Teddy Bear Sir (The Sloan Brothers Book 3) (20 page)

“
Elise, kneel.”

She stood immediately, murmured, “Yes Master”, and knelt at his side in her previous position.  Then he turned to me.

“
Master Pierce, you admitted wrongdoing and implied that you would accept the punishment on Elise’s behalf.  Are you ready to make good on that offer?”

I could have pointed out that this whole thing was ridiculous.  I could actually have made the argument that I had never MET this Mistress Ruby, and therefore I had no argument with her whatsoever.  She had no business placing her hand or anything else upon my person.  But for the sake of getting past this and out of here without further adieu, I said neither of those things.

Instead, I stood in front of the bench that was too low to allow me to bend over it easily, even if I knelt.  I waited while Mistress Ruby joined us at the front of the class.

She shook the hand of the instructor and then she offered her hand to me.  I shook it reluctantly and waited again.  She turned to the class.

“
The bench is too low for someone of Master Pierce’s height.  In this case, I would normally suspend him with cuffs and carabiners from the ceiling, or restrain him to a St. Andrew’s cross.  Since neither of those options are available to me, I will have him lean over and place his hands upon the bench.”

She was clever, I’ll give her that.  I was beginning to bend over when she stopped me.

“
Master Pierce, drop your trousers.”

There were two things wrong with that statement.  First, again, the request lacked the word, “Please”.  Second, she was dwelling in Crazy Town if she believed for one second that I would bare my body to this crowd.

I used my height to my advantage and towered over her.

“
No.  I will most certainly NOT be dropping my trousers.”

She picked up a riding crop and flicked it viciously against my bare arm, leaving a welt.  I took the crop from her and broke it in half.

“
Listen to me you evil bitch, you may think yourself a Dominatrix, but NO ONE dominates me be it with whip, crop, or cane.  Are we clear on this?”

I rarely lost my temper and I never lost my cool.  I could be seething in anger and control my demeanor with ease.  Something about a riding crop and a welt inflicted by a stranger made me see things in a different light.

She and I were staring each other down, waiting for the other to admit defeat, when Master Daniel cleared his throat.

“
I see we have a problem here.  Two dominant personalities, one willing to assist in a punishment, and the other refusing the crop.”

I swung around and leaned towards him, forcing him to take a step back.

“
The only person who perceived me as deserving of punishment, is you.  She...”

I gestured over my shoulder, “...is a sadist who wants nothing more than to inflict pain on someone and she doesn’t care who.”

Master Daniel cocked his head and placed his index finger on his chin as if in thought.  I had serious doubts that he’d ever had an original thought in his life.

“
Perhaps you’re right and perhaps you’re wrong.  I’ve had no prior dealings with Mistress Ruby and am not as quick to judge as you are.  What do you propose as a solution to our dilemma?”

This was no dilemma.  This was a farce.  The welt on my arm was beginning to throb and my theories regarding this particular instructor and the people in this class were beginning to take flight.

I turned to the class.  They were sitting on the edge of their seats like vultures waiting for an easy meal.  I for one had learned nothing thus far, and saw no sense in taking this encounter any further.  I had arrived for the class and had the wristband to prove it.  My obligation to Melody had been fulfilled.

While he stood there waiting for my answer, I began unrolling my sleeves and buttoning my cuffs.  When that task was completed, I turned once again to Master Daniel.

“
I see two possible outcomes to this situation, both are satisfactory to me.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and grinned.

“
Please continue.  I’m all ears.”

I shifted my weight onto one hip and crossed my arms in front of me.  To everyone present, I’m sure I appeared bored.  I’d been told that before when I took this position and it served me well.

“
Actually, you’re all mouth, but at this point, that’s stating the obvious.  There are two ways this can play out.  You and I can go outside and I’ll beat the hell out of you, or I can leave now and never return.  One allows you to continue teaching a class, one does not.  Choose.”

There was not a sound to be heard.  Not a chair creaking, not a page turning, not an inhale or exhale.  Everyone waited.  As for me, I would be content to leave.

