Master of My Mind BN (8 page)

My lids slid shut. Keeping them open took more effort than I
could manage. It was easy to imagine languishing in this splendor for days,
weeks, hell, even months. But the longer I lay with him, the more defined
reality became. The fog in my brain began to lift. Soon Tony would have to
leave and make his appearance in the dungeon. His throng of pain sluts waited
for the taste of agony Tony commanded from the end of his whip.

I couldn’t afford naïve fantasies about him floating through
my head. The slice of peace he’d given me wouldn’t last. And even though his
arms felt heavenly, offering him an easy out was for the best. Forcing my eyes
open, I inhaled a deep breath.

“You don’t have to stay. I’m better now, besides I’m sure
you have asses to beat and nipples to torture.”

I felt his body shake with silent laughter. Though I had no
reason to hope, I prayed he would stay a little longer. I’d yearned for the type
of comfort he was providing for four long days. I didn’t want to give it up. As
soon as the thought crossed my mind, guilt began slithering in. Was it so wrong
for me to take what I needed from another man? Wrong for me to let a sadist
launch me into subspace? That fact alone blew my mind.
Me
, bunny flogger-bondage girl accepted every
whack of Tony’s righteous spanking and jettisoned off to oblivion. The sense of
serenity he’d provided on my maiden voyage had been so surreal and calming. So
much so, I wanted to go there again. My cravings were bewildering.
What was wrong with me?

Confused and muddled seemed to be a natural state for me
over the past four days. Being with Tony exacerbated the discombobulated
feelings within. The logical parts of me wanted to shoo him out of my room, but
the selfish empty parts of me ached for him to stay.

“I can hang out with you a little longer. Close your eyes,
and get some rest. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Safe from what?”
I mumbled against
his steely chest as my eyelids drifted shut.

“Safe from sub-drop, sweetheart,” he whispered.

“
Mmm
,” I purred. I’d seen subs
break down after intense sessions. George had explained that sub-drop played
havoc with emotions. I’d never experienced it, but I didn’t want to chance
fate. Why had Tony given me such a spectacular gift, one that brought me such
peace? I decided
don’t ask-don’t tell
might be safer. Sometimes ignorance
was
bliss.

“Go on. Ride those endorphins a little longer, angel. It
will do you some good.”

As if Tony had been a hypnotist and snapped his fingers,
sleep pulled me under. It was a hard, heavy slumber, free of my usual
nightmares.

When I woke, the room, the bed, and my arms were empty. The
lack of Tony’s refuge was unsettling. Why was I missing the man? Obsessing over
a sadist/shrink, who played games with my head wasn’t a merry-go-round ride I
needed to take, yet I couldn’t seem to get off the damn thing. Why the
attraction to Tony? How had he crawled inside my head so damn fast? I was
supposed to be in mourning. If I’d truly loved George, I wouldn’t be thinking
about any other man.

Climbing out from beneath the warm sheets, I padded to the
bathroom. Once done with my business, I washed my hands and stared at my
reflection in the mirror.

I’d never studied Psychology 101, but it didn’t take a
genius to connect the dots. On some psychological level, I was substituting
Tony for George. Instead of allowing the sadist to sail me off to subspace, I
should have made an appointment with him on a professional level. Maybe he
could prescribe a pill that would help me pull my head out of my ass.

“You’re an idiot,” I chastised my reflection, turned and
walked away.

I didn’t want to analyze Tony’s easy invasion of my psyche
or my attraction to him. I’d deal with that
craptastic
ball of confusion… later.

Rummaging through my dresser, the only clothes I could find
aside from skimpy fetish wear was a pair of black sweat pants and a pink
T-shirt. My feet were still freezing, but I couldn’t find a pair of socks in
any of my drawers. My fingers trembled and a pang of sorrow sliced when I
gripped the nobs on George’s side of the dresser. I thought it ironic that only
hours earlier I was hell bent on going back to the house we’d shared to
confront his ghost. After the horrid day I’d had, the rawness kept me from
pulling the damn drawer open. Just the thought of seeing his belongings sent my
heart racing.

