The Master Read online

  Her breath was ragged, but she managed to speak to him. “I’m ready, Sir.”

  He repeated the stroke, landing the next stripe parallel to the first. Dylan had always prided himself on his accuracy in such matters. He wouldn’t break her skin, but he knew she had to be feeling this right to her core.

  Jodie screamed even before the cane landed, the terrifying whoosh of air sufficient to draw her response in advance of the burn left by the implement. Again, Dylan waited for her to compose herself.

  “That was the second. One more to go. Tell me when you want it.”

  She took a few moments, her fingers clawing at the bedclothes as she processed the sensations coursing through her. Then she lay still and turned her face toward him. “Now, please, Sir.”

  Dylan didn’t waste time. He selected his spot, caressed her tender skin with the cane for a few seconds, then lifted it and swung. The whistle shrilled, Jodie screeched, the cane landed with a resounding thud, and the sound reverberated around the room. She sobbed on the bed, and although they both knew the worst was now over she remained in position.

  Dylan put the cane aside and sat down next to her. Jodie turned onto her side and wriggled toward him. He reached for her and pulled her onto his lap where she snuggled against his chest. He kissed her hair.

  “You did well. You were brave.”

  “I’m sorry I swore at you.”

  “It’s over. Done with.”

  “Will you… will you fuck me? I need you inside me. I want—”

  “Shhhh, yes. I will, you know I will. But the ban on orgasms is still in place. You do know that?”

  “But you said it was over with.”

  He shook his head. “The caning was your punishment for swearing at me, for your disrespect in the dojang today, and that is over. You know that as well. The no orgasms rule is for not telling me what the fuck is going on with you. I’m still waiting for some change there.”

  “No. Please, I can’t… I can’t bear this.” She started to sob in earnest.

  Me neither.

  He fucked her as she’d requested but forbade her to come. He was not especially gentle; he knew she preferred her sex rough and he would always deliver. She writhed and groaned under him, arching her back when he took a handful of her hair and yanked it. She pleaded for release, but he wasn’t about to relent on that and of course, she obeyed. Her pussy contracted around him, his cock swelled, and his semen filled her. It was good, but not great. Not mind-blowing like before. The usual heady elation was missing, for him as well as for her.

  Still, she ate a little grilled chicken and rice, which he brought to her in bed, then she slept like a baby for a solid ten hours. He had plenty of time to lie beside her and to think.

  He was increasingly certain he was on the wrong tack. Spanking didn’t work, although the ginger was effective while it lasted. He had yet to see if the caning would have any lasting impact, and orgasm withdrawal lacked the immediacy he preferred in his disciplinary methods. Their relationship, their particular brand of kink might not be to everyone’s taste, but he and Jodie were both hardwired the same way. It worked for them—or it had. Not anymore. Jodie was downright miserable, he felt like a failure. Shit, something had to change.

  Perhaps it had, because the next morning Jodie seemed brighter.

  “Cereals or toast?” he asked when she opened her eyes.

  “Can I have both or is that too many carbs?”

  He grinned as he pulled on his jeans. “Cereals and toast coming up. Do you want a shower before we hit the gym?”

  “Yes, please.” She slid from the bed, shot him a smile that looked pretty genuine, and ambled across to the en suite. The three red stripes on her bottom glowed vividly and his cock twitched. Christ, but she was lovely. How could he contemplate giving her up, even for a moment? After a few seconds the sound of running water reached him, and if he was not seriously mistaken she might just be singing. Well, humming, but that was good enough.

  “I called Martha and suggested that she and Tanya join us in the dojang today.” A few minutes and one carb overload later, Dylan sipped at his coffee and regarded her across the small table in his kitchen. “I thought it might help as you’ll most likely be up against her again in Sheffield.”

  The National Taekwondo Championships were scheduled to take place in the sports arena in Sheffield in just ten days’ time.

  “Help who? Tanya or me?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Both of you, but mainly I want to observe, get the measure of the main competition.”

