Hazel St. James - Fighting For You (Redemption#1)[ (3 page)

For the next two hours, Dominic worked with Tristan on first being able to track the motion of the whip as it hit a piece of cloth hanging from a clothesline. Then they moved on to matching the placement of the strikes from the whip to the appropriate area on a boxing punching bag. Dominic dipped the end of the whip in chalk so that Tristan could see where he was landing the strikes. Since the whip scene Tristan was practicing for was not intended to cut the skin, he mainly needed to master the placement of the strikes and then gauge the distance so that he didn’t wrap the whip around his submissive, rather than just flicker at her skin.

When Dominic finally said “Enough,” Tristan’s arms were burning from the strenuous arm movements it required to move the eight-foot whip in the perfect strike pattern. Sweat was pouring down his forehead, and he was panting.

“Very good, Tristan. Let’s take a break for a while. I would really like for you to feel the whip on your own skin a few times before I release you to run a scene on your own. Valerie is a very well trained submissive and won’t give you any problems, but she is also a masochist and loves the bite of the whip. You need to feel what the different types of strikes feel like, so you can give her what she needs. Will you allow me to restrain you and show you what the different variations feel like?”

The word
restrained
was conjuring up all sorts of images in Tristan’s mind and none of them were pleasant, in any way. “Fuck no, man,” Tristan practically laughed at the man. There was no way that he was going to willingly be strapped down and beat, by a man no less. But, by the way Dominic immediately raised his eyebrows and was staring at Tristan like he had grown horns, he knew that he’d just fucked up. Dominic was just opening his mouth to argue when Tristan quickly spoke over him, “I mean, no restraints. I think I can handle myself enough to be able to stand still. I don’t need a break; let’s get to it. We only have an hour left before the club opens, and I need to shower before we start. Don’t want my little pet to think I’m a stinky fucker.”

Tristan slapped Dominic on the arm as he walked by him to the far end of the whip station. It was easy enough to know where to stand, since there was a Saint Andrew’s cross at the end that was equipped with upper and lower restraints. They had hung the cloth and punching bag from a chain in front of the cross when they were practicing earlier, and Tristan removed all the pieces and set them off to the side.

He removed his cotton T-shirt and tossed it to the side, exposing his colorful body art on the front of his chest. He had a few tattoos on his chest from his teenage years and a half sleeve on his upper bicep that was still a work in progress. He turned around so that his back was to Dominic and held his arms out to the sides. He lowered his head and stared at his boots and steeled himself for the first strike.

“I will do different variations of the more basic lashes. I won’t get into anything that will leave marks…at least that last for more than a day,” Dominic jested. “You will feel the bite at varying intensities. Ready?”

“Yup. Fire away.”

The only way that Tristan knew Dominic had swung the whip was the
whoosh
he just barely heard. There were no other sounds or movement, and there was a small spot on his back that tingled. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have realized the first one had landed.

The next two strikes were stronger and left a sting in their place. Tristan was starting to sense the pattern of the blows and was ready when the third and fourth one came. What he wasn’t ready for was the intense pain that stayed with him long after the whip had left his back. It started as a tingle and slowly spread across his skin like tiny prickles.

His muscles tensed when he heard the
crack
of the whip behind him, but the blow had already landed by the time he heard it. Tristan was paralyzed as the pain took a direct route along his nerve endings and flooded his entire body. He couldn’t help the scream that escaped through his clenched teeth, and he clenched his eyelids together tightly.

When Tristan thought the pain was back to a manageable level, another round came like flicks of lightning, and he fell forward on his knees. There was no pain this time, even though Tristan felt as if his skin was on fire. Waves of pleasure rolled across his nerve endings and felt like they were on a direct path with his already throbbing cock.

Tristan was beyond surprised at how his body was reacting to the pain, but he’d just listened to Chris drone on and on for hours about the fine line between pain and pleasure. He knew that if Dominic were to keep this up, he wouldn’t be able to control himself anymore. It should have embarrassed him to be this turned on by being whipped by another man, but something in his brain flicked on like a light switch.

Tristan had already felt the power in the whip when he used it himself and was more than certain now of the possibilities after feeling what it would do to someone’s willing body. He wished he didn’t have to learn so hands on with another guy, but if this is what he had to do to get to that sweet honey pot at the end of the day, then so be it. Because right now, his brain was flooded with images of a petite tattooed brunette, writhing naked in this very spot as he controlled her like a puppet on marionette strings. To hold control over someone like that, with them being absolutely helpless and needing Tristan to bring them the ultimate release, was a huge shot of adrenaline to his body. It was a thing of beauty to see in his mind and having that possibility so close to him, was damn near perfect.

Dominic approached, but to his credit, he didn’t touch Tristan as he panted and his chest heaved on his knees at the end of the whip station. “How do you feel?”

Tristan had to clear his throat a few times to find his voice, “Fucking amazing. I’m ready.”

Chapter Three

T
ristan was practically bouncing back and forth on the heels of his boots, ready to get started with the evening. He was leaning his back against the railing to the stairs and had a clear view to the alcove where the submissives would be waiting. He had on a pair of black dress pants with a brand new pair of black boots. He went bare chested and had switched out the studs in his nipple piercings for his blue titanium half hoop rings.

Valerie was a pretty, little, inked-up pixie that Tristan had briefly met for coffee early that morning. She was a sweet little bundle of energy, and the way that she watched him with a passionate look in her eyes, made him feel damn near ten feet tall.