We were matched in height.  He might be a bit more muscular, but I could defend myself and I was fast.  I watched him calculate all of the possibilities before he spoke.  We both knew that losing his credibility was first and foremost on his mind.  I decided that I’d stated my position plainly and had nothing more to say.  Let the bastard sweat.

He widened his stance and crossed his arms across his chest, almost a mirrored image of myself.  I told you.  Not an original thought, even in passing.

“
Pierce, you are no Master on any level.  I’m not completely sure that you’re not a mole sent in from a local news station or tabloid publication.  For the sake of protecting the anonymity of those present and diminishing the sensationalism of anything you may choose to publish, I demand that you leave and never return.  Your costs will not be refunded.”

Now was as good a time as any to get the hell out.  I realized that to many people present, the nonrefundable tuition would have been a hardship.  If that was the worst he could do to me, the whole regrettable incident took just under two hours and I was now a free man.

I left the stage and never stopped walking until I was in my car with the doors locked.

I was home within an hour and making love to my wife within two.  Afterwards, I retold the entire incident while I held her in my arms and then she made love to me.  Who needed to train a Submissive?  Ayla was training me just fine and I was loving every minute of it.

I don’t know why I was amazed.  Again.  Melody and Ayla managed to organize the first wedding in six weeks, I can’t understand why I was surprised that they managed to do it again.  If I were to hazard a guess, I imagine it had something to do with the difference in weddings and the rapidly expanding Dorothy.

It felt like she’d doubled in size in a month.  The baby was due in about three weeks, but something had changed.  Something in the way she carried him felt different.  It wasn’t until my folks came to the city to spend a few days with us before the wedding that an explanation came into play.

My mother took one look at her, beamed and hugged her tightly.  Deacon watched the two women and a look of consternation crossed his face.

“
Mom?  What is it?”

My mother moved her hand over Dorothy’s abdomen until it came to rest slightly under her rounded form.

“
He’s dropped.”

Deacon looked thoroughly befuddled.

“
Who’s dropped?”

My mother rolled her eyes before she closed them and shook her head.

“
Brian.  The baby.  Your son.  He’s dropped into position Deacon.  It’ll be any time now.”

Deacon began shaking his head adamantly, his eyes growing huge.  It was an interesting look and I liked it on him.  I’d never seen my brother terrified before.  The Lone Wolf with his tail tucked in, pissing himself over something his mother said.

“
He’s not due for three weeks.  He can’t come any time.  He’ll come in three weeks like he’s supposed to.”

My mother began patting his hand, trying to soothe his ruffled nerves.

“
Son, relax.  First babies often come early or late.  They keep their own schedules and have no regard for yours.  Believe me, it’ll be fine.”

“
It won’t be fine!  He needs those three weeks to form things!”

Dorothy looked at him and wrinkled her brow.

“
What things?”

He threw his hands up and began to pace.

“
Things!  I don’t know... fingernails or hair!  Maybe teeth?  Eyelashes?  Things!”

My mother and I exchanged a look, silently willing one another not to laugh.  Neither of us spoke or that bond would be broken.  Dorothy was made of sterner stuff than either of us.

“
Teeth?  Sweetheart, babies aren’t born with teeth and a lot of babies aren’t born with hair.  Everything will grow in time.  You’ll see.  He’s got all of the important stuff.  If he’s ready to show, then we’ll be ready to meet him.  Calm down and relax Deacon.  We have a wedding to get through in a few days.”

Deacon stopped and scanned Dorothy head to foot.

“
What are you doing standing?  Sit DOWN woman!  Gravity is not helping our condition!  Do you want him to come early?  Do you want him to fall out?”

That did it.  I wrapped my arms around my mother and we huddled together in silent laughter, tears streaming down our cheeks.  I glanced up and saw Dorothy smile and put her arms around her husband, my idiot brother.

“
Deacon, he can’t fall out without our knowing about it.”

“
How do you know this?  You’ve never had one before.”

“
You’re right.  But I know that having a baby usually entails screaming, a lot of bad words, and me hurling insults at you.  Also, if babies fell out routinely, there would be a pregnant women dragging them around by the umbilical cords all the time.  Pretty sure I’ve never heard of that.  I know it wasn’t in the pamphlet the doctor gave me...”

He let out a deep breath and put his arms around Dorothy.

