Read Mistress of Redemption Online
Authors: Joey W. Hill
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica
Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Mistress of Redemption
ISBN # 1-4199-0682-8
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Mistress of Redemption Copyright©
2006 Joey W. Hill
Edited by Briana St. James.
Cover art by Syneca & Willo.
Electronic book Publication:
September 2006
This book may not be reproduced or
used in whole or in part by any
means existing without written
permission from the publisher,
Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®
1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH
44310-3502.
This book is a work of fiction and
any resemblance to persons, living or
dead, or places, events or locales is
purely coincidental. The characters
are productions of the authors’
imagination and used fictitiously.
Warning:
The following material contains
graphic sexual content meant for
mature readers. This story has been
rated X-treme by a minimum of three
independent reviewers.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three
levels of Romantica™ reading
entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E
(Erotic), and X (X-treme).
S-
ensuous
love scenes are explicit
and leave nothing to the imagination.
E-
rotic
love scenes are explicit,
leave nothing to the imagination, and
are high in volume per the overall
word count. In addition, some E-
rated titles might contain fantasy
material that some readers find
objectionable, such as bondage,
submission, same sex encounters,
forced seductions, and so forth. E-
rated titles are the most graphic titles
we carry; it is common, for instance,
for an author to use words such as
“fucking”, “cock”, “pussy”, and such
within their work of literature.
X-
treme
titles differ from E-rated
titles only in plot premise and
storyline execution. Unlike E-rated
titles, stories designated with the
letter X tend to contain controversial
subject matter not for the faint of
heart.
MISTRESS OF REDEMPTION
Joey W. Hill
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the
trademarked status and trademark
owners of the following wordmarks
mentioned in this work of fiction:
Aerosmith: Rag Doll Merchandising,
Inc.
Band-Aids: Johnson & Johnson
Corporation
GQ
: Conde Nast Publications Inc.
Kahlua: The Kahlua Company
Mercedes: DaimlerChrysler AG
Corporation
Monopoly: Hasbro, Inc.
Play-Doh: General Mills Fun Group,
Inc.
Superman: National Comics
Publications, Inc.
Preface—A Word About Jonathan
(or Nathan)…
For those of you familiar with my
earlier works,
Holding the Cards
and
Natural Law
, the idea that
Jonathan is getting his own story
might be shocking. Make a hero out
of the “bad guy” who nearly
destroyed Lauren’s soul? Who almost
got Mac killed? Joey, have you lost
your mind?!
Jonathan was the worst kind of
bottom. A twisted sub, a sexual
predator who enjoyed manipulative
games with his chosen Mistresses
until he destroyed them emotionally
and moved on to his next prey. The
only person who stopped him was a
Mistress who was more of a
sociopath than he was, who used him
to try to kill Mac Nighthorse. If she
had succeeded, of course my fans
would have wanted to consign
Jonathan to Hell forever, for no male
hero of mine to date has been as
widely beloved as Mac Nighthorse
of
Natural Law
.
Truth be told, it never occurred to me
that Jonathan should have his own
story. Not until a fan (who is a
Domme) started pushing me in that
direction with questions like
“Why does he continually have to
prove his manhood by submitting and
then manipulating others? How does
it serve him better than being a
regular Dom or a bottom? Why
choose to masquerade as a sub?
Deep down, is he a real sub? What
does he get out of it? What would it
take to stop him in his tracks and
make him see what he’s missing by
never surrendering himself to real
intimacy? What would force the
issue, breach those walls?”
Just like that, Mistress Dona
appeared in my imagination and I
knew that Jonathan needed her. What
cinched it was finding out how much
she needed
him
. When two people
are bound the way these two were, I
have to write their story. So here’s
Mistress
of Redemption
. I won’t say enjoy the journey, because it’s not
that kind of trip, but I hope you find
something here that feeds your heart
and soul.
This book is dedicated to “Maven”,
who believed enough in Jonathan that
she convinced me and my Muse to
look deeper. To believe that even the
worst among us might be redeemed,
if the love and justice applied is
strong and balanced enough to heal
the soul. It makes me wish there were
more Donas in the world, people
able to drive evil away and help the
soul find its way back to the gift of
unconditional love freely offered by
another.
Joey W. Hill
Joey W. Hill
Chapter One
The duffel bag hit the edge of the
road, sending up a puff of gravel dust
that lingered, seemingly reluctant to
settle in the still, humid air. The day
he’d been brought to Wentworth
Prison it had been hot and sticky, for
Florida summers knew no other way
to be, but it had not been like this.
The light of the sun was harsh,
painful to the eyes as it reflected on a
ribbon of asphalt flanked by expanses
of sand and scrub that stretched out
from one horizon to another. He
hadn’t remembered the prison being
the only feature of this desolate
wasteland, but five years was a long
time to remember a detail that had
been so insignificant at the time.
He could have moved back into the
shadow of the guard tower to wait
for the bus, but he rejected the idea.
He wasn’t planning on turning around
or looking at the prison ever again.
Prisoners about to be released had
two choices for transport. He could
catch a bus ride back to the county in
which he was arrested, compliments
of the state, or he could make his own
pickup arrangements. Call a friend, a
family member.
So he waited for the bus, not because
he had any interest in going back to
Tampa, but because there was no one
to call. The life he’d built for himself
—Jonathan Powell, successful
stockbroker, upwardly mobile
twenty-something—was over. Gone
and ill-fitting on him now, like a
costume the day after Halloween. He
had enough to live on for a while, but
his old employer wouldn’t be
begging to have him back. Not the
accomplice to the S&M Killer, the
woman who’d tried to off two cops
as her final coup.
He wouldn’t find a career in finance,
where corporations regularly did
criminal background checks as part
of the hiring process.
It didn’t matter. He’d find a hotel, a
shower and plan to be across the
country in a week. Maybe Oregon.
Mountains. Cool, green. He could
hire himself out as a subcontractor in
places where new construction was
booming. Once, in another life, he’d
been a better-than-decent roofer.
Fearless no matter the pitch, always
keeping his balance. Sometimes he’d
taken his lunch break up there. Sitting
shirtless in loose jeans, his knees
drawn up to anchor himself on the
slope as he ate his sandwich, he’d
almost felt at peace. Clean despite
the filth that had dried in a film on his
sun-browned skin from the hot, dirty
work.
A loser, he reminded himself. He’d
been a no-money, nobody loser then.
And here he was again.
When a wavering line appeared on
the horizon, he squinted. Sweat
rolled down the center of his back
and dampened the waistband of his
jeans. Damn bus probably wouldn’t
be air-conditioned, just a fan up front
for the driver.
6
Mistress of Redemption
It wasn’t a bus. It was a car. A red
Mercedes convertible, the top down,
the driver flying along at what looked
to be a smooth ninety. The exhaust
turned the air around the car into a
mirage, wavy lines confusing the
eyes so reality vied with illusion.
Then the car drew closer, became
more defined. As did the driver.
A woman. A woman with dark
sunglasses, red lips and dark hair
whipping and tangling around her
face. He could almost feel the
pleasure of the wind as he stood in
stagnant heat. The idea of seeing a
real woman, even if it was just a
flash as she passed him on this
godforsaken highway, curled its way
around his cock and stroked it like
the touch of her fingers. With long,