Masquerades and Charades, page 15
But she wasn't afraid anymore, just royally pissed off. "You want to know the real reason why I never visit, Dad?"
"Madison, don't," Mom said from her chair, pressing a shaking hand to her forehead. "It's Christmas."
"He started this conversation," Madison said through clenched teeth, holding herself perfectly still, afraