The Art of Control (20 page)

“What are you thinking about, little dove?” Luke asks as if penetrating my thoughts.

How is it that all Doms can do that?
“The bullwhip calls to me and I wish I were the one being whipped right now. I yearn for the feeling of the leather against my skin again and to submit to it,” I confess.

“Why do you say such things to me? Have you no ide
a what they do to me?” he asks, grinding his rigidness into my bottom.

I take a deep breath and blow it out
, and focus on Dylan and not the lusty sound of Luke’s voice lingering in my ear and the feeling of his unwelcome cock pressed into me.

“Focus, Luke. Again,” I state sternly, letting Mistress Isabel
take over and putting Luke back in his place.

“Yes, Mistress,” he
replies, backing off.

Enough of this.
I am powerful.
Right here, at this moment,
I am the one in control
. Even though Luke is guiding me, I am the one holding the whip. One wrong movement from me and Luke’s strong hands can’t stop me. We step back and lay the whip across Dylan’s chest again with solid unyielding strokes, the sound of the leather reverberating in the small staged area. Dylan’s stiff member can be seen through his briefs giving away his arousal and excitement, in turn making my pussy pulse with need. My heart begins to beat rapidly out of sync with Luke’s.

Doing as Dylan instructed, I allow myself to embrace t
he control that he has granted me and I submerge myself in the scene. Everything and everyone except Dylan and I fades away, including Luke. It’s my turn to take over as I move behind Dylan, guiding Luke. With Luke’s hand still firmly over mine, I bring the whip up and lightly flick Dylan’s back, his wrists wrenching against the restraints. The sound of the metal clinking, the chains overhead jangling and his rapid breathing are spellbinding and I feel my own wetness run down my inner thigh.  Too mesmerized by the beautiful tiger stripes I’ve lashed onto his back and shoulders, I lose count of the number of whips we’ve laid across Dylan’s body.  I move around to the front again so I can see the brilliant man before me and his eyes widen as I bring the bullwhip up again, careful to aim the leather away from his knife wound, and flit the cowhide across his heart, marking my territory. He looks so compliant and vulnerable, so trusting of me, it takes every bit of strength I have not to ravish him. He moans out and throws his head back, his muscles tensing and contracting. It’s then that I realize Luke is standing several feet behind me. I was the one in control of my movements for the last several lashings. It was all me.
I really was in control.

Dylan’s cock is rock hard and I drop the whip
to the floor, the loud thud echoing through the room and fall to my knees, tearing at his briefs and shredding them and throwing them to the side. I go down on him, opening my throat and pulling him all the way into my mouth by his hips. I pull away from him and jerk him off and wrap my mouth around him again, but when I feel his shaft pulsate in my mouth, I stop just shy of letting him climax. I stand and bite into the tender and salty flesh above his heart, drawing blood. A slow crimson river runs down his chest and pools in his navel. I slither my tongue slowly down the trail of blood and dip my tongue in his belly button, lapping up my sweet lover’s DNA and relishing in the forbidden taste.

Circling my tongue around in his navel making sure to get
every last drop of his sanguine tapas, I look up at him. His eyes are smoldering as he watches me with the most heated look to ever grace his gorgeous face. His mouth is parted and he’s panting wildly, his tongue poking out to slick his upper lip.
I want that tongue.
I quickly rise to my feet and grab his face, trying to snatch his tongue before it disappears back into his mouth.

“Give it to me.”

I breathe my demand into his mouth and he instinctively pushes his tongue past my lips and caresses the roof of my mouth. I suck at it maniacally and he thrusts his hips forward.

I lower myself again and take him into my mouth, giving him the release
that he has earned. A few short moments later, Dylan grunts loudly and the thick, warm saltiness of his essence runs down the back of my throat.

I wrap my arms around Dylan’s neck and latch onto him, not wanting to let go of this
wonderful, compassionate and bighearted man who is my husband.

“
I love you and no one else matters in this world but you,” I repeat over and over while Luke unshackles him. As soon as his hands are freed he lifts me into his arms, despite his weakness and exhaustion, and he holds me tightly.

“Thank you
for surrendering to me, Master,” I coo into his ear. Luke reaches down and loosens his ankles and we stumble to the resting area where we wrap our limbs around each other. Luke places a blanket over the both of us, shielding our eyes from the light and we kiss under the darkness of the soft cover, our hearts beating in harmony.

Dylan

“Sing to me,” I breathe into Isa’s ear and without a second thought her melodic and angelic voice fills my ears to the tune of
Sweet Disposition. My body begins to shake from the endorphin rush wearing off and it’s a strange and unfamiliar feeling. My body aches with a deep satisfying pain that starts in my back, encircles my entire torso and settles over my heart. Isa cradles and kisses my welted and searing hot chest, and I feel safe and warm for the first time since my mother held me. It’s comforting beyond anything I’ve ever known. Her smell is exhilarating and her voice is lulling me to somewhere otherworldly. I feel weightless and I close my eyes, drifting off into subspace - for how long, I don’t know.

When I open my eyes, Isa is watching me and touching my face.

“Welcome back, my sweet lover. You were gone a long time.”

