Unbound (The Dominator #3)

Chapter 9

9

Dare and I were walking on the beach. I wasn’t wired, so we had a minute alone. My other bathing suits were bugged, but I was wearing my one non-bugged bikini for this walk, per Dare’s directions on which one he wanted me to wear.

I was still pushing away my emotions about being here, of course, but it felt good, it was kind of fortifying, to take a minute out of being at Kruna to come back to the only part of the place that only had associations of Dare.

When we met, he brought me here, swam with me in his arms, on his back, built a sandcastle to occupy us and keep us away from the resort.

I felt almost euphoric walking down the beach with him today and I gave him a beaming smile to show it. I think he read my mind because he smiled back, then pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately.

When his lips broke away, he undid my sarong and dropped it on the beach. I looked down at it, and then was scooped off my feet. He lifted me by my thighs and wrapped my legs around his waist, walking into the water with me in his arms, a look of pure lust on his face.

I knew he’d taken me to the beach on purpose. I’d told him back at home how great our walks on the beach here were for me.

Home.

I had a home. I had a home and family and a life. I had a husband who listened and gave me everything he could give me. More than I could ever dream of. I had friends. I met a girl named Shauna at my art classes that I’d gone for coffee with a few times. I’d gotten friendly with some of our neighbors in our building. I’d become close with my new sister-in-law, Tia. We had a lot in common and we hung out regularly. I liked Dare’s sisters, too. And Lisa. She didn’t trigger me. She bolstered my strength since she’d come back from her retreat. It was as if she was less broken.

I wanted to get back there, get back to our life, our loved ones. We’d be home for Christmas. We would find a tree for the apartment.

I wanted a real one. I also wanted to give that to Holly. Home, family, friends, me. I wanted her to know I was okay. Holly’s birthday was the day after Christmas. Was it possible that she would have a happy birthday, wherever she was?

I made my thought process halt and redirected it away from Holly. I couldn’t think about Holly while I was at Kruna.

We weren’t all that far from the resort, the people sitting on the patio could likely see us as they had a good view of the stretch of beach inside the gated property.

“I love you,” he said into my ear.

I wrapped my arms tighter around him and then we were submerged to his chest.

“I love you, too.”

“Good to see a smile. Haven’t seen one in days.”

“This beach makes me smile. It’s our spot.”

He went a few more paces so that I was covered by the water and then his mouth moved to my breast. He sucked on the flesh through my black bathing suit top.

“Dare,” I breathed.

“Things are gonna be kinda 1950s vanilla in our suite in case they’re watching and because others are listening. Under the blankets, lights off. No one sees your beautiful body but me and you can’t talk your sweet, sexy, dirty talk, babe. But we have to keep fucking or if Kruna’s watching, they’ll get suspicious. This, here, this is a bit of a show, too, in case there are eyes on us. You okay with that?”

“I’m always okay when I’m with you, Master,” I replied, arching my back and tightening my legs, “You could fuck me right in front of them if you wanted to and I’d only see you.”

He slipped his hand underneath me and freed his cock from his trunks and then yanked the gusset of my bikini bottoms sideways so that he could get to me.

“Likeminded. That’s what I have to look like,” he whispered, “So, if I have to do anything or say anything, you know. You know who I really am. Only you, Angel. You and me against them.”

“I know.” I kissed his soft lips and had handfuls of his hair.

“Baby,” he moaned as he moved inside me.

“Oh yeah, baby,” I breathed.

“This make you feel better about bein’ in the water?”

“I could live in the water if I’m here with you,” I whispered. “I wanted this so badly last time we were here.”

“So did I,” he admitted. “I fought those feelings, but it didn’t take long before my resolve melted. I was powerless against you.”

“Thank God for that bottle of vodka and zero self-control,” I whispered against his earlobe, smiled and gripped him tighter with my arms and with my inner walls.

“Thank God,” he agreed and his grip on my hips tightened.

He’d credited the vodka and no control the day after we’d had sex that first time.

That was also his toast when we got married, in front of everyone. He thanked God for the gift of me and said he had to give a bit of credit to a big bottle of vodka and zero self-control.

He finished inside me and I immediately wondered if he’d gotten me pregnant. I might actually be ovulating today. The idea of conceiving a baby here at Kruna had screwed with my head and so I hadn’t said anything to him about it because I didn’t want to think about the possibility we could make a baby here at Kruna.

If I did get pregnant, it wouldn’t matter where but it might be kind of nice if it was here in the water instead of in that building. If I got pregnant this cycle, I’d think of this very moment as the moment of conception. Here, at our beach.

We hung out for a while and then walked back along the beach to our room and got some smirks from Mr. Lucas from the patio. He’d definitely seen what we’d been up to.

We were dressed for dinner and we were meeting in the small partner dining room, the same room we’d sat in the last time we were here for that formal dinner. At the table were Mr. Lucas and Mr. Delgado and there were slaves at their feet.

Neither of the two men owned the slave that was at their feet, but Delgado practically lived here and Mr. Lucas had Kruna assets at home.

It was beyond strange to sit at the table, at eye-level with them. I’d knelt through dozens of meals in this room on my sapphire blue pillow.

“Serve Mrs. Ferrano as well, Mr. Ferrano?” the server asked.

“Yes,” Dare had said. “Always. Please pass that along so I won’t have to keep repeating myself. She’s to be treated by everyone here with the same respect as I am treated.”

“Absolutely.”

No one batted an eye at that, or the impatient way he delivered it.

When the server left, Mr. Delgado muttered, “Only one to treat your wife differently is you, am I right?”

“You know it,” Dare said, putting my napkin across my lap without revealing anything, but his eyes did meet mine for a beat and they flashed with what anyone would’ve thought was lust and promise. I gave him a small coy smile and batted my eyelashes.

Mr. Lucas cleared his throat and snickered, “Getting hot in here or is it just me?” He petted the head of his assigned slave and she obediently stayed in position.

“It’s quite hot in here,” Mr. Chen said, arriving at that moment, taking in the room and the people in it with a sly grin on his face.

We’d gotten through soup, salad, and halfway through our main course of surf and turf (which wasn’t being adequately shared with the slaves, of course). Mr. Chen was talking to Dare like he was an old friend. Dare would seem, to most observers, that he was behaving the same way, but even though we had only been together a few months, I could see that he was pretending. It was all on the surface.

His eyes were stone cold even when he was smiling or laughing at a joke. I’d seen him really smile, really laugh. This smiling was very different from that. These people would never get to see that side, the real side, of Dario Ferrano. My Dario.

My Dare made jokes, he teased the people he loved, he loved a heated debate on a hot topic, he was competitive in a fun and teasing way, and although he could be super angry and broody, he definitely was what Tia had confided in me she’d thought of as “angry-hot” from when she’d first met Dare.

Mr. Chen didn’t have a slave at his feet for the meal. At Mr. Delgado’s feet was a slave I’d never seen before. She was blonde, pixie pretty, tiny and perfectly obedient, getting hand-fed from his plate. Maybe she was my replacement.

I didn’t allow myself to dwell on that. I couldn’t or else I’d show emotion that I couldn’t afford to reveal. I had to continue to show the Kruna powers-that-be that they’d made the right decision in choosing me for Dare. If I didn’t, it’d put him in danger. And he needed to be seen by the leadership team to be completely suitable for that role.

The girl at Mr. Lucas’s feet was someone I was familiar with. Her name was Lulu. We weren’t really friends; most people avoided me to stay off Cleo’s bad side. Lulu and Truly were tight. She had been around longer than I had.