  Jodie shrugged. “Okay. It’ll be good to see Tanya again. I should apologise… I was a bit snappy with her last time we spoke.”

  “Oh? I thought you two were friends?” He put his cup in the sink intending to wash it later.

  “We are. It was when we were in Derby. She came looking for me in the toilets, said you were asking where I’d got to. I was on the loo, for heaven’s sake, but it wasn’t fair to take it out on her.”

  Dylan chuckled. “Right. I’ll remember never to interrupt you when you’re dealing with serious business. Okay, are you ready to go?”

  She shoved the last bit of her toast in her mouth and got slowly to her feet. “Ouch, that’s sore. I reckon Tanya’s gonna whoop my ass today.”

  “Well, you’d better not let her. That’s my job.” He patted her on the bottom and grabbed his car keys. “Let’s be going.”

  * * *

  He and Martha perched on benches at the edge of the dojang and watched their respective charges go through their paces.

  “Looks like your girl got her mojo back,” Martha observed. “Did you consult the shrink?”

  “No. I decided on a bit of alternative therapy and it seems to have worked.”

  “Oh? Care to share?”

  “I took a cane to her ass.”

  “Yeah, right.” She shot him a look of derision. “So, come on, spill. What did you really do? Because I want some of whatever you did for my girl.”

  He grinned. “Sorry, trade secrets. But you’re right, it does seem to have done the trick.”

  Dylan couldn’t recall having seen Jodie perform better. She was lightning across the mat, twisting, spinning, landing kick after kick, and fending off pretty much everything that Tanya threw at her. Even when stiff and coping with the residual soreness of a caning she outclassed Tanya completely. She was on form and as good as he’d ever seen her.

  “Jodie has to be a certainty for Tokyo,” Martha conceded. “I’m quietly optimistic that Tanya will make the squad too. She deserves to, she works hard but it all depends on the opposition on the day.”

  Dylan said nothing, but he knew what Martha meant. The other coach was realistic enough to realise that Tanya’s chances of getting into the Olympic squad relied pretty much on Jodie having another off day. It was not a situation he would relish. As a competitor himself he had always won or lost according to his own abilities, not those of others and he expected the same of Jodie.

  Or he had. Recently he was uncertain what to expect. But on the face of it she could win, and she should be able to earn that Olympic selection on her own merit.

  “That’s my water.”

  Jodie’s angry tone resonated across the dojang. Both girls had wandered over to the mini fridge and Jodie tried to snatch a bottle of water from Tanya. She only succeeded in causing the other girl to drop the bottle and spill the contents onto the floor.

  Jodie glared at a flustered Tanya. “Look what you’ve done now. If you think I’m cleaning that up—”

  “Jodie!” Dylan rapped out her name, his tone sharp. Already Tanya was heading for the storeroom in search of a mop. “Tanya, come back here and get yourself another drink, then take five. Jodie, you will clean this up. Now.”

  Jodie glared at him, her fists planted on her hips. “But it was her. She—”

  “Now,” he repeated, his tone deliberately arctic. He was gratified that she got the message at last and slunk off in the
direction of the storeroom.

  Dylan returned to where Tanya and Martha stood. Tanya was at once apologetic.

  “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. We were thirsty and went to get a drink, then suddenly she lost it and started yelling. I didn’t know it was her bottle or anything.”

  “It wasn’t. And I’m the one who should apologise. Jodie too. I’ll make sure she does when she’s finished mopping up.”

  Martha shook her head. “No, really, there’s no need. We ought to be going.” She smiled at him. “Just pre-competition jitters, that’s all. No harm done but we probably all need to calm down.”

  The practise session was over. Dylan had intended to invite Tanya and Martha to have a coffee with them, but he tended to agree with Martha that they could all do with a break.

  “Okay. Thanks for coming over and we’ll see both of you in a couple of weeks, in Sheffield.”

  He and Martha had discussed travelling up to South Yorkshire together. Now Dylan thought better of it and Martha seemed to agree.

