Restraint (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (10 page)

Master Ez’s
hand fists my aching hair. Yes, hair can ache. “You will go to Restraint in the evening. Understood?’

“Yes,
” I cry out in pain- pain from my pulled hair and pain from submitting to Master Ez’s whims.

“Yes, what?”
He growls at me.

“Yes, Master Ez,
” I dutifully reply.

“Lovely, I love the sound of that.”
His smoky voice hums.

A cloth
gently cleans my thighs and sweeps between my legs. I whimper from the contact. “No solo play. I will find out if you do.” His voice takes on a new tenor- lust. 

I snort at Master Ez
for thinking I’ll rub one out the second he leaves. I’ll have no issue with that edict. I’ve never masturbated in my life.

I finally feel alive. I enjoy this new sensation of being so turned on
that I’d beg for the sweet relief of release. The pressure is building to painful levels, but that means I can feel. I’ll take pain over my usual numb any day.

My mind is so fogged and blissed out that I can’t stop idiotic words f
rom spewing. “Thank you, Master, for the gifts, for punishing me, and for taking care of me.”

Master Ez
settles his large body down the back of mine, reminiscent of when I was shoved against the door at Restraint. He suckles on my tattoo, lips widely open and sucking, tongue lapping at my skin. Arms wraps around me from behind in an affectionate embrace.

“Anytime, Kitty Kat… always,
” Master Ez happily purrs, and as punctuation on his comment, he softly kisses my neck.

“Is Ez your initials, a nickname, or something else?”
I try to pull the truth from him.

“All of the above,” he chuckles
in amusement. “Look at you, high in subspace and still trying to get info out of me. Impressive, Katya, impressive.” He hooks one finger on my chin and pulls my face to the side. A soft kiss brushes my lips, musky yet sweet, tasting like me. 

“Be a good girl. I’
ll see you this evening. Sleep well, my Katya.” Another kiss and the heavy weight is gone from my back, leaving me feeling empty and cold and alone.

***

Hours… or maybe ten minutes later I find myself guzzling ginger ale straight from the bottle with the refrigerator door open for light. My body fiercely aches and I am ravenously starving.

I glance
at the counter. All of my sharp implements and cutting edges are missing. My lubrication lineup has an addition, in between L for lotion and P for petroleum jelly stands O for ointment. The aloe and antibiotic ointment Master Ez had applied to my wrists. It takes the sting out of my injured wrists, and the gesture lessens my annoyance at my missing items. But I still want to know where it came from, how he knew I needed it in the first place, and how he got it so fast.

I smirk in the shadowy darkness of my kitchen. I can’t believe I let him touch me and I responded. I can’t believe I didn’t freak the fuck out. And I ache to play this game with him again…

I ache to win…

Chapter
Eight

Worry coils in my stomach as I
ride the elevator down to the foyer. I’m extremely antsy, muscles knotted, and I swear the butterflies in my tummy grew fangs and claws. The anxiety is so wicked that the instrumental version of a Celine Dion classic makes me wish I’d taken seventeen flights of stairs instead. Gotta love muzak.

I check my cuffs for the millionth time today. When I
first felt them on my skin, I thought they were similar to Fate’s. I was wrong. Master Ez must’ve had them commissioned a while ago. Soft leather tanned black, real fur lining the color of snow, shiny mystery metal bands, all clasped together with an expensive padlock. The padlock’s the same as the bracelet’s lock: black diamonds form an EZ that glows in the light. Most importantly is the fact that nothing covers them up. Believe me, I’ve tried.

T
he damned bracelet happily jangles against my wrist, tauntingly tapping against the cuff. Anger replaces the worry in my stomach. 

I thought all day until my head throbbed. My mind is covered in a fog. Is Mr. Zeitler Master Ez? I believe so. I have to get my head in the game. Until I know for sure
, I will assume they are separate people, while I look for similarities. When I’m with Ez I’m blinded from seeing him, but I have other senses to fall back on. I need to listen to his voice, remember the feel of his skin and the shape of his body beneath my fingers. His natural scent will never change no matter how much fragrance he douses himself with. I’ll have to study Zeitler when I get to work on Monday.

The one phrase that keeps playing on repeat within my mind is
why me
? Who cares if Master Ez is Ezra Zeitler? I mean I do, but I think it’s more important to wonder… why me? What the hell does this man want from me? I’m willing to play along just to find that out.

As I exit the elevator I pull my dark gray cape closed to prevent any of the residents of the building from seeing what I’m wearing. Mustn’t have the natives seeing a Dominatrix stride across the tile in their foyer. 

“Ma’am. Kat.” A hand lands on my forearm and I glare at its owner. I am sick of being pawed. I’m not everyone’s meat. I barely keep my restraint. But thank God that I do, because the owner’s hand belongs to none other than Aaron from Restraint.

“Aaron,” I say
, as I give another pointed look at the hand, and the hand immediately disappears.

Aaron looks at me like he wants to drop to the ground and apologize. A giggle escapes as I envision a burly male kneeling in front of a short female.