The meal moved at a snail’s pace, so I just did what I was supposed to do. I was dressed in a flowy ivory sundress with straps over my shoulders and crisscrossed on my back. It had some cleavage but not too much. I had on my three-strand necklace, my wedding rings, and my hair had been flat ironed straight, with an iron we bought for this trip. I hadn’t been flat ironing. Dare liked it curly. Dare and I had thrown my old iron down the garbage chute at home and I’d hated buying a new one. But my hair style definitely helped me blend in, seem like I used to seem – part of the furniture around here.

When the meal was over, Mr. Chen suggested that they move to a room for brandy and cigars. When we entered the Townsend room, I wanted to alert Dare that the Townsend room wasn’t a safe zone. It was often used for play, but I didn’t get a chance to find a way to subtly communicate that to him before we were inside.

Dare held my hand and the other slaves followed behind their sirs, their eyes downcast. I guess it was muscle memory or something because my eyes automatically went down to the carpet and I stared at my toes as we walked.

The Townsend room was a large library-like room done in dark woods with big burgundy and brown tufted leather club chairs as well as dark side tables with crystal lamps.

There was a semi-circle leather bar in the corner of the room that was manned by a server who would serve from selections of cigars or pipe tobacco with an assortment of fancy pipes. The server would also bring brandy, cognac, espresso, or fetch you some other drink.

Each time I had been in this room had been to serve. Each time I’d been in this room I’d been on the rug.

The men sat in an area with just four chairs so the two slaves moved to their feet and knelt.

Dare stopped and looked around. There were other chairs on the far end of the room.

Like nothing fazed him, he sat and pulled me onto his lap. He was cool and collected, but his eyes exuded no warmth whatsoever. I knew he would go to great lengths to avoid me sitting or kneeling on the floor like a slave and I loved him for it, but I’d have knelt on broken glass for Dario Ferrano without complaint.

They sat and talked like captains of industry for what felt like forever. Me on Dare’s lap, two slaves on the floor. He was on his third drink, maybe his fourth, when Mr. Chen brought up the topic of Cleo.

“I understand Cleo has been misbehaving,” Mr. Chen said.

A tiny, dark-skinned African slave named Naomi entered the room and got to her knees at Mr. Chen’s feet. He reached for and pulled down his zipper while he gestured toward himself and kept talking, touching her mouth with his pinky finger. We all knew his gestures. He wanted her to give him head and he wasn’t going to have to ask for it. Naomi moved in, knowing what Mr. Chen wanted.

Dare didn’t flinch visibly but I felt him tense ever so slightly under me.

“She’s acting like my wife’s still under her. She’s not taken Ruiz’s warnings, nor mine. I saw her skulking around, trying to intimidate my wife earlier, thinking I couldn’t see what she was doin’.”

“I’ve had a word and had Cleo sent to a punishment room. She’s there until you’ve made a decision about what’s to be done.”

“What are the options?” Dare asked, with interest, which surprised me, but I didn’t allow it to show.

Dare stroked my hair and touched his lips to my head. I snuggled in.

Naomi now had Mr. Chen’s cock deep in her mouth and her head was bobbing.

Dare’s eyes moved briefly down and then back up to Mr. Chen’s eye level. He gestured to the server to pour him another drink.

“Whatever you want. You can punish her yourself, order her punished, give your Felicia the green light to punish her. It’s up to you. Having Felicia do it might bring about the best results.

I felt myself jolt. I hadn’t meant to do that.

“Would you like that, my baby?” Dare murmured into my ear.

“Whatever pleases you, Master,” I whispered.

“We’ll see.”

“Less teeth, Naomi,” said Mr. Chen.

“Sorry, Sir,” Naomi said, demurely, as demurely as one could expect, considering she had his cock in her hand.

Dare cupped my chin and brought my mouth to his for a brief kiss.

“As a patron and even more so, as a partner, Cleo is yours to command, as are all the Kruna assets. Make use of any of the assets any way you please, Dario,” Mr. Chen’s head rolled back and he seemed to really be getting into what Naomi was doing.

He was more than partial to getting public blowjobs but that was just his primer in this room. He was a man of habit and whenever in the Townsend room, he would get a warm-up. I was concerned about the fact that this was how it’d started in here. This confirmed that it was what everyone, besides Dare, was here for. Play time. Would Dare be able to get us out before it got even more sordid?

Sometimes these guys would lay bets about who’d come first, offering rewards to slaves who either held them out the longest or who got them off the fastest. I’d been on my knees in this room while they tried to carry on meetings pretending as if they weren’t getting head. They never got tired of their games.

“I don’t know about you fellas but I’m in the mood for some visual candy,” Mr. Lucas said, getting to his feet and moving to the bar to fetch a cigar from the opened wooden box. “Cigar, anyone?”

He leaned in to the server and said something low and the server picked up the cordless phone behind the bar.

“Me,” Dare said.

I had to fight my reaction, which would’ve been to scrunch up my nose. He’d been fighting his addiction to smoking and while he’d stopped smoking when we were at his sister’s cabin, I knew that he was having to fight hard to keep those cravings at bay with all the stress we’d been under lately.

I knew he’d been stressed the last few weeks. I had the feeling he was even more stressed than he was allowing me to see.

I watched him light it, and ignored the urge to move away from the smoke. He looked at it as he blew out the smoke, as if he was impressed with the flavor.

The door opened and three more slaves entered, wearing lingerie. I knew all three of them. They did a fairly good job of masking their jealousy at seeing me, but I saw a spark of envy in at least the eyes of two of them at me on the lap of my master.

Though I would never have shown it, I’d also have been jealous if I were in their position seeing me back here briefly for the annual partner summit, knowing I’d get to go, leave with the handsome, tall, blond model-looking man who wouldn’t let me be treated like a slave publicly.

Mr. Lucas leaned over and whispered something to the three girls. That was another thing about him. Beyond stamina, he liked to tell us what he wanted to see. He could’ve been a porn director. He liked to watch. A lot. I’d regularly been instructed on role playing for shows for Mr. Lucas. Sometimes those shows were in front of others and sometimes they were just for him.

Dare hadn’t been paying much attention to what Naomi was doing to Mr. Chen, other than my feeling his muscles tighten slightly for a brief second, but I felt something else coming off him at the scene unfolding in front of us.

Three girls. A blonde, brunette, and the redhead Truly, that we’d seen earlier; the one who could’ve been chosen rather than me for him.

I knew this upcoming scene and I knew it well, having been the redhead in this exact scene more than once. It was a favorite of Mr. Lucas’s.

The blonde began undressing the brunette, and the brunette was undressing the redhead. It was slow, sensual, and they played their parts exceptionally well. No one looked sad, scared, or broken. They all looked like they were very into the scene. Professional Kruna assets wouldn’t look broken, even if we were – unless the scene or patron called for that role.

When the brunette and redhead were completely naked, they both turned their attention to the blonde and undressed her together.

The brunette moved her mouth to the blonde’s barely there landing strip, and started to lick her way downward.

We were all waxed, typically, other than natural blondes. The Kruna handlers wanted patrons to know which blonde was ‘natural’ so left the landing strip.

The blonde moved to her back on the rich oriental rug and spread her legs wide. The redhead climbed up and straddled the blonde’s face. The blonde began hungrily lapping the redhead’s perfectly waxed pussy.

The brunette, currently working at eating out the blonde, was up on her knees, her legs apart. And we had a full view of the back of her.

I got damp between the legs. As awful as it sounded, I don’t think it was arousal as much as it was muscle memory. Performances required participation and you had to be wet to participate. I’d been in this room or in a similar scene so many times, my body knew what was expected.

