“Yes, Mistress.”
She doesn’t say anything but continues with her expert whipping, and by the time she finishes, there’s enough blood I can barely make out the design, but it’s there. It looks like a crest of some sort, made up of lashings of various depths, and I remind myself to ask her what the design was when we’re done here.
She and Riley share a loaded look, and both take their mics off before she gently helps him off the cross and presses a kiss to his forehead. The applause is deafening as they exit, and praise for both Mila’s skill and Riley’s endurance are all around me.
“She’s so lucky to have found a submissive who can take so much.”
“Everyone thinks they’re a masochist these days until they meet a real painslut. That was incredible.”
“It’s impossible to find someone who’s that good with a whip these days.”
“Nobody really enjoys the whip or the cane anymore. All my partner wants is the flogger, which is fine, but where’s the real pain, you know?”
“Hey!”
I startle for the second time this evening as Mila approaches me, much sooner than I expected.
“Uh, hi. Shouldn’t you still be with Riley?” I really hadn’t thought she’d be finished with his aftercare for at least another thirty minutes.
She rolls her eyes, leaning heavily against the wall and sipping from a water bottle. Her wrist is in a brace, and I wonder if she hurt it with the whip? That’s her dominant hand. If her carpal tunnel is acting up and her trigger finger is slow, that could be so fucking dangerous.
“His Master is with him now. He told me before that they probably wouldn’t want me back there, which is fine by me. This was a favor to him anyway, and—”
“What was the design?” It’s a testament to the energy the scene took out of Mila that she doesn’t censure me for the interruption.
“It’s their wedding crest. It’s a whole thing, but they’re getting married soon, and had a crest made with their initials. They’re building a house and putting it on everything. As soon as Riley approached me and his fiancé showed me the image, I knew it wouldn’t be too hard. Fucking wrist…”
She polishes off her water as I think about the blood she drew from Riley and the gleam in her eye just from holding the whip in her hand. It looked like she was meting out justice for a dark ruler, exacting pain to discourage anyone else from doing whatever the poor soul she was beating had done.
That’s what she does, though.
It hits me all at once that this might have been the most Mila I’ve ever seen. Ruthless, skilled, deadly…I’m not an idiot. Even if I did the obstacle course and the sparring mats with the guys, I know that’s not what their job is. Their job is loyalty andenforcement, and the penalty for faltering is what I just watched on stage.Worse.For pain, not for pleasure.
I’m not scared of Mila. Never. But if that’s what she needs to truly let go,trulylet off steam…
“You ready to go explore?”
Bright-blue eyes beckon me from my thoughts, and I follow.
Like I always will.
Chapter 31
Last night’s exhibitionwas boring. When I agreed to perform with Riley, I expected to enjoy it at least a little. I used to get such a high putting on a show, and the two of us have had our fair share of performances. We’ve always had great chemistry, and demonstration requests flooded in from every club we attended.
As forgettable as it was for me, Riley finished twice, and he and his Master adored the way the crest turned out. I don’t think the crowd caught wind of my lack of enthusiasm, either. We still put on quite the show, with an invitation to perform whenever we would like at either of Rendezvous’ locations. I politely accepted the invitation, but I have no intention of taking them up on their offer. My time is limited, and I only follow through with plans that benefit me.
Plans like the one I originally had with Thatcher.
I would have much rather been up on that stage with him. I would’ve rather been on any of their floors with him, for that matter. We had the rest of the night to play, but after my exhibition with Riley, Thatcher was…different.
He said he was fine, and we played a bit with a new Shibari rope at an exhibit, but something was off. He deflated after my performance. I wanted to force the truth out of him, but he was such a good boy for me all evening that I never had the chance.
I would’ve brought it up this morning, but he was back to himself. He had to leave for a team workout, but woke up early and made me breakfast before he left. This time, one suitable for a human and rich in protein. Our conversation, his mannerisms, his humor—it was all normal. I’ve spent my entire life learning how to read people, and it really was like a light switch.
I’m sure it was just the shock of watching me with another person. We aren’t in a relationship, but we are still involved to a certain degree. Sometimes one may think they are okay seeing their partner with someone else, but watching it is an entirely different ball game. Which is fine. One of the most important aspects of an arrangement like ours is honesty and comfort.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this? The guys can be a lot sometimes.” Thatcher reaches across the back seat to take my hand.
