Chapter 7
PIERCE
“What are you going to do about it, you little shit?”
I wake in a cold sweat, thrashing against my inner demons, tangled in the sheets as I fight the invisible memories of my father. My heart is hammering in my chest, my pulse racing as a spike of adrenaline courses through every cell in my body.
“Fuck.” I fell into bed tonight after a long day at the hospital. It wasn’t that I had challenging surgeries, but sometimes a case comes in that hits a little close to home. An emergency patient landed in my operating room today—she’d been beaten to within an inch of her life, her body covered in defensive wounds. She had blunt-force trauma to the head and suffered a brain bleed. It was touch and go for a while, but my team and I managed to save her life.
The police were eager to get a statement, having taken her asshole husband into custody. He was found at the scene just before finishing the job. Thankfully, a neighbor heard the commotion and called 911. Another five minutes and she’d have died in the ambulance.
Domestic violence cases always burrow their way under my skin, but it’s been a while since I’ve taken it this hard. It took me decades to get past frequent nightmares as a kid. My mom never really acknowledged the fact that I rarely had a night of uninterrupted sleep. She was too busy drinking to curb her nightmares.
I know I’m not going to get any more meaningful sleep tonight, needing an outlet for the adrenaline, my muscles vibrating with the necessity to move. When I look at the clock, I pull in a deep, steadying breath. It’s two a.m. This is the reason I put a home gym in my apartment. It helps when my body is fighting against the memories of my four-year-old self.
Shrugging into a pair of gray sweats, I pad down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water before heading for the gym. I’m hoping thirty minutes on the rowing machine might tire me out, but I won’t hold my breath.
My dream plays on a loop—the last memory of my father. He wasn’t the only one who died that day. Something in my mother broke beyond repair. Looking back, I think I believed that once my dad was gone, my mom and I would have a better life. How fucked up is that? To think as a fucking child that life without my dad was going to be a nicer experience.
No matter how much I push myself, my mind can’t shut off. The sound of bone cracking as my mom hit him over the head. The way my tiny body ached, like an agonizing pulse ran through every muscle. Then it all went black, and that was the last time the mother I knew held me in her arms.
I think she resented me for forcing her hand. She loved my father, even when he hurt us. It was impossible for her to walk away, but in the end, she knew she had to protect me. That doesn’t mean she didn’t hate me a little for being the reason she took a life—the life of the man she loved.
When I’m dripping with sweat, my hair plastered to my forehead, I give up trying to tire myself out and decide to take a shower.
As I wander through my apartment, I stop at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, watching the city that never sleeps, wondering where my masked submissive is and who she is. She’ll be sound asleep somewhere, alone in her bed, her face uncovered .
Once I’ve settled on the couch, I pull up the Venom portal on my phone and look over her completed profile. I can’t wait to get her back in the playroom. There is so much I want to teach her and so many scenarios to explore. I click the message icon in the portal and type out a quick text. I don’t want to disturb her by texting her phone. She’ll see a Venom message in the morning.
Me: Hi, little one. I can’t wait to get you in my private room this week. Now that I know what you do and don’t want to try, we can really have some fun. I couldn’t sleep, and I’m thinking of you. Talk later. Your Dom.
Within minutes, my phone rings. It’s her.
“Hello, little one. I wasn’t expecting you to be awake. Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“I’m wide awake. Why aren’t you asleep, Sir?”
I consider my answer, not wanting to show any sign of weakness. “I’m a night owl, always working.”
“Me too.”
“Good to know. Maybe the next time we can’t sleep, we can spend some time at the club. I have a bed that’s meant for anything but sleep.”
“I remember it well. The last time I saw it, I had your…” She hesitates.
“My dick in your mouth. You can say it, little one.”
“I’m shy when it comes to stuff like this. That sounds ridiculous, considering I don’t know your name, and I’m talking about giving you a blow job.” There’s something so sweet in her admission.
“I like that you’re shy. Although, you didn’t seem so bashful when I had my head between your legs and a group of people on the other side of a mirror watching you.”
“I’m so embarrassed.” I can just imagine her cheeks blushing and wonder what her face looks like without that mask.
“Don’t be. Everyone has a kink or two. Some of us just have more than others. ”
“Do you really believe everyone has a kink? Maybe some people are basic vanilla.”
“You’re not.”
“No, I’m not, and I don’t know how to feel about it.” I hate that she’s torn between meeting society’s idea of ‘normal’ and choosing what makes her happy.
“Well, how did you feel that night? Letting a veritable stranger kiss you there.”
“I loved it. I don’t know how to explain it. I know I shouldn’t want to do stuff like that, but…”
“Who says you’re not allowed to want kink?”
“People.” Her voice becomes small.
“Boyfriends?” The thought makes my jaw tense. How any man could deny her whatever she wants is beyond me. One fool’s error is my gain.
“Yes.” The line goes quiet.
“Current or ex?” I didn’t think to ask when we first met. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know the answer, but just to be on the safe side.
“Ex. I’m not seeing anyone. I haven’t in a long time.”
“I am glad I’m not stealing you from another man. Don’t get me wrong, I still fucking would, but I’ll sleep easier knowing you’re mine.”
I hear her breath catch, and it’s so goddamn satisfying.
“Is that what I am now that I’ve signed the contract? I’m yours.”
“Yes, little one. You’re mine now.”
“Feminists are spinning in their graves right now,” she says with a nervous giggle.
“Does it bother you?”
“No, but I feel like it should. Women have fought tooth and nail to have the same rights as men. To be independent. And here I am wanting to hand over my autonomy to a man I don’t even know. It seems wrong, yet I want to submit to you with every fiber of my being. What does that say about me?”
“It tells me you are truly an independent, powerful woman.”
“Really? ”
“Submission isn’t about giving away part of yourself, little one. You’ll come to learn that it takes strength to ask for what you want and be confident with it. As a submissive, you have complete control when you’re in my private room.”
“Other people won’t see it that way.”
“Who gives a fuck what anyone else thinks? All that matters is how you feel about it. If you don’t enjoy your training, at least you’ll walk away from this experience knowing you were brave enough to explore your sexuality. Do you have any idea how many women crave what you’re asking of me but are too scared to try? When I read through your paperwork, I was so fucking proud of you, little one.”
“Proud… of me?”
“Yes. You’re mine now, and if I teach you nothing else in the next six months, I will teach you to be confident in your sexual desires.”
“I want that. With you.”
“Do you understand I will need to know what you look like at some point? That I want to know whose name to fucking growl when I come inside you.”
She doesn’t say anything for the longest time, and I wonder if I went too far.
“Yes, Sir. I just feel like my anonymity makes asking for what I want a little easier.”
“I understand, but when I deem it to be the right time in your training, I expect you to comply.”
“I will do my best, Sir.”
“Good girl. I appreciate your honesty. Never promise anything you feel you may not be able to fulfill.”
“Sir, why do you want to train me? Why reach out to me in the middle of the night?”
“I want to train you because I see your potential. You will be a breathtaking submissive, little one. I’ve taught enough women to know. I didn’t even need to see your face to be completely in awe of your beauty at the masquerade. As for contacting you at this hour, I enjoy our chats. Is it so difficult to believe that I could be attracted to more than your body?”
“Yes.” Her response cuts like a knife.
“Who hurt you, little one?” I clench my jaw as my body stiffens.
“How do you know that?”
“Because a woman like you doesn’t have such a lack of self-awareness in your sexuality and sensuality unless someone has told you it’s wrong.”
“I shouldn’t let it get to me. I hate that it still affects me years later.”
“Never berate yourself for how you feel. There is no set way to deal with your emotions.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For understanding me in a way no one else does.” My heart grinds to a halt, knowing how difficult it is to exist in a world where it feels as if no one understands you. Until I found the lifestyle, I was truly alone. It’s a hard place to be.
“We’ve only scratched the surface. I want to know everything about you, little one.”
“Difficult when you don’t know my name.”
“I plan to remedy that as soon as possible. Tell me something, anything about you.”
She considers my request for a moment. “I like to help people.”
“Go on…”
“My favorite color is pink. A cliché, I know, but I’m a girly girl. What’s your favorite color?”
“I recently became fond of lavender.”
“Smooth talker.”
“I try my best.”
“Do you have any hobbies?” I wasn’t expecting her to show interest in my personal life.
“I enjoy painting, though I don’t have much time for it these days. Work takes up ninety percent of my time, and the other ten I plan to spend lost in you. ”
“My job is demanding too. It’s hard to have a social life. I find that friends don’t understand, so they stop asking me to hang out.”
“Their loss.”
“What about you? Do you have time for friends?”
“All of my friends frequent Venom, so I see them as often as work allows. Anyway, let’s get back to you. What do you do for a living?”
She hesitates, deciding how much to share with me.
“Too personal.”
“You’re a funny little thing. I plan to make every last one of your sexual fantasies come to life, and yet your career choice is too personal?”
“I’m scared.” I can just imagine her chewing on her sumptuous bottom lip.
“Of what?”
“That I won’t be able to go through with this if I know too much. Or if you know too much about me. I’ve been judged for not being normal in the past.”
“You don’t have to explain your reasons, little one. We’ll go slow, and when I think you’re ready, we can learn more about each other.”
She heaves an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sir. Did you see my updates on the calendar?”
“I’m looking at it now. We both have Sunday night free. Be in my room at seven sharp.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You better go to sleep now, little one, because you won’t be getting any sleep on Sunday.” A thrill rips through me, the anticipation of sinking my dick into her wet cunt too much to take.
“Goodnight, Sir.”
“Goodnight, my little one.” I hang up, the silence of my apartment suddenly so acute.
I’ve always relished living alone after so many years in group homes after my mom passed, but on nights like this, when shadows of my past rear their ugly head, I wonder if it might be nice to have someone to share my space .
