Truth or Dare; The Dominator II (9 page)

He gave me a small sad smile and put his hand on my face again. God, when he did that it gave me shivers.

“So, we’re taking a walk, I take it?” He smiled at me and then lifted a lock of my hair and examined it.

“Much better wild,” he said.

I smiled, sort of surprised, “I wore both. So whatever pleases you, Master.”

“I’ll change. We’ll do both.”

I was glad he wanted to walk rather than take me to a public area here. I was also glad for the physical contact. It helped me put things into context. Him telling me he was pleased, touching me, it helped me be who I needed to be. It’d be nice to again get as far away from the building as possible. Our walk last night was the farthest I’d been from the building since arriving here. And if I didn’t screw it up tomorrow I’d be on a plane. A plane away from here. My heart wanted to leap with joy and hope. It didn’t. It knew better.

He stepped back inside and I followed. I watched him grab a few articles of clothing from the closet and head to the bathroom. A few minutes later he emerged in a pair of navy blue board shorts and a tan tank top and brown leather thong flip flops. He looked gorgeous. I could practically count his abs, which I already knew from earlier were an 8-pack, through his tight shirt. His arms were cut, chiseled, inkless, beautiful. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses from his bag in the closet and took my hand and we were off. His hand was warm, strong. I felt twinges in my nipples.

When we were as far away from the buildings as we could get before hitting the fence line he sat on the sand just near the shore, put his feet in the water, and patted beside himself. I sat.

“We’re leaving right after breakfast in the morning,” he said and for the first time since he got here I think his face held no anger. He was beautiful.

I nodded, feeling my heart swell. The breeze blew my hair into my face so I pushed it out of the way and the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t help it but I think I dared to actually hope a little.

“Tonight they’re insisting I attend a dinner and I don’t want you at my feet but it’s what they expect. And I don’t feel good about leaving you in the room alone for that length of time.” The anger crept back over his features.

I nodded, thrilled that being at his feet was not something he’d expect going forward but feeling cautious at his expression.

“I get the impression it might get …” his face went sour, “sordid.”

I nodded, totally confused. Of course it would get sordid. It usually did. Wasn’t that why he was here? I mean, some of the patrons were more exhibitionists and voyeurs than others, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for me to attend to someone who was more private about their sexuality but with him being a partner’s son I guess I was a little surprised that this didn’t seem to be all second nature to him.

“Has it been terrible?” He took my hand and rubbed his fingertips across the back of it.

I opened my mouth and wasn’t sure how to answer from my heart because I hadn’t allowed myself the luxury of digging in there in a long long time and didn’t dare go there now for fear doing that would screw this up for me so I said, “If I get to leave with you at the end of it, I’d do it again.”

He frowned at me and then shook his head. His eyes were the color of the sea. He had a handsome strong jawline, a perfect nose. His shoulders were large and muscular. And his hair looked soft; it was in his eyes a little. I ached to touch it, to brush it away from his eyes with my fingers. I couldn’t cross that line, though. I looked away, needing to guard my emotions so just stared out at the water but could feel that his eyes stayed on me.

“Build a sandcastle with me,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

I was speechless.

“C’mon,” he gave me a little smile and plopped his sunglasses on and then got onto his knees and started pulling wet sand toward us into a mound.

I was like a deer in the headlights.

“You gonna help or what?” he flashed a big smile and I think my heart stopped.

“I… I don’t know how.”

“I’ll be back. Wait here,” he said and took off jogging toward the grounds where he stopped one of the gardeners.  I sat, flabbergasted. I was still in his sights but we were far apart. It was weird to be sitting here in the sand alone. I’d never been so far away from a handler or patron. It felt weird and not in a good way. I felt vulnerable, at risk. I felt like I was gonna climb out of my own skin. His shoes were in the sand beside me. I stared at them, focusing,
his shoes are here so he’ll be back. He’ll come back.
I clutched my bare throat and took slow breath after slow breath.

Thankfully a minute later he
was
back.

“I’ll take the lead.” He pulled me by the wrist until I was on my knees and I mimicked him, started pulling mud toward the mound.

“That gardener is getting me some tools. Let’s see what we can do.” He gave me another little smile. He had bright white straight teeth, gorgeous full lips.

I wondered what it’d be like to kiss him. Some patrons loved to kiss. Some had been quite skilled at it. Some, not so much. Some were downright sloppy and gross. But until right now I’d never looked forward to a kiss since being here. I was hoping my Master was a kisser and hoping he was good at it. This might be the only man I’d ever kiss again.

Dare

I needed to do something with my hands. I wasn’t the type to sit around idle and there wasn’t anything to do in this place, this place of excess, sick and twisted fuckin’ hedonism. The resort had activities but most of it was either sex-centered or at least stomach-turning from what I’d seen on my tour because guests had women in collars on the floor beside them or whatever while on the treadmill or playing cards or whatever. I didn’t want around those sick fucks and I didn’t want her alone in that room, why I don’t know, but I just didn’t. I felt protective of her, that it wasn’t just my mission to come here and suss things out but that it’d become my mission to get her away from them, get her and I outta here without a hitch.

The tour had turned my stomach and I couldn’t let it show. I didn’t. I wanted to go for a run but not on the treadmill, on the beach. The property was fenced so that wasn’t much of an option other than running back and forth on the limited amount of fenced property so instead I poured my energy into building a sandcastle with my hands. Because if I didn’t find something to busy myself I was afraid I was gonna snap.

