ControllingInterest Page 6

  The black-haired master continued to strike the little submissive’s ass. Stripes covered the trembling globes, but at least there was no blood. Not yet anyway.

  “No… No… No…”

  As each blow fell, her scream became louder. A no for each stroke. Yet everyone watched as if this were no big deal. Just like the way people used to ignore how her grandfather beat her mother. It didn’t matter what she screamed or who she went to for help…they ignored her. Deacon Vincent was a good God-fearing man, and if he thought punishment was merited, then it was. Well, fuck that. No one was going to beat someone up while she screamed for help without Mouse doing something about it. Her fists clenched and she took a deep breath. Just as she lifted her foot, she was grabbed from behind.

  She struggled as she was tugged away from the scene she’d been watching. Mouse twisted, relaxing only slightly when she realized she was in Tor’s grip.

  “Let me go,” she hissed.

  “No. Not until you calm down.”

  “Why the hell aren’t the monitors doing something?”

  “Because there’s no need.”

  “She’s no match for that huge guy.”

  “Neither are you.” He kept tugging her backward as she fought to move forward.

  She pulled out of his arms and whipped around, slapping him hard across the face. “How can you just stand there and leave her to be abused?” Tears streamed down her face and she noticed only as she lifted her throbbing hand to stare at it. She’d hit Tor. Good God, what was the matter with her?

  Tor growled and shook his head. “That’s it.”

  He bent and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She fought to get away as she realized he was carrying her to his office. No one stopped them.

  Once in the office, he let her down but remained between her and the door. She put her hands on her hips to glare at him.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you, Tor?”

  “The matter with me? Nothing’s the matter with me. What’s wrong with you?” He rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. “What the hell happened back there?”

  She paced back and forth. When he moved in her direction, she whipped around to glare at him. “She was screaming no at the top of her lungs. How much clearer did she have to be that she wanted him to stop?”

  “In normal circumstances, I completely agree with you. But a BDSM club comes nowhere near normal circumstances.” He walked over and gently took her hands to stop her from chafing them against each other.

  “Why?”

  “First of all, because no submissive would ever use no or stop as safe words.”

  Mouse could feel her face heat. Shit. He was right. She didn’t want him to be…but he was.

  “A submissive wouldn’t use them and a Dominant would never allow it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh. Second of all, never—and I mean never—interrupt someone else’s scene.”

  “I thought that’s why there are dungeon monitors. If they won’t interrupt a scene, of what possible use are they?”

  “You are not a dungeon monitor.”

  “So?”

  “A DM has had training to handle him or herself. It’s something I demand of anyone I hire to handle that job. They need to understand when there’s a problem and when there isn’t one. A novice should never go blundering into something they don’t understand.”

  “But she was crying.” Mouse shivered in memory. “And screaming too.”

  “I know that. But that particular submissive craves pain. It gets her into subspace and she was really close.”

  Mouse bit her lip. “It didn’t look like that.”

  “I know. But you don’t know her and the DMs who work here do. Take your cue from them. If you don’t trust them, come find me.”

  “But that man was such a brute. He ignored her pleas to stop.”

  “Because he knows she craves pain. I’m not sure Master Drago even noticed you… Then again, he may have been watching your every move while simultaneously focused on the sub.”

  “How could he?”

  “A top can become hypervigilant…hyperaware. Drago is probably that kind of top. But a Dominant also focuses their attention deeply and profoundly on the submissive. He was judging just how hard to hit her. Whether she was at a point where she wouldn’t even think about a safe word anymore… There’s so much that was happening that you didn’t understand. That’s why you should never disrupt a scene.”

  Mouse dropped into a chair and put her head in her hands. “This is too much for me. I don’t know what Regine was thinking.” She shook her head as she fought tears again. Her gut was still twisting in the aftermath of what she’d witnessed.

  Tor crouched in front of her and took her hands. “Hey. What really happened back there?”

  “You saw…”

  “I saw. But it was more than wanting to pound Drago.”

  “Shouldn’t I want to help someone who needs me?”

  “Sure, but this was way more than that and you know it. That was a deep memory for you. What was it, honey?”

  Mouse lifted her gaze, surprised to see Tor’s eyes soften with concern. She shook her head and tried to pull her hands away, but he didn’t let go.

  “You were seeing more than what was in front of you. What did you really see?”

  Mouse closed her eyes while Tor just waited. Could she tell him? It was so dark… Buried so deep…

  “It’s okay, Mouse. Share it with me and maybe you’ll release some of the pain tied to it. Were you in an abusive relationship once?”

  She shook her head. Thank God she’d never had a boyfriend who hurt her.

  “Was it a friend of yours?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Who then?”

  “My mother.”

  “What about her?” His question was soft but insistent. “Did your father abuse her?”

  “Not exactly. It was my grandfather.”

  “Your grandfather?”

  She looked up at the question in his voice and tried to pull away again.

  “It doesn’t matter. Let me go.”

  “Not yet. What did your grandfather do?”

