’d have been done months ago. He’s wordy and lacks on the instruction. He was more interested in hurting me, and I, him. But I spent most of my time fighting with Dexter’s mini-me,” he says snidely.

He’s not using a metaphor. He literally means he fought her every day for weeks. Like cage-match style, punch to the kidneys, and break your nose fights. Personally I’ve never met the woman, but she scares the shit out of me. Cort also dislikes Dexter. I don’t know what the three of them are pissed about, but Cort is the center of the issue. They get along without him.

I haven’t stepped foot into Restraint since the first night Ade sent me on my mission. Marcus won’t let me go until my initiation. He wants his trainees to be perfect examples of him. Cort’s not lying; the PB has been training for over two years.

“Is Jamie here with us?”
I ask of the resident recluse.

“Of course.
A couple of those nuts were his,” he snickers like a teenage boy.

“How come he won’t speak with me?” My voice sounds
sad to my latex covered ears.

“Are you sure you want me to tell her?” He asks after
a pause. “Very well, I will.”

“Regina, he’s mute. I’m sure he’d love to talk to you, but he can’t. He speaks
with us though sign-language.”

“Oh,” I feel so daft. “I’m
sorry,” mumbles from my lips.

“He doesn’t want your pity. He says that he’s glad you f
inally know,” Cort translates.

“How can I communicate with him if he won’t let me see him?” I whine.

“Speak to him, Regina. He’s right here, for Christ’s sake. He’s not deaf. I talk to him and he speaks with his hands. We also text and email. Maybe he would be willing to share that with you.” He pauses again. “Yes, he’d like that very much. He wasn’t sure you’d want to communicate with him.”

“I’d love to. I wish you’d let me see you, Jamie. I’d learn sign-la
nguage.” I try to persuade him.

“Why c
an’t I see you?”

“I’ll answer this one. He’s very much a man. He isn’t as pretty as he’d like. You’re a gorgeous woman, Regina, and he doesn’t want to see the look on your face when you get sad by his appearance. A man wants to turn a woman on, not frighten her.”

“I’m not that shallow,” I protest.

“We know that. But he’s still a guy and he’d rather you friend him as you are now, not out of pity. Just because he’s a submissive doesn’t m
ean he wants to be de-manned.”

“Okay,” I say sadly. “I’ll talk to you, Jamie, and I’d very much like to communicate online.”

“He said he’ll be in touch. He left us.” Cort’s voice is filled with concern.

“I
didn’t mean to push him away.”

“He comes and goes at will. Sometimes I look to see him and he’s there, a second later he’s gone, and the next time I look, he’s back. It’s just how he is.”

“How bad is his face?” I want to know and at the same time, I don’t.

“Part of his lip is scared. There’s a slash through his left eyebrow, past his nose, on his cheek. He’s very hand
some, but he has his pride.”

“That’s so sad,” I cry.

“He doesn’t want pity.” He sighs heavily. “Five more minutes.”

“Explain
why I have to do this, again.”

“I h
ave no idea,” he sighs again. 

“Why’s there so much traffic in the Brownstone tonight? It’s
usually just us.”

“Tonight’s the PB’s initiation. And you’
re not invited,” he taunts me.

“Thanks, ass-munch. Why’s his name PB, anyway?” I ask for the thousandth time knowing I won’t get an answer. I’ve tried everything and none of
it’s worked. Tenacious- my name is Regina. I’m also insane for asking the same thing over and over expecting a different result.

“It’s Pretty Boy, because he’s so damned pretty it hurts to look at him. The nickname doesn’t do him justice,” he says sounding impressed. 

“I can’t believe you told me,” I say in shock and awe. What was the big deal about hiding that name. It tells me nothing.

“Your initiation’s coming up soon. You’ll meet the Masters one at a time. Pretty Boy will be on
e of the Masters you’ll meet.”

“Get out, Cort.” Marc’s voice permeates my covering and he sounds furious. I’ve never seen him anything but even-keeled. I worry that Cort’s in trouble for telling me the secret of the nickname.
I want to defend him for once.

“Yes, Master,” Cort says snidely.

“Don’t fuck with me tonight. It’s initiation and I can do whatever I want with anyone I want. Do you want me to do a repeat of yours? I can have Ezra kneel for you again.” Marc sounds thrilled by the prospect.

“No, Sir. I apologize.” I’ve never heard that tone in Cort’s voice before. He’s serious and scared. What happens at initiation?

