Brenden (The Doms and Dommes of New York: Book 2)

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Chapter 3

“Who the fuck is he, Cynthia?”

I was back in my apartment, pacing the living room instead of the sidewalk, my phone to my ear.

“I’m good, Brenden, but I’m not that good. You just asked me to find him yesterday. It takes more than a few hours to find one Theodore in a city of eight and a half million people. Especially with how secret some of those with our inclinations are. I don’t even know if he frequents the clubs. Can you get any more information from Angelina?”

“Not right now. She’s not allowed to speak to me for another…” I glanced at the clock. “…thirty minutes.”

“Damn! What did she do?”

“She made me wait. Fuck, Cynthia! I am so pissed off right now that I don’t want to see her anyway. I’m afraid of what I’ll do.”

“Listen to me, Brenden. You’ll control yourself like you always do, remind her what she did wrong, and then comfort her. Just remember none of this is her fault.”

“I know that! It’s that asshole Theodore’s fault. I swear to God, Cynthia, I’ll kill the bastard when I find him. You’ll read in the paper of his body found floating in the East River, beaten unrecognizable.” I ran my hand through my hair and scowled. “She’s still fucking afraid of me! After she told me she trusted me and felt safe with me, she flinched when I put her in the corner. I have never laid a fucking hand on her, Cynthia, and she still flinches away from me!”

“Oh, my darling Brenden,” she sighed. “I wish I could help you, but I don’t know what to say to make this better.”

“Neither do I. I need to go back to her, though. I can’t let her think I’ve abandoned her.”

“How long has she been alone?”

“Only about twenty minutes, but I can only imagine what her mind is conjuring up. What kind of sadistic shit she thinks I’m going to do to her. Fuck! What can I do to make her understand that I am not going to hurt her?”

“Just keep taking care of her. Keep not hurting her. Keep punishing her when she does wrong and rewarding her when she does right. Show her that you are different, Brenden. That’s all you can do.”

I grunted. “I know, but what if it’s not enough?”

“Then you might have to let her go.”

My chest tightened at that thought, and I said, “And then what? She finds another Theodore who kills her this time? I can’t let that happen. I can’t.”

“Then don’t, babe. Figure out a way to get her to trust you. Just understand that it may take months.”

“Shit! Thanks, Cynthia, for listening to me vent. Sorry for the language.”

She laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile slightly. “That’s nothing, sweetheart. You have to remember that I know Andrew Maddox, too.”

That made me chuckle, and I said goodbye. After shoving my phone in my pocket, I went back to the study. I didn’t say anything as I moved to my chair, but I frowned when I looked at Angel. She was still in the proper position, but she was shaking violently and sobbing like her heart was breaking. I sat down in my chair, and when it creaked, she tensed. The sobs continued, though, and I waited silently for her time to be up.

Finally, the timer on her phone sounded, and I said, “Angelina, come here,” as I turned it off. She did and immediately knelt at my feet, still shaking and still crying. “Tell me why you were punished.”

“I was punished because I was late, Master,” she whispered. “I was punished because I made you wait for me.”

“Correct. Will it happen again?”

She caught her breath and cringed. “No, Master. I promise, Master.” Then she whispered something I couldn’t hear.

“What was that, Angelina? Speak up.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and said, “Please don’t hate me, Master.”

Fucking hell! I usually waited at least an hour before comforting a slave after a punishment, but this couldn’t wait, and I reached down, picked her up, and sat her on my lap. I held her head to my shoulder and held her tightly as she sobbed.

“Oh, my Angel, I don’t hate you. Don’t ever think that. I could never hate you. I care for you. Don’t you understand that’s why I had to punish you? I care too much to let you misbehave. I care too much to let your transgressions continue. Do you understand that?”

She just nodded against my chest, and her hands fisted in my shirt. She continued to cry for almost fifteen minutes, and I just held her. My hands drifted across her soft, smooth skin, trying to calm her down. “You’re safe, Angel. I will never hurt you like that bastard did,” I said quietly. “Trust me to take care of you. Trust me, my beautiful Angel.”