Tristan was more than aware that he was attractive to the opposite sex and even members of his
own
sex. He wasn’t overly tall, but was blessed with great genetics and was always fit and toned, no matter how shitty his diet was. Most of his youth he was the kid that no one paid much attention to. That worked well for him, since he preferred to stay incognito and blend into the crowd. In high school, the only physical activity that he participated in was a few nights a week at the skate park and a daily workout at the gym. But most of the time, he stayed to himself and tried not to attract attention.

During most of his high school years, Tristan was floating amongst the other kids, not able to find his place in life. Nothing seemed real anymore, and everything was dull and lifeless. There really wasn’t any point in continuing with school, since his
I don’t give a fuck
attitude left him with straight Fs and a terrible attendance record. He wasn’t going to graduate anyway, so he dropped out at the end of his junior year. No one gave two pisses in the wind what happened to him, and it was months before his uncle even noticed that he was no longer in school.

Tristan turned eighteen the summer before his senior year, so he wasn’t breaking any truancy laws. It was well into the snowy Colorado winter before Tristan found himself evicted from his tiny apartment that, until just recently, his uncle had been paying the rent on.

At first, Tristan lived off the generosity of his friends, until their numbers started dwindling. Then he moved in with his uncle for a brief few weeks. Then, there was a surprise immediate opening at the assembly line plant that his uncle was owner of. Most of the guys that worked at the shop were lifers, but this man mysteriously needed to leave town quickly, and Tristan was given the job without even having to go through the interview process.

He wasn’t fucking stupid; Tristan knew that his Uncle Morgan had “created” a job for him amongst the huge unemployment boom all over the United States, just so that he would be able to support himself. It wasn’t a secret that his uncle thought that Tristan was a nuisance and most of the time treated him like he was just an annoying fly that needed to be swatted.

Living paycheck to paycheck was a fucked up way to live, Tristan decided immediately, so he accepted his uncle’s offer to get involved with some of the more colorful practices Morgan participated in. All Tristan usually had to do was pick up a package, or drive to the airport and hand off some parcel. Everything had to be done without question, and he needed to pretend like he was invisible.

Tristan was mainly used as a driver for different projects that he honestly had very little knowledge of the real reason behind. He didn’t care either; as long as his uncle put extra cash in his hand at the end of the week, in addition to his regular paycheck, he could care less what he was doing. As long as it didn’t involve hurting or killing anybody, of course. There were lines that he wouldn’t cross, even for money.

After what seemed like days, Tristan finally caught site of his lucky prize, kneeling gracefully in the alcove next to the back door. Valerie was a shorthaired brunette, with a slight frame who looked like she barely weighed a hundred pounds dripping wet. When they met that morning, she had quietly asked what “Sir” preferred she wear for the evening. The question completely caught Tristan off guard, but he had no frame of reference at that point for what she SHOULD wear or what she was ALLOWED to wear. He casually answered, “I’m fine with whatever you normally wear, honey. Surprise me.”

God damn it, was he ever surprised. The little minx was wearing next to nothing…just a simple red bra and matching panties. She was waiting for him on her knees, so that was about as much as Tristan could make out this far across the room.

Not wanting to make her wait any longer, Tristan headed her way and was surprised when Valerie didn’t make any move to greet him. He was standing directly in front of her and knew that she was aware he was there. The only noticeable movement he could see was she straightened her back a bit, and her chest was rising and falling faster than before.

“Good evening, Valerie. I do like the simplicity you went for with your outfit. Very nice.”

Tristan lowered himself so that he was crouched down in front of her and tipped her chin up with his fingers. He was listening when Chris and Dominic lectured him all afternoon and knew that Valerie was very obedient, but he didn’t realize to what extent that meant. Apparently, it meant that she wouldn’t say anything or do anything unless instructed to.

“Let’s go sit together for a few minutes and talk before we get started. Okay?”

Valerie’s pale blue eyes sparkled in the overhead lights of the club, and she only nodded once before she rocked back on her heels and gracefully rose off the floor. Tristan’s breath caught in his throat when he caught sight of the rest of her near-naked body. She was a tiny thing, with a darker skin coloring, and curves in all the right places. Most of her lower half was covered in an assortment of tattoos, all the way down to a few scattered butterflies on the tops of her feet. Her left arm shoulder had the beginnings of a sleeve tattoo and looked like it was in mid-process, with just the outline done on the lower half.

The pair made it over to the whip station, but instead of entering the long, closed off space, Tristan led her to a set of chairs nearby. He sat down and had to keep from rolling his eyes when Valerie knelt at his feet. “I would rather that you sit in the chair next to me, and look at me with your pretty blue eyes, honey.”

This part of the gig really wasn’t his thing…he loved the possibilities of the adrenaline rush that was sure to come from recreating the sensations he’d felt himself earlier in the day. Especially on a female that was cute and sexy as hell. On one that would love nothing more than for Tristan to overload her senses and then fuck her silly. But, he still saw her as a person, someone he wanted to connect with. Just because Tristan was habitually a loner, didn’t mean that he didn’t know how to have more than a physical relationship with someone. Just more often than not, he chose not to. The quick and easy fuck was fun too, but bored him to tears. Hence, why he was here in the first place.

Valerie’s expression didn’t change as she rose from the floor and gingerly sat in the chair next to him, crossing her hands in her lap. “Sorry, Sir.”

Tristan laughed, “Honey, don’t be sorry. I may be new to the public aspect of this, but I know that you and I make our own rules, and I don’t want you to kneel at my feet like a dog.” He reached across and pulled one of her hands out of her lap and sensually brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “I want to ask you some questions before we get started. Is that okay?”