OnlyatTheCavern (15 page)

She joined the pair back on the stage and positioned the
captain under the bar. “The one thing I will never tolerate is your disrespect.
I have been kind to you and my kindness ends now. Grab on to the bar.”

The captain’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard, but he
grabbed the bar without a word of protest.

She stepped behind him and said to Madeline, “Strip him. And
take your time.”

“Yes ma’am.” Madeline giggled and ran her hands down his
chest before grabbing the sides of his pants and lowering them to the floor in
a long glide.

Jasmine focused on securing the straps around his wrists and
not on the sight of Madeline’s hands on his skin. The two had participated
together in play before, but seeing her friend score her nails down the
captain’s naked backside made her throat burn and a pool of jealously swirl in
her stomach.

The reaction was crazy. He wasn’t hers. Not in that sense.
He was an object to find pleasure with and bring pleasure to. He was hers to do
with as she wished, and if she wanted him to fuck every woman in the club, that
was her prerogative. Right? Right?

“Your whip, Mistress.” Jorges appeared at her side with whip
in hand.

“Thank you.”

The captain jerked his head around and looked at her in
disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak then snapped it shut and turned back
around. The muscles in his back bunched and rolled and his breathing quickened.

That’s right, pretty boy. Time to put up or shut up. “Stand
back, Madeline. Let’s see just how much he likes my sting.”

Madeline backed up and sat on her knees. “He’s sweating
already, Jasmina.”

“Good.”

Crack. Crack.
A red “X” covered his entire back in
razor-thin lines.

He gasped and jerked. His grip on the bar tightened as it
swung back and forth with his movements.

“Don’t turn around,” she said as he turned his head to look
back at her. “I wouldn’t want to mark that handsome face of yours.”

She let the whip fly three times in rapid succession. After
counting to ten, she struck each butt cheek then again across his back.

“Hey, Maddie. Rookie here is a breast man. Show him how
pretty your tits are.”

“With pleasure.” She pulled down the zipper on the front of
her corset and parted the sides as if she were a flasher on a dark street
corner. “Get a load of these babies.”

Jasmine went back to work, adding more strips of red to his
skin. With each lash he let out moan and swayed on his feet. In the room of
fifty-plus people, all were silent except for the players on the stage. Jasmine
and the crack of her whip, the captain with his gasps of pleasure-pain and
Madeline who cooed as she watched him absorb each stroke.

“God, you should see his face, Jaz. And his cock. He’s so
hard and tasty looking. I want to suck him so bad.”

No!

The tip of the whip caught him over the shoulder harder than
she intended, leaving a thick red welt.

Fuck.

Her hand went slack with shock. The whip hit the floor with
thud as she struggled to catch her breath.

Get your shit together, Jasmine.

Doubt of her abilities, as a Dom, as a woman, circled her
like a vulture ready to pick her apart down to the marrow. Her knees threatened
to buckle, she was ready to fall at his feet and ask for his forgiveness, but
she held her ground. Out here, in full view of everyone was not the time to
show any hesitation. It was in her power to pull back from the edge.

She left the whip where it lay and pressed her front along
his sweaty back. His skin felt as if it were on fire and burned her through the
silk and lace.

“How about it, Rookie? Would you like that?” she taunted
even as the very thought made her stomach roll. “Do you want Madeline’s mouth
on you?”

“No,” he panted. “Only yours.”

“You don’t get to choose.” She stepped to his side to reach
around and grabbed his cock at the base in a rough grip. “You do as I say and I
say you come. Now. I want you to come all over Maddie’s breasts.”

“No.” He turned his feverish eyes toward her. His hot breath
washed over her lips as his cock kicked in her hand, but still he resisted. “I
want you. Only you. You’re the only one who gets my cum.”

“Come on her now,” she snarled.

“Only you,” he growled back.

She brushed her lips against his ear and moaned, “Come for
me. Marco.”

Marco.