Mr. Chen grunted as he came down Naomi’s throat and then he instructed Naomi to “Get in there and eat her ass.” Naomi moved to behind the brunette and lavishly licked her asshole, Mr. Chen’s cum was still in her mouth, and it dribbled down the back of the brunette’s leg.

Dare shifted slightly and put his cigar out in an ashtray and then he took another large mouthful of his drink.

I felt his cock beginning to come alive underneath me. I swallowed and breathed deep and then I dared to glance at him. His eyes were on the spectacle in front of us. He caught me looking and the look in his eyes was heated but bordering on angry. He couldn’t show these guys anything but being likeminded, but I suspected that right there, he was angry at himself for being aroused by what he saw.

My eyes moved to my hands, which were folded in my lap.

Fuck. Fucking motherfucking fuck. What was happening in front of me was not helping my state of mind. I’d had a lot to drink, thinking it’d get me through the evening, but it was doing me no favors. Now, I not only wanted to rip the heads off of all the men in the room but I wanted to take my cock into my hand and rub one out at what I was seeing.

I couldn’t remind myself of what these girls really were. I had to go with it so that they wouldn’t know I wasn’t on board with this. But this thing happening didn’t look like broken slaves. It was a live action four-way girl on girl porno playing out right in front of me.

And I had my beautiful wife on my lap and I knew she knew what was happening to me physically right now. I had to make a judgement call on how to handle this shit.

Gan Chen and Joseph Lucas were watching the show. Delgado’s slave was spread out on the floor in front of his crouched body, her legs wide, and he was fingering her cunt, his eyes on the show. The slave’s head was thrown back with her back arched so she could also see the show. Lucas’s slave leaned over and started to suck Delgado’s slave’s nipple.

I felt Angel’s body jerk, so I grabbed her hip out of reflex, thinking she needed steadying but she got to her feet for a second and then in a flash, she dropped her panties to the floor, kicked her shoes off, lifted her dress at the back only, so showing only me her naked ass, and then she sat back down on my lap, right against my straining cock, tucking her feet into my sides so that her knees were adjacent to my thighs. She sat on me like she was getting ready to ride a mechanical bull. My dick jumped.

She reached behind herself and without looking, slid my suit pants zipper down. I was in a hormone-driven half-drunken haze, so I just sat and watched until she got my button undone and reached for my dick blindly. She shifted forward, still sitting reverse cowgirl, her feet tucked in at my sides on either side as she slid back, sliding me inside her hot, wet heat while arranging the fabric of her dress over us. She tightened her legs around my thighs, as if preparing to hold onto me with them like she would a mechanical bull.

The length of her off-white dress covered her and covered me. She kept moving, slowly, with purpose, her hands gripping at my knees.

My hands went to her hips and I gripped, giving her stability, which she took, moving so that she got me deeper. And then she threw her hair back and I saw the eyes of the other men in the room move to her.

Fuck, when she whipped her hair it was sexy. I wanted to gauge their eyes out. My fingers tightened on her waist to the point she jolted.

My brain forgot the scene on the floor and was now on my wife’s back, on her sleek, straight hair falling all around her shoulders. She’d straightened it for Kruna, for her state of mind.

One of the girls in the tangle of bodies who wasn’t currently with her tongue in another girl leaned over and tried to connect by moving in to kiss Angel. But, before she got to her, I reached up and pulled Angel backwards flush against me and buried my face into her hair as she continued to ride me.

We were already crossing lines I didn’t want to cross. We weren’t crossing that one, too. My hand went around her throat possessively as I kept her against me.

What should’ve been a very private thing between us was happening in front of six Kruna slaves as well as three Kruna partners.

I glanced toward the floor. Two of the three girls being eaten out were orgasming together. The Black girl eating out a brunette was fingering herself and she started writhing while she was coming. The girl watching while Delgado fucked her with his fingers pulled on Delgado’s dick and he started coming, too.

Angel started to breathe heavier and ride harder. My wife was looking after me. At that thought, I closed my eyes, burying my face into the back of her neck, and focused on her, on all she was to me. I let it go. I came inside her.

She slumped back against me. I held her tight to me.

It washed over me then, that she was wired and there would be ears on that entire event. That, the fact that I’d been aroused by what was happening in that room, and by how my woman had taken care of me, it all filled me with deep remorse. She hadn’t come, only me. She’d been a Stepford wife and it was my fault.

The festivities on the floor continued and I saw that Gan Chen was now fucking one of the girls up the ass while that same girl went down on Delgado, who was miraculously hard already. I’d seen him pop pills at dinner. Probably dick pills.

“Excuse us, gentleman,” I said, and threw my wife over my shoulder like a piece of meat. She squealed. I bent into a squat to grab Angel’s shoes and panties and we left the Townsend room together and I headed, with purpose, dick away but pants still undone, back to our suite. Inside, I slammed the door and, Angel still over my shoulder, I grabbed the phone and dialed room service.

“Mr. Ferrano? What can I get you, Sir?” the answerer, a male with an Asian accent asked.

“A bottle of Brennivin, a pack of Marlboro reds and a lighter. Put a rush on that.”

I put the phone down and then set her down gently on the bed.

Her eyes were on me.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, staring at her. I had to get my shit together.

She was breathing heavily, staring back at me, her chest rising and falling. I couldn’t read her eyes.

I shook my head and put my index finger to my mouth, warning her not to say anything, and started to pace. I wanted to hit something. I couldn’t. I went to the bathroom and took a piss and then stared into the mirror at my reflection, disgusted with myself.

I heard a knock on the door. I bolted for it. Angel was still on the bed in the position I left her in. I didn’t even look at her face to get a read on what she could be feeling. I couldn’t process my own emotions, never mind begin to think about hers. She was being who she usually was; the girl who wanted to please me.

The idea that she’d think of what’d happened in there as me being unfaithful to her, to our relationship… flashed in my mind. Jesus. What kind of damage had I just inflicted on her?

Dare stormed toward the door when someone knocked on it and ripped it open so hard, I was surprised it didn’t come off the hinges.

I looked down to my hands in my lap. After he shut the door, he was pouring a drink and going out to the little balcony off our room and lighting that cigarette. It was lit before he was out the door.

We couldn’t even talk about this here in case our room was wired by Kruna. We already knew that a good portion of the clothes in the room were wired by the task force.

I went to the bathroom and shed my clothes and got into the shower.

Half way through rinsing out my conditioner, I felt him come in.

He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face into my neck. I held him tight.

His grip went tighter.

He looked into my eyes. I looked at his mouth as he mouthed, “I’m sorry.” He looked wrecked with guilt.

I shook my head and put my finger to his lips to shush him. I didn’t want him to be sorry.

His hands moved down to my hips and he winced. I looked down. Both my hips had purplish fingerprints from the Townsend room, when he’d gripped me really hard.

“Fuck.” He dropped to his knees and kissed each hip tenderly and then looked up at me, his eyes sorrow-filled.

I crooked my finger to ask him to come back up and when he did, I looked deep into his eyes and then put my lips to his and said low, but not so low he couldn’t hear and if someone else heard it, it wouldn’t be too bad.

“I love you. I love you, Master. So much. Thank you for marrying me, for getting me off the floor, off my knees, for being everything I need. I would kneel on broken glass for you, on hot coals, no hesitation. Anything for you, Dare. Absolutely anything.”

He looked at me with such love and also such pain, that it scored my heart in a way that was both painful and beautiful.

He lifted me up and put me against the tiled shower wall and brought me down onto him, sliding inside me.

And then he gave me what I can only say must’ve been his version of sexual healing. He made love to me slowly, sweetly, with painstaking attention to every inch of my body.