Going back to bed, I imagine what it would feel like to have my little one here with me. I never bring submissives I’m training to my home, but I know without a doubt I want to have this woman in my bed. It’s fucking crazy because I know next to nothing about her.
This week has been like wading through molasses. I’m sleep deprived—the nightmares happening like clockwork. It’s the same every night. I wake up around two a.m. in a cold sweat and workout until I’m so tired my body gives in and lets me sleep for a few hours before I have to get up for work.
There are two things that have been getting me through this week. Knowing that I’ll have my little one ready and waiting in my private room tonight, and one of my residents who shows real promise. Perrington is my new protégé, and they are few and far between in neurosurgery. The dexterity needed for microsurgery isn’t something that all surgeons possess.
I was the last person at this hospital who excelled in the field, so I’m enthused to be the one to nurture someone else’s talent. I love to teach, as evidenced by my extracurricular activities.
“Dr. Harrison.”
Speak of the devil.
“Dr. Perrington. Great work today. You were a valuable asset in the operating room.” It’s rare that I hand out compliments, as evidenced by the shocked look on Perrington’s face.
“Thank you. It’s an honor to assist you.”
“Have you declared a specialty yet?”
“No, but I’ve narrowed it down.”
“I hope neuro is on the shortlist. You’ve got amazing hands.”
“It’s at the top of my list.”
“Excellent. I’m going to have you put on my service.”
“Thank you, Dr. Harrison. Shall I read up on your upcoming cases?”
“Yes, and my current ones. You’ll be with me as of tomorrow.”
“Consider it done. ”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Perrington.” Without another word, I head for the locker room for a quick shower. I have a playroom to set up.
When I reach the club, Flex and Ryder are propping up the bar, a woman sitting in each of their laps.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
“What have you done with the real Pierce? He’s six foot four and grumpy. I don’t understand this expression on your face.” Flex thinks he’s a stand-up comedian.
“Witness the shit-eating grin, boys. I have a delicious new sub to teach and a great resident at work to impart my wisdom on.”
They exchange glances before Ryder interjects. “Oh, fuck. He’s going to be insufferable. Do we need to widen the door to your private room to accommodate your ever-growing ego?”
“Possibly, but when you have the goods to back it up, it’s called confidence.”
I signal Eli for a drink. I have a little time before I get the room organized.
Taking a seat, Flex and Ryder’s lady friends excuse themselves, leaving us to shoot the shit for a while.
“Dalton coming in tonight?”
“Are you kidding? He’s going to need a snorkel if he doesn’t come up for air sometime soon. He and Nad are at it twenty-four seven. I have no earthly idea how they hold down jobs. We shouldn’t have built him a suite of rooms upstairs.”
Flex sounds a little jealous that his best friend is occupied with his wife.
“Speaking of the expansion, have you started on the training floor yet?”
“Should be up and running in two months. We’ll throw another party and have you and Logan do some demonstrations if you’re cool with that?”
Logan is a Master Dominant like me, except he gave up training years ago when he met his wife, leaving me with his share of subs to train. It’s hard work, but someone’s got to do it. Usually, I’d be happy at the thought, but for the first time, I don’t want to think about moving on to the next trainee. I’ve barely begun with my little one, and yet I get this weird, uncomfortable constriction in my chest at the thought of handing her over to another Dom.
“What’s got you looking like that?” Flex interrupts my disturbing daydream—more like a nightmare.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re chewing a bee.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” The minute Eli sets my drink down on the bar, I drain it in one gulp. “I just have some prep to get done. I’ll be back.”
My little one is bringing the signed paperwork with her tonight, and it has my pulse racing as I step into my private room. The second we get that out of the way, I’ll start with lesson one—patience. I plan to kiss every last inch of her body tonight before sinking balls deep in that pretty little cunt of hers.
Running my fingers over the cuffs attached to the St. Andrew’s cross, my dick twitches, getting hard knowing she’ll be naked and splayed open for me on this in an hour. She’s going to look so fucking perfect.
I set the new lingerie I bought for her on the bed with a matching white lace mask. She still wants to shield her identity, and I’ll indulge her for now. It’s hot, but I’m a greedy man, and I want her complete submission. She has two months before I insist on knowing her name and seeing her face. If she still evades me, I’ll be forced to terminate our contract.
When everything is laid out just the way I like it, I head back out to the bar with my mask tucked into the back pocket of my jeans. Flex is nowhere to be found, but Ryder is still chatting with Eli, no sign of the woman who was in his lap before I left.
“Can I grab another drink, Eli?”
“Coming up.”
I take a seat next to Ryder. “How’s the new sub working out?” he asks before sipping his drink .
“She becomes my submissive tonight.”
“What? You haven’t signed the paperwork already? The Pierce I know would never lay a finger on a sub without a signature.”
I consider his statement, and it sits uneasy in my chest. I’ve broken my own rules with this woman, and I don’t even know her name.
If I don’t get myself in check, I’m so screwed.