  “Sure. See you then.”

  Jodie barely acknowledged Tanya’s goodbye as the other girl left. Dylan would have been disgusted at her ill manners had he not been so perplexed. Whatever, he’d had enough for now.

  “You can clear up in here then shower and change. Then you can lock up on your way out.”

  * * *

  The next day was a Sunday so they wouldn’t normally train. Since the nationals were just ten days away Dylan might have called Jodie in for the extra sparring practice but decided against it. She needed to cool down, to relax. And he needed to think.

  At lunch time he knew what he needed to do. A different approach, less formal. He might get her to open up if he spoke to her away from their usual more structured settings. In the dojang or his apartment he was her master, one way or another. Maybe he just needed to try being a man who appreciated the company of a beautiful woman.

  He phoned a high-end Thai restaurant close to his home and booked a table for two. Then he texted Jodie.

  Dinner tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven. Posh dress.

  He half expected her to turn him down. Dylan was geared up to insist when her reply pinged into his inbox.

  Lovely. Thank you. See you later.

  So far, so good.

  He pulled up outside her block just before seven. Again, she must have been watching for his car because she came out a few moments later as he was walking toward the door. She wore a gorgeous blue dress, calf-length and with a neckline just low enough to keep his attention but not to cause a traffic hazard. Her sandals were delicate but low-heeled and classy. His breath hitched as he leaned in to kiss her.

  “You look stunning.”

  “You did say posh dress. I bought this today. I thought it would do for the party in Sheffield, too.”

  “Good choice.” After the serious business of the championships was concluded there would be some sort of glamorous social event to celebrate the successes and help alleviate the disappointment of the losers. Jodie always enjoyed such functions, one of the reasons he’d thought the agreement with HLS Bank was so appropriate for her. She was a demon in a dobok and looked equally at home in an elegant evening gown. She should wow the bank’s shareholders and senior managers.

  Dylan offered her his arm and helped her into his car. “It’s not far, just a few minutes. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starving,” she confirmed.

  He was glad of the light mood. Perhaps this evening would be a success, but if not, he knew what he had to do. It was best, for all concerned.

  Jodie enjoyed her starter of spicy shrimp soup and even took a bite of one of Dylan’s spring rolls draped in sweet chilli sauce. They chose the same main course, a dish that gloried in the name of Pad See Ew on the menu and consisted of fat rice noodles darkened with lashings of soy sauce. The noodles were sticky, and each time either of them grabbed a chopstick-full they seemed to lift up half of what was on the plate.

  “Oh, no, I don’t want to get any drips on this dress. I’d never be able to get it cleaned in time for Sheffield. Is Thai food supposed to be so messy?”

  Dylan was pleased to see her obviously enjoying herself, relaxed for once. He poured her another glass of the dry Riesling he had ordered to accompany their food. He was driving so drank sparingly himself, but Jodie was making up for his caution. He waited until the waiter had removed their empty plates and they were contemplating the dessert menu before approaching the real reason they were here.

  “You know, I may be your coach, and your dom, but I’d like to think I’m your friend, too.”

  She glanced across the table at him, her expression suddenly wary. “Of course you are.”

  “So, you agree, we’re close, right? You can talk to me about anything.”

  “I know that. Same goes for you.”

  “Okay, so tell me what’s been bothering you lately. I know you better than I know myself, Jodie. I can tell something isn’t right and I want to help.”

  She crumpled her napkin and tossed it onto the table. “I thought we were out for a nice dinner, not the third degree again. Why can’t you just let things drop?”

  Despite his rising irritation he schooled his tone to remain low and even. “Because I care. I care about you, and about your career. And I want to help. That’s what friends do.”

  “Do they? I thought friends respected personal space and knew when to shut up and back off.”

  “I don’t mean to upset you, Jodie. You must know I wouldn’t do that. But we have a problem here and I want to sort it.”

  “Well, you can’t. Because there isn’t a problem except in your head and I’m so sick of you going on about it.”