“It’s alright, Aaron. I just don’t like being touched unexpectedly,” I hold his gaze and add, “ever.”

I don’t want Aaron to know that the moment a man’s hand comes in contact with me I freak the
fuck out. I’m fine around woman, and when a man introduces himself I expect to shake hands. Anything other than that, it spikes my anxiety. The only male this doesn’t happen with is Master Ez, and that bastard has no boundaries. He’s the one I should really be worried about.

“Ma’am,” Aaron
leans into my ear, but doesn’t touch me. “Mistress Kat, the Boss requested I accompany you to the club.” He gently says, waiting for reproach.

I walk right out the doors, and Aaron
follows. When I start heading down the street, Aaron’s sneaky hand makes a reappearance. “Sorry… Sorry. I’m to drive you.” He flashes me a bashful grin and hides his hands behind his back, like he’s hiding the evidence. The expression on Aaron’s face says he understands my issues.

“It’s only four blocks. I walked there before.”
I manage not to pout, but just barely.

“At the end of the evening you may need assistance to stand, let alone walk four blocks.” His
statement and expression scare me to my core. He looks scared, too- for me.

I reluctantly follow Aaron
towards a sleek, black sedan, worrying that I’m making a stupid girl mistake. Those mistakes women make that end up getting them violated… or worse… dead. My self-preservation kicks in after Aaron opens my door and closes it after I settle myself on the buttery leather seats.

I don’t know Aaron
from Adam, and he is a huge dude that could easily hurt me. But size isn’t always an issue, seeing as how I was attacked by boys not much bigger than myself. Knowing Aaron works for Master Ez isn’t a comfort, either. The only comfort I can take is the fact that my instincts tell me that Aaron is a sweetheart. But I’m sure there are sweetheart sociopaths lurking out there.

“I’m Ez’s assistant, driver, bodyguard, and whatever else he
wants me to do.” Aaron speaks over his shoulder as he navigates through traffic.

“Are you his assistant day and night?”
I prod, eager for anything that could give me a clue.

“Yes, Mistr
ess, I am.” Aaron rumbles a heartily laugh- a pleasantly warm sound. “Nope, that isn’t going to help you figure out who Master Ez is either. I’m in on the game.”

“That’s just great,” I
sarcastically mutter. I try a new tactic. I can tell Aaron is intelligent, but maybe he’ll slip up. “Um, are you Master Ez’s sub?” Jealousy stirs in my blood from the thought, and I have no idea why it bubbled up.

“Yeah, I am. And don’t get freaked out about that, okay
?” Aaron hesitantly says in a worried tone. “I don’t have many needs and I serve my Master faithfully in everyday affairs. I’ve been with him for fifteen years. But it’s not a conventional Master/sub relationship.”

My eyebrows pinch together as I
ponder Aaron’s admission. I guess if you’re as bored and rich as Master Ez, you can make your own rules and have as many submissives as you wish. Aaron is about as submissive as I am- not at all. Maybe Master Ez loves a good challenge.

“How many subs does he have?”
I coax, but what I really want to ask is, how much competition do I have? Not because I worry that I have to compare to them. It’s like having more than one wife. The first wife is bound to hate the newest one. I’d like to know if I have to protect my ass from Master Ez’s jealous submissives.

“
There are three, counting us. We are all special cases. I function as his assistant and occasional outlet,” Aaron answers without a lick of shame.

Outlet for what
, I wonder.

Boy, I just feel more special by the second. Proof is in the pudding. Once bored, Master Ez trades you in for a new one, but he still keeps you around in case he needs an occasional outlet. Yeah, that’s the way to make us feel special, Master Ez.

“The third is a traditional sub?” I prompt.

I need details, Aaron. How am I supposed to get
in the game if you’re so matter-of-fact with the answers? C’mon, big boy, spill your secrets. Let’s teach your master a lesson for once. I want him to learn that I’m a competitive bitch. A challenge made is a challenge accepted. I want Master Ez to know what it feels like to lose.

“No, ma’am, I think he’
s reserved that position for you. He also has a female for other purposes,” his face flushes so brightly that I can see it in the rearview mirror.

“What kind?”
Now we’re getting somewhere, but I’m not sure I like the direction this is headed. Aaron is the occasional outlet. I’m the traditional sub that you boss around. This female is obviously Master Ez’s booty call.

“No, I said too much already
,” Aaron grumbles out, fear heavy in his voice. “I don’t wish to anger him. Worse, I don’t want to disappoint him, and ruin his game.” His blue eyes meet mine through the mirror, signally that the conversation is finished.

Fucking game, Master Ez
is playing it like a champion. But what else do you expect when you make all the rules to your own game?

The passeng
er door opens opposite me, revealing Aaron’s immense body. Panic overcomes me when Aaron crawls inside that car. His huge body in a confined space sets off warning alarms inside my psyche. I hurriedly reach for the door handle on instinct, and find it locked. I curse the creator of child safety locks.