“I love you so much, my baby. My Angel.” He licked along my shoulder up to my earlobe and then carried me back to the bed and he went down on me, bringing me to the brink of an orgasm, then easing off.

“Beg,” he ordered.

Fuck, that was hot.

“Please,” I begged.

“Please what?” He gave me a sexy and intense expression.

“Please, Master. Please let me come.”

“You didn’t come in there,” he noted.

“No. My orgasms are only yours.”

And then a look crossed his face and I saw regret.

“You got it, Angel. Come, my baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He threw the blanket over us to cover me and sucked hard on my clit, shoving two fingers into me and hooking to hit my g-spot.

I squealed in delight, and rocked against his mouth, not even trying to be quiet.

Fuck whoever might be listening. They could listen and get off on the sound of us [you’re welcome, mofos!] or they could turn their listening devices off.

Afterwards, I was thinking, as he held me tight, looking deep into my eyes with so much emotion, that when we got some privacy, I’d try to ease his mind and just assure him that what’d happened was really no different than us fucking to porn. That’s how we’d view it. And that’s all it was. He didn’t touch anyone else; neither did I. We saw what we saw and we did what we did. End of story.

I touched his face. His expression was broody, dark, angry. I couldn’t convey my thoughts without words right now; he was too in his own head. Beating himself up, undoubtedly.

Dare got sexually aroused at a vision of a naked women orgy. What hot-blooded man wouldn’t? I got aroused by deciding, when I felt him get hard, that I would take care of him and fuck my husband in a room filled with people from my nightmare. I was convinced it was the best way to get through that.

For once, here at Kruna, I’d made my own decision about fucking someone and that decision included who I would fuck and how I’d go about doing it. So what that nine people had been there to see it happening. I was kind of in awe of how therapeutic that actually was.

The Townsend room was a play room. I’d reiterate to him, somehow, that some of the rooms would be like that. I could give him a signal going forward so that he’d know. Any room that had a surname sounding name was a play zone. Maybe we’d take a beach walk in the morning and I could tell him that.

I looked up from my place cuddled up against him and saw, despite the darkness, that his stormy, beautiful eyes were fixed on the ceiling; he was looking torn up.

Kruna, Day 2

Tommy had Tess and had taken care of some business. He was heading home with Tia, Tess, Sarah, and the kids. Leo Denarda was one less problem to worry about. One problem down; how many to go?

Kruna.

Holly.

Two big problems, but at least it was progress. And thankfully, Tommy, Tia, Tess, and our guys were breathing. Tommy said there were casualties, bad ones, but that all our men were breathing. I’d find the rest out when I got home.

I woke up before my wife. I wanted to go for a run or a swim but was not leaving her unguarded, so I’d gotten up and ordered coffee and sat out on the balcony drinking it and smoking cigarettes. The first one gave me a head rush.

The second one was like an old friend. I barely remembered smoking one last night before joining Angel in the shower. I’d been disgusted with what’d happened and I couldn’t show it. I knew she knew I was pissed, upset, regretful. But it wasn’t enough to be able to make love to her because we weren’t completely alone and that pissed me the fuck off. It also pissed me off, no sickened me, that I’d bruised her hips.

I saw her get out of bed and head into the bathroom from the balcony, so I stubbed out the cigarette and went back inside. I’d smoke at Kruna to help me with my nerves. Back home, I’d stop again.

When she came out of the bathroom, she walked straight into my arms. I put my hands on her face and brought her mouth to mine and then held her tight against me.

“Good morning,” she whispered.

“Good morning, my baby. How’d you sleep?” I ran my thumb across her cheekbone.

“Not too bad,” she said but made a face as if to tell me she slept like shit, or maybe she was making that face because she could smell and taste the smoke on me. “How ‘bout you?”

“About the same,” I said. “Coffee? Breakfast?”

“I’d love some coffee,” she said and walked her index and middle fingers up my chest and I took the cue.

“How ‘bout a walk?”

She smiled, “That sounds lovely, Master.”

I poured her a coffee from the carafe I’d already ordered in.

“We’ll take a walk and a swim, maybe, and then eat in the dining room,” I said.

She smiled without it touching her eyes. I hated the idea of being out there, too, but that’s what we needed to do to get shit done. Get info for the fucking Feds.

I pulled her bathing suit down from the hook in the bathroom where she’d hung it the day before to let it dry and passed it to her. She had several others packed but they were all wired. This one wasn’t.

We walked, hand-in-hand, along the beach and when we were far enough away, his hand tightened and then he undid my sarong and pulled me into the water until we were in it to my waist.

“Baby,” he breathed into my hair. I could feel the tension in his body.

I spoke quickly. “It’s okay. Please stop beating yourself up. It’s okay. It was just like we watched a bit of porn together. That’s all. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime, but how ‘bout on TV, instead of a live show? That’s all it was.”

He groaned a frustrated sound, but his body relaxed marginally.

“We are gonna get through this, Dare. We are. I feel it.” I ran my hands down his biceps and caught his hands.

“You bet your ass we are.” He squeezed my hands, let go, then grabbed my butt in both hands playfully.

I looked into his eyes and held his jaw in my hands.

“I love you so, so much. Last night was just a bump in the road. It might not even be our biggest bump, but we got this, okay?”

“You’re incredible,” he told me.

“Incredibly lucky, you mean.”

He smiled and we went deeper into the water.

“If we’re heading into a known play zone, I’ll give you a sign. I’ll scratch my nose, maybe. So you’re prepared. But most of the rooms that sound like surnames are play zones.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “Touch the nose piercing. But listen, take cues from me. I know you wanted to take care of me last night and I was caught off guard, but I won’t be off guard again. Let me lead. Yeah baby?”

“Okay.”

He let me go. “Gonna swim a bit. Stay here.”

I moved back to a shallower spot, sat down in the water, and watched him dive under.

We would make it through this. I felt it in the deepest part of me, the part that he’d woken back up. The part with hope. We were a team and I had him at my back, looking after me. I was going to be strong and be the same for him.

We were dressed, him in a gray suit, me in a purple swingy skirt and ruffled off-the-shoulder white peasant blouse. I was wired to eavesdrop, and we were in the dining room, having breakfast. Mr. Lucas joined us soon after. And the stuff he was saying? Some of it would definitely be good for the task force.

He and Dare started to discuss the partner summit.

“All members coming?” Dare asked.

“You said your brother couldn’t make it and he and you share a vote. There may be a vacancy coming up and we require votes to bring on new members. This could mean he has his own vote.”

Dare gave him a curious look. “A vacancy? Is that something that happens often?”

“No.”

“Hm.” Dare ate a bite of bacon.

Mr. Lucas raised a hand. “What we are thinking is that he could be a voting member as well as yourself. Gan, myself, Delgado, and another partner who arrived discussed this last night. Haven’t met Tommy face-to-face yet but with what your father shared, what we’ve seen of you, and that conference call we had with you and Tommy after Gan got shot, the Ferranos are what we believe have the right stuff to be part of the senior partner team. If you both want to have your own votes and full shares, let me know. Now, normally we would want to meet him in person and assess his suitability first but with all we’ve heard…” he shrugged, “it’s mostly a formality. A meeting will be good, though. After the summit, perhaps you can get your brother here for a visit.”

“I’ll see what I can do to make that happen,” Dare said.

Mr. Lucas continued, “But as for the partners attending, all but a few. Sylvia and Edward will dial in for part of the conference. They don’t attend in-person, haven’t for years. They consider it too risky. The paparazzi are always on their tails.”

“Sylvia and Edward?” Dare inquired.

“Frost. You know who she is, I’m sure.”

“The one in politics,” Dare said softly.

