Page 20 of Betrayed

“Describe her to me.”

He would not give up. “A small redhead who was very pregnant at the time, so I’m sure she had other things on her mind.”

“Regan,” he replied. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll address it.”

“Is it necessary that you know all of that?”

“Yes. We know that you’re unattached having lost your previous master, your husband, tragically a few years back. You live in Houston but travel for three hours to play here. Beyond that, there are holes we need to fill in. Your next dom will need to know about past relationships and support systems, which are very important in the lifestyle, particularly for submissives who are not local.”

A feeling of dread swept through her. She didn’t want them to know; it wasn’t anyone’s business. And she didn’t want to be matched up with a new dominant. Why did everyone think that was a submissive’s goal?A lot of the doms were single, enjoying a variety of play partners. That’s all she wanted. Why couldn’t she be like them?

It occurred to her that could be a problem. Would they dismiss her if she didn’t conform to what they decided was best for her, or normal? Then she’d have to find somewhere else. Maybe she could avoid him, or better, if she stalled long enough, maybe he’d forget.

She didn’t visit often, and he was usually busy by the time she arrived. Yes, that’s it. She’d put it off for as long as she could.

Mari answered with what he wanted to hear. “I’ll stop by on my next visit.” Adding silently, but it might be several weeks and hopefully by then you will have forgotten all about me.

Silence fell on the other end of the line.

“Right, um, was there anything else, sir? I’m running late for an appointment.” Another lie rolled easily off her tongue. She’d become adept at it in recent months when, before, with Derek, he would have taken her to task for even thinking about lying.

“No, that was it. I just wanted to check on you, to be sure.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“I’ll let you go, then and look forward to seeing you Saturday to get your file in order. Be there early so it doesn’t interrupt your play, and, little one, a word of caution. This isn’t something I’ll likely forget.”

Her mouth fell open. How had he known?

Then the rest of his words clicked. “Oh, but, Master Dex, I wasn’t planning another visit so soon.”

When silence greeted her protest, she looked at the screen and realized that he had already disconnected. Mari collapsed onto her pillows. Closing her eyes, she blew out a calming breath.

It would be a month before the cravings got so bad that they drew her back to San Antonio. In a month, she could have come up with a credible history, and more lies and deceit, but in a week...

A knot formed in her belly, like a fist clenching her stomach and not letting go. Maybe she’d just quit. Give it up, tamp it down, and somehow find a way to deny what she was. It’d be tough, but she’d survived much worse.

Unbidden, her thoughts turned to Master Arturo. He’d occupied them all the way home and had invaded her dreams, making her toss and turn all night. None of the others had such an effect on her. Ten, including one mistress.

Thinking something completely different would help her let go, she’d agreed when Mistress Anne had approached her. Too late, she realized a certain degree of arousal was necessary, and the test had been an unmitigated disaster. The awkward, uninspiring scene had quickly become painful when her body didn’t respond in the least.

The domme, who’d been scarier than all the men combined, had ended the intense session with the crop, released her nipple clamps, and switched off the wand buzzing relentlessly between her legs. She’d been so uptight even the Magic Wand, the super-charged mother of all vibes, hadn’t come close to sparking her arousal. When she’d turned down any sort of aftercare, the Mistress had looked at her with a mixture of irritation and sympathy.

“Girl, if you don’t get your head on straight, you’re just spinning your wheels at a club like this. Take my advice and see a shrink instead and stop wasting your money here, as well as everyone’s time.”

Her words had stung even though they were spot on true. Mistress Anne had caught up to her later when she was exiting the women’s locker room and pressed a slip of paper into her hand.

“A lifestyle-friendly shrink, little sub. Call her.”

Mari had found the wadded-up paper while cleaning out her car a few weeks later and discarded it. Unwilling to see shrink number four, no matter how kink-friendly she was supposed to be.

The phone, which she still clutched in a white-knuckled grip vibrated as her new, boring, old-fashioned telephone ringtone sounded. Her kids would make fun of it, lacking originality and personality they would say, but it suited her just fine: flat, colorless, lifeless.

Listlessly, she put the phone to her ear. “Yes?”

“Marilee, thank heavens you answered. It’s Adriana. I’ve got to leave town; my mother is ill.”

Sitting up, she reacted. “I’m so sorry, honey. Not too serious, I hope.”

---