The tour had shown all the things the guests see. The spa, the movie theatre, the performance theatre, dining room, games areas, lounges, bowling alley and arcade. It was early but there were guests mulling about. Some slaves were nude, some were leashed, there was nothing sexual going on in public areas. But as a new partner in the company I was also shown behind the scenes. Gan Chen and Rafe Ruiz showed me their intake rooms and there was training in progress. I saw that Asian woman backhand that tiny blonde nude girl who was in the office last night with them for incorrect posture as part of the training process was explained to me. The Asian woman didn’t know we were watching so I wasn’t getting a show, this was how she handled trainees. The idea of her backhanding Felicia that way? I was furious at that idea.

I’d seen tables and benches outfitted with shackles and cuffs. I’d seen St. Andrews crosses. I’d seen dungeon rooms that looked like filthy shower stalls with a rusty drain on the floor where they kept slaves being punished or during their ‘breaking’. The Hole from prison movies where people were held in solitary confinement for misbehaving consisted of better digs than that. When I saw those things I saw them hurting her in my mind and it made me boiling fucking mad.

I also saw lavish suites that were designed to hold entire harems, suites that had themes, some of them pretty kinky and some of them pretty fucking sick. I could see that their girls could see that they could live in a filthy moldy shower stall with no light or in a palatial suite if they did what they were told and pretended their Master was a Sheikh or assumed roles as little girls with lollipops and pigtails and diapers being given a spanking by their “Daddy”. I was all for people having the right to own their sexuality and had dabbled with some kink myself but consensually. This wasn’t consensual. Collectively, it was all making me sick.

I was told that the club had a couple thousand members, around a dozen of them were higher profile celebrities and the others were very wealthy men and women from around the globe. Members paid exorbitant membership fees and then additional fees when they visited. Some members spent months here at a time. Some came a few weeks every year.  There were 200 on-site slaves, fifteen of them men, the rest women, and three currently in various stages of their training. A new one would be brought in to replace Felicia and I didn’t like that one fucking bit but kept my mouth shut. It had been a few years since anyone had requested marriage material. Then when it was revealed to me who the last customer of a ‘wife’ was it took everything in me to guard my reaction.

I didn’t let them see
any
reactions. I held a cool and standoffish entitled tone with them, as if nothing surprised me, as if I had every right to be a part of this, as if the very idea of everything they stood for was not absolutely abhorrent to me.

Stan Smith had said that some of their women opted for this lifestyle, applied to join, joined up so that they could be looked after. And he told me that most were drafted via dubious methods. To me that meant they were abducted or that they were traded in, much like my brother’s Tia had been drafted into my family as a flesh payment for a debt.

Before my flight our PI told me he couldn’t find a thing about them. He had to search carefully so he wouldn’t raise any red flags but Kruna did not exist as far as he could tell so far. He gave me a verbal list of things he needed intel on from my trip for him to start investigating.  The resort wasn’t even visible on maps online as anything other than vacant wooded waterfront property, which didn’t even jive with the whole private timeshare thing. That told me they had friends in high places.

Oh it existed alright. But I didn’t ask any questions. It was arranged that the following morning Felicia and I would depart. In a little over a month they invited my brother and I here for their annual stakeholder’s meeting. They called it their Partner Summit. The meeting was optional but they wanted one or both of us to attend, if possible.

As far as anyone knew Tommy was on his honeymoon. I didn’t pick up on any suspicions but was being cautious. In the weeks before Pop’s death we were at odds over the direction of the business and due to the reveal of secrets, and I didn’t know if Pop had made any of his associates aware of that rift.  It was unlikely because it would make Pop look weak as a man, a father, and head of a company, but we had to be cautious nonetheless and because of a few legal actions Pop had taken I knew there were records that would look like there was family trouble if someone looked close enough. There was extended family there for a showdown between Tommy & Pop the day he died and while we didn’t doubt loyalty of anyone who’d been present it was possible that word had leaked that there was a rift and if so, there might be suspicion.

Felicia had no clue how to build a sandcastle but she tried to help. The gardener dropped off a pail filled with gardening tools. We didn’t talk, she just watched and tried to help when I was gathering up more sand, tried to mimic my actions.  We worked at it for quite a while and then after I couldn’t fuss with it any longer due to lack of better tools I said, “How about a swim?”

She nodded, staring at the castle with a weird expression on her face. But then pulled her tank top over her head revealing the white bikini halter top. When she got out of her shorts I averted my eyes so I didn’t look at her body too closely. It was hard not to look at her tiny barely there bikini bottoms with ties on the sides. Her tits looked luscious in that halter. Her tiny ass was almost fucking perfect but would be better if she were allowed to eat whatever the fuck she wanted with carbonara sauce on it every day for a few weeks to mean a little more to grab onto. I shook that thought off as I grabbed my shirt from the scruff and pulled it over my head and threw it beside the castle and then sprinted for the water, diving in as soon as it was deep enough. I swam underneath the crystal clear water for a good long while, just using up unused energy and taking the minute I needed to let myself feel the rage I’d been hiding.

Felicia

Tension had built in every single cell of my body. This man was an enigma. I didn’t know what to make of him. I didn’t know what was next for me. I was frightened… I had this horrible sinking feeling that wouldn’t go away.

I didn’t do well with the unknown. I mean, this past almost 2 years of my life had been a lot of unknown but it was formulaic. I never knew what a new assignment would bring but I knew what I had to do to get through it. A to B. It worked.

All that back to back A to B business had brought me to my C. Dario Ferrano was C.

My C.

Eyes like the sea, a beautiful body. He seemed perpetually pissed off but he had been nothing but kind to me since yesterday. Feeding me like I was a starved child that needed nourishment and not taking from my body, even when I begged for it. Waking up in his arms that morning I felt safer than I could ever remember feeling. Even before I got here. He got between me and them and said they weren’t allowed to fuck with me because I was his.
His
.