Mr. Lucas nodded. “The very same. Donavan’s mother, Jason’s grandmother. She has been mostly uninvolved for the past decade but we’ve asked that all partners attend either in person or via conference for this meeting. And Edward Douglas.”

“Edward Douglas?” Dare asked, eyebrows raised.

“The Hollywood movie producer, yep.”

“Never woulda pegged him as a kinky fucker, would ya?” Delgado asked as he and Rafe Ruiz joined us.

Delgado went on. “He’s been here at least five times a year for the past three years. He has to give the paps the slip and things have been heated, so he hasn’t been able to come in a few months. He got some bad press with his divorce so they’re still followin’ him. Occasionally brings carefully vetted actors with him. Once brought an actress to prep her for a role. Your lovely wife here was very helpful in that scenario,” Delgado shared.

Dare looked at him with an expression that made my heart skip a beat. Dare didn’t even try to hide that he disliked the turn in conversation.

“My apologies,” Delgado raised a hand. “Forgot there for a moment that you like to think of her as fresh like the pure virgin snow.” Delgado scoffed and rolled his eyes toward Rafe.

Dare gave him a smile but it was evil, sour, and threatening. Delgado took the hint and signaled a server who came over and brought him a cup of coffee.

“Mr. Ferrano,” Rafe said, “no pressure at all, but I wanted to remind you that Cleopatra Jade is in suite 704, awaiting her punishment. We have been supplying her with food and drink. She’s not restrained. If you have any instructions…”

“I’ll let you know,” Dare answered casually.

“If you want to be shown there, any of our staff will be happy to accompany you and get you any implements required. The suite is fairly well outfitted.”

“Thanks, Rafe.”

I was finished with my breakfast and Dare had pushed his own plate away, the food barely touched.

“What’s on the itinerary for today?” Dare asked.

Mr. Lucas answered, “The other attending partners will all arrive throughout today and will convene here around 5:30 or so for cocktails. Tonight, there’s a party. Tomorrow we have our general board meeting and then more members but non-partners will come. Tomorrow night, another party. A big one.”

Gan Chen entered at that point and strolled directly to our table. “Dario, could I trouble you for a quiet word?”

My heart skipped a beat.

Dare stood and squeezed the back of my neck and then moved out of the room with Mr. Chen. I felt panic rising. I felt nauseous.

No one would touch me. No one would dare. Would they? There were three strands on my throat, weren’t there? I touched my necklace and counted them. 1, 2, 3. Right? 1, 2, 3. Yes, three.

I know he wouldn’t have wanted to leave me unattended, but he was sort of stuck. He couldn’t have dragged me with him, couldn’t have shown distrust.

I sipped my coffee and kept my eyes downcast. X to Y, Angie, X to Y.

Angie? Had I really just thought of myself as Angie?

Conversation continued around me as if I weren’t there, until Rafe leaned over and interrupted my wonky train of thought, which was stuck on repeat.

Angie?

“How are you, Felicia, darling?” he asked.

Not Angie; Felicia.

“I’m good,” I replied. Or rather, lied. I wasn’t fine. I was coming unglued.

“You’ve been missed. Patrons have asked after you.”

It felt like the food in my belly went rancid.

“We’ve had some disappointed patrons who have truly missed you. I just wanted you to know you leave behind a legacy. Girls will aspire to be like you. So, that they can be rewarded like you were.” He sipped from a glass of orange juice.

I said nothing.

“Cleo?” He added, “She’s jealous; she has already been jealous of you for some time. She was enthralled by Donavan and he was enthralled with you, so she lost favor. From there, every opportunity to give you a hard time, she took. And then you getting bought? She needs a reality check with this insubordination. Mr. Chen is recommending to your Master right now that you be the one to punish her. She needs to see you’ve risen above her. If your Master agrees to this, I hope you’ll make her punishment poignant.”

My throat went dry. I couldn’t swallow.

Dare returned and his face wasn’t happy as he came in and was even less happy when he saw that Rafe was leaned in toward me and speaking to me. Rafe must’ve caught sight of Dare’s body language as he suddenly but quickly moved back.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dare demanded.

“I was just talk–”

“Get the fuck back, Ruiz,” Dare demanded.

Mr. Chen stepped closer to Rafe. “Rafe? Explain yourself.”

“He was told last time I was here that no one was to approach her. Did I fuckin’ say that to you, Ruiz?”

“My apologies, Sir. I would be more than happy to give you a play-by-play, every word that I uttered to your Felicia.”

“What is this shit? Your trainer bitch glaring at my wife and this fucking guy completely ignoring my orders about how I want my wife treated?” Dare inquired.

“Dario,” Delgado tried.

“And fuck you, too.”

Oh shit. This wasn’t good.

Mr. Delgado put his hands up defensively.

“Mr. Ferrano,” Rafe spoke. “Please, I’m very sorry. I only…”

“Is she yours?” Dare clipped.

“Pardon?”

“Is. She. Yours?” Dare was so condescending that Rafe looked like he wanted to shrink into himself.

“No, Sir.”

“So, she’s mine?”

“Absolutely. I just–”

“Baby,” Dare ignored him and addressed me.

I met his eyes. “Yes, Dare?”

“Come over here,” he demanded.

I got to my feet and moved to him and he put his arm around me.

“Come.” He led me out of the room and back to our room.

He was emitting serious angry alpha male vibes.

He slammed our door. I was trembling. And aroused.

“What did he say to you?”

“He told me I’d been missed, that girls were aspiring to be like me so they could be rewarded like me. He said Cleo was jealous and that Mr. Chen would recommend to you that I punish her so that she would know I was above her in status.”

His eyes lit with something unpleasant.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I just stood there.

“Let’s go.”

I was about to inquire, ‘Where?’ but I didn’t. Not only might we be being watched but he was exuding this authority, this dominance that put me into absolute obedience mode.

I followed him. I followed him down the hall to Rafe’s office. Rafe was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, looking stressed. Mr. Chen was standing there with him but was on his phone. He ended his call and looked at Dare.

“Ruiz.”

“Mr. Ferrano.” Rafe stood.

“I’d like you to have us taken to Cleo, please.”

“Absolutely. And I overstepped, I apologize. I only…”

“My wife has told me what you said. I’m protective, possessive. She’s mine. I have her because I’m extremely protective and possessive and having her enables me to be…me. You get me?”

“One hundred per cent. I won’t make that mistake again. My truest apologies.”

“See that you don’t. If you find me abrasive and disagreeable, this is just who I am. When it comes to my wife, I will lose my mind if anyone lays a hand on her. She’s mine. Just mine.”

“No explanation required, Mr. Ferrano.” Ruiz had gotten to his feet and fetched a key from a peg board behind a cupboard on the door near the entrance to his office.

We followed him down the hallway. Mr. Chen stayed behind.

“704 has cameras. The cameras are generally left on for punishments. Those punishments being recorded can be helpful for training as well as for patrons later on who enjoy watching. Do you have any objections to this?”

“No,” Dare replied, which surprised me.

He led us into the punishment room where Cleo was being kept. It looked like a medical exam room. In addition to a bench with stirrups and all sorts of straps, there was also a St. Andrew’s cross and a wall lined with whips, floggers, and paddles. There was also a drawer filled with other punishment implements and a small bathroom with a bathtub, toilet, and sink off to the side. I’d been in this room, or another like it at least, both when being punished as well as when attending patrons with a taste for punishment.

She was sitting on the floor in the corner, wearing a beige bra and blue boy short panties, her feet bare, her long straight dark hair in her eyes. She was hunched over, looking a bit defeated, but still looking powerful.

