Her Master's Teacher

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Her Master's Teacher Page 13

by Lily White


  I didn’t look up at the screen. I’d already seen it. I didn’t want to see it again.

  Pressing forward, he moved slowly inside me, pushing and then pulling back until my body had adjusted to his width.

  “I suggest you remove your shirt, Holland. I’d hate to mess it up.” Still standing at a distance, Aiden continued to direct.

  Holland stilled inside me, a small angry growl emanating from his chest as he pulled the shirt over his head. I could feel his body move slightly until, once again, his hands were holding the backs of my thighs.

  He moved inside me again, back and forth, soft and slow. He didn’t want to hurt me, of that I was sure, but what followed took that choice out of his hands.

  At the loud crack of a whip, his hips bucked forward. A small cry escaped his lips as he was forced farther inside me. I couldn’t bite down and I wasn’t braced for the sudden intrusion. I cried out with him in that moment, but within seconds, his fingers stopped digging into the skin of my thighs as his body relaxed and he picked up the rhythm he’d held before.

  A woman giggled in the distance and I presumed she stood close to wherever Aiden was situated in the room.

  Another crack sounded and Holland bucked forward again, groaning from the pain of the whip against his flesh. I couldn’t have stopped the flow of tears from my eyes if I tried. I hated that this was being done to me, to him. Aiden and Rebecca sat back watching, enjoying the scene that played out before them.

  “Keep going, Holland. We’re not done yet.” Aiden mocked us from where he stood, the bitter contempt in his voice, a razor edged warning. I didn’t know why he was so angry, so easily enthralled by abusing Holland and me, but I’d gotten to a point where I didn’t care.

  I was tired already. Not even forty-eight hours in this nightmare and all I wanted to do was kill the bastard who ran it and save Holland and myself, even Rebecca, from the house of hell he’d created. I couldn’t blame the others when I knew the true source of my pain was also theirs.

  Another crack and then another, Holland’s body bucking against mine with the added speed of the lashes that struck him. After three more, he fell on top of me, his hands gripping into my thighs so tightly I knew my skin would bruise from the force. He trembled in pain, but refused to voice it, simply pushing himself back up and continuing to fuck me.

  Minutes passed, but I felt when he picked up his own speed, pushing himself to a point of climax so that he could end the charade Aiden had constructed.

  When he finally climaxed, I cried harder, thankful that this horrible experience would end. He pulled away and I could feel his cum drip over me, the skin between my legs growing cold now that it was exposed to the air by his noticeable absence.

  The recording ended at almost the same time, or maybe Aiden had turned it off. Either way, I didn’t care. Resting my head against the cool leather made wet by my tears, I could barely hear anything over the rush of blood in my head.

  “We’re done here.” No emotion, no concern. Aiden dismissed us as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

  Holland didn’t respond and the room fell silent until Aiden instructed, “Take Claire to her room and meet me in the office. We have a lot we need to discuss.”

  The door opened and closed again before I felt Holland moving above me, removing the cuffs from my wrists and the shackles from my ankles. He pulled me from the bench, carrying me across the room before setting me down to sit in a chair.

  It was the first time I’d seen his face since Aiden’s little spectacle and what I saw in his eyes crushed me even more than I’d been crushed before. He was in pain, tears threatening his eyes, but not falling. Yet, he still tended to me. I wanted to reach out and turn him around to see what damage had been caused to him, but I was too sore myself to move.

  He removed the ball gag and pulled it away, tossing it across the room so hard that it bounced off the wall and rolled over the floor. Drool dribbled down the sides of my mouth and the skin that had been stretched by the gag burned. I ignored my own pain, finally finding the strength to reach out and touch Holland’s shoulders.

  “Turn around.”

  He shook his head no, his eyes looking away from mine in shame and remorse.

  “Please…” I begged. “…Turn around.”

  “It’s nothing, Claire. She didn’t hit me that hard.”