Eventually, the sobs slowed and then stopped, but her hands never loosened in their death grip on my shirt. “I’m sorry, Master. I fucked up.”

“Messed up,” I corrected her. “Yes, you did, but you were punished for it, and now it’s over. You’ll be punished again when you mess up again, and that will be it.” I took her chin in my fingers and pulled her head back. “Can you talk to me now?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly let go of me. “Yes, Master. I think so.”

“Good girl.” I kissed her forehead and then moved everything on the desk to the side and lifted her up onto it. She immediately put her feet on the top and spread her knees. I smiled at her. “Yes, Angel. That is the proper position when I have you here unless I tell you otherwise.” I pulled my chair close to the desk so that I was between her legs. I ran my hands down her inner thighs and breathed in her unique scent. “Damn, Angel, you are so beautiful,” I breathed as my fingers flitted around her outer lips without making more than a grazing contact. “I want to fuck you, but not here and not now.” I looked into her eyes. “I have something else to give you, but you have to earn it first. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded frantically. “Yes, Master. Please let me prove myself to you, Master.”

“All right, then. I want you to go to my room and find my leathers, a black button-down shirt, and my biker boots. Lay them all out for me, and then go to your room and wait for me. I’ll be in my room in five minutes.” I ran my index finger down her temple to her chin. “Don’t disappoint me again, Angel.”

“No, Master, I won’t. May I go now, Master?”

“Go.”

She hopped down off the desk and ran out of the room. I watched the clock—again. At four and a half minutes, I picked up the bag with the bath items I had bought for her and walked to my room. I smiled when I saw what I had requested on the bed, neatly laid out, with my boots on the floor next to it. She had even placed a clean pair of black socks on the boots. I put the bag down on my dresser and went into my bathroom. After a quick shower, I dressed in the clothes she had laid out for me.

I knew that when I was wearing my leathers, I attracted attention wherever I went. It was hard to miss a six five, two hundred thirty pound man all in black, especially when he had a slave following after him, ready to do his bidding, which is exactly what I would have tonight. A lovely, obedient slave who was so fucked up in the head that I didn’t know what to do with her.

Twenty minutes after I sent her out of the study, I was standing in the doorway of her room. She was kneeling at the end of the bed in the perfect position, and I put the bag on her dresser. Then I walked in front of her. “Stand up, Angel.” She did so, and I picked her up. Her legs went around my waist as I kissed her, and her arms went around my neck. “So fucking beautiful,” I whispered against her lips, and my tongue slid between her lips to tangle with hers. Reluctantly breaking the kiss, I set her on her feet and gestured toward the bag. “That is for you. I’m going out for about two hours.” I glanced at the clock on her dresser. “I’ll be back at four. I want you cleaned and ready for me. I’ll pick out the clothes I want you to wear if I can find anything with what is left. Otherwise, I’ll buy you something while I’m out. If that’s the case, you’ll get dressed when I get back. Then we’ll go out.”

“Yes, Master,” she said softly. “I’ll be ready for you, Master, I promise. I won’t fail you again.”

I smiled down at her and left the room without even looking for clothing for her first. I knew what I wanted wasn’t there. I’d have to buy it, and I hailed a cab as soon as I stepped out into the late spring afternoon.

“135 East 107th, please,” I told the driver, and he pulled away from the curb. Half an hour later, he dropped me off at a little shop that had the sign “Emily’s Bakery” over the door, but I knew better. Sure the front area was a bakery—they made fantastic scones—but the back room was what I was here for. When I walked in, a little bell above the door rang, and the owner, Emily DeSonti, looked up and smiled.

“Master Brenden! What can I do for you?”

“I need an outfit, Emily.”

“Sure thing.”

Emily really was a baker. She’d gone to school for it and everything, but she’d found that her side business paid much better. She said something to her assistant and gestured for me to follow her to the back. I took a deep breath of the breads and muffins as I passed them by. The yeasty odor quickly changed when she unlocked a door at the back of the kitchen, though. As the door opened, the unmistakable fragrance of leather wafted out.

