now,” my master replies, looking away. It infuriates me that he won’t stand up to this man.
“Don’t you think you should be spending your time making sure your competition doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass again, instead of pushing forward so quickly?”
“How would you know?” The words tumble out of my mouth. “Your first attempts failed years ago, and if my master hadn’t funded you, your current attempt wouldn’t be anywhere near completion. You’re bluffing, and it’s making you look preposterous. If you had half the business sense that my master does, you would have gotten behind this idea years ago when it was still fresh—well before my master was in the business, as you pointed out.”
I attacked what I saw as his biggest failure. I know enough about my master’s business to assess the situation adequately, and a part of me reveled in the chance to let the bright, capable part of myself out of its cage like I do when Cash and I work together. It felt good, powerful… and incredibly stupid.
Shit.
“Sir,” I tag on, as if that will erase everything I just said.
There’s silence for a moment, and I think that maybe I didn’t really say it, maybe I didn’t really just call this man out like I did, and just when I have myself convinced that I’m delusional, I hear my master’s voice, low and cold and angry.
“Go wait for me in the coatroom, Sascha.”
I want to apologize, to beg, to plead, but instead I just nod, feeling my eyes grow wide as the words, “Yes, master,” claw their way out of my throat.
I’m scared that I’ve fucked things up for him, and he’ll be upset, and I’ve made a mistake that could hurt him, whatever his goals are that he never tells me about. I don’t even have time to be afraid that I’m walking around alone and unprotected, and I guess it doesn’t matter, because the only eyes on me now are staring at me with shock, offense, and occasional amusement. I walk to the coatroom in a panic, feeling terrible and guilty and wishing he would just come and tell me if everything is going to be okay.
Chapter 4
Humiliation
I don’t wait long.
“Start stripping,” he orders, scowling.
I frown, confused and concerned about how my actions might have affected him. What the hell does he want me naked for? “But—”
“Do as you’re goddamn told!” he hisses, grabbing me roughly by the shoulder. “You’ve done enough damage for one night; Torenze had better be able to see you behave properly when you’re beaten, at least!”
The words hit hard, and I’m suddenly afraid for myself as well as my lover’s reputation. “Cash, please—”
He grabs me by the jaw, cutting off further protests. “Not another fucking word from you. You will only answer direct questions, and you will only do so respectfully, is that clear?”
“Y-yes, master,” I mumble.
I hear someone enter the room as Cashiel—as my master —lets go of my face.
“Start stripping,” my master repeats, and I remove my shirt with shaking hands. I toss it aside, because there’s nowhere else to put it. Torenze has joined us, and he’s smirking at me, standing proud and pleased at my misery.
“Give me your belt,” my master orders, just as I’m undoing it. His voice is quieter now.
I don’t want to. I don’t want to give him my own belt so he can beat me with it. I don’t want someone else to watch this happen. I don’t protest, no matter how badly I want to. As I pull the leather through the straps, I glance up at him, begging him with my eyes and trying to bite back tears.
His face stays hard.
I hand it to him and drop my pants, slowly, before realizing that I’ll have to take my shoes off to get them off completely. Awkwardly, I bend down, trying to squat to avoid putting my ass any more on display than I already will be. I nearly topple over, clenching my teeth at the goddamn spectacle I’m making.
“He could just leave them on,” Torenze comments. “I
“Don’t you think you should be spending your time making sure your competition doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass again, instead of pushing forward so quickly?”
“How would you know?” The words tumble out of my mouth. “Your first attempts failed years ago, and if my master hadn’t funded you, your current attempt wouldn’t be anywhere near completion. You’re bluffing, and it’s making you look preposterous. If you had half the business sense that my master does, you would have gotten behind this idea years ago when it was still fresh—well before my master was in the business, as you pointed out.”
I attacked what I saw as his biggest failure. I know enough about my master’s business to assess the situation adequately, and a part of me reveled in the chance to let the bright, capable part of myself out of its cage like I do when Cash and I work together. It felt good, powerful… and incredibly stupid.
Shit.
“Sir,” I tag on, as if that will erase everything I just said.
There’s silence for a moment, and I think that maybe I didn’t really say it, maybe I didn’t really just call this man out like I did, and just when I have myself convinced that I’m delusional, I hear my master’s voice, low and cold and angry.
“Go wait for me in the coatroom, Sascha.”
I want to apologize, to beg, to plead, but instead I just nod, feeling my eyes grow wide as the words, “Yes, master,” claw their way out of my throat.
I’m scared that I’ve fucked things up for him, and he’ll be upset, and I’ve made a mistake that could hurt him, whatever his goals are that he never tells me about. I don’t even have time to be afraid that I’m walking around alone and unprotected, and I guess it doesn’t matter, because the only eyes on me now are staring at me with shock, offense, and occasional amusement. I walk to the coatroom in a panic, feeling terrible and guilty and wishing he would just come and tell me if everything is going to be okay.
Chapter 4
Humiliation
I don’t wait long.
“Start stripping,” he orders, scowling.
I frown, confused and concerned about how my actions might have affected him. What the hell does he want me naked for? “But—”
“Do as you’re goddamn told!” he hisses, grabbing me roughly by the shoulder. “You’ve done enough damage for one night; Torenze had better be able to see you behave properly when you’re beaten, at least!”
The words hit hard, and I’m suddenly afraid for myself as well as my lover’s reputation. “Cash, please—”
He grabs me by the jaw, cutting off further protests. “Not another fucking word from you. You will only answer direct questions, and you will only do so respectfully, is that clear?”
“Y-yes, master,” I mumble.
I hear someone enter the room as Cashiel—as my master —lets go of my face.
“Start stripping,” my master repeats, and I remove my shirt with shaking hands. I toss it aside, because there’s nowhere else to put it. Torenze has joined us, and he’s smirking at me, standing proud and pleased at my misery.
“Give me your belt,” my master orders, just as I’m undoing it. His voice is quieter now.
I don’t want to. I don’t want to give him my own belt so he can beat me with it. I don’t want someone else to watch this happen. I don’t protest, no matter how badly I want to. As I pull the leather through the straps, I glance up at him, begging him with my eyes and trying to bite back tears.
His face stays hard.
I hand it to him and drop my pants, slowly, before realizing that I’ll have to take my shoes off to get them off completely. Awkwardly, I bend down, trying to squat to avoid putting my ass any more on display than I already will be. I nearly topple over, clenching my teeth at the goddamn spectacle I’m making.
“He could just leave them on,” Torenze comments. “I
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