The Art of Domination (51 page)

I don’t answer her. I can’t.

“You’re so pathetic, Isabel. You can’t even take care of yourself. Dylan has to do everything for you. He even has to feed you
and bathe you like a helpless little slut. What did he ever see in you?”

Has to?
Dylan doesn’t
have to
do those things for me. He wants to do those things for me. I’ve never asked him to dress, feed or bathe me. I open my mouth to scream at her and she backhands me hard with the butt of the gun and I feel my lip split instantly. My eyes water and I grimace from pain and cover my mouth with my hand. I feel blood oozing from my still tender lip from when Alex beat me. I look down at my pretty dress and it’s covered in my own blood. I feel heartbroken. It’s such a pretty dress.
Dylan will be so angry with me that I got blood on it
.

The pain is throbbing and
I hold pressure on it, trying not to ruin my gown any more.

The woman throws her head back and laughs cruelly.

“Look at you. You’re not so angelic now, are you?”

I start crying and my response pisses me off.
I hate crying.

“You pathetic little bitch, stop crying!” she yells at me and backhands me again. “Dylan and I are going to be together. He told me so. Did you know that? All I have to do is take it up the ass like you an
d be submissive. That’s what he told me. So guess what that means? It means he doesn’t need you anymore now that I’m here. ”

She shoves t
he barrel of the gun in my face and the stark reality hits me that I can’t even fight back. I close my eyes tightly and start humming a song and I try to float above myself. I can’t take this anymore. This is too much. I need to get out of here. I pull my knees up to my chest and drift away...

Once a
gain, I’m surrounded by pretentious assholes who don’t know fuck all about art. I think at least half of them are just here because of my bad publicity and they want to get a good eyeful of Isa and me together.

There are a handful of seriously interested people and several critics who are having a hay day with Isa’s paintings. From what I’ve overheard, they have nothing but good things to say about her work. They even seem shocked as if they didn’t think she had any real talent and my pull was the only reason she had a show to begin with.  I look over towards where she’s at and Sawyer is standing in front of the office door dutifully. I make my way around the room to Kerian and greet him.

“Isabel’s work is fantastic, Young. You should both be proud,” he says looking at a nude painting of a woman in full bondage.

“I’m extremely proud of Isa.”

“She looked mortified, poor kitten. Is she okay?” he asks, concerned.

“Yes, I think so. She’s
shy with strangers and this all a bit overwhelming for her. She was very hesitant to share her work with so many people.”

“Why? It’s sexy as hell.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, but she’s just shy by nature.”

“I’d love to have some of her work in the club,” Kerian comments.

“That would be great. I’m sure Isa will agree to it with a little coaxing,” I say.

“You mean a spanking?” he whispers.

“Yes, that, too.”

What the hell is taking Isa so long, anyway?
She looked so damned adorable, all nervous and shaking like a leaf.  It’s hard to believe that’s the same Isa who takes control in the dungeon. I guess she truly is a switch. Shy on the outside and submissive most of the time but with a feisty controlling side to her. I love that she’s unpredictable like that. It makes life interesting.

I look down at my watch and realize that
Isa’s only been gone for 15 minutes. I suppose that’s not too long considering the circumstances, but I can’t help but worry about her. I decide to go and check on her and I see none other than, Greer.
I can’t believe that douche bag is here
. He’s standing conversing with one of the critics and acting like he knows what the fuck he’s talking about. I approach them and Greer eyes me warily.

“Mr. Young,” he nods politely.

“I hope you don’t believe a word this man is telling you,” I say to the critic.

Greer laughs nervously and makes believe I’m kidding. He puts his hand on my shoulder as if we’re close acquaintances and I count off to ten, trying to stop myself from punching him in his
narcissistic head. Greer sees the fuck-off look I’m shooting him and he takes a step back.
Good idea, motherfucker.
Seriously, what the fuck is he doing here? My mind is flooded with images of him fucking a drunken Isa with his mouth all over her and doing God knows what else to her. I hear myself sigh loudly while the critic and he talk animatedly about Isa’s work. Greer quickly takes credit for selling me her first paintings and introducing us. His muddled English accent is driving me fucking insane and I feel my hand twitch into a fist.

“It didn’t really happen like that, now did it?” I interject.

The critic looks at me befuddled by my response and Greer laughs nervously again.
Don’t do it, Young
. Don’t say it. I’m biting my bottom lip, fighting back the urge to say what’s on my mind and thinking about my public image…

“
Fuck off, Greer.”

It comes out before I can stop myself.
Oh, well.
There’s goes my public image
. The critic looks shocked and Greer’s face contorts and his cheeks blush red. He politely excuses himself and I glare at him while he uneasily looks over his shoulder.

I casually explain to the critic that we’ve had a business disagreement and leave it at that. I look down at my watch and it’s now been
25 minutes.
What the hell is taking so long?
I get an uneasy feeling deep in my belly and my mind starts racing. I need to find Isa.
It’s probably just my paranoia…

I walk back to the room and excuse Sawyer. I hear a woman’s voice muffled and I open the door slowly. Jesus Christ. Isa is sitting curled up in an office chair with her knees pulled up to her chest and a gun pointed in her face. I don
’t recognize the woman until she turns to look at me. Holy fucking hell, it’s Cassie. I’m so ignorant for not figuring this out sooner and checking up on her.
Stay calm. Keep it together, Young
.

“Hello, Cassie,” I say in a controlled voice.

She smiles nervously at me and lowers the gun slightly.