  “It was my fault. Mine.” She tugged her hands away and stood up to walk over to the wall. But he followed, gently pressing her back against the wall with his arms around her.

  “What happened?”

  “I was five and I was disobedient,” she said, and settled into his protective embrace.

  “Your mother was living with her parents still?”

  Mouse nodded. Those years were awful. She didn’t know how she remembered her first five years with such clarity, but she did.

  “How old was she?”

  “When I was five?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nineteen.”

  “She had you at fourteen?”

  Mouse lifted her gaze, glaring at him. “Yes. But it wasn’t her fault. He raped her.”

  “Who? Your grandfather?”

  “No.” She shuddered. “The minister. Mama had gone to stay overnight with her best friend. The minister’s daughter. When she got up in the middle of the night, he was awake and took her to his bedroom. He raped her.”

  “Where was his wife?”

  “He was a widower.”

  Tor growled, brushing her cheek with his fingers. “Did the bastard go to jail?”

  “No.” Mouse snorted. “No one believed my mother. At first they thought she’d been with some boy. Until I looked so much like that horrible man. Then they blamed her. Said nasty things. Said she must have seduced him.” Her gaze met Tor’s. “A fourteen-year-old doesn’t seduce a man in his late thirties. My mother was no Lolita.”

  “So when you were five, what happened?”

  “I’d been playing with my ball in the dining room and it got away from me and broke Grandmother’s china cabinet.”

  “So why didn’t they spank you?”

 
“They should have. I wish they would have.”

  “But?” Again he stroked her cheek.

  Tor leaned forward and set his forehead against hers and she sighed. “Grandfather said I was too young for a proper beating. So Mother would take my punishment so I’d learn my lesson.”

  “Oh Mouse, honey. I’m sorry.”

  “She leaned over the dining room table and they planted me right beside her so I’d have to watch her be beaten and know that I was the reason she was being punished. I’d have to see that, but for me, she would’ve been fine.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. He flipped up her dress and she took down her panties. Then he pulled out a switch and began to whip her.” She shuddered. “It was horrible. At first she was silent. She just took it. And that made him mad, so he hit her harder.”

  “Where was your grandmother?”

  “She was holding me…forcing me to witness it because it was Grandmother who had demanded that Mother be punished for my sin of disobedience.”

  “God.”

  “God had very little to do with it, even if Grandfather was a church deacon.”

  “Yeah.” He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “How long did he beat her?”

  “Too long. Her buttocks were quivering and she started to cry. But he didn’t stop. When the switch started to cut her and she was bleeding, I added my apologies too. Screaming and hoping I could make it stop.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  “No. Finally I screamed at him and threw myself between the switch and her. I still have the scar on my back.”

  “Jesus.” Tor shook his head and pulled her into his arms, gently cradling her close.

  “It ended up being a good thing.”

  “Did the police arrest them?”

  “No, but seeing them abuse me the way they had her made something click. Mama grabbed me and dragged me upstairs even though she could barely walk. She packed some bags and we left her parents’ home and never went back.”

  “Oh Mouse, honey. I’m sorry.” He kissed her forehead and she sighed.

  “We lived on the streets for a while…until she got a job. Later, when I was ten, she met someone special and they got married. My step-father loves her and their kids. He’s a good man.”

  He tilted his head back to meet her gaze. “So when you saw Drago working over that sub, you remembered your grandfather beating your mother.”

  Mouse blinked then slowly nodded. “Yes, I guess so.”

  “No guessing needed. It happened. But you need to learn that a club like this is designed to be a safe environment.”

  “But she said no, Tor.”

  “And no isn’t a safe word, remember?” Reluctantly, she nodded. “And one other thing. If you hadn’t been living in a past moment, you would have noticed that each time she cried out no it was because he paused.” Mouse shook her head. “Oh yes, it was. He’d strike then pause. She’d cry out no and he’d strike again. Then pause.”

  “But he kept hitting her.”

  “Yes, because the no meant please don’t stop and Drago could see that. He understood that because they’ve played together before.”

  “Are they a couple?”

  “No. I’m not sure he’ll ever find a permanent submissive.”

  “Why?”

  “Long story. Suffice it to say, Drago is an excellent top. Careful. Concerned. And completely focused on whatever a submissive needs from him when they’re working together. All right?”

  Mouse sighed and nodded, sagging into Tor’s embrace. “I’m sorry. I just…”

  “Didn’t understand. Yeah, I know.” He brushed her tears away. “So why didn’t the other scenes bother you?”

  “It was how small the woman was and the way she cried, and yet he just kept hitting her.” She shook her head, curving herself against his chest. He stroked her hair and the small of her back soothingly. “Something about the position too…I guess the way she was bent over reminded me of the dining table.”

  “So the other scenes down there didn’t bring this up for you?”

  “No. And neither did what I saw at Unfettered. Not really.”

  “Unfettered?” He continued to stroke the small of her back and she closed her eyes, relaxing into him.

  “Yeah, Saturday night. The public stuff seemed fairly mild, I guess.”

  “Would that be when you wore a gold mask?”