The woman was in incredible shape. Abs of steel. Toned arms and legs. She had honed that body through exercise and some of that exercise occurred when she whipped Kruna assets. I’ve seen her do battle rope workouts in the slave workout room and she works those heavy ropes as easily as she does a whip that weighs nothing.

She looked up at us and her eyes narrowed on me ever so slightly. She wasn’t defeated. She was defiant. And this woman absolutely despised my guts.

“Directions, Mr. Ferrano?” Rafe asked.

“My wife can fasten her to the cross. We’ll take it from here. Have a medic on standby.”

Was this really happening?

“Cleopatra? Move,” Rafe ordered and Cleo got to her feet and slowly moved to the cross. Her face held an expression that was something between boredom and disdain. Like she was disgusted that she had to suffer this, because it wasn’t interesting enough to warrant her attention and time.

“Get her fastened, babe,” Dare said.

This was not right. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t! What on earth was happening here? What on earth was going on? This was really happening.

Despite my brain firing on multiple cylinders but doing a tailspin, my body moved, following his orders. It had to. I went into automatic slave mode when he gave me an order in that tone of voice he was using. I don’t know if I’d ever heard this specific tone before arriving at Kruna the day before, but it was extraordinarily commanding, dominant.

“Make sure she’s fastened tight,” he added.

He was often direct, dominant, but this? I didn’t know how to feel about it. But that said, my body knew what to do. It did what my Master told me to do. She didn’t fight me as I buckled her in at the wrists and ankles. Her eyes were downcast but her look was not submissive.

“Tight,” he demanded.

I was done.

“Come here.”

I moved to him at the wall of whips.

“Which one?” he asked softly.

I was stunned silent.

“Which one of these do you want to beat her with?” His hand cupped my jaw and his thumb stroked my cheekbone.

I stared at him blankly for a split second.

“She’s been a horrible bitch to you for two years. This stops now.” Dare was speaking to me, but he was speaking to Cleo, really.

I was like a deer in the headlights. I clamped my mouth shut after realizing it’d been wide open.

“Angelbaby. Which one?”

I blinked.

He gave my ass a slap; I jolted in surprise. He needed me to play a part. I had to snap to it; we were being filmed.

“Which one?” he asked in my ear and then kissed behind it. “Pick one that’ll hurt.”

I pointed at a big, wide red whip.

“What’s this one?”

“Dragon’s whip,” I said, fingers trailing the length of it almost lovingly. “That end is pointed like a dragon’s tail. She was always known as the dragon lady, so it seems fitting.”

“It certainly does. Take it.”

I lifted it off the hook.

My eyes met Cleo’s and she looked at me like I was a joke.

“Whip her,” Dare ordered.

I was stunned. Not only because I had to do this while being filmed but because Cleo faced me.

“Master, may I speak?” I asked.

“Of course, my baby. You never have to ask me that, you know that.”

“She should be the other way if I’m to whip her. So, I can whip her back and buttocks, not her front.”

“She’s gonna get whipped across the front and the back, my baby. This bitch-faced cunt deserves it. You’re gonna give her some not-so pretty scars, today.”

My eyes met his. His voice was so sinister, so angry. He was pissed off, serious. Not only was I wired for sound for the federal agents to listen but we were being filmed by the Kruna cameras, too. And he was dead serious. My husband was in Master mode and ordering me to whip Cleo with the scarlet red suede dragon’s tail whip that was in my hand. I had to obey him.

She was staring at me, unsure, horror in her eyes. She was showing the horror and that wouldn’t do. I moved in, close to her, and put my arm around her and my lips to her ear,

“Be my good girl. Do what your Master tells you to do and not only will you be rewarded here by giving this bitch a punishment, but I’ll reward you as well. Do it.”

I was frozen, paralyzed.

“What is it?” he demanded, backing up. “Do you not think she deserves a punishment?” He crossed his arms across his chest.

“I… I just don’t know if I’m the one who should give it, Master.”

“Do you want me to do it?” He took his blazer off and rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows.

Did I?

No. Even if Cleo did deserve it, he didn’t need that black mark on his soul. I wouldn’t make him endure that. She’d wronged me and he wanted me to be the one to punish her. Maybe he thought it would help me. Part of my therapy. I didn’t think it would help. I was already feeling like I was coming unglued, barely managing my X to Y pattern.

He took the whip from my hand and moved toward Cleo.

“No, M-master. I can do it.”

He handed it back, a small smile on his face but that smile did not touch his eyes. And then he looked deep into my eyes and the expression he gave me told me I wasn’t doing a very good job here. I needed to do better.

I had to obey him. I had to be 100% Felicia.

“Do you understand why you’re being punished, bitch?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said softly, seeming like she didn’t give a shit.

“Tell me why you’re being punished.”

“For disrespecting you, Sir. I apologize.”

She didn’t look sorry.

“And for disrespecting my wife.”

“Yes, Sir. My apologies for disrespecting your wife.”

The way she said wife was like it was a foul word.

“Does she seem sorry enough, beautiful, precious wife? Should we skip the punishment?” he asked me.

I opened my mouth but my voice failed me.

“Answer me truthfully or you’ll get a punishment, too, my baby. And not one of those ones you like.”

“She doesn’t seem sorry, Master. But, I think we should sk---”

“Whip her. We’re not skipping,” he cut me off.

I was frozen.

“Now.” The authority in his voice gave me no choice but to comply. “And don’t just whip her. I want you to break her.”

I lashed out and caught her thigh, leaving a red mark.

She barely flinched. I looked at her face. Her face was like stone, but her eyes were filled with hate.

She was enthralled with Donavan Frost? All the time she’d supposedly spent with him before me would mean she could take the pain of a whipping. My attempts to whip her were probably laughable to her.

He couldn’t come unless he was hurting someone while he came and while the whip wasn’t his favorite with me, he used it on her a lot, according to Kruna lore. She could withstand a whole lot more than my sad attempts. I’d heard that he’d been credited with toughening her up substantially when he was first promoted to the role Gan Chen now had. No way would I be able to break her.

“Again,” Dare ordered.

I did it again and caught her stomach. She grunted in a way that Dare might think was pain but I knew that grunt. She thought I was a joke.

A bright red mark was left behind.

“How do you feel about the things she did to you, baby?”

“I…” I was having trouble forming a coherent sentence in my brain, never mind on my tongue.

“Tell her!” Dare demanded, anger in his voice.

“I hated it. She was horrible.”

“What did she do?”

“She screamed in our faces, she beat us, humiliated us. And worse.”

“Wasn’t that just her job?” he asked. “Strike her again.”

I pulled my right fist up to my left shoulder and then thrust the whip at her and it was harder this time, leaving a bigger mark across her hip. She was holding her breath, gritting her bared teeth, still looking at me like I was sludge beneath her feet.

God, I hated her. She was a horrible bitch. She didn’t need to be that mean. Other trainers weren’t that mean after breaking a slave. Once you were broken it just wasn’t a necessity.

And most of them hadn’t previously been a slave, like Cleo. Her being a former slave should’ve meant that she’d be a trainer who tried to do better. We were broken, why did she need to keep pushing us lower and lower into the gutter?

“Tell her. Tell her exactly what you think of her. Now!”

“Tell me, Felicia. Listen to your Master, you worthless slave, you,” Cleo taunted. “He should be whipping you for being such a worthless–”

I snapped, like the straw had been dropped on my back and it broke my self-control.

“You fucking bitch, you!” I mocked the way she used to speak to me. “You made everyone afraid to even look my way. I was treated like a leper in here because no one wanted to be nice to me because it would piss you off. For someone who endured all we endured, you’d think you’d be a little nicer to us!”