  “I want to see what they did to you.”

  His eyes met mine finally, anger and frustration swirling behind the green color. Finally he turned for me and what I saw was enough to force more tears from my eyes.

  His skin was split on his back, blood seeping out in rivulets of crimson ribbons.

  “Why did you protect me?” It was a question spoken on a breathless whisper and not one I’d truly intended for him to answer.

  When he turned back to me, we stared at each other for the longest time, neither of us having anything to say to one another. We didn’t need to speak to communicate. The trauma had cemented us both together as victims of a cruel man.

  After a few moments, he confessed, “I need to get you to your room.”

  “What would happen if we just walked out of here? Together. If we left together.” It was a stretch, but I thought that, maybe, it would be a suggestion he’d consider.

  He shook his head.

  “No. You have no idea what we’re involved in. My entire future rides on this. You don’t understand and I can’t tell you. Not now.”

  Standing up, he grimaced when he reached down to help me up from the chair. Our walk back to the room was silent and he locked me inside the black room with nothing more than a faint smile and the sound of the metal lock sliding into place.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Holland

  “What the fuck was that?”

  Storming into Aiden’s office, I found him sitting behind his desk with Rebecca perched on her pillow to the side.

  He motioned for Rebecca to stand up. “Tend to Holland’s wounds. We wouldn’t want him to get an infection.”

  “I’m fine.” My voice was rough with rage.

  Looking up at me, his expression didn’t move except for the quick blink of his eyes. “Rebecca will clean and bandage you. Sit down and stop acting like a little bitch.” With a demeaning tone, he showed no regard for my anger.

  I felt Rebecca’s hand on my back and I took a seat in a chair facing Aiden. She smoothed alcohol over the cuts and I had to tense up to keep from recoiling at the sting. When the air moved over my back, the alcohol cooled, which helped douse what felt like fire against my skin.

  “Why did you do that, Aiden? You had no fucking right…”

  “I have a right to anything I please in this house…and in the society. I didn’t solicit to train you. Your stepfather begged and I accepted. We play by my rules. You know that.”

  “You said she was mine to train. This is the second time you’ve stepped in to train her yourself!” Seething anger. It was the only way to describe what crawled beneath my skin.

  As usual he remained neutral. His fingers steepled in front of him, the tips touching against his chin as he looked at me. “Have you ever considered that it’s not her I’m training?”

  This time, I flinched, but not as a result of the alcohol Rebecca was still applying to my back.

  Pulling his hands away, he reached out to idly play with a pen on his desk. “Instead of allowing you to question my judgment, a man who has years of experience over you, maybe we should use our time wisely by questioning yours.”

  Our eyes were locked, mine in fury and his in satisfaction.

  He didn’t look away as he paused to allow his question to hang between us. Rebecca continued tending to my back, applying bandages over the cuts. Nobody spoke while she finished. Once the last bandage had been taped in place, she returned the first aid kit to a cabinet on the wall and took her place on the pillow.

  Finally relaxing against his chair, Aiden looked away from me, turning his head to stare out ov
er the darkening sky outside his windows. A lone willow tree could be seen in the distance, the long thin branches moving gracefully over the lake beneath. It was a beautiful sight with striking bands of orange and purple slashing through the sky.

  “That scene in the bathroom.” He started. “I’m sure you can imagine how it confused me. I’ve told you before that the first week is imperative. Breaking a woman down, shattering her spirit as if it was no stronger than panes of glass, that’s what must be done in the first days.” Turning back to me, he added, “You break her with your fist and rebuild her with kindness, Holland. Not the other way around.”

  “I don’t think it has to be that way.” I argued.

  His eyebrows shot up, but he allowed me to continue.

  “Claire is responding without my having to lay an angry finger on her. You saw the tape…”

  “I saw her faking it, yes. They all attempt that at one point or another. You’ve achieved nothing.” He stood up from his chair, rounding the desk to sit on the edge directly in front of me. Leaning over so that we were face to face, he asked, “Do you think allowing her to play games is a way to break her? If so, your stupidity is as dangerous as your arrogance.”

