Dexter (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (25 page)

“I always though
t you were straight too, Marcus,
”
I tease.
“I’m almost thirty-eight years old. I’ve been married for
eigh
teen years. I own a
BDSM club and I’m a member of the lifestyle, yet I get less sex then my granddaughter. I’ve been with
four
women in my entire life. I’
m a damn virgin by the standards of the lifestyle. It’s no longer a straight, bisexual, or gay thing for me.
I just want to be happy
.”

“Have you spoken to Katya about this or Diane?”
“Fuck Diane.
” I wince at the venom in his voice. “
You do not know what she has put me through. If there was ever a person in cont
rol of all of us, it’s her. We’
re her puppets. I’ve been with her
once
in my life. I’ve only had sex with my wife
one time
.”
Marcus holds a scream inside as his chest rapidly collapses and expands from his violent pants.

“I’m better. I’m fine. No, I haven’t talked to Katya. Diane knows what’s going on
since she’s the perpetrator
. We all agreed to keep Katya out of it. Cort is an amazing actor. He lies in bed with
them
and cuddles and kisses. He breaks Ezra’s heart by refusing to be with him. In private Cort is a demon. I turn into one too. We go at each other like frustrated bulls testing to see who will be in control at the end of the fight. What you saw between Cort and me was my reward for being topped by the bastard.”

“I’m sorry, Marc.”
I say sadly.
“It’s fine. We’
ll either fuck or kill each other.
It’s
two
tempests
meeting and creatin
g a hurricane. I’m not sure we’
ll survive, but it’
s the
waiting that’
s killing us.”
“Do you want me to talk to them for you?” I offer hopefully.

“No thank you, Cousin. It’
ll only make me appear weaker. Today i
s your day. I’
m happy for you and I know you’ve made the right decision. I was a stupid, horny kid when I met Diane. She was an older heiress t
hat tripped every trigger I had
. She did the bait and switch on me. Monica can’t do that to you. You’re both older and you know each other inside and out. Your union is a great thing.”

He pulls me into a strong embrace and holds me for a few minutes.
“I’m proud to call you family,” he whispers against my forehead before he kisses it gently.

“Let’s go get you hit
ched,” he says and
he pounds me in the center of my back with his clenched fist. We share a mutual laugh as we head down the hallway into Restraint’s main dungeon.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

I slowly walk down the corridor
and I instinctively know
that our wedding will be performed in the center of the dungeon. If I didn’t know Monica better I would think that she made the preparation with just me in mind. But I know her better; she sees our union taking place in the location we met as the ultimate
conclusion. I agree the dungeon
is
the
perfect
location for our wedding
.
I love knowing that all of this was her idea, her decision. I know that I was in the front of her mind while she picked everything, but it was still under her control.

Monica is my submissive, but I want her in control of her own life. I will step in at a moment’s notice, but overall
,
I want a strong, independent woman to be my wife and the mother of my children. She can bend to my will in the bedroom.

If I didn’t want kids so bad
ly
a total power exchange would work for me, as it does with Tobias. And that is why it works with Tobias; I don’t want to make babies with him. I’m not sure I could respect my wife if it was a total power exchange relationship. I respect Tobias in that position, but not Monica. Monica’s personality isn’t meant for a slave. She just needs the reassurance that I will catch her when her daily stress becomes too much for her to handle. I will catch her everyday if I have to, but she will control her own life in the process.

I exit the hall and my breath ceases. A circle of people in the center of t
he dungeon hide
s
my bride from
sight. I see all of our Masters including Devlin Conrick, as well as the submissive members and trainees. A circle of Masters and trainees
are
in the center of the room while Restraint’s members are loosely arched around the perimeter.

What catches my breath in my throat is that everyone is wearing initiation robes. The black hooded cowls cover every inch of the members. I can only tell them apart by their stances and body structures.

Marcus hands me my cowl and puts his on while I struggle into my own. I hold the man’s familiar gaze
,
so similar to my own
,
as we lower our hoods over our heads. I catch a sly smirk stretch his lips before all access to his face is cut off. I know that the hoods represent silence. We aren’t allowed to speak with the hoods in place.
Marcus’ delicate fingers wrap around my wrist. He escorts me through the parting crowd until I am toe
-
to
-
knee with my submissive.
My breath puffs from my chest in violent bursts a
s I lay my eyes on Monica. She’
s kneeling on the floor nude. She isn’t in the submissive kneel
ing position.
She
is abas
ing herself on the floor at my feet. Her little, pink tongue flashes out and swaths across my foot from heel to toe in a long wet line. It takes all my control not to moan at the contact. She slowly resum
es her kneeling position and I’
m hit with a flash of pride so strong I nearly fall to my knees. Monica is giving herself to me with no reservations in front of a large crowd. Her issues have no hold inside her soul any longer.

A tug on my fingers draws my attention away from my bride. I glace down and see that Marcus is handing me a leather strap. I follow the leather until it reaches the back of Monica’s neck. It’s attached to her platinum collar- it’s a leash. My submissive wants to
fasten
herself
to me in every way possible at our union. I smile down at her in pride and amusement. The seriousness of her expression is frozen in place, but I see the shine of her eyes giving away her joy.