“
Alright, alright.  I over-reacted.  I still worry.  Neither one of us have done this before and I just want it to go well.  Know what I mean?  God Dor’, if anything happened to you...”

She kissed him on the cheek and put her head on his chest.

“
Nothing’s going to happen.  You’ve been to almost every doctor’s appointment with me Deke.  You heard her.  I’m healthy.  Brian’s healthy.  We’re ready baby.  First the wedding, then the baby.  Okay?”

“
I wish you were staying home that day Dor’.  You don’t need the stress or the excitement.”

“
I’m going to the wedding, then I’m staying for the pictures.  Afterwards, I’ll head home.  I promise.”

Fully appeased, the Wolf smiled, his tail once again wagging in contentment.

Here we were, three days later, trying to keep Anton on a short leash.  I liked the idea of another joint bachelor-slash- bachelorette party, but Anton wasn’t having it.  He said the first one was out of necessity, and this one would be done traditionally like everything else.

Traditional and Anton have never been used in the same sentence.  I’d like to bring that to everyone’s attention.

Deacon refused to attend.  He and my parents were keeping Dorothy under house arrest and she was just angry enough to plot an elaborate escape.  Obsessed doesn’t even begin to cover the way he hovered over her.

We dropped by their place in one last ditch effort to persuade him to come along and give her a break.  My folks reminded him that they’d be there if she needed anything, but he stood like the Rock of Gibraltar, refusing to leave her side.  I understood how he felt, but it didn’t make my position enviable.  Chase and Austin thought Anton was hilarious and often encouraged him to push the envelope.  I was the lone voice of sanity and I was singing in an empty hall.

I’ve reread this and I realize something.  I started out strong and I’m finding I’ve earned the nickname, “Teddy Bear”.  At least to a certain degree I’ve earned it.  Not entirely though, because my story isn’t finished.  The problem is, this next part is still a bit blurry.

Money buys privilege.  The more money you have, the more privileges you enjoy.  If that sounds upper class elitist, that’s because it is.  It’s also true.  You may not like hearing that, but it doesn’t make it any less true.  Thank fuck for that, I might add, or Anton never would have made it to his wedding and the next part of the story would have contained his eulogy.  You see, Melody Lincoln has money too.  His death could easily have been made to look accidental and after the stunt he pulled, nobody would have refuted whatever story she would have offered up.

We left their condo, the Three Musketeers, me as the driver, and I was driving blind.  Anton had programmed the destination into the GPS without giving me the name of the establishment.  That should have been my first clue that we were wading into troubled waters.

When we pulled into Brooklyn, my radar engaged.  When we stopped in front of The Cheeky Monkey, a false sense of security settled in.  We were at Austin’s bar.  What could go wrong?  Right?

First clue?  The bar was closed.  Or appeared closed anyway.  It was dimly lit and the “Closed” sign was displayed prominently on the door.  That deterred no one.  Austin hopped out, keys jangling, a carefree look plastered on his face.  Chase followed with Anton close behind.  I locked up the car and brought up the rear.

I clung to the fraying threads of hope.  Perhaps the four of us would turn up the jukebox and open the bar after locking the door.  Yes.  That had to be it.  We’d discuss the past year or so and all the trouble and strife we’d survived, then toast Anton’s nuptials.  We might get a bit shit-faced, but what harm could we do?  We were an island unto ourselves.  Just the four of us and a cheeky monkey.

Hey.  A man can dream.

In my own defense, I never knew there was such a thing as cinnamon whiskey.  Now I understand why it’s called, “Fireball”.  It tastes like those little cinnamon candies, but it packs a punch.  Also, never mix said Fireball with Jaeger, beer, or anything resembling clear liquor.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The minute Austin unlocked the door, we scurried inside like rats into a candy shop and Austin locked the door behind us.  One of his regular bartenders was behind the bar and three waitresses were meandering through the crowd.  Yes, I said crowd.

The lights were dim, but the bar was crowded.  I think everyone Anton knew in this and in previous lives were there, and yelled a greeting when he entered.  I scanned the room and saw several problems.  I’m pretty sure that I was the only one who saw the train barreling down on us, because if anyone else saw it, they gave no signs of distress.