She laughed. Laughed. Like I was a little idiot.

“May I speak freely, Master Ferrano?” Cleo grunted.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Go for it,” Dare invited, “but be prepared for consequences.”

He stepped outside.

Cleo glared at me and spoke low, “I never break for this place, except for Mister Frost. You may have a high pain threshold but mine is higher. I love my job. Fuck you, Felicia. You are not better than me now you have a master. You still a sub little bitch who suck cock and spreads legs to earn your meals. I make little weak bitches like you break and cower. I am good at my job. I worked hard so I could earn my meals through showing my power, not by being weak. Being me is much better than being you. Your Master is too easy on you. Look at you now.”

I let my wrist fly and the whip lashed across her chest. She startled and winced. I did it again, in nearly the same spot.

“You fucking bitch.” I let it fly again, flicking my wrist harder, and it lashed across her face. She gasped and blood trickled down her cheek. I did it again and again and she slumped.

“I might be weaker than you but you taught me some of your best whipping skills, didn’t you?”

I felt Dare behind me. He was back.

She did, for a reverse role-playing party. Not all the sirs participated but some did and we’d all done training before we could take part. I’d been praised for how easily I’d picked it up. I had only whipped for the one party, several months before Dare, but I remembered the technique.

I flicked harder. She winced with the pain as the dragon’s tail nailed her in the throat.

“Stop,” Dare said.

Dare moved to her and unbuckled her wrists and her feet.

“Fight back and I’ll knock your teeth out,” he clipped at her.

Cleo was panting.

“Tell me you fuckin’ understand me?” Dare had her by the throat and he squeezed.

She sputtered. “Y-yes, sir.”

He threw her over the bench, stomach first, and secured her wrists and ankles with restraints that were dangling from the side of the bench.

“More,” he ordered.

I felt a little sick. She was bleeding.

“Do it. She gets ten lashes across her back. For all she’s done to you, to the other girls here when they didn’t deserve it. Now.”

I looked at the blood on her face and I choked on emotion.

“Felicia!” Dare snapped that horrible awful name and hearing it in my Master’s voice made me snap back into slave mode and do what I was told.

I was Felicia. Obedient slave.

Lash after lash came down on her back, her backside, the backs of her legs. I forgot to count. I was just whipping. And crying. And seeing a movie in my head playing through so many times where she’d screamed in my face, backhanded me, denied me food, made me do more exercise. Sometimes she’d make us exercise until we dropped.

She’d made me exercise until I’d puked bile on an empty stomach more than once. She’d grab nipples and twist them in punishment. She’d throw us in the basement shower stalls and throw high-pressured cold hoses on us, and then whipped our over-sensitized skin afterwards. Taunting us. Calling us names. Telling us that we were worthless.

She would straddle my face and make me give her oral while she pulled my hair painfully if she didn’t think I was good enough at it. She’d put a strap-on massive dildo on once while punishing me, raping my ass while choking me and laughing while she did it.

I heard a voice, “Stop,” the voice said. That voice was far away. It barely registered.

I didn’t stop. I watched her skin break under the whip. I wished I’d frozen her skin first, like she used to do to us to make the whipping hurt even more. Beautiful crimson appeared under each lash. I kept going.

“Baby, enough.”

I kept whipping, crying, shouting expletives, seeing the beautiful crimson.

“You fucking!” Strike on the legs. “Fucking rapist bitch!” Strike across the lower back. “I fucking hate you. What you’ve done to us, you cunt.” Lash across the side of the face. “You fucking wretched piece of raping shit.” Another lash across the face.

“Oi!” Dare had my wrist and he grabbed the whip out of my hand. His arm was bright red. He’d taken a lash while stopping me.

I started struggling.

“Felicia!” That snapped me back where I was, to my reality. I felt my disobedience wash over me. Regret. I struggled against my master.

He took a lash in stopping me! My God. I stared at the red on his arm and then my eyes moved to Cleo.

Cleo was bloody and sobbing, her hands clenched into fists in the shackles that held her arms tight.

I was panting. My heart was racing.

I felt what I did to her penetrate. Her back and legs were a mangled mess. Half of her face was coated in blood. Her throat was bleeding.

I went weak in the knees. He supported me. I sank into him, put my forehead to his chest.

He tipped my chin up and looked me in the eye. I couldn’t read what was in his eyes.

He kept my tipped-up chin high and held it there, giving me a look that bolstered my strength. He gave me a little nod and released my chin. I kept it up high. I knew that’s what he wanted.

I moved toward her.

“You broken yet?” I hissed.

“Yes,” she choked.

I leaned over and spat on her face. “It’s definitely way better to be me than to be you. Don’t ever forget that.”

I then strutted out ahead of Dare. I was cool, calm, and collected on the outside. Inside, I was as close to a nervous breakdown as I could probably get without actually falling to my knees and having a complete and utter meltdown. I had to make it to bed. I had to close my eyes and go to sleep. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to process. I needed to just walk. One foot. The other. The other again. Walk to my room. Get to my room.

Rafe stepped into the hall from another room down the hall and gave Dare a nod and then he moved past me toward where Cleo was. We were a few doors down when I saw two medical staff members moving down the hallway. They only just barely registered.

I walked and walked and finally found myself at the door. I reached for the knob.

“Babe, this way,” Dare urged. He touched the small of my back and led me in the other direction. I’d been going to the slave quarters. It must’ve been out of habit, out of being on autopilot.

I wasn’t doing X to Y. I wasn’t even back at A to B. I didn’t know where the heck I was or what the heck I would do next.

He led me back to our suite and once inside, I heard the door shut behind me. Dare was behind me.

I spun around to face him.

“I… I can’t believe you made me do th-that…”

His expression dropped.

A rushing of white noise filled my ears, my brain. Opaque spots were floating in front of my eyes.

I collapsed.

Angel went down. I caught her before she hit the floor. She was out. Fuck.

I’d seen only black from the moment I returned to that dining room and saw Rafe Ruiz, leaned in, an inch from her ear, talking to her. The look on her face, his proximity, and all of that on top of all I was already dealing with? It crashed down on me then, at that second, like a black curtain of anger.

Cleo?

I’d felt like it had to be done. That cunt needed punishment and by my ordering my wife to do it, I’d show them what they wanted to see. I’d agreed with Gan Chen when we’d spoken in the hall outside the dining room.

Having Angel punish Cleo would put Cleo in her place. He’d told me I could do whatever I felt needed to be done. In fact, harsh punishment would be appreciated, since several slaves had witnessed Cleo’s attitude since we’d arrived and action had to be taken.

They’d be pulling her from her current position, handling, training, and managing and correcting slaves. She would be put somewhere else on the resort. But, only if she got back in line. She was apparently behaving like she’d never behaved before, so they were putting her in line or she would be put out of her misery.

Having Angel punish her at my command would show I was Angel’s master, she was my obedient wife, and that bitch would get what was coming to her. Even more, my Angel would get something cathartic out of it. Revenge. Pay that bitch back for her bullshit treatment of the Kruna victims. If I were Angel, I’d wanna pay that shit back. For sure.

So, in the heat of the moment, my anger at all we were dealing with, I thought I’d done something good for her by giving her what I figured I’d want in her shoes.

I was wrong. As she opened her eyes, in my arms, I knew just how wrong. Really fucking wrong. I hadn’t thought like her. Just because I figured I’d want that didn’t mean it’d be what she would’ve wanted. I’d made irrational decisions through the black rage.

Her body started trembling and her eyes were filled with accusation. I’d abused her trust. Horribly.

“Sweetheart…” I whispered.

The trembling had started low and was revving up like someone turned the volume up. And it kept going up.