For the first time, she called him by name. Not Captain. Not
Rookie. But Marco. Addressing him as a person worthy enough to be granted the
gift of familiarity and the reaction was just what she intended. The pupils of
his eyes expanded, with realization before they rolled back and his cock
jerked, spraying cum all over Madeline’s heaving breasts. Jasmine gritted her
teeth and worked his cock, milking his erection for every drop as he shuddered
in her arms.

“You bitch,” he mumbled as his head lolled upon his neck as
if he were drunk. “Well played, Mistress. Well played.”

Instead of the euphoria of satisfaction at breaking him
singing through her veins, it felt as if sand filled her body. Gritty, hot,
itchy sand that made her limbs heavy with regret.

What the hell just happened? Where was her control?

There was no need to look any further than this moment as an
example of how not to treat a submissive. She was unhappy. The captain was
unhappy. The only person who had derived any pleasure was Madeline who was
enthusiastically rubbing his cum into her nipples.

Tears blurred her vision as she realized the awful truth.
She failed her submissive.

“Jaz, I’m right behind you,” Jorges said as he steadied both
her and the captain while a steward worked on freeing his wrists.

“My room. Now.” She brushed his hands away. “Help him. I can
walk.”

“I don’t think so, Jaz. You’re not looking so hot.”

“I’ll run ahead and prepare the room.” She bent to retrieve
her whip and leapt off the stage without another glance backward. She raced
from the room with murmurs of confused patrons filling her ears.

The captain’s needs. That was her only concern. Everything
else, every thought that had nothing to do with the captain’s welfare didn’t, couldn’t,
exist. Focusing on that one task kept the jitters out of her hands and the
tears from falling while she prepared the bed for his arrival.

The men were only a few minutes behind her with the captain
grumbling his displeasure over being carried by Jorges and the steward. “I can
walk.”

Jorges chuckled. “Not this time, Rookie. Trust me.”

“Please, Marco. Relax. Lie on your belly,” she pleaded in a
soft voice.

His lashes fluttered and he stared at her for several
seconds before nodding and following the directive without a sound. Jorges fell
just as silent as they both sensed trouble on the horizon yet didn’t know from
where the danger lay.

“Call me, if you need anything,” Jorges said and motioned
for the steward to follow.

She grabbed the steward’s wrist as he turned to leave them
and whispered, “Wait outside by the door please.”

His eyes flicked back at the captain before he nodded.

“Thank you,” she said and climbed onto the bed to kneel by
Marco’s side.

After he settled, she placed her hand on the small of his
back and reached for a cool compress. Creating a secure environment was crucial
at this stage and the constant physical contact helped establish that security.

“Rest. Don’t move, don’t speak,” she said and layered rows
of damp cloth over his red back. “Your body needs time to readjust.”

At the top of his shoulder was the spot her whip struck the
hardest and the bitter tang of regret filled her mouth. Fortunately the welt
was going down but forevermore he’d carry the mark of her carelessness.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice thick with shame and
applied antibiotic ointment on the cut. “I know better than to strike out in
such a way. I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

He chuckled into the pillow. “I kind of liked it. Showed me
you didn’t like the thought of Mistress Madeline touching me. I knew you
cared.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I care about your well-being,”
she said, deliberately avoiding the meaning of his statement. “Now rest.”

“I’m not sleepy. Besides, I love your sponge baths.”

“Really. Then why are your eyes closed?”

“The better to feel you with, my dear.”

“Uh-huh.” She pushed her fingers into his thick hair and
rubbed his scalp.

“Damn, woman,” he sighed while she mentally began counting.
By the time she reached twenty-two, the sound of his soft snores reached her
ears.

Aside from the welt, any other marks on his body were
superficial and already started to fade. Relief that she hadn’t done any other
permanent damage was short-lived. Deeper issues had raised their hands for
attention and to not acknowledge them was only going to make things worse.

Just like anyone else, she hated confrontations, but she
never ran from them either. The best course of action was to be as mentally and
physically prepared as possible, and being dressed in a silk robe appearing as
if ready for a dirty fuck wasn’t going to cut it.

Marco settled deeper into the mattress as she covered him
with a blanket and brushed the hair off his forehead one last time. She crept
to the door and eased out into the hall.

