Page 68 of A Master's Destiny
I clench my fists, resenting the casual way he defames my father. But I know he’s only repeating what the press said about him, based solely on what my mother “leaked” to anonymous sources.
“You have no idea what you are talking about,” I reply in a voice far calmer than I feel. “You don’t know any more than I do about your father—if I were to believe the press.”
Slater grunts, finishing off his drink. “Point taken. How long has it been since he died?”
“I was fifteen when it happened.”
“Huh…that’s how old I was when my dad walked out.” He sounds surprised when he adds, “I guess we have more in common than I thought.”
Slater looks at me, saying in a livid voice, “If it hadn’t been for my mother holding down multiple jobs, we never would have survived. My fucking father hired lawyers to make sure he only paid the minimum child support the state allowed.”
He then adds in disgust, “All so he could dress his new wife in designer clothes and jet set around the world.”
Holding his glass, he toasts, “Thank God for our mothers.”
When I fail to lift my glass, he sounds offended. “What?”
Meeting his gaze, I state in a voice as cold as ice, “I will never toast to the beast.”
Slater’s lips curl into a sarcastic smile. “The bastard and the beast. Doesn’t that seem like a match made in heaven?”
Before heading down to class the next evening, I stop at the reception desk to confirm that Mistress Blaze will be attending the practicum despite last night’s interruption. My enthusiasm for the practicum has not diminished. In fact, my interest has only increased. So, I am relieved when Rachael informs me that the fire play session is still taking place.
The moment I enter the classroom, I sense a tangible difference. With Ashford gone, our classroom dynamic has changed. It’s as if an invisible weight has been lifted.
I nod to Slater before taking a seat next to Kat.
She looks amused. “What’s going on between you two?”
“We cleared the air last night.”
“It’s about time he got his act together,” Ravenson interjects, pulling out his notebook.
The male submissive from yesterday returns and now stands naked in front of the class. Alana takes up her pointer and picks up where she left off yesterday, continuing the lesson as if nothing ever happened. I stay focused on Alana’s words, take detailed notes, and have no problem pointing out the safe and unsafe zones for impact play when she calls on me to stand and name each of them.
But the moment the bell rings, I fly out the door, anxious to begin my first session with fire play. It feels as if I’ve been waiting forever for this chance.
Padded leather tables are spaced far apart in the large room in a circular pattern with Mistress Blaze as the focal point. It will allow her to watch and respond quickly to each of us.
A jar of fuel, a bucket of water, a fire blanket, water-soaked towels, and an extinguisher have been set out beside each table. I open my tool bag and set out the two fire wands I purchased for tonight.
Master Nosh stands in the room and informs us, “As you can see, we have prepared you with all of the necessary items needed should anything go wrong. Fire play is as exciting as it is dangerous, and it is not something an inexperienced Dom should ever attempt alone. Not only will Mistress Blaze be watching over you, but we have a staff member assigned to each student. They will be acting as your spotter and they are prepared to jump in to put out any stray flames.”
I can feel the tension in the room increasing, which only excites me more. The knowledge that I will be fully supervised throughout, allows me to navigate this scene with confidence.
I take off my jacket and quickly roll up my sleeves, ready to begin.
Before the submissives are called in, Mistress Blaze reminds us, “Never forget that we can cause harm if we are not diligent. Always be mindful where your fuel is—not just the jar of fuel, but any drips or fuel residue left on the skin.”
When the submissives enter, their excitement brings an energy to the room that feels similar to the buzzing electricity of a violet wand.
“Submissives, join your partner for the evening,” Master Nosh orders.
My heart skips a beat when the submissive with jet black hair approaches me. Her resemblance to my mother is unnerving. However, she is much younger and her eyes sparkle with anticipation—not the malice of the woman who raised me.
Thankfully, the woman’s facial features are not as refined as my mother’s, and I quickly take note of all of the subtle differences so I can disassociate her from the beast.
Bowing at my feet, she says solemnly, “I am at your service, Sir Davis.” Glancing up, she adds with a shy smile, “I specifically requested to scene with you and am deeply honored to be chosen.”