“After you,” she said, holding the door for me. I flicked on the light and walked to the middle of the room. Looking around me, I grinned as I pictured my Angel strapped into a harness and accessible to my every whim. “So, what are you looking for?”

“I need a harness, but I’d like it to be white if you have it.”

“A white harness? Why white?”

Because she’s my angel. I just smiled at Emily as I thought this. “Not really your business, is it?”

“No. Just curious. I do happen to have one harness in white. Some guy makes them by hand and wanted to know if I would sell them here. I wasn’t really interested, but I told him I’d keep it just in case. It’s pretty small, though. Hope your slave isn’t a big girl.”

“She’s little. Let me see it.” She went to a chest and pulled out a mass of white leather and metal. She put it on a mannequin’s torso, and I looked at it critically. It had a high posture collar and straps that ran around the top of the chest, down the center, around the waist, and around the thighs. All of the straps were connected to each other with O-rings, and they looked to be adjustable. I loved it.

“I’ll take it. How much?”

Emily’s eyes went wide. “Really? For you, Brenden, it’s free. Just get the damn thing out of my shop.”

“You’re giving it to me? Why?”

“Why do you think? It’s white. God knows why you want it, but good riddance. Anything else?”

“Yes. I need a size two bra and panty set. In white.” I grinned when Emily rolled her eyes.

“That’s not so unusual. Come pick out what you like.” She led me to a display, and I quickly decided on a set entirely made of thin lace except for small cotton pieces that covered the nipples and pussy.

“Do I get this free, too?”

“No. That’s a hundred and fifty bucks.” Emily held out her hand, and I took my wallet, pulled out two hundreds, and handed them to her.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks, Brenden.” She cocked her head and studied me as she put my items in a bakery bag. “What’s different about this one?”

“Everything, Emily. Everything. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re different. You seem calmer than usual. Less tense.”

I laughed. “Outward appearances can be very deceiving, babe. I’m wound so tight I think I might snap.”

She shrugged and led me back to the front of the store. An older couple had entered, and they stared at me wide-eyed. As I was about to exit, Emily said, “Hey, Brenden!”

I turned back to her. “What?”

She grinned at me. “Looking good, baby. Have fun tonight.”

“Oh, I will,” I laughed, and then I walked out.

Three cab rides and an hour and a half later, I had everything I wanted, and I was on my way back home. Eduardo smiled at me as I stepped out of the cab.

“More shopping, Mr. Borget? She must be someone special.”

“Oh, she is, Eduardo,” I said with a smile as I passed him.

It was only three thirty when I walked into the apartment, and I wanted Angel to know that it was all right if she wasn’t ready yet.

“Angel, come here.”

Pattering footsteps sounded on the hardwood, and she ran to me, magnificently naked, but her eyes were wide with fear. Her bottom lip trembled, and she looked like she was about to cry, which would have ruined the makeup job she had perfected. I immediately dropped the bags I was holding and pulled her close.

“Don’t cry. I’m early. You still have time.” I took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of roses and lavender from her skin and hair. “Fuck, Angel, you smell fantastic. Everyone in the club is going to be insanely jealous of me tonight.”

“Thank you, Master,” she whispered. “I wanted to make you proud of me.”

“Oh, my Angel, I am.” I let her go and picked up the bags again. “These are for you. Take them and get dressed. I want to show you off.” She gave me her almost smile, took the bags, and turned around. “And Angel?”

“Yes, Master?” She looked over her shoulder at me.

“Trust me tonight. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Yes, Master.” She disappeared down the hall, and I went to my study. I sat down in my chair and picked up the receipts Angel had left there earlier along with the money that was left over from her shopping. I compared the receipts to the amount of money that was left, and I was happy to see they matched. As I opened the middle drawer and put the money in the envelope, I saw motion out of the corner of my eye by the door. I slowly turned my head and once again caught myself just before I gasped.

Angel was standing there looking just like her naughty namesake. I couldn’t imagine a real angel looking as delicious as she did at that moment, though, and I gestured her into the room. She moved toward me, but I held up my hand.