The walls felt like they were closing in. A cold sweat broke
out over my forehead and upper lip. I’d been such a fool to think I could
surround myself in memories of George without them sending me into a tail spin.
Consumed by a rush of panic, I turned and raced out of the room.

Standing in the hallway, I bent at the waist, gasping for
breath, as the sounds of painful pleasures echoed from the entrance of the
dungeon. The scent of leather and sex hung heavy in the air. Rising upright, I
glanced up and down the long corridor. There wasn’t another soul in sight. It
was another brutal reminder that I was utterly alone.

“Oh, George,” I whispered. “I want you back so badly.”

Standing in the hall, there was no place to run and escape
my broken heart. I couldn’t find the willpower to enter the dungeon. I would
only fall apart again watching our friends engaging in their power exchanges.
The toll Master’s memories took in our room paled in comparison to the thought
of watching happy BDSM couples fulfilling their desires. Yes, it was much safer
in my room. Spinning back around, I grabbed the knob as a wave of regret poured
through me. It was locked, and I didn’t have a key.

I closed my eyes and swore under my breath. Mistress Sammie
was the keeper of the private room keys. She was no doubt dominating the bar,
serving drinks and smiles to the members. While she wouldn’t hesitate to give
me an extra key to our room, I had to enter the dungeon to get the damn thing.

“Suck it up, buttercup. They’re not going to stone you to
death,” I murmured as I forced myself to step toward the dungeon. “No, just
smother you in pity.”

I wrinkled my nose and hurried toward the archway. Tucking
myself behind the slight recess of the wall, I peered into the dungeon. The
place was in full swing. Nearly every station was in use, and most of the
tables were filled with members watching and quietly talking. I was relieved
that no one seemed to notice me peeking out from behind my hiding place. And
like a masochistic voyeur, I scanned the stations, watching the scenes.
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I tried to hold in the ache as I wistfully
watched my friends.

Dylan and Nick brushed the tails of thick floggers across
Savannah’s shoulders, back, and butt. Her arms cuffed to a cross high above her
head. The two Dom’s were focused on their sub, conveying with words and touches
how precious she was to each of them.
God how I envied her.
Savannah was the center of their worlds, and Dylan and Nick made sure she knew
it.

George had made it clear to me, too, but in different ways.
He wasn’t as generous with public displays of affection, but he spoiled me with
trinkets and clothes and trips. When I would reach down and hold his hand, he
would give it a little squeeze pull away and drape his arm over my shoulder in
a less romantic attachment. I suspected he was trying to save me the
embarrassment of condescending or judgmental stares. While I didn’t give a
rat’s ass what others thought, I always had the impression that he did. George
made sure I had everything tangible that I longed for, but the one thing I
ached for the most was his outward sign of our bond.

I watched as Dylan and Nick each lowered their floggers and
approached Savannah. In unison, they caressed her reddened flesh with their
hands as they reassured and praised her with kisses and whispers only she could
hear.

I had to look away.

A bittersweet smile tugged my lips when I spied Trevor,
bound in ropes, lying supine on a padded table. Drake’s busy hands toyed with
his sub’s cock. Bright red rope had been tied tight around each of Trevor’s
bluish testicles, bisecting them. And as Drake stroked Trevor’s long, turgid
shaft, the big Dom warned him not to come. Trevor sent him a mournful plea
before Drake landed his fingers in a brutal slap over Trevor’s strangled
scrotum. The younger man’s cries of pain echoed through the room, and I cringed
just a little.

The recoil of a whip sent a shiver up my spine. Glancing
toward the sound, I instantly wished that I hadn’t. The powerfully built Dom
had his back to me, but it made no difference. I knew by the decadent muscles
and colorful tattoos it was Tony. He stood behind a sub secured to a spanking
bench, gripping a black and red plaited whip in his wide fist. Shirtless, his
black leather pants hugged his tight ass and sturdy legs. His defined shoulders
bunched and flexed beneath his bronzed flesh and his colorful tattoos rippled.
I clenched my hands, itching to feel his tempting hard flesh again. I licked my
lips and remembered the taste of his kiss.