“Good boy,” Marc coos to Cort. “Our newest Master had a request on his initiation day. I’m rewarding him. Please join me in the bondage room while they have their privacy.”

“Whoa… How’d you pull that off, Pretty Boy? You must be one hell of a manipulator or ass kisser.” Cort sounds impres
sed by the man- full of pride.

“Regina can’t see you, but she can hear and talk. Don’t talk to her.
If you do- no initiation. Understood?” I wait for him to say yes and fail the test. But he’s smarter than that. 

“So did he make you do this too? You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?” I nervously talk to him for some reason. I can feel the intensity of his stare. He’s eating me alive.

He taps me on the lips with a fingertip. It’s the only exposed flesh I have. Everything is covered in bright, blue latex.

“Once for yes, twice for no?”
Tap
. “So he made you do this ridiculous shit, too.” Tap.

“Do you know why?”
Tap. Tap
.

“Are you scared about tonight?”
Tap.

“Me, too.
Well, for you tonight and me in a few months. Any clue about what he was hinting at with Cortez?”
Tap.

“Shit! You can’t tell me. Remember to tell me in the future. I’d love to know what scares the shit out of Cort.” A very deep sound rumbles from his chest. It’s comforting. He’s trying not to laugh. I shut up. I doubt he wants to chat with me, since we can’t. I’m seriously getting sick o
f this blind and deaf routine.

His hands roam my body where the covering’s shrink-wrapped against my curves. He makes a sound of appreciation in the back of his throat as he fondles my breasts. I’m surprised Marcus’s allowing this. He has a hands-off policy in affect. He’s the only one allowed to touch me. He’s to be my world. And I only get it for reward.

This past year was filled with sexual tension the force of a hurricane. I haven’t been rewarded very often.  Cort can’t behave long enough to be rewarded ever, but his punishments are our Master’s reward. Cort apparently wants his Master well rewarded.  I assume the man in front of me plays by the rules or our Master would never have allowed him to touch me.

I haven’t been touched in three months. My mouth spews thoughts my mind tells it to not say and then I’m punished. I’ve been a bad girl for almost three months.

My eyelids slip shut behind the security of my covering. It feels amazing to be touched through the latex- smooth and nerve tingling. I now know what this exercise is for- the future. So I won’t freak when I’m encased and fondled.

Every square inch of my body that he has access to his nimble fingers explore. He’s particularly fond of the split between my thighs. I worry that he’ll try to take advantage, but he’s exploring not molesting.

All of the sudden, he leans against me and embraces me in the only way he can- he covers me with his body and leans all his weight against me. He’s exactly my height. We touch at forehead, nose, chin, chest, hips and thighs. His arousal presses eagerly into my mound and belly. His sweet breath flows into my mouth. He holds himself back from connecting our lips and I whimper.

He’s very controlled. He’s ea
rned his right to be a Master.

“Aren’t you allowed to kiss me?” He makes a noise of desp
eration deep inside his chest.

“Not yet or never?” The same sound of frustration erupts. “Oh, sorry, it has to be one at a time. Not yet?”

He taps his nose against mine once for yes.

“Oh, do you want to?” I receive the growl of frustration again. It must be a sound he makes often- he’s perfected it. His fingers grip my hips hard enough to bruise and he presses against me so hard that I wonder if he’s trying to join his b
ody to mine or push through me.

“That’s enough,” Marc says softly. “I know you’re frustrated right now. You’ll get your chance to bear all of your emotions to her at her initiation. See how you feel now? That’s why I’ve kept you separated. It was necessary. She didn’t know you were here and you didn’t know she was here- it was for the best.
Kristal’s being properly punished for telling you. Be thankful that I’ve offered you this boon. Regina doesn’t have the relief.”

“What are you talking about?” I demand.

A soft sob shakes the new Master and Marcus says words of comfort under his breath. I hear a rhythmic patting and I know he’s hugging his protégé.

“Cortez will take you to Restraint. He’s waiting in the foyer. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Did you enjoy his touch? I was curious to see his reaction to you. It was a pleasant surprise, but not uncommon that he’d identify with you in such a way. Your sexuality develops when you’re on the cusp of maturity. It will help him during his initiation. He looks as crazed as a wild bull. All that anger, sadness, and hunger will be interesting when he unleashes it on the other Masters.”