“Stay there, Angel. Let me look at you.”

“Yes, Master.” She stood still with her hands clasped behind her back and her feet spread slightly as I stood. The harness fit her perfectly, as did the bra and panties. Her gold collar hung over the white posture collar and gleamed in the light. Her thigh-high white fishnet stockings were hooked to her panties with white garters, and the three-inch stilettos made her legs look amazing. Over it all, she had on a thigh-length white trench coat.

“Turn.”

She did, slowly, and I caught my breath at her beauty. When she faced me again, I forced my cock to behave and for my feet to not rush to her.

“You are so beautiful, my Angel, and now I get to show everyone just how true that is. Come here.”

She came to me, and I put my hands on her hips before she could kneel. “The rules still apply at the club, Angel. You will kneel at my feet and call me Master. You will not speak to anyone but me unless I give you permission. You will obey me instantly no matter what I tell you to do. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master. I understand.”

“Good.” I stood up and took her hand. “Let’s go.” As we left the apartment, I asked, “Do you dance?”

“Yes, Master, but I’ve never danced with anyone as tall as you.”

I chuckled, and once again I got the almost-smile. “Well, all you have to do is follow. I’ll lead.”

“Yes, Master.”

As we passed Eduardo, he whistled softly. I grinned at him, and he said, “Mr. Borget, Miss Wykes. Have a great time tonight.”

“Thank you, Eduardo. We will.”

I hailed a cab and helped Angel in before sliding in after her. “Eyes on the road, please,” I said to the driver who was trying to watch us in the mirror. I gave him the address of Club Agalon, and he pulled out into traffic, but his eyes still flickered to the mirror often.

Putting my hand on Angel’s bare knee, I gave it a comforting squeeze. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, but she was trembling beneath my hand.

I moved my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Then I bent close to her ear and whispered, “Trust me.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll try, Sir.”

I kissed the top of her ear and held her tightly for the entire twenty-minute ride to the club. When we stepped out of the cab, her trembling intensified.

“What’s the matter, Angel?”

“Master Theodore used to take me here, Master. What if he’s here now?”

I scowled, hoping he was. “Then he’ll spend the night in the hospital for what he did to you. Now, stay by my side. Usually I have my slaves walk behind me, but I want to keep you close tonight. I want you to feel safe.”

“Thank you, Master,” she whispered, and we walked to the front door of the club.

“Master Brenden! Good to see you, sir!”

“Thanks, Tyler,” I said to the huge man who kept unwanteds out of the club. He was shorter than me, but his biceps had to be twice the size of mine, as were all the rest of his muscles.

“Have a good time, sir,” he said, completely ignoring Angel, just as he had been trained to do.

“I will, thank you.”

We walked in and were instantly bombarded with noise. A lot of it. A band was playing at the far end of the dance floor, and the bass line reverberated off the walls. The club was packed, even at this early hour, and the rumble of conversations filled the air. A clerk took our jackets, and then my Angel was displayed for all to see.

This was my favorite fetish club, and several people who knew me stopped me to shake my hand and stare curiously at my Angel in white. I didn’t enlighten them at all. Let them wonder. I walked to the bar, ordered two vodkas straight up, and gave them to Angel to carry. Then I went in search of a table.

Since Angel would be kneeling, I wanted a low table with chairs, not a high one with stools. I truly wanted her to feel safe with me, and I knew she wouldn’t if she were that far away from me. I finally found one close to the stage, and I took a seat. Angel immediately knelt at my feet, and I rested my hand on her head to let her know that she had done well. She held up one of the vodkas to me, and I took it, draining it in one gulp. I wanted to dance, but I wanted a slow dance first, so I waited. After three songs, the band slowed it down, and I stood, took Angel’s drink from her, set it on the table, and pulled her to her feet.

We were right on the edge of the dance floor, so I quickly pulled her into my arms and began to move. In her heels, Angel’s head still barely came to my shoulder, but she was using her hips to her advantage. As I spun her away and back, she ground them into my rapidly rising cock, and I growled at her, “You’re going to have to do something about that later.”

“Yes, Master,” she answered, and, although her head was against my chest, I thought she might be smiling.

“Look at me, Angel.” She raised her head, and I sucked in my breath. Her eyes were shining, and she did indeed have a timid smile curling her lips. God, she was gorgeous when she did that. It was the middle of the song, but I took her hand and led her back to the table. “On your knees,” I said as I stood in front of her. She dropped down and stared at my crotch. “You know how to suck cock, yes?”

“Oh, yes, Master.” The smile hadn’t left her face, and I groaned at the desire in her eyes.

“Ask for permission.”

Her hands twitched, but she kept them on her thighs. “Please, Master, please let me suck your beautiful cock. Please let me serve you. Please let me give you relief, Master.” There was no doubt in my mind that she truly wanted this and that she was truly begging me for the privilege of pleasuring me.

“Do it.”

Trembling, in anticipation I hoped, she reached up and undid the button and zipper on my pants. I knew we’d have an audience soon, and that made me even harder. Her eyes flashed upward to mine as she released my throbbing dick. Her small hand didn’t even fit all the way around when she grasped it by the base, and I knew she’d probably not be able to deep throat the whole thing, but just the thought of my shaft in her hot, wet mouth had me dripping pre-cum already. Her smile faded, and then she stuck out her tongue and slowly licked the tip, dipping her tongue into my hole briefly.

“Fuck, Angel!” I breathed, closing my eyes.

She added her other hand to my shaft and began slowly stroking me as her tongue made circles around my circumcised head. God damn, she knew what she was doing! Once she had the head nice and wet, she switched to the shaft, licking it from just behind the head to my balls. Her tiny hands were now cupping those same balls and holding my cock still for her service. When she was done lubing it up, she slid her lips over the head, and I almost lost it right there. That would have been embarrassing, though, and I forced myself to calm. It wasn’t easy.

I opened my eyes and stared down at her. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she swallowed my cock. Inch by tortuous inch, it disappeared into her mouth until I felt the tip hit her throat. There were still at least three inches out at that point, and I thought she would stop, but she didn’t. I felt her throat relax, and she continued, my cock sliding down her open throat.

“Holy shit, Angel! Fuck, yes!”

She didn’t stop until her lips were kissing my pelvis. Her hands moved to my ass; and mine moved to the back of her head. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I wanted my cock down her throat as much as possible. She slowly slid back until the head popped out of her throat, and then she took a deep breath and sucked her way back down to the base. I let her set the pace at first, but soon I needed it faster.

“Hold still, my Angel,” I said when she pulled back. “I’m going to fuck your throat now.” She stared up at me and nodded with her mouth full of cock, and I started pumping in and out of her, making sure not to go too hard, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she started moaning, the vibrations caressing my head and the first few inches of my shaft, and her eyes drifted shut. Even when I felt my balls tighten and I pounded into her harder and faster, her hands just tightened on my ass, and her moans got louder.

"Oh, fuck, that's good," I groaned as my orgasm flowed through me. I pumped stream after stream down her throat, and, as she swallowed, her throat muscles milked me dry. "Swallow every drop, my Angel. Don't disappoint me." She did, and when I finally softened and pulled out of her, she smiled up at me, tucked me back in my pants, and did up the fastenings.

She flinched when a quiet murmuring and a few scattered claps sounded behind her, but I petted her hair and held her head to my thigh. "Don't be afraid or embarrassed, my Angel. You did very well. Better than I had expected, actually." I grinned down at her. "Obviously your oral skills are not something you need training in."

"Thank you, Master,” she said, the same shy smile back on her face as she looked up at me. It vanished in an instant when someone behind her spoke.

“You have me to thank for that.”

Her eyes went as wide as I had ever seen them in the short while I had known her, and she scurried around behind me, still on her knees. Her arms came around my left leg, and she started shaking so violently that I was having trouble staying on my feet. When she whimpered, I immediately knew who had spoken, and a low growl came from my chest. I looked up at the only man still watching us, and I thought I might explode. I knew him. I had never considered the possibility that I knew the fucking bastard.