“Members, we all stand here today as family as we witness the union of two of our own,” the beautiful dulcet tones echo around the dungeon. The acoustics of the large room are perfect for the French accent of the woman
officiating
our service. I have no idea who she is. I couldn’t
even tell she was a woman since her cowl covers every inch of her body except for the tips of her toes and fingers.

“
S
ubmissive
Monica Penelope James please express your vows to
Master
Dexter Marcus Hayes
,” the sultry voice commands.

“Master,” Monica begins, but I cannot stand
for
her kneeling at my feet when I want her to be my equal in
our
marriage. I pull her leash until her deep, brown eyes meet mine. I flex my finger around the leather strap. I will not relinquish her leash ever. I smile at her and nod for her to go on.
“Master Dexter, I am proud to call you husband from this day forth. I give my thanks to the higher power that led me into your life. You complete and fulfill my life and soul. Our connection is stronger than a marriage vow. I give myself wholly and completely unto you.
My trust in you is infallible.
I promise
to
obey you on this trust alone. I know that you will always command me with my best interests in mind. I may not agree with the order, but I will obey because of the trust I place in you. I promise to be faithful within the rule you place for our lives.
I will respect you unconditionally.
I will remain by your side in sickness and health, for richer or poorer
,
until death do us part. I promise that everyday will be more fulfilling than the last as we meet each other’s needs
completely.” Monica’s eyes fill
with tears as she professes her vows to me. I wipe a few with the tip of my thumb and receive a feminine chuckle from the Officiant.

“Master Dexter Marcus Hayes please
express
your vows to submissive Monica Penelope James,”
the French accented voice
commands me out of my haze.

“Monica, I am proud to call you wife. What I say is the ultimate truth. Trust in me when I say that you are an intelligent, beautiful, amazing, entertaining, competent woman. Know this deep within your soul and do not fall back on past crutches. You do not need those crutches to survive
.
I will hold you up when you fall. When life becomes too complicated all you need to do is come to me and I will take the weight off your shoulders.
I promise to take care of your body, mind, and spirit as if it were my own. It is my own and I want your ultimate happiness, for your happiness is mine. We are deeply connected in a way that nothing can come between us. I promise to make the correct decisions to make our life together wondrous. I promise to create rules for our life that are comfortable for both of us to live within. I promise to respect, honor, and cherish you everyday of our lives. I promise to stand by your side in sickness and health because I will do everything
with
in my power to heal you by making sure you exercise and are well fed. I promise to stand by your side for richer or poor until death do us part. Know that I will do everything in my power to provide all that we need to survive. I
know that you will be shoulder-to-
shoulder with me as we fight for what is ours. We are a team, a partnership in all things
,
until I exercise my right to veto power. I promise that I will not abuse my rights, but know that when I do
,
it is for your own wellbeing.” The vehemence of my vows rolls through the dungeon with the righ
teousness that I speak. The silence is deafening as not a single soul takes a breath.

The room takes a collective breath and movement returns to the guest as we wait for what comes next. I do
n’t know what comes next so it’
s exciting for me. I feel the adrenaline flow through my veins as I wait.
“Now for the rings,” the feminine voice is filled with emotions I cannot fathom. I hear a few sniffles from beneath the hood of her cowl.
A familiar rolling table is place to the left of me. I smirk wondering what the hell is going on.
“
Master
Daniel Whittenhower II, please join us,” the woman speaks.
Whitt smoothly leaves his section of the circle. I would recognize his willowy frame anywhere, that and the aura of kindness that accompanies him.

“Master,” he says as he bows deeply in reverence.

A light bulb flashes in my mind as I come to a realization. The woman officiating our ceremony is The Master, Olivia Fontaine. Jesus. I take
in a deep breath in shock. It’
s an honor and a privilege to have her not only in our
club, but marrying Monica and me
.

“Whitt would like to offer you his services as a gift for your marriage. Your wife thought it best to immortalize your union with ink instead of a removable band of metal. I believe she is so smitten with you, Dexter, that she would tattoo her throat in a living collar in homage to you. I don’t think tha
t is a wise decision since she’
s a professional woman. We all agreed on tattooing wedding bands on your ring fingers. Is this acceptable to you, Master Dexter?”
“Master, yes, I love the idea. Thank you, Master,” I say with equal
reverence
as I bow before her.
She lightly laughs at my adoration. She curls her finger around Monica’s wrist. She places Monica’s hand on the table and straps her securely.
I watch in fascination as Whitt shows his true tal
ent. He’
s an artist. His father
doesn’t allow him to engage in his passions with the exception of dominance. I feel that he is stifled beyond belief. I can feel the joy radiate off of him as he tattoos my wife’
s finger. For him
tattooing is like pain is for me- a gift.

Monica wipes the perspiration that beaded above her top lip with shaky fingers. She doesn’t even whimper as the needle repeated
ly
grinds into her flesh. Whitt’s steady hand slowly scrolls letters around her finger-
DEXTER
. She is branded. My ownership screams from her ring finger. My chest puffs up a
s it fills with pride. My inner-
caveman pounds his fist
s
against his chest in victory.