“Was I?” I ask, still
bleary.

She nods
yes
and smiles thoughtfully. “Did you float far away? Up into the clouds?”

“Something
like that,” I stutter out.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? The feeling of complete surrender and what comes after?”

I couldn’t have said it any better. I try to voice my sentiments but my mouth isn’t working quite yet. I open it, but all that comes out is a pathetic garble of syllables.

Isa puts her hand over my mouth and
shushes me, “Don’t try and talk, it’s useless. Just give yourself a moment, my perfect boy.”

Me? Perfect?
I think not. Christ, Isa looks heavenly.
Why the hell won’t my mouth cooperate?

“You know, while you’re unable to speak, now would be the perfect time for me to tell you all of the depraved things I want to do to y
ou as well as all of the times you’ve irritated my wild hair,” Isa says playfully and grinning evilly at me. “I mean, if I were that kind of person. But since I’m not, and because I’m so kind and wonderful, I’ll just let you recuperate while I sit here quietly. No, wait. That’s damn near impossible for me to do so I’ll just say it while I have the chance. Okay, here it goes: I love you more than life itself, Dylan Nathaniel Young. I love you more than I love myself, in fact. I love you because you’re so generous and kind to me, and because you give me the discipline I need, when I need it, and without cruelty or anger, and because you give me control despite your need for it. Oh, sugar, I could go on and on…” she sighs.

My faculties are finally starting to return and I catch Isa by surprise by pulling her down to me.

“Go on then,” I’m able to mumble.

She laughs and continues to praise me.
After Isa’s many words of love and kindness, she uncovers us and dresses me. I sit up and stretch out, feeling as if I’ve been in a deep slumber for days. Luke meanders over, kneels next to me and places a hand on my shoulder, but never taking his eyes off of my comely wife.

“Do you like what you see?” I ask Luke.

He breaks his gaze and gives me an impish and guilty grin.

“Yes, Master Young, I do. You have quite an interesting little pet. It seems she has a talent for the
bullwhip, both in yielding to it and wielding it. Not many women her size can master the whip, but I believe with the proper training, she’s well on her way to becoming a master at it. May I suggest you not let that talent go to waste?”

I look over to Isa who is blushing wildly. Both Luke and I burst into laughter as Mistress Isabel visibly shrinks away and is replaced by submissive Isa.

“A true switch,” Luke chuckles, speaking my thoughts.

The next hour is spent recuperating on m
y part. I can see Isa wants Luke to work his magic on her with the bullwhip again, so I permit her one last scene before we bid adieu to Luke and Paris, knowing that this will be our final glorious night in Europe. I’ve tried to put what Anderson said out of my head, but his words keep making their way into the forefront of my mind. It pisses me off that our honeymoon has to be cut short because of Isa’s selfish father and his actions. Anderson was holding something back and I should’ve beat him senseless for not telling me everything. I just need to speak with Sawyer. Come to think of it, it’s a little odd he hasn’t called me back.

My thoughts are interrupted by Isa tugging at my jacket to go and watch over her scene with Luke. 

“I would like you to join in, too, Master,” she requests.

Who am I to deny my masochistic
wife?

“Yes, of course. The cat o’nin
e does sound enticing right now. Can you handle both the bullwhip and the cat in one session?”

“Maybe.
I’d like to try, with your permission.”

“You’ll be hurting for the next several days. Are you sure you’re up for it?” I ask, hoping she says yes. My
inner sadist is itching to come out. I haven’t flogged her for at least a few weeks and I’d give anything to see her soft pale skin burn scarlet red right now.

“Master, your eyes, too, tell me everything I need to know. I want to
be pleasing to you and to be reminded of your love for me and hurt for days. So yes, Sir, I’m up for it.”

Fuck yes.

***

Sawyer

This is a public relations nightmare. Thankfully, Young and Isabel aren’t here to endure this bullshit. Their images are plastered on every newspaper and the video has started circulating the internet.  Young always wanted to make national news, but not like this.

I could kill her father for having put Isabel through
the humiliation of this. Their sexual fetishes and likes are no one’s God damned business. They’re not hurting anyone. So what if they’re kinky? They’re in love for fuck’s sake. They’re good people.

I have the information I need to get the ball rolling regarding Simons. He should be back in Atlanta in the next eight hours. I’ll just have to pay him a little visit and get things straightened out. I still haven’t quite decided on my plan of attack.
To kill or not to kill, that is the question
. Perhaps I’ll just maim him - provide him with a lifetime limp. That would be better in the long run for Dylan. It might seem a bit suspicious having Alex die under questionable circumstances and then a cohort of her father’s.

I dial Murphy’s number and invite him along.
Two is always better than one when it comes to this sort of thing.

Looking at my phone, I realize I’ve missed several calls from Young. I can’t speak with him right now. I’m terrible at trying to keep the truth from him and he’s too good at reading voice stress, so our conversation will just have to wait. I listen to the voice message he left and my heart sinks. He’s coming back tomorrow.
So much for dealing with Simons before Young gets back
. I listen further to hear that Isabel’s father sent an ex-boyfriend out there to try and fuck with their honeymoon. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with that man? Isabel is his flesh and blood for fuck’s sake. I’m glad to hear Young beat his ass. I jot his name down in order to follow Young’s instructions on doing a thorough background check on him.