“What are you doing?” the words come out quivery. In a panic to
bolt, I fuse myself to the door. I look out the tinted window, trying to find an escape route. My mind spins, trying to protect me. My heartbeat is in my throat, sweat beads on my skin, the memories threaten to overtake me. It’s illogical to think that Aaron wants to hurt me, but my mind doesn’t give a shit. I go into survival-mode.

We’re in
an underground parking garage with only a few cars scattered about and absolutely no people. No one to hear me scream, and no one would ever see through the tint on this window. I prepare to defend myself. Flight is out, fight it is.

“Where are we?”
I breathlessly pant. I try to calm myself down enough to think, when I actually want to freak the hell out.

“Mistress
, please don’t be frightened.” Aaron looks and sounds sad that I’m frightened of him. He shows his palms, that he means me no harm, trying to ease my fears. “I have to place a mask on you.”

“Why can’t I s
ee?” My voice squeaks as my fingers tightens on the door handle. My sweat-slickened palm slips off the metal handle.

“I’
m taking you directly to Master Ez. You know the rules.” Aaron is calm and relaxed. His body language is telling me I’m acting foolish. My anxiety doesn’t give a shit about his body language. My anxiety isn’t logical. My anxiety was raped, and it’s protecting me so it doesn’t happen again inside this car in a deserted, underground parking garage.

My lips quiver and I whimper like a scared animal.
I curl up around myself, rocking back and forth. I want my Master.

“Katya,” Aaron says with
surprising strength. “The sooner you follow the rules, the faster I can get you to our Master.”

“Ez seems to think we are on
the
know as ya go
plan,” I lash out. “I don’t know the rules.” I draw my bitch-shield for protection.

Aaron makes
a tsk-tsk noise. “Obey Master Ez’s commands and wear the mask, that’s all he asks of you.” He pleadingly stares at me to comply.

I take a deep breath and decide I don’t want Aaron to get into trouble because I freaked out. I feel bad that I made him feel bad.
But most importantly, I want out of this car. If I put the mask on, I get out of this car. That sounds fair to me.

“Give it to me.
I’ll put it on myself,” I snap.

A leather mask drops into
my lap. “Look it over. It’s your permanent mask. I’ll put it on you when you’re ready.” Aaron slumps in the seat prepared for a long wait.

I finger the small, fur lined, black leather mask.
It’s shaped to fit over my eyes, rest on my nose, and to meet my hairline. It reminds me of a masquerade mask. The eyes aren’t cut out, but they are painted to resemble my eyes. Creepy.

I hand the mask
back to Aaron, ready to be blinded. The last thing I see before Aaron gently fits the mask to my face is his boyish smile.

“It’s extremely comfortable,” I murmur to Aaron.

The Boss managed to measure my face, just as he did my wrists. Creepier.

Chapter Nine

I skim my hands up and down the arms of the chair I’m sitting in. It feels similar to the guest chairs in my office. I concentrate on the soft microfiber rubbing against my palms as I try to erase my fears.

Sensory deprivation is the shit. My touch and hea
ring have improved. By blocking out sight, my other senses have heightened. It sucks to be blind though. Within two minutes into my stay, I can hear sounds outside the room and feel the kiss of air against my skin.

“You look lovely, Katya,” Ez’s voice is warm and affectionate.
I’m relieved to hear it after my freak out in the car. I should blame him for it, but he isn’t to blame for my issues from the past.

“Thank
you, sir,” I bashfully say. I’m sure Aaron tattled on me.

I tilt my head to the side and home in on the movement around me. There are two people in here with me.
I can sense it.

“Is Aaron with you, s
ir?” I unsteadily ask, unsure if I’m allowed to voice questions or if I’m only allowed to speak when spoken to. Master Ez really is on the
know as you go
plan… and I despise it.

“No, Kitty Kat,
I brought you another gift.” Master Ez’s voice twists with wicked amusement. My stomach clenches in frightful anticipation- his gifts scare the shit out of me.

“Pet, sit at my desk,
” Master Ez softly commands the unknown person. “I’ll introduce you later.” Ah, the mystery third or perhaps the mystery female of unknown purpose- Master Ez’s booty call.

“Stand, Katya.” Master Ez’s
hands grasp my upper arms and pull me from the chair before I can even register his request.

“I’m so glad you obeyed.
I was worried that I’d have to punish you. Thank you,” is breathed against my mouth.

Soft lips meet mine,
a gentle press of a kiss. When I don’t immediately respond to his attentions, a sharp tug pulls on my bottom lip. I should clench my lips and deny him, but I cannot. My mouth gives beneath his and eagerly responds. Master Ez greets me with his kiss. It’s soft, hesitant, untried. I expect passion and ferocity from Master Ez, not gentle coaxing.

“Let us see how you’re dressed, shall we?”
he quietly murmurs as his hands remove my cape. I hear the fabric snap and feel the flush of air as the cape moves.

I dressed for myself
, as usual. This evening I wore a gray corset for my master, but underneath is a mesh bodysuit that screams hands off. I pair this with skin tight, black pants.