Mistress of Redemption (14 page)

himself bathed in blood and reveling

in it. Wanting nothing more than to

kill anything female.

Dona wasn’t struggling. She hadn’t

cried out. He could taste her blood,

but she was sitting motionless, letting

him hold her arm in that bear trap

grip, her dark eyes watching him.

She could feel pain. That at least was

a relief, something familiar. There

was a tension to her features, a

quiver in her wrist against his cheek.

It bothered him though, seeing those

signs of pain but no signs of her

trying to strike out at him. She lifted

her other hand, touched his cheek.

“Jonathan has made you into a rabid

animal, hasn’t he? Nothing but rage.

Ssshhh…

Let me go, my sweet slave. Let me

go.”

As he eased his bite, her fingers

wiped away the blood on his lips,

even as her arm oozed more, dripped

onto his skin. It gave him back that

image of being bathed in her blood.

He swallowed, tasting it in a way

that made bile rise in his stomach.

No. He didn’t want that.

“You’re a submissive naturally,” she

said softly. “You’ve made yourself a

vicious bottom. On top of that, you

have the territorial instincts of an

alpha. All those facts don’t change

anything. You’ve never trusted

yourself to experience being a

submissive fully, or met the woman

who can force you to do so. Until

now. You stay here a moment and

think.”

As if he had any choice. Rising, she

walked down to the water’s edge,

dipping her arm in the sparkling

current. When she lifted it, blood and

teeth marks were gone, but he felt as

if the wound was still there,

evidenced by the way she turned her

back on him, leaving him bound and

ignored.

When she sat down on the bank, he

followed her gaze to where Fiona

was bathing.

Her leopard sat restively on the bank.

When Olivia joined Fiona in the

water, she poured liquid from one of

those crystal bottles over her breasts.

Fiona massaged the soap in, enjoying

her own touch, apparently

unconcerned by their regard. As

Olivia let the bottle drift away in the

water, she pressed herself against

Fiona’s back, her hands moving

forward to help as Fiona let out a

sigh of pleasure and leaned against

her, nestling her head comfortably

and looking up at the blue sky, the

froth of clouds moving overhead.

Most of the other women were in the

water now too. Playing with each

other or floating on their backs like

sensually curved lily pads, their pale

breasts 55

Joey W. Hill

the white blooms. Dona linked her

hands around her bent knees. She was

still naked, her hair whispering down

her pale back.

Sirens, just like the picture. Only in

this quiet moment when they weren’t

concerned with him, he thought he

might be seeing the picture when

Hylas wasn’t in it.

Not creatures of predatory danger to

men, but women indulging their own

pleasure in a quiet way, at ease in

their surroundings and methods.

His attention was quickly jerked

away as a hand took hold of his cock.

He tried to jump back from Aliyah

since the hand she gripped him with

held her snake. The beast, a good

foot of his body wrapped around her

forearm, had his hooded head resting

on the top of the hand that deftly

snapped a tether on the new ring at

the head of his cock.

“Get that…” He gritted his teeth,

fighting the quivering panic that came

from having very little ability to

move. With that damn snake too

close, he was afraid it would strike,

be on his cock…

“Be still,” Dona ordered. She’d

turned, her head cocked as she

watched them, her hair blowing

across her shoulder, feathering

against her left breast. He could see

the pink lips of her pussy because the

soles of her feet were spread apart,

bracing her against the grass. She

still glistened with her arousal, with

his pre-cum.

While he didn’t have much choice but

to obey Dona’s wishes, he couldn’t

help the futile locking of his muscles

as Aliyah attached a second, shorter

chain on her tether to the D-ring at the

scrotum. The chain that had been

installed with the piercing that ran the

length of the ladder already put a

strain on his constantly stiff cock.

Now this tether attached to the crown

and root would join the equation,

such that he’d be alternately teased

and tormented by any increase in his

erection or fiercely administered

yank.

After Dona’s refusal to allow him

release he wanted to put his own

hands defiantly on his cock. He could

have jerked off to climax in probably

less than ten seconds, as long as

natural body function still worked as

it should here. He could tell himself

that doubt caused his hesitation, but it

seemed like the tunnel through which

he’d always seen the writing of his

thoughts had expanded, a light cast on

a jumble of different theories he

hadn’t wanted or thought of

considering.

Did he want to have Dona command

his release to prove he could hold out

for it?

Or because he wanted to know she

desired it, like when he was eating

her cunt? Or maybe she’d hit the right

nerve, saying that he had a true

submissive’s nature, that something

inside him needed her to command

it?

Bullshit. It was all bullshit. He could

think straight if Aliyah would pull

that damn snake back a few feet.

Okay, a fucking mile wouldn’t be far

enough. He turned his gaze away

from the creature, knowing the

ridiculous but overwhelming

compulsion to keep staring at the

serpent would not keep fangs from

sinking into his flesh. He focused on

Dona and tried to figure out

something that would transfer some

of the power back to his side.

She was sitting on that bank like an

innocent girl, for Christ’s sake. She

had a mole on the back of one thigh, a

tiny scrape on one finger from who

knew what. Did they 56

Mistress of Redemption

have Band-Aids in Hell? Little

demons with red faces and horns

printed on them, like kid’s bandages?

