Mistress of Redemption (15 page)

pressed you to your knees, her eyes

full of you, her soul open. Every eye

turned to watch, sensing that

something important was about to

happen, something worth watching.

She laid her hand on your shoulder,

caressed your nape with her fingers.

Whispered, ‘I love you’.”

He knew what was coming, but he

couldn’t look away from the dark

truth in Dona’s gaze. “You looked up

at her a full moment without saying

anything. Slowly, the eyes she’d

always seen focused on her in

adoration and obedience transformed

to an 58

Mistress of Redemption

expression of triumph and scorn. You

spat in her face, laughed at her. Then

you rose and left her there on the

floor by herself.”

Dona’s eyes glittered, her lips

thinning.

“So dance.”

A sharp barb stung his flank. Nathan

spun as much as he was able to do

so.

Another Mistress stood on the outer

edges, tall, an Amazon. Her female

submissive crouched at her feet,

watching him and Dona. She wore a

collar and leash the Amazon held in

her free hand. That leash had a

second chain that connected to a

navel and clit piercing revealed by

her transparent body stocking. The

arrangement would give the big

woman a similar control over her sub

to that which Dona had over him.

The Amazon had struck him with a

long buggy whip. As he turned, she

did it again, stinging his erection.

He cried out from the pain. Dona

brought a whip she now had in her

right hand into play, striking his thigh

so he shifted it, pulling on the other

side of his leash so he hopped that

way. He spun as the other Mistress

struck him again. He was dancing

like a puppet between them, the artful

tugs of the cock tether and skillful

placement of the whips making him

perform a lurching shuffle, awkward

with his arms bound. Those

surrounding jeered at him while

eyeing his stiff cock appreciatively

and making crude comments.

Punishment from a Mistress, from

Dona, he could take. This was

different. He was horrified to feel

tears stinging his eyes. Blinking them

back, he kept up the dance.

You’re not supposed to betray those

you love.

But you betrayed those who loved

you…

His gaze rose, despite his intense

desire to keep his eyes down. In the

crowd, waiting for him, he saw all of

his past Mistresses, almost a full

dozen.

Narcissa, Lady Jane, Melinda…even

the murderess who had put him here,

though he tried not to look at her.

Every one of them was there…except

Lauren. All beautiful women, well-

cared for, self-assured.

The shadows of his past haunting

him. They were not jeering. While he

wondered why Lauren was missing,

he was grateful that she was, for all

of them just stared at him silently

with the expressions they’d had when

he had shown them his true face. His

moment of victory. That moment that

said, “You thought you had my love. I

never needed you. I’ll never depend

on any of you. You’ll never make me

a fool.”

They spun around him as if he was

the fulcrum of a merry-go-round that

had gotten knocked off its pin,

lurching him in a spiraling motion he

couldn’t predict. His throat was tight,

his chest aching, and he didn’t know

why.

Pain is a mirror. You weren’t

content until everything was a

mirror of your own pain.

He was beyond questioning how

Dona could speak in his head as

easily as he could talk to her with his

lips. He tried to turn away, but they

were on all sides, backing him into

the center of the circle again.

59

Joey W. Hill

Why did you do it, Jonathan?

What’s the face in the mirror? The

final one, behind
everything else?

“Stop.” He shouted it, trying to get

away from those faces and find Dona.

She had to be at the end of the leash,

but he couldn’t see her. A crowd of

strangers pressed in on him now,

invasive hands on his cock, his ass,

playing with the nipple rings. A

tongue at his scrotum, fingers pushing

between his buttocks as his legs were

held by multiple hands. Lifting him

up like a rag doll with no control of

his own actions. Goading his lust and

his fear as he struggled, his body

vibrating toward an orgasm that he

didn’t want, a violation like rape.

“Dona, please…”

Stripped, nowhere to hide…you’ve

been there before. Why did you

forget what it was like?

Why would you do this to someone

else?

“You’re not supposed to do this to

me!” He screamed into the roar of

club noise which swallowed his

protest like a monstrous beast,

making it insignificant. Not even a

whisper among the din. “You’re not

supposed to do this to me…”
Not to

someone you
love.

You’re so right. So why did you?

With each of them, a part of him had

craved something he couldn’t dare to

want. It had gotten worse and worse

with each game, each Mistress. He

felt it now, looking at them.

But what about Mistress Lauren?

Why isn’t she there?
Dona’s voice,

mocking him.

You’re controlling this. You should

know.
He shot the thought back to her resentfully.

Desperately.
I don’t want to talk

about Lauren.

We will. Not now, but we will. You

felt something for all of your

Mistresses, but especially
her,

because she reminded you of

someone…

“No, stop it!” He started to struggle

and kick, fighting the hands on him,

not caring who he struck, just so long

as they let go. It was futile. The more

he convulsed in their grip, the greater

their laughter and cruelty became.

Their hands became more brutal,

stretching him, thrusting, pinching.

His upper body was dropped so his

legs were higher in the air, allowing

someone’s tongue to tease his anus

behind, his cock in front.