“I’m going to change clothes and be back in a minute,” she
informed the steward. “He’s sleeping now, but let me know if he tries to leave.
I should be back before he wakes.”

“Yes, Mistress. Do you want me to make him stay if he tries
to leave?”

“Ask him to stay, but he may leave if he wishes. I’ll make
it quick so it doesn’t become an issue.”

The steward nodded and she all but ran back to the dressing
area. In her experience, he should be out for a while after the scene they just
experienced, but Marco had proven time and again he wasn’t a normal man.

To her dismay the dressing room was occupied when she
arrived, and by none other than Madeline and two other Mistresses.

“That was quite the show, Jaz,” Madeline said as she leaned
forward toward the mirror and adjusted her breasts in her corset. “I love to
watch you bend them to your will.”

Jasmine accepted the praise with a polite smile as she
changed into a rather sedate, black knee-length skirt and emerald-green blouse.
The only concession to the club scene was the thigh-high boots she tugged over
her knees. Nothing about her behavior of the evening felt praise-worthy, but
she didn’t have time to banter with the other women, or contradict them. All of
her energy was needed for the near future.

She wished the women a hasty goodnight then raced back to
her dungeon.

The steward stepped away from the door as she neared. “All’s
quiet.”

“Thank you.” She opened the door and peeked inside. Marco
was awake and sitting up with the white sheet draped across his lap.

He looked so sexy and tousled as he rubbed his eyes with the
heel of his hands and his hair stuck up in all directions. So warm and manly.
She wanted to crawl beside him, tug him back down and sleep the rest of the
night away.

For a heartbeat, one long solitary heartbeat, she considered
doing just that. Then she drew in a breath and her gaze landed on the neatly
stacked pile of his clothes on the stool to her right. The outline of his
handcuffs was visible through the pocket of his pants. A reminder of their
outside lives that cut off the irrational train of thought before it split and
divided into a cancer that grew out of control.

“Hey,” he said and scratched at his chest with a yawn. “I
didn’t mean to crash like that.”

“I’m surprised you’re not still asleep.” She crossed to the
mini-refrigerator and withdrew a bottle. “Here, drink this.”

“Thanks.” He took the bottle of water and chugged half of it
down in three large gulps. “I didn’t realize how much energy is expended when
being whipped.”

His wink didn’t make her feel any better. “Captain—”

“I love those boots on you,” he interrupted. “But I don’t
like the frown on your face.”

She smoothed her hands over her hips and straightened her
spine. “Captain, this evening has proved to me that we are not looking for the
same things from this relationship. I am letting you out of your contract. If
you still wish to continue your exploration of your submissive side, I can,”
God, she could barely speak the words, “arrange for you to be with another
Mistress.”

“What the fuck?” He sprang from the bed in all of his naked
glory. “Jasmine, what’s this about?”

“That. That right there. Your disrespect for protocol is
what this is about. For your safety I must remain in control. I cannot have you
deliberately provoking me. It’s too dangerous.”

He sighed and rubbed at his neck. “Okay. I’m sorry, I was
being an ass. But that doesn’t mean that we have to stop.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Is this—is this because I asked you
out?”

She shifted on her feet. “There are several factors that
went into my decision.”

“Oh my God. It does.” He shook his head and stalked closer.
“What is so wrong about wanting to spend more time with you?”

“I already told you, I don’t have the time to give. Look,
I’m not going to rehash an old argument. It’s best to end things now.”

“Best for who? Damn it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose,
his lips tightened over his teeth as his body shuddered. “I don’t know what has
you pushing me away, but let’s talk this out.”

“There is nothing else to talk about. I’m sure in the
morning you will see that I’m not what you’re looking for and realize that
there is someone else more suited for your needs.”

“Right now all I see is a woman who is running from an
imaginary problem. This isn’t like you. You’re the great Mistress Jasmina.” He
stalked closer and she inched away from the flames of anger and disbelief that
burned in his eyes. “You make men like me fall on their knees begging to please
you. You’re not afraid of anything, yet now you’re acting like a coward. Why?”