  “Every Master is different. You said it yourself.”

  Amusement flooded his eyes. “Yes. And I’m considered the best, so what does that tell you about other Masters and their methods? Some work, others are a waste of fucking time.”

  His expression and body language didn’t give away his anger, but the way he kept moving did. Standing up from the desk, Aiden paced the room. “Not only did you bring home a woman who would be almost impossible to train quickly, you are fucking up the timeline by going against what you’ve been taught in favor of trying out a theory. We have one month to get her trained! Any more time than that and we lose thousands.”

  “It’s not like we’re releasing her into the world, Aiden. She’s being given to an owner who has lots of practice handling courtesans. She’ll be good enough in a month’s time.”

  He stopped pacing. His body didn’t move and his head didn’t turn in my direction. “Good enough? Did you seriously just say good enough?” Finally turning back in my direction, I finally saw the hint of expression on his face. It wasn’t anger or hatred. It was disbelief.

  “Do you understand what a Master does? Do you have any fucking clue?”

  “Of course, I know! You’ve been training me for three years!”

  He was in front of my face so fast, I’d barely registered that he’d moved. “Then you know that good enough is not what we do.” Spoken on a growl, his expression finally gave away his rage.

  My eyes flicked to Rebecca and I noticed that even she flinched at the fury evident in Aiden’s voice. I’d pushed him too far. Remembering that my life was precariously balanced on his training and our agreement, I relaxed back into my chair, not willing to challenge him any more than I already had.

  “You have one week with her before you have to go back to school, Holland. I’ve called off the house staff to give you that week undisturbed and without limitations. After that week is over, if she isn’t fully broken down, I’ll be finishing the training. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.” I spit the word out like it burned my tongue to even say it. Every muscle in my body tingling with an electrical charge, teeming in anger and contempt for the man that was standing in front of me. There was nothing I could do but follow the bastard’s directions. He was the Master. I was still the trainee. According to the society and my stepfather, that placed me in a position of absolute subservience.

  He rounded the desk to take his seat once again. Opening the leather bound day-calendar on his desk, he flipped a few pages before running his finger down one of them. “I’ll be scheduling her presentation for two weeks. It will be the first opportunity we have to monitor how she reacts to other men in the society and it will give us an additional two weeks to correct any behavior issues we find before she’s sold.” Looking up at me from the calendar, he reminded me, “As you know, the first presentation will be mostly attended by other Masters: Nathanial, Troy, Collin, Xavier and Anthony. They’ll be monitoring Claire as closely as the two of us. There will also be owners…”

  I knew what he was doing, but it didn’t make it any easier. “Will my stepfather be in attendance? More importantly, what will you be doing to Claire?”

  He grinned. “That’s not your concern. It’s mine. I’ll determine how the presentation is going to be held and it’s your job to ensure that she’s ready. I’ll be watching, Holland. Don’t ever allow yourself to think that I’m not paying attention.”

  “I don’t.”

  He nodded. “Then that’s all we had to discuss.” He paused, looking between Rebecca and me before adding, “Rebecca will be leaving in one week. You’re welcome to use her in your training until her new owner arrives. I noticed how Claire reacted to Rebecca’s willingness to take part. It bothered her more than taking the abuse from us. You can use that to your advantage.”

  Rebecca sobbed quietly on her pillow, the small sounds filling the space. Aiden grimaced. Angling his neck to the sides to relieve tension from the muscles, he said, “Rebecca, go to your room. I don’t want to hear your tears.”

  Without a word, she rose from the pillow, crossed the room quickly and disappeared through the door before closing it behind her.

  Allowing a few seconds to pass so that she would be outside of hearing distance, I asked, “You found someone who can afford the price for her?”