  The quiet question brought her out of her calm and she lifted her head to look up at him. Oh no. No. This was just so bad. He didn’t look mad. But he didn’t look happy either. In fact, she couldn’t read him at all.

  “Um…why would you think that?”

  He tugged her hair out of the bun she’d bound it in and it escaped in kinky waves around her face. His fingers stabbed into her hair, stroking through it as if he loved the texture. She stared up at him, wide-eyed.

  “Let’s see. Some odd squeaks you made this morning and this hair. And the comment you just made about visiting Unfettered on Saturday night. I’d say—case closed. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Circumstantial evidence.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” He cradled her face. “Why did you do it?”

  This wasn’t going well and she still couldn’t tell if he was pissed or not. “I wanted to learn.”

  “So you picked me?” He stiffened, pulling away from her.

  “No. Not exactly.”

  “Well, what? Exactly?” He put his hands on his hips.

  “I didn’t know you’d be there until Mistress Zarah looked past me and said you were right on time for once.”

  “I see.” His eyes narrowed. “And if I hadn’t pieced this together, would you have ever told me?”

  She bit her lip, knowing the answer was no. When she opened her mouth to speak, he withdrew from her—she could almost see it— as he waved her words away.

  “Don’t lie.” He backed toward the door and she felt cold. Alone. Bereft. “You wouldn’t have ever told me, would you?”

  “Probably not,” she whispered.

  “I see. Right. I’m glad I was a good fuck and gave you a nice intro to BDSM. I hope you enjoyed it.” His face was tight and his eyes were cold as he glared at her.

  She reached out toward him but he shook his head. “No. Don’t pretend it was important to you.”

  “But it was.”

  “Sure it was, Mouse. Sure it was. Look, I’ve got a business to handle. Get yourself together and come back out.”

  “But I made an idiot out of myself.”

  “All the more reason to come back to the party. Once Drago is free, you can apologize to him.”

  She blanched. “I don’t need to do that. Nothing happened.”

  “Apologize, Mouse. Knowing him, he’ll expect it, and if you don’t, it will reflect poorly on the club. And that’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You want the money mother left you.” He pulled open the office door and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Well, fuck,” she groaned, falling into a nearby chair.

  Tor stood in the hall, taking deep breaths. His fantasy girl on Saturday night had been Mouse. He’d fucked her and it had been…amazing. Just fucking amazing. He groaned as he recalled the experience and his cock stiffened painfully. If he’d known it was her, he would have spent all night enjoying her. Shit.

  He sighed. Mouse had been sweet, sexy and so surprised by her reactions that it had been a pleasure to tutor her. He shook his head, wanting to smash his fist into the wall. Something about the submissive had reminded him of Mouse, but he dismissed it. Now he wished that he hadn’t.

  But what good would it have done him to know who she was? While it meant something to him to know his submissive lover had been Mouse, it obviously meant nothing to her. If it had been important to her, she would have told him. Should have told him. Instead, she played innocent. Pretended that he never put her over his lap to spank her or that he’d never been inside her hot, wet cunt. He growl
ed.

  Shit, had she done it just to secure the damn inheritance? He took another deep breath. No. He’d known her for years and that was one thing he knew about her. She might want the inheritance, but he didn’t think she’d lie and steal to get it. It just wasn’t part of who she was because she could have robbed his mother blind if she’d really been of criminal intent. Instead, she’d been Regine’s guardian—standing between his mother and the rest of the world. Especially at the end.

  Tor groaned as the prospect of six months of this distance between them suddenly loomed like a hurricane on the horizon. God help him if Mouse took another Dominant as her lover. God help them both.

  Chapter Five

  Mouse was on her way over. Now what? Two months of butting heads with her was getting old. Damn old. He glared at her as she approached. For a moment she quailed then a determined expression stiffened her expression and she tilted her chin. Why did she have to be so fucking cute? Life wasn’t fair.

  “Sir?” A soft melodious voice asked. “Master Torin?”

  He blinked and glanced down. Drago was shopping for a new play partner and Torin was serving as an aide de camp. “Yes, Michele?”

  “I’ve been very bad…” she purred. “Please punish me.”

  He was torn between humor and irritation. The only submissive he’d wanted for two months was the most elusive one alive. Mouse. Celibacy sucked. He couldn’t make himself take anyone but Mouse, but he couldn’t have her.

  “Tor, can I talk to you?”

  He turned to frown at Mouse. “No.” He turned to look back at Michele, but Mouse didn’t move. In fact, he could hear her toe start to tap in irritation. He sighed and turned his gaze back to her. “Make it fast.”

  “I have a suggestion.”

  “Oh Lord no.” he groaned. “Not another one.”

  “Very funny.” She sniffed. “I think it would be a good idea to begin offering classes for our members.”

  “Classes?”

  “Yes. Beginners classes…you know like etiquette.”

  She nodded and smiled sheepishly at Master Drago. He winked at her. Fuck. Drago winked at his Mouse. He clenched every muscle in his body to keep himself in check. If he launched at Drago, the other man would wipe the floor with him.