A waitress met us at the door with a tray containing four shots of amber-reddish liquid.  My companions each took a shot and I followed suit, trying to remember not to be a “stuffed shirt”.  I’d survived two other bachelor parties and I was certain I could survive this one.

I downed the shot and thought, “yum”, just before I screamed, “Holy Shit!” and grabbed for a glass of water that was conveniently placed on the bar near me.  I downed it as quickly as I’d downed the shot.

Anton grinned at me knowingly and I couldn’t stop blinking, trying in vain to control the water that was gathering in my eyes.

“
Fireball little brother.  A few of those and you’ll be a proper Sloan.”

“
What?  A Sloan with a knocked-up wife and a deathwish?  Or a Sloan with a woman I have to attach a tracking device to?”

Anton was not amused, but he ignored the slight and handed me another shot.  Like a fool, I downed it too.  Then the music started.

It’s not my favorite genre of music, but I know Rock.  Ayla likes Rock and I’ve grown accustomed to heavy guitar and bass.  This was different.  It was vaguely familiar, but someone else had bought a round of drinks and I’d downed something clear that tasted like a flavored vodka.  Hoping to stall off a rapidly approaching decline, I ordered a beer and bought myself some time.  The music seemed to be getting louder as I approached the smaller room to the side.  The room where the stage was.

The man of honor, or should I say the idiot of the hour, was seated at a bar table with Austin and Chase.  They’d saved me a seat and I wove my way through the whistling throng until I found myself at their table, very near the stage.  The stage where Liza, Anton’s ex-something, was slowly taking her clothes off to the music.  If we were anywhere else, this would not be surprising.  She is, after all, a stripper.  And if you’ve ever seen her perform, you’d know it was indeed her calling.  However, we weren’t anywhere else.  We were at Austin’s bar.  And although I was mildly inebriated, I still had the presence of mind to process the thought that he didn’t have a license for this type of entertainment.  Even if he did, I was fairly certain the area wasn’t zoned for it.

Yeah, that’s me.  Mr. Level Headed.

Just as I was about to lay this small problem at the feet of the man it belonged to, another round of shots came our way.  The liquid was dark and smelled of licorice.  The other three held up their shot glasses and raised their eyebrows at me.  I knew a dare when I saw one.  Alright then.  Throwing caution to the wind, I clinked glasses and downed this one as well.

This is where the facts start to blur together.

Liza gave way to Sandra, who led to Sheila.  Clarice came next and then she was upstaged by someone doing some kind of dance that involved feathers and a Meatloaf song.  I didn’t know and honestly didn’t care.  I couldn’t feel my tongue and I was more concerned with what that might mean neurologically.  This sensation was new to me.

All things lead to paranoia when you’re a drunk control freak.  That’s why I never get drunk.  I’m always the driver.  Except I wasn’t driving anywhere.  I understood this, because if I couldn’t feel my tongue, what would come next?  My legs?  Could I go blind?  What if I forgot my own name or address?  Yes, these were the roads my imagination traveled after one drink too many.  The questions were endless with no answers in sight.

What I do remember is this:  After every dance, the girls congregated at our table to talk-slash-grope-slash-half heartedly congratulate Anton, who was eating up their attention with a spoon.  Did I mention that none of them thought to put on clothing?

Since the door was locked, there was little chance that Melody would come charging in to find her fiance getting a lap dance by a naked woman.  When a beautiful woman with red hair came slinking up to me, I distinctly remember raising both my index fingers and making the shape of a cross while shouting, “Back you devil woman!  Back I say!”  I’m sure it got worse, but thankfully, the question part of the program is shadowed in my memory.

I do remember Anton taking his shirt off, quickly followed by half the men in the bar.  Then, they proceeded to start dancing with the naked siren strippers.  I’m sure I resembled that kid in that Christmas movie that spends half of his screen time face palming.  By this time, the numbness had spread to my nose and I thought about calling an ambulance before it spread to my brain.

All of this might have gone unnoticed by the public at large, except the music had gotten progressively louder.  That, and someone had unlocked the door so that they could leave.  No one else thought to secure the lock once that someone had left.