  Aiden smiled. “Not quite.”

  I didn’t respond, just simply stared at him while waiting for his explanation.

  “Yes. I found someone who can pay the price, the original price. However, that’s been raised. She is unique; one of a kind. She is more valuable to me than what I was once asking for her.”

  “So, how is it she’s leaving in a week? You just said there will be a new owner.”

  “As far as she knows.” He smiled again, before turning his attention to the now darkened sky outside his window. Area lights turned on throughout the garden, and even though the sun had set, the willow tree in the distance was still illuminated. The soft motion of its dimly lit branches was haunting against the black backdrop of the lake.

  “I never stop training, Holland. As a Master, I can’t afford to. Courtesans are not to show jealousy. They should never expect to be treated as anything more important than each other, and especially more important the man that owns them. His needs take precedent. Rebecca has forgotten that. Three years with me and she believes she’s safe in the life I’ve given her. She still rebels. She questions my activities with the women we train. She cries…as you’ve just seen.”

  “So you’re giving her up?”

  “I’m teaching her what happens when she pisses me off. She’s not being sold, she’s being borrowed.”

  “By whom?”

  “Edward Clark.”

  Bile shot up my throat. Edward Clark was an owner in the society who had attained his wealth from his dead father’s estate. Never having worked a day in his life, the man was as obese as he was ill mannered. As far as the members of the society could tell, hygiene was never a consideration to him and the courtesans that he’d bought and sold claimed he never had sex with them, just forced them to have sex with each other while he watched and played with himself. They were thankful for that because his body odor was enough to make a person cough from clear across a large room. The only reason he was even a member of the society was because his grandfather had been one of the founding members. The society was as ingrained in his life as it was in the rest of ours. We couldn’t judge him for his kinks and lifestyle without judging ourselves.

  “Holy shit, Aiden. Sleeping with someone as horrible as my stepfather would be preferable to Edward Clarke.”

  The evil way he smirked clued me in to the fact that I’d struck on the reason for his choice in owner. Glancing at me, he answered, “Sleeping with a pa
ck of wild dogs would be preferable to Edward Clarke. Which is the precise reason I chose him.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “So you’re basically scaring her back into submission.”

  “Exactly.” Turning back to me, he asked, “How do you train a woman who’s learned to enjoy pain? She rebels because she wants it and although the fact still endears me to her, I can’t allow her to manipulate me or even think she has the ability to manipulate me. Since the moment I introduced her to that crass son of a bitch, she’s been on her best behavior.” His eyes shot to her empty pillow. “Well, until now at least.”

  He played idly with the pen on the desk again, explaining, “She’ll be returned on the night of the presentation. He’ll only have her for a week. Once she’s back, she’ll be deloused immediately and replaced in my care until I find someone who can afford her.”

  “How can that happen if you keep raising the price?”

  The corner of his lips quirked. “That’s for me to worry about.”

  Finally dropping the pen, he pushed back in his chair to lift his feet and rest them on the surface of the desk. “Get some sleep, Holland. Resume Claire’s training in the morning. Keep her confused, disoriented, and for god’s sake, do not let her think for herself or play games. The longer she holds onto her own personality, the harder it will be for us to break her. The first few days are critical if we are going to succeed.”

  “Fine,” I answered.

  Knowing that the conversation had ended, I rose from my chair, crossed the room and let myself out the door. The halls were quiet and my steps echoed through the empty space. Finally reaching my room, I stripped off my jeans to lie down in bed. The pain in my back was still excruciating, so I turned to lie on my stomach. Hugging a pillow beneath my head and body, I drifted off into a restless sleep.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Claire

  I didn’t sleep at all that night. I would never grow used to the position I was forced to take by the cuffs and shackles across the thin mattress. My body trembled non-stop in the freezing cold of the room. The utter silence and my inability to see were just two more factors that kept me trapped in sensory deprivation, a type of mild stasis for the mind.

 

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