There’s no point in prolonging the inevitable
, I need to call Young and tell him the situation before his plane lands and the onslaught of paparazzi inundates him and Isabel.
Damn it to hell.

I dial Young’s number an
d wait for the verbal ass kicking.

After only one ring, Young picks up. “Where the hell have you been?”
he asks. There are strange sounds in the background, noises that aren’t completely unfamiliar. They match the same kinky din that I’ve heard at Isa and his local hangout.

“It’s good to hear your voice, too,” I answer trying to lighten his mood
and push the mental image of him whipping Isabel out of my head, but he remains silent on the other end. Shit. There’s no point in putting this off. I swallow hard and lay the bad news on him. “Okay, Young, listen up: I’ve been avoiding you because I’ve been dealing with the shit that’s going down over here.”

“Such as?”
Dylan asks, his voice perking up.

“Isabel’s father released the videos of you and her. They’re all over the fucking news.”

Let the shit storm begin
.

Young remains silent which means i
t’s even worse than I thought. I sigh loudly, knowing exactly what look is on his face right now: Eyes dark, jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed, and hatred and anger seeping out of every pore in his body.

“That’s not all. The man who att
acked you works for Mr. Ibanez.”

“How long have you known this and when did the videos get leaked?”

“Four days ago.”

“What the fuck, Sawyer?” he half yells.

“Listen, I didn’t want to ruin your birthday or your honeymoon so save me the ass chewing, okay? There’s not a God damned thing you could’ve done here that I haven’t already done, so stow it,” I snap back.

Young sighs loudly. “You’re fucking right. I hate it, but you’re right.
Fucking hell.”

Shit. That’s a first.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” he says, sounding disheartened.

“Why? Just stay there a
few more days until things settle down a bit more.”

“No. I’m not going to get any rest now anyway. I had planned on leaving tomorrow after what Anderson told me about Isa’s father. Christ, this is such a load of shit. I’m sick of this crap. Sick of it!” he says loudly. “So how bad is the PR?”

“Do you really want to know?” I ask, dubiously.

“Just lay it out, already. I can’t wait until tomorrow to hear the worst of it.”

“Well, on the up and downside, you made national headlines.”

“Nice. I assume you called everyone who needed calling, including our PR people or why else would they not have called me and informed me of the situation?”

“You got it. I called everyone and sent out a mass email. I’m definitely not cut out for the lead man position. Your job as the CEO is not something I envy.”

Young chuckles.

“Seriously, Young, everything
workwise is fine. We haven’t lost one single account over this miasma. Your work ethic stands on its own.”

“Thanks, Sawyer. How the hell am I going to tell Isa? She’s been so fragile since we’ve been here. Then the whole thing with Anderson and now this?”

“You’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I have plans of my own on how to deal with Simons.” I tell him.

“No! You wait until we get back. I mean it, Sawyer. We need to go over things more closely.”

“Back off, Young, this is my area of expertise, so let me do what I know.”

“I fucking mean it, Morrison
. Just wait until we get back. That’s
not
a request,” he says firmly.

“Whatever
you say, boss man,” I say just before I hang up.

Yes, I’ll wait until he arrives, but it’s not going to stop me from doing some checking up on our nemesis, Mr. Ibanez, his low-life cohort, Simons, and the cowardly
lion cub known as Anderson Hayes. It seems to me there needs to be fresh ass whoopings handed out in abundance and I’m just the man to dole it out. My blood hums with adrenaline wanting to dish out some justice the good old-fashioned way. Just as my mind starts to race with thoughts on how to achieve my goal, my phone rings out with Sonya’s tune. What a total buzz kill. I push malicious Sawyer to the wayside and answer the phone.

“Mr. Morrison, I’d like to see you sometime this week,” she says mildly irritated with me.

“My apologies, I’ve been busy with all the nonsense that’s going on with work.”

“No excuses, please.
I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, I’m just asking for a few hours of your undivided attention. Do you think you can accommodate me or not?”

I do enjoy when she gets feisty. “
Yes, Sonya, I can accommodate you.”

“
Hmph. Mere words, Mr. Morrison. I expect you to be at my place in
exactly
five hours’ time. Just to be clear, that’s 6:00 p.m. mountain time. I mean it, Sawyer. You already stood me up once this week, don’t test me.”

Her words are fierce, but her tone is charming, making my loins ache to be inside of her.

“Yes, Sonya, as you wish.”

***

Isabel

I
awaken from my subspace siesta to see Dylan and Luke watching me with the same possessive and caring looks they were giving me just a few days ago. The aftereffects of the bullwhip and cat are claiming me completely, my body aching with an intensity I’ve not yet known. Lying on my stomach, Luke hands Dylan some cream and he gently rubs it over my shoulder blades and upper thighs. The heat from Dylan’s hands feels both torturous and delightful.

“Do you know much I love you?” he tells me.

Something in his voice is signaling something’s amiss.

“No, tell me,” I prod.

The corners of his mouth turn up, but his smile dissipates quickly.