  Dylan would have responded but the waiter arrived to take their dessert order.

  Jodie shook her head, her expression tight and tense. “I don’t want anything. I just want to go home now.”

  “Okay. Just the bill, then, please.”

  The waiter nodded and hurried off.

  Dylan took a deep breath. He was out of options. “Jodie, this can’t go on.”

  “I know, so—”

  He held up one hand to silence her. “I give up. I can’t do everything you need, be all that you need. I have to concentrate and prioritise, and we agreed from the start that your career comes first. That’s why I want to cool things between us, at least until after the nationals and the Olympic selection.”

  She blanched and fell back as though he had actually hit her. “No,” she breathed. “Please, don’t say that.”

  “I have to. I owe it to you and to our sport to put your taekwondo first. Our personal stuff will just have to wait.”

  “You’re finishing with me.” Her words came out on a low croak. Her gorgeous blue eyes were already brimming with tears.

  “Not finishing, exactly. Putting on hold. It’s for the best.”

  “How can it be for the best? It’s having you as my dom that keeps me sane. Grounded. You’re the best thing in my life and now you’re saying you want to dump me. Please, Dylan, please don’t do this.”

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Look, we’ll be seeing each other every day. I’m still your coach and I’ll be there for you every step of the way to Tokyo.”

  “I need you…”

  “I know, and you have me. But for now, we’re going to keep things strictly professional and not let anything else get in the way. Eyes on Sheffield, Jodie, then Tokyo. No distractions. Okay?”

  She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. The waiter returned with their bill and the complimentary tray of mints then hovered at a discreet distance while Dylan settled the amount owing. Dylan slipped his card back into his wallet and smiled at a now distraught Jodie. He hadn’t expected her to take this well, but her grief seemed disproportionate. Like so much else of late.

  “Come on, I’ll drop you off at home.”

  Obedient as a lamb, with her head down, she followed him fr
om the restaurant.

  Chapter Nine

  Sharp daggers pierced Jodie’s head the moment she opened her eyes. She squeezed them shut again and groaned. Why did she feel like she had been through a meat grinder? She forced down a wave of nausea and burrowed deeper under the duvet.

  The next time she surfaced, she was able to keep her eyes open for long enough to make them focus on the clock by her bed. Eleven-fifteen. Why did that seem important? She took in a few gulps of stale air and tried to stop the room from spinning. When it wouldn’t, she closed her eyes again and prayed she wouldn’t throw up.

  She needed to pee, but the thought of having to leave the warmth of her bed made her squeeze her pelvic floor muscles until she couldn’t hold it any longer. She staggered to the bathroom, holding onto one side of her head as if she was afraid it would fall off.

  Water! She needed water. Her parched mouth was so dry that she couldn’t even gather enough saliva to swallow. She fumbled for the glass she normally used when cleaning her teeth, ran the cold tap then held it under the flow with a shaking hand. The water was bliss. She gulped down three full glasses before her thirst was quenched then made her way tentatively back to her room. Her footsteps were unsteady and her legs weak. As soon as she reached her bed she collapsed back onto it then curled her body into a tight ball, willing her head to stop pounding.

  Very slowly the fog started to clear, allowing her to catch small glimpses of the night before. But the more she remembered, the heavier her heart became. Then the tears started again as pain squeezed her heart so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. She had lost the one thing that had been saving her from hitting the depths of despair. Dylan had dumped her.

  She moaned as the events of last night finally caught up with her. She’d already had a bit too much wine at the restaurant. She wasn’t used to drinking alcohol anymore so it had gone straight to her head even before the main course had arrived. But she had sobered up pretty fast when Dylan had told her that he wanted to cool things between them. She’d tried to argue, but she could tell he had made his mind up and no amount of pleading would change it. Well, there was one thing, but that wasn’t an option. Even so, she had come frighteningly close to telling him about George Hartwell’s blackmail, but her sponsor’s words of warning had rung in her head so she had kept quiet and retreated under the cloak of denial that was becoming so familiar to her.