As if sensing my presence, Tony turned. As his gaze locked
with mine, I could almost feel him caress my skin. Feel the same stirring heat
his fingers evoked as they plucked and pinched my nipples. The buds drew tight
against my tee and tingled with the memory.

His mouth fluttered with a slight smile as my cheeks grew
hot. Severing the connection, he turned his attention back to the sub bent over
the spanking bench. Tony smoothed one broad hand over her pale skin. Jealousy
pricked my heart. Glancing at the long blonde tresses shrouding the subs face,
I knew Destiny—the lucky little bitch—had finally arranged her session with
Tony. As he stepped back, I couldn’t take my eyes off him… couldn’t force
myself to look away even as envy coursed angrily through my veins.

I stared in fascination as his whip found its mark, time and
again. Commanding and confident, Tony worked the sub. His shoulders widened;
his chest expanded. I watched him drink in her cries of pain as if they were
welcome nourishment. Red angry welts crisscrossed Destiny’s backside. Still,
Tony didn’t stop. He landed the single tail’s popper with succinct and measured
lashes. I cringed and searched deep for a sliver of any untapped longings
within that called to his type of extreme play. No matter how hard I searched
my fantasies, I couldn’t find a hint of desire close to the level he required.
And still I stood mesmerized, watching.

The sensual sway of his body, the honed roll of his
shoulder, and the quick flick of his wrist was an art form all its own. His
focus, keen on the sub, never wavered. It was clear to see. His whip was an
extension of his heart... his soul. The sadist’s pleasure was a sharp, wicked
blade, and Tony walked the narrow edge with relentless precision. The intensity
of his desire was a formidable mountain. Each lash commanded the girl to climb
higher as he guided her through angry welts and imposing pain—persuading her
ascent to the peak, absorbing her tears and screams, he fed his dominance.

Tony was poetry in motion, his command powerful and
unyielding. Compared to Destiny, my submission was useless…weak. My heart grew
heavy realizing that if given a chance to submit to Tony, I had nothing
substantial to offer. I would simply slide through his sturdy fingers like
sand.

Tony set the whip down, squatted next to Destiny, and gently
brushed the hair from her face. Tears streamed from beneath her closed eyelids.
Tony leaned in and sipped the moisture from her cheeks between his lips with
tender reverence. The comfort he now showed Destiny wasn’t at all different
from what he’d granted me. The realization I was just another sub in need of
Tony’s compassion sucked the air from my lungs. I was nothing more than a
Dominant obligation to him. And while I shouldn’t have allowed it to hurt…it
did.

Hot tears slid down my face, yet I couldn’t stop watching
his every move. Tony released the sub from the bench, wrapped her in a blanket,
and lifted her into his arms. Lowering his mouth to her ear, he whispered,
probably in the same whiskey smooth voice that made my pussy weep.

Betrayal stabbed deep. A voice screamed inside my head that
my behavior with Tony had come full circle, and this was my comeuppance. Karma
was indeed a hateful bitch.

Tony pressed a kiss to the sub’s forehead, awarding the same
affection he’d given me. The tender act set my stomach swirling and my body
quaking. Somehow I’d twisted myself into believing I was someone special in his
eyes. How could I have been so damn naïve?

With Destiny’s limp body clutched to his chest, Tony turned
toward me. Spying my tears, his brows furrowed as a puzzled look lined his
features. And when he began walking toward me, I realized he would have to pass
by me to take Destiny to his private room. He’d lay her in his bed and climb in
next to her and drown the woman in sublime aftercare…maybe even make love to
her. Tony would willingly give her all the things I’d stupidly let swim in my
head and touch my heart.

I didn’t want to pass him and head to the bar, so I turned
away as he approached, swiping off my tears, before casting my gaze to the
floor. I didn’t want Tony to see the sophomoric hurt I’d inflicted upon myself.
When I felt his presence behind me, it was like a fucking disturbance in the
force. I closed my eyes for a half second, calling myself a zillion kinds of
fool as Tony stopped alongside me.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

What’s wrong?
You.
Her.
My whole fucking life!

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

I felt his stare bore into the side of my face, like a damn
laser beam. I kept my gaze pinned to the floor and slid my trembling hands
behind my back.

“Why are you standing in the hall crying, sweetheart?”