Ted Palardy was half a foot shorter than I was and a good fifty pounds lighter. Most of the hundred eighty or so pounds he had were quickly running to fat, but he must have seemed a giant to my Angel. His long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he had a huge grin on his face as if he were proud of something. My fists clenched tightly with my attempt to control myself. I knew I would lose that fight, though, and I was looking forward to it.

“You? I have you to thank for this?”

“That’s right. She didn’t know shit when I got her. I trained her in everything she knows.”

I tried to take a step toward him, but I couldn’t move. “Angel, let go,” I said, keeping my eyes on the fuck in front of me. Slowly, her arms released me, and I chanced a glance back at her. She was folded in on herself, in as tight a ball as she could be and still stay on her knees. She was almost convulsing, she was trembling so hard. Even in her terror, though, she was trying to obey me, and I would reward her for that later, but right now, I was going to make sure everyone in the club knew what Palardy had done to my Angel.

“How did you train her, Ted? Beat the shit out of her when she disobeyed? Without her consent?” I took a step toward him, and he must have not liked what he saw on my face because he took one backward. Angel scrambled to keep up, crawling on her hands and knees to stay close to me. “Refuse to let her climax for seven fucking months? Is that your idea of training? Making her so fucking scared that she falls apart just from hearing your voice?” I continued toward him, and he continued retreating until his back hit the crowd that was forming around us. Hands roughly pushed him back toward me.

“Take it easy, Brenden. What do you care as long as she knows how to obey?” He put his hands up in front of him as if to ward me off. “She’s just a fucking bitch. Who cares how she feels about it? No slave likes being punished. You know that.” He was starting to blabber, and I thought he might piss his pants.

“You don’t know the first fucking thing about being a Dom, you shit. Slaves are treasures. They voluntarily give up their lives to us, and we are responsible for their safety.” I heard several men and a few women mumble their agreement, and Ted looked around at them frantically. “You’re right about one thing. Slaves do not like punishment, but what you did wasn’t punishment, you fuck. It was assault!” I looked around at the other patrons, too. Most were scowling at Ted, but a few were just staring with no expression whatsoever. I reached down and pulled Angel to her feet. She was still shaking, but my touch seemed to calm her somewhat. “It’s all right,” I told her softly, and then I moved her in front of me, turned her so her back was to the crowd, and undid her harness, exposing her back. I scanned the crowd and saw that Andrew was present. Perfect.

“Andrew Maddox, would you do this to your slave? Mark her like this?”

“Of course I would,” he said with a grin, and several of the men around me chuckled.

“Why?”

“Because she wants me to.” His grin slipped, comprehension coming to him. “Yours didn’t, though, did she?”

“Turn around, Angel,” I said as Andrew pushed his way to the front of the crowd. Angel slowly turned but shrank back into me when she saw Ted. “Ask her yourself. Tell him the truth, Angel.”

Andrew stopped in front of us, frowning now. “Angel? That’s your name?”

“Yes, Sir. Angelina.”

“Look at me, Angelina.” She slowly raised her head. “Did you ask for those wounds? For those scars?”

A sob burst from her, “No, Sir. I begged him to stop, Sir, but he wouldn’t. I used my safe word, Sir, but he didn’t stop!” She buried her face in her hands, and I wrapped my arm around her tightly.

Andrew was the one now scowling, and he snapped his fingers once. “Heidi!”

His fiancée rushed to him, her head bowed and her hands behind her back. “Yes, Master?”

“Show the crowd what I did to you.”

“Yes, Master.” She had on a black leather vest, and she slipped it off. Underneath she had on a lace bra that barely covered anything. She slowly turned so that everyone could see her back. There were more than a few gasps when it was exposed. It was still one massive bruise, but she had a smile on her face as she showed everyone.

“Tell everyone what you asked me last night.”

“Yes, Master.” She stopped and faced the crowd, although her eyes were still on the floor. “I asked my Master when we could visit the dungeon again.”