At eye level he saw a man’s cock

approaching, enormous and adorned

with a spiked shield piercing, sharp

metal tips that would cut when the

organ was thrust brutally into a

vulnerable mouth. Despite all of

these frightening things, nothing was

worse than that laughter. He needed

the laughter to stop.

Surrender. Just surrender.

Not to them. Never. Not to anyone…

Even me, your true Mistress? The

one who knows who you are,

everything that lies within
your

heart? Every hope you’ve had, every

dream you’ve destroyed because

you didn’t dare to
believe in hope?

Her words wove around him like a

net, inexorably immobilizing his

limbs, taking away his will to fight.

Surrender…

60

Mistress of Redemption

Surrender to his Mistress. He could

do that, couldn’t he? He knew there

were reasons not to do so, but he

didn’t want to hear those voices. It

didn’t matter anymore.

They could defile him and it would

mean nothing. He was nothing. Going

limp in all those hands, he let them

do what they would. He was just an

object anyway. Something nobody

wanted, even himself. It was an

unexpected thought, but as that huge

dick came toward him, the acrid

smell of bloodstained metal

approaching his lips, it all made

sense.

There you are. Nathan. That’s who I

want. Not Jonathan
.

The others melted away, returning to

their couplings and dancing. He was

standing again and Dona was there.

Cupping her hands around his bound

forearms at the small of his back, she

pressed herself to him. Her hips,

lower abdomen and pubic mound

were against his arousal. Her thighs

caressed the sensitive tip, the

movement of her body sliding the D-

ring back and forth.

“Dance with me.”

This he could do. Sway with her, let

her grip steady and guide him as she

shifted her weight to a poignant song.

The lead singer crooning that he

wanted to kiss the eyelids of his

sleeping lover and never leave the

world of dreams with her. He didn’t

want it to end.

Of course. Only Aerosmith could

provide the proper soundtrack for

Hell.

“Just dance with me. Don’t think.”

His Mistresses’ faces still stared at

him from among the crowd around

them. Their eyes were everywhere

the strobe lights were, eyes glowing

in the dark.

Dona’s palms caressed the upper

curve of his buttocks. He dipped his

head, pressing his face against her

hair. “There are so many of them,”

she observed in a whisper. He

squeezed his eyes shut, but the words

kept coming. He wished he could

touch her, but she had everything. The

right to touch him, cup him as she did

now, bringing one hand between them

to arouse him even as she punished

him with her voice. “In the end, you

wanted the next one even before you

were done with the previous

Mistress. You were getting

desperate, too hungry. So at last you

chose a Mistress who could destroy

you. Put an end to your hunger.”

The S&M Killer had been described

that way. The bloodlust driving her

mad so she took her victims faster

and faster, until she made the fatal

step. He shook his head, tried to pull

back, but the cock leash and Dona

held him fast. “No. I wasn’t like her.”

“In that way, you were. See your

Mistresses another way. Open the

eyes of your soul like a newborn.

Have the bravery of an infant to face

the reality with no blinders on to

protect yourself. I know you can. I

know you have courage.”

Because she believed he could, he

found himself raising his head, lifting

his nose from her hair to look at

them. They were illuminated in the

crowd, motionless among the many

gyrating bodies so he could not miss

them. Silent, accusatory statues.

Compassionate women who had

loved him, sexy Mistresses confident

in their power 61

Joey W. Hill

who never expected his intention was

to shred and throw their love back

into their faces.

No, he didn’t want these thoughts.

These weren’t his. That wasn’t how

it was. They had malice in them, they

all did. If he hadn’t done it to them,

they’d have done it to him.

Eventually.

His gaze flicked down so he could

stare into Dona’s face. Desperately

he sought it, that trace of deception he

saw lurking in every woman’s eyes.

Her eyes, dark and mysterious, were

capable of hiding everything. But as

they looked back into his, all he felt

was confusion clouding what he’d

always believed to be true.

Another body pressed against his

back. Two hands slid up his thighs,

teasing the muscles and the curve of

his buttocks. Aliyah and her snake.

“How long does this go on?” He

couldn’t stop himself from asking the

child’s question.

“Until I say so. Until you figure it

out.” Dona answered the question as

Aliyah’s hands caressed his biceps.

Dona palmed the broadness of his

back. The snake woman’s purr of

pleasure and warm breath were

against his spine.

“You can’t fool me,” his Mistress

whispered. “You can’t run.” Her

fingers crept up to his nape as

Aliyah’s lips pressed just below that

portion of his skin. Their bodies held

him between them, soft, generous

curves of breast, hip and the lengths

of their thighs against him. The strain

on the piercings as his large erection

increased proportionately made his

head light, just as Dona had

predicted. He tried to look away

from the knowledge in Dona’s face,

but he couldn’t.

“You thought you discovered the

ultimate game preserve in the BDSM

scene.

Mistresses who have the audacity to

bring a man to his knees willingly,

for his own pleasure and theirs. You

thought you were the hunter, but we

both know there was more than that

going on, don’t we?” She rubbed her

thighs against him, captured his cock

between them and let him feel the