Page 102 of On His Terms
Bristling at his reaction, she nonetheless followed him.
Once more, she looked around for Master Alexander. He was there, waiting, watching. Though she was grateful for his support, guilt stabbed her as she continued on.
“You with me or with him?” Master Evan C asked.
“With you, Sir. Of course.” She followed Master Evan C down the hallway. The walk reminded her of the first night with Master Alexander. The same set of nerves that had assailed her then gnawed her stomach now.
“Get your clothes off and get your ass on the cross.”
“Uhm…are we going to talk about a safe word?”
“You one of them pussy girls? I thought you wanted to do business with me.”
She looked at him. His eyes were wide, unblinking, calculating.
“I’m not into being abused, Sir, not for anything or anyone.”
“Heard talk about you last time, that you scream so much you need a gag.”
She shuddered.
“Get your clothes off, bitch.”
Chelsea debated what to do. Master Alexander had never spoken to her with this tone or inflection. Evan C was insulting. Before she could speak again, he grabbed her shirt, tugged it over her head and brutally squeezed her right breast.
The sudden assault of pain left her scarcely able to breathe. She grabbed him around the wrist. “Sir, that fucking hurts.”
“What? Your tit’s delicate?” He laughed.
“Please.” She dug her fingernails into his skin. Then she called on all of the training, reminders, prompting that Master Alexander had given her. “Halt.”
“The actual fuck, bitch? I thought you’d been getting some training.”
“Yeah. I have.” He still hadn’t released her, and it was pissing her off. “Enough to know that I don’t want a Dom like you. Let go of me.”
“You’ve been fucking stalking me, begging for this.”
She shook her head. “You’re mistaken. I think you have talent. But that doesn’t mean I’ll put up with your brutality to get a contract. Fuck that.” The more he hurt her, the deeper she dug in her fingernails. “Last warning. Halt.”
“Cock tease.”
She refused to allow his words to goad her. What Master Alexander had said all along was true. Submission was a gift you gave, not something that could be demanded. There was a big difference between submission and a little kink, and an even greater distinction between submission and masochism. Master Evan C was more a sadist than anything, she assumed. And she had no interest in that.
When he didn’t let her go, another realization blindsided her. She’d allowed her career hunger to drive feelings in her personal life. You’re The Star would benefit from having Evan C on their client list. She’d fallen in love with the idea of a partnership with him. Her ambition had blinded her. “Take your goddamn hand off me before I scream the place down.”
Instantly he released her. The pain of the blood rushing back into her breast stole her next breath. Fueled by gritty determination, she snatched up her shirt and pulled it over her head before meeting his eyes. “You have some natural talent. You’ll do well if you don’t allow your reckless behavior to fuck it up.”
“You giving me career advice?”
“Someone needs to. I’ll send a bill.”
“You’re a tough chick.” He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck then strode away.
She exhaled and pressed her hands to her face, pretending her world hadn’t shattered in the last sixty minutes. Everything she’d thought she wanted, hungered for, focused on, no longer mattered.
After she’d stopped shaking, she squared her shoulders and walked back toward the main dungeon.
As she neared Master Alexander, she overheard Master Evan C say, “You did a shitty job of training her.”