Her chin was trembling, her eyes were wet, and then she started to grab for my shirt.

I lifted her wrists up over her head and pinned them under one hand and my other hand went into her panties. Her skirt was up around her waist.

“Kick your shoes off,” I told her. She jerked around, crying.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

I leaned down and took her shoes off for her. But when I’d let go, she started to fret, to hyperventilate, so I grabbed her wrists and re-pinned her.

“Shh, I’ve got you. Open up.”

She spread her legs wide. The thought of cameras occurred to me but she still had her panties on, just me with my hand in them. She was not wet.

“Feet together.” She put her soles together so that her legs were wide. She was sobbing.

“Baby, I’ve got you. Okay?”

She nodded, her eyes bloodshot, her chest moving up and down quickly.

I kissed her tears. Her eyes were fixed on something. What? I followed them to my forearm, which had a thick red welt from when I reached and took that whip from her. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and chewed her cheek.

“Stay still. Let me make you come. You’re such a good girl. My good girl.”

It wasn’t very convincing.

I tightened my grip on her wrists and then I circled with three fingers around and around her clit. She closed her eyes tighter, her facial expression like she was in pain. She lifted her bottom up a little, moving into my hand.

“Look at me.”

She obeyed. But her eyes…they were looking right through me, like she didn’t even see me.

“I want you to come for me. Calm down and concentrate on what my fingers are doing. What are my fingers doing?”

“Trying to make me c-come.” She groaned and her mouth opened.

“Yeah, baby. Making you come. My good girl. Moan for me. Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

She was still dry.

I leaned over and sucked on my fingers and then worked them into her. I kissed her, teasing her lips open with the tip of my tongue as I worked my middle finger inside her and pushed against her g-spot.

“Ah. Yeah, Master…” she whispered against my mouth. “Right there.”

I kept that finger there and put my thumb to her clit and strummed and stroked it.

“Master. Please don’t stop. Don’t. Ah! Damn it.” She got a frustrated look on her face. She’d been at the edge of that cliff but hadn’t gone over.

Her body went from lax to tight and she shifted, blew hair out of her eyes, used her upper arm to rub her nose and then blew her hair out of her eyes again. She was having trouble. She began breathing harder, almost hyperventilating, but it wasn’t with an impending orgasm. This was stress. Full blown anxiety attack and I wasn’t doing anything to help.

I let go, grabbed the crotch of her panties, and yanked it forward without pulling them off so that I could get my mouth to her clit.

“Fuck, you taste amazing,” I told her.

She let out a whimper. I worked her with my tongue and it seemed like she was getting closer. But then she started to fret, like she didn’t want it.

I flipped her over onto her belly and lifted her hips.

“Master,” she pleaded.

I don’t know if she wanted me to hold her down again or what but I wanted to make her okay, so I was trying something else, something that’d maybe be a different pattern.

“No. Stay like that.” I worked my suit pants undone. Shit, I wasn’t even fully hard. I grinded against her ass, my dick still in my pants. I grabbed a handful of her hair and lifted her up by it. She was supporting herself on her palms. I held her tenderly by the throat and grinded a few more times.

Shit, I loved her. I needed to make her okay. I’d fucked up really badly and now I was on the verge of an anxiety attack, too.

What good was I? I fucked up and now I couldn’t calm her down and I could barely get it up. And people were listening. Not just that, they might even be watching.

“Beg,” I demanded. She usually got off on that. I usually seriously got off on that, too.

“Pl-please,” she whimpered.

This wasn’t her normal begging style. Fuck, but we were both struggling here. And if someone was watching this on camera, they might be able to tell.

Motherfucking Feds listening to me fail at fucking my wife. That reminder got me hard, my dick taking it as a challenge, and I pushed into her, getting resistance as she was still mostly dry.

She winced.

“You did good, you’re okay. We’re okay. Yeah, babe?” I asked.

She nodded, saying, “Uh huh” as she supported herself, hands on the bed. I got into a rhythm, moving inside her.

“Tighten for me. Milk my cock,” I said.

She didn’t.

She lost her balance and fell on her face. Instead of moving, though, she just stayed there and wept into the pillow.

I grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, going in slow circles, trying to fuck her right, trying to make her feel good. Kissing her shoulders, nibbling on her neck.

“Good girl,” I lied.

It wasn’t working. Anyone might think she was crying in ecstasy but she was just weeping into the fucking pillow.

I stopped and got up on my knees, straddling her backside.

I gathered her hair into my fist, gently moved it aside and leaned over and kissed her exposed neck. I started massaging her back with my hands, wanting to work out the tension. I didn’t feel any. She was like a ragdoll. Just limp, lying there.

I rolled off to the side but took her with me. She’d stopped trembling, stopped whimpering. She was just red-eyed, limp and broken. And it was my fault. I’d been spending weeks trying to put her back together and now she looked worse than she did before.

I undid her blouse and took it off her. She just laid there while I did this.

I took the bra off and threw it across the room, hating that she was wired. I got her out of her skirt and she was against my side in just her tiny peach thong. I turned the television on and cranked the volume up. Some Asian parade was on and there was music playing. I turned it louder.

I threw the sheet over our heads. It was a cream-colored sheet so the light filtered through and we could see one another.

“What can I do?” I whispered softly into her ear, as softly as I could, hoping she’d hear me over the loud racket.

She shrugged. She wasn’t looking at me. She was looking off into space. Eyes red, cheeks blotchy.

I curled into her, keeping the bedding over our heads, shielding us from them.

She didn’t snuggle in. She didn’t respond at all. She closed her eyes and then she started to sob again.

I held the back of her head, burying her face into my throat.

She didn’t pull away. She let me hold her. She wasn’t holding me back, though, and that was something I felt in my throat like a big fucking lump.

I tried again. I slid my fingers between her legs. She winced. Her entire body tensed. I let go.

Space. I’d give her a bit of space.

I watched her, tried to read her expression. She lifted the sheet down so that she could get air, leaving me underneath. As if we were in two different places. Separated.

What to do? What to fucking do? Smoke? Drink? Swim? Sleep?

Take her off this property and the fuck away from Thailand?

My phone made noise.

I reached into my suit pants pocket for it.

A text from Tommy told me they were back home and asked me to check in when I had a chance.

I texted:

FML.

He wrote back,

You ok?

I replied,

Not really. Angel really isn’t but I’ll try to fix it. Call you tomorrow. All ok there?

All ok here. Sorry to hear that. You’ll fix it. Take care bro. Talk to ya tomorrow.

I wanted to go work out, take out some frustration. I also wanted to take the pulse of the Kruna partners that were already here. Delgado had knocked on the door while it was happening and asked if he could observe in person. I’d said No. “My wife needs this and I need to be the only one there while she gets what she needs.”

He shook my hand and said he respected that. I had the feeling they were testing me. Things they were doing might’ve been to see if I was putting on an act or being myself.

Now, I needed to know if they would show me a poker face over what’d just happened here. I was good at cards, very good at reading people, and if their opinion of me shifted because of what’d happened in that room or what’d happened in this room, I’d probably see it.

But leaving her alone right now; would that be a good thing for her or a worse thing than the myriad of ways I’d already fucked things up today?

“I’m gonna go speak to them, take the temperature of things. You okay for a few minutes?”

She nodded but her eyes were still lost-looking.

“Want anything?”

She shook her head.

“Back soon.” I kissed her temple. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered into her ear. “Love you very much.”

The grating sound of the loud music on the TV might’ve been bugging her. It was certainly getting to me. I turned the volume down and scrolled until I found cartoons for her. I put the remote beside her and left, taking my keycard and locking the door on my way out.