“How did you know it was me?” she asks.

“Of course I knew it was you. I recognized your voice on the phone. I could never forget the sound of your voice, Cassie,” I lie.

Isa remains motionless, humming and rocking herself. My heart breaks for her. I want to scoop her up into my arms and protect her. This night was supposed to be special and this stupid bitch has ruined not only ou
r wedding, but tonight as well.

When I look at the gun, I see
Isa’s ring on Cassie’s wedding finger and that the gun is cocked. My stomach goes into free fall. Did I just walk in on her getting ready to shoot, Isa? I feel my face flush with anger.
Just breathe, Young
. I need to focus.

Cassie is staring at
me with a creepy smile on her face. Her hair is cut like Isa’s and bleached. She looks freakish and bizarre. She starts muttering something softly like she’s talking to herself. This woman needs help. Sawyer is out of earshot and my phone is my pocket. What should I do?
Engage her in conversation, Young.

“I like your hair,” I comment.

She touches it with her free hand and
emulates Isa twirling it between her fingers. Then she smiles widely at me.

“Do I look like Isabel?” she asks.

“No, you look better than Isabel,” I say, feeling sickened at saying such a wretched thing.

Isa stops humming and looks up at me confused.
She has to know that I’m just playing along.
Her lip is painfully swollen and bleeding. 

“I got blood all over my dress, sugar. I’m so sorry. Please
don’t be angry with me,” Isa says dismally. Her eyes are glassy and her voice is unrecognizable and childlike. She’s regressing and I feel my eyes well up. She’s on the verge of another breakdown. 
Fucking hell
. Isa is waiting for my response, but I can’t show her any emotion for fear of what Cassie will do.
This is a fucking nightmare.

Cassie looks
incensed at Isa’s interruption and backhands her. The sound of the gun hitting Isa is more than I can handle. I’m infuriated and I lunge forward, but stop myself when Cassie glares over at me and points the gun at Isabel’s face. Isa pulls herself into a tight ball and starts rocking herself again and crying.

“Shut the fuck up you stupid
, worthless, no talent bitch!” she screams at Isa.

Just another day at work…
My poor, sweet, beautiful Isa.

“Cassie, enough,” I say sternly.

She gapes at me, not sure what to make of my statement.

“You said we could be together, Mr. Young,” she says narrowing her eyes at me.

“Yes, I did, and I meant it. But if you keep shouting, people are going to know something’s going on in here and they’ll come in. Is that what you want?”

I’m trying to speak logically to her and it seems to work.

“Right. Of course. Good thinking, Mr. Young. I mean, Dylan. I mean, Sir. Or do you want me to call you Master like Isabel does?”

Christ Almighty
.
I try to suppress my urge to vomit at the sound of Cassie using those terms with me. “I want you to call me Master.”

Isa looks up and her eyes change. She cocks her head to the side
and looks wounded. Isa looks from Cassie to me and shakes her head
no
. I look at her and try to telepathically tell her that I’m only saying these things to appease Cassie. 

“Are y
ou going to fuck me on the X, Master?” Cassie asks.

Christ, she doesn’t even know what it’s called.
“Yes. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to be my submissive?”

Isa’s dejected
look quickly changes to fury. Her eyes flare and dilate, and I see her breathing quicken. She stands and fists her hands at her side and Cassie raises the gun as if to hit her again or shoot, but I put a stop to it before she can hurt Isa.

“Sit down, Isabel. This doesn’t involve
you anymore,” I say coldly.

Cassie smiles, but Isa looks hurt and her mouth
trembles. Her eyes scan me up and down and she stands immobile.
God damn it.
I don’t need her to be stubborn right now. Doesn’t she know this is a matter of life or death?

“Sit the fuck down
!” I yell at her.

Isa sinks into the chair and her eyes gloss over.  She pulls her knees up to her chest again and she starts rocking herself.
I feel like vomiting.

Cassie giggles and reaches over and touches Isa’s hair.

“Can I kill her now?” she asks.

“I don’t want to talk about that. We’ll deal with Isabel when the time comes. For now, I want to talk about us; about what I expect out of you as my submissive.”

Isa puts her hands over her ears and starts humming. I’m doing my best not to look at her. I can’t take seeing her like this.

“Why don’t you put the gun down, Cassie?” I say calmly without taking my eye
s off of her.

She looks dubiously at me.

“I don’t think so,” she replies, raising the gun to Isa’s head again. “Come over here, Master. I want you to touch me.”

This is
truly a fucking nightmare
. Just do it, Young.
I walk over to her slowly and stand in front of her.

“Touch me,” she says as
her index finger caresses the trigger teasingly.

“Haven’t you learned anything from watching Isabel and I? I decide when to touch you. I decide everything.”

Cassie’s eyes get big and her breathing becomes shallow.

“Are you going to pick out my clothes and dress me like you do her? Feed me and bathe me, too?” she asks, watching my mouth.

Isa’s humming stops and I see her tip her head up to watch us.
Focus, Young.

“If you prove yourself worthy, yes, I will.”

“Touch me, Master,” she says and I close my eyes briefly to suppress the bile rising in my throat.

I reach up and behind her head, pulling her hair. Her hand never w
avers and her aim stays steady on Isa. I pull her hair, tilting her head back and run my other hand down the front of her. She moans out my name and feel like wrapping my hand around her long neck and squeezing tightly until the light in her eyes goes out.

I see Isa out of the corner of my eye shift in the chair and gasp at my action.