Her mouth, when relaxed in neither

smile nor frown as it was now, was

somewhat crooked on her face.

Unfortunately, that curvy little body,

those wet crooked lips, the dark,

taunting eyes, the memory of all of

that rising and falling over him, was

not helping in the least.

He cursed on a groan as Aliyah gave

him a cruelly playful squeeze before

she stepped back. The restraints on

his limbs vanished, releasing him at

the same moment that damned snake’s

tongue flickered against his skin. He

scrambled back and swore even

more colorfully as he came to the end

of Aliyah’s firmly held chain. The

resulting pain brought to mind the

disturbing memory from his

childhood social studies class, where

he saw Richard Harris suspended by

his pectorals in
A Man Called Horse
.

He shuddered.

Dona rose then, sauntering toward

him. The innocence vanished and the

boots reappeared. He watched the

first sway of her hips as she moved

toward him in nothing but those

boots. Then the latex pants slithered

up her legs, repainting her pussy and

hips. The corset closed around her,

cinching up and lifting her breasts so

that the swivel of her hips became

even more pronounced. When she put

out her hand, Aliyah laid the end of

the tether over it. Dona twitched it

idly, so he felt the movement like

electrical current running between the

scallops of chain connecting each

ladder down to the scrotum ring.

There were three feet between them

and he ached to close the distance,

just slide his arms around her and

find out how she would feel in his

arms. Maybe she’d like it, like

knowing he was strong and could

hold her as long as she wanted him to

do so. The thought made his heart

ache in an unusual way, not

necessarily pleasant.

For some reason that didn’t matter.

He didn’t want to stop feeling that

desire.

As if she’d read his thoughts, his

Mistress spoke. “Hands behind your

back.”

He made himself stand still this time,

keeping his eyes on hers. Watched

hers heat at his obedience.

It was Olivia who came out of the

water, droplets rolling down her

breasts, her hair shiny and wet on her

bare shoulders. She cuffed his wrists

to the crooks of his elbows so his

arms were folded up above the small

of his back again. Dona stood before

him while it was done, twisting the

leash.

“Lower your eyes.”

“No.”

When she reached out to brush at his

lashes and force his compliance, he

turned his head, pressed his lips to

that spot on her arm, the one that no

longer bore the imprint of his teeth.

He brushed his cheek against her.
I’m

sorry.
He couldn’t say the words, but hoped she felt them.

She stayed still, let him do it. He

lowered his eyes then.

“Are you ready to obey your

Mistress?” She murmured it. There

was something wistful to the tone,

something that was an odd echo of

what he’d just felt in his own heart.

57

Joey W. Hill

He inclined his head. He felt as if he

were gripped by a fever as he stood

before her so helpless and aroused at

once. Was this what those male subs

felt, the married ones, the ones with

Mistresses to whom they’d

committed themselves entirely,

permanently collared? This feral,

raging desire to do or be anything she

wished, if only she’d keep them

chained to her side forever?

It was a disturbing thought, such that

he couldn’t help hesitating as Dona

turned and began to walk away,

expecting him to follow. She glanced

back at him.

“Keep it up and I’ll shove a dildo as

big as Fiona’s strap-on back up your

ass to keep your mind where it

should be. You’ll shuffle along

behind me like an old man.”

That galvanized him into motion,

despite his upper lip curling in a

rebellious sneer she acknowledged

with a half-smile and a sharp tug. He

followed, for he didn’t want his ass

stretched like that again. The memory

of the pain was far too vivid to

ignore.

When he took two steps after her, the

oasis was gone. He blinked in semi-

darkness.

Flashing lights and heavy metal

music pounded through the soles of

his feet. Bodies were on all sides of

him dancing, turning, bumping.

Sweat, perfumes, aftershaves, the

smell of sex and excitement. He was

in a nightclub, a fetish club

apparently, for those around him

were in various BDSM wear, though

he was the only one he could see that

was completely naked. It made him

self-conscious, more so as all eyes

turned toward him, male and female,

enjoying the show. Suddenly the mob

of people made room, putting him

inside a clear circle of space for as

many as possible to see him so

subjugated before his Mistress.

Naked, shaved and pierced, tied to

her with a leash, his arms bound

behind him in a way that he could be

booted off balance with a shove.

“I don’t like this,” he said in a hoarse

voice. There was no way she could

hear him over the noise, but of course

her eyes were on him and she seemed

to understand. She wrapped the chain

around her fist, tugged. He sucked in

a breath, took a step forward.

“You’ll dance for me, now. Move

that fine ass.”

When he shook his head, she

wrapped another length around her

fist. Deliberately raising her arm into

the air, she drew up the slack, taking

him to his toes as she pulled on his

scrotum. His swelling cock was

pulled down in a curve by the limits

of the scallops of chain connecting

the ladder barbells.

“Jesus…”

“You can dish it out, but you can’t

take it? Remember Mistress

Narcissa?” Dona’s voice resounded

in his head, an insidious whisper

impossible to shut out. “You danced

with her on a club floor like this one.

You’d been hers and hers alone for

several months. On a slow song, she