“Why did you ask me that?”

Her smile grew. “Because, Master, I want you to hurt me again.”

“Do you want me to mark you?”

“Oh, yes, Master,” she breathed, and it was clear she meant it.

“Have you ever used your safe word with me?”

“Yes, Master.”

“And what happened when you did?”

“You stopped beating me, Master.”

“Good girl. Don’t move.” He turned to Angel. “You are not like Heidi, are you, Angelina?”

“No, Sir,” she whispered.

“You don’t enjoy pain like she does, do you?”

“No, Sir.” Her words were barely audible, and Andrew spun to face Ted.

“She safe worded with you?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“And you ignored her?”

“Yeah. She’s just a bitch. I was her Master. I can do whatever I want with my slaves. Who are you to judge me?”

I saw Andrew’s fist clench, but he just said, “I’m a responsible Dom, you fucking bastard. I’m a Dom who cares for my slave and would never—never!—mark her without her permission!” Then he looked around at the other Doms and Dommes in the crowd. “Is there anyone here who thinks Brenden doesn’t have the right to beat the shit out of this prick? I’d gladly do it, but it’s his slave who was hurt by this fuck.”

Heads shook everywhere I could see. Andrew then turned back to us. “Heidi, take Angelina to one of the private rooms and stay with her there. I’ll come get you when this is over.”

“Yes, Master.” Heidi stepped forward and tried to take Angel’s arm, but my girl spun and wrapped her hands around my waist.

“No, Master! Please don’t make me go! Please, Master!”

I pried her from me and kissed her forehead. “It’s all right, my Angel. Go with Heidi. She’ll take care of you.” Angel shook her head, and I brushed my hand over her tear-streaked face. “Trust me, Angel. Go with her.”

Her bottom lip trembled, but she whispered, “Yes, Master,” and walked away with Heidi’s arm around her shoulder, but she had yet to stop shaking. I watched until the two disappeared into one of the back rooms, and then I looked at Ted who was still looking around at the crowd as if he would find sympathy there.

“Understand this, you shit.” His head snapped to me. “If I ever hear of you owning a slave again, I will kill you. I will hunt you down and beat you to death. I don’t give a fuck if I go to prison for the rest of my life. You will never, ever be involved in our community again. Here or anywhere else.” With that, my fist flew from my side and connected solidly with his jaw.

He flew backward into the crowd, but they pushed him upright again, and Andrew stepped behind him. He grabbed Ted’s arms and held them tightly behind him.

“Go for it, Brenden.”

And I did. When I was finished, my knuckles were split and bleeding, and I had two men pulling me backward, but Ted was lying on the floor of the club, unconscious with several broken ribs, a broken jaw, two shattered eye sockets, and probably bruised kidneys. Blood covered him, and it was splattered all over my clothing. Andrew was standing over him, and he delivered one final, vicious kick to his crotch. Then he looked at me.

“Get out of here, Brenden. Get Angelina and go. We’ll take care of this sack of shit.”

I looked around, and everyone I made eye contact with nodded. As I walked to the room where Heidi had taken Angel, several people patted me on the back, and one Domme even held out her hand to me. I didn’t know her, but I still took it—gingerly.

“Thank you, Master Brenden. We don’t need his kind giving the rest of us a bad name. I’ve never seen a slave as scared as yours was when she heard his voice. No slave should ever react that way to a former Master. He deserved everything you gave him.”

“I appreciate that…” I raised my eyebrows.

“Virginia Page. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my slave home.”

“No problem.” She held out a card to me, and I took it and stuck it in my pocket without looking at it. “If you ever need anything as far as equipment goes, I own a little shop in SoHo. Give me a ring.”

“Sure thing.” I gave her a brief smile and opened the door to the room. Heidi was sitting on a bench with her arm around my Angel who seemed to have stopped crying. At least, she wasn’t shaking anymore. They both kept their eyes down when I walked in, and I smiled even though I was tired as fuck and my hands hurt.

“Come here, my Angel.” She hopped off the bench and rushed to me. I held my hands up when she tried to hug me, though. “No, Angel, don’t touch me. I have blood all over me. I don’t want it on you.”

She glanced up at me, and although she hadn’t been crying, she started again. “What happened to you, Master? You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, Angel, but we need to leave. Now.”

“Yes, Master.” Her head dropped, and I turned to Heidi.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I really appreciate it.”

“I obey my Master, Sir,” she said simply.

“I know that, but you did more than that tonight, and I thank you for it.”

Heidi just nodded, and I turned and walked out of the room with Angel following me closely but not touching me. Luckily, with my black clothing, the blood wouldn’t be noticeable, even though it was still light outside. I had planned on spending several hours at the club, but that wasn’t possible now. Now we had to leave before the cops came.

Angel kept her head turned away from the crowd as we walked to the front door We collected our jackets—I let the clerk put Angel’s on her—and left the club.

“We need to walk for a while until this blood dries, Angel. I don’t want to leave bloodstains in a cab. The cops would probably frown on that.”

“Yes, Master,” she said after taking a deep breath.

I kept my hands in my jacket pockets while we walked in the general direction of home, and Angel stayed by my side.

“Talk to me, Angel,” I said after about three blocks. “Tell me what you are feeling.”

She was silent for a moment, and then she answered, “I am feeling safe, Sir.”

I was pleased she remembered to switch titles now that we were in public. “Safe? Why?”

“Because I know you beat the sh—crap out of him, Sir. For me.”

I chuckled. “No, I beat the shit out of him. He’ll be drinking his meals for the foreseeable future. Once he wakes up, that is.”

“But you did that for me, Sir. Because he hurt me.”

“Yes, I did. I told you I care for you, Angel, and that means taking care of things you aren’t able to. You never have to be afraid again. Not of him, and most definitely not of me. Tell me you’re not afraid of me.” Please tell me that.

“I’m not afraid of you, Sir. Not anymore. How could I be afraid of someone who would do that for me, Sir?”

“Good.”

We walked in silence for almost two miles, and then I decided that the blood was dry enough, and I hailed a cab. I still didn’t want to touch Angel with my bloodstained hands, though, and she seemed to understand this, for she climbed in without my help. After I gave the driver my address, I settled back into the seat. I kept my hands in my pockets, and I whispered to Angel, “Take my wallet out of my jacket.” She obeyed immediately, and I said, “When we get home, you pay him. I don’t want him to see my hands.”

“Yes, Sir.”

When we finally pulled up in front of my building, she did as I had bid, and we climbed out of the cab. Eduardo’s shift was over now, but his replacement, George, was there, and he held the door open for us. He glanced at me and asked, “Is everything all right, Mr. Borget?”

“Just fine, George.” I walked past him without saying anything else, and Angel followed me. When we got to my door, I pulled my keys from my pocket, but at that moment, a spasm raced through my hand, and I dropped them. Angel scooped them up and unlocked the door before opening it and holding it for me. “Good girl,” I said, giving her a smile, and she just nodded, but I noticed she was biting her bottom lip again. “Stop biting your lip, Angel,” I said as she shut the door behind us and locked it.

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just stop doing it. What’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath. “You’re hurt, Master.”

I held up my hands and looked at them. They were covered in blood, mine and that fucker’s. The knuckles on both hands were split and angry looking, but they weren’t bleeding anymore. That would probably change once I washed them. “Yes, I am,” I said, “but it was worth it for you to feel safe again.” I looked at her. “I’m going to clean up. Make something light for dinner.” Then I grinned. “Don’t change. I like that outfit.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, but she didn’t smile back. “May I clean your clothes for you, Master?”

“Can you get the blood out?”

“Yes, Master. My mother worked in a laundry, Master. She taught me a lot.”

“Fine. I’ll leave them outside the bathroom. Make dinner first, though. I’m starving. And do undress before you clean them. I don’t want blood on your outfit.”

“Yes, Master.” She smiled then, and I reminded myself to reward her for her obedience in the club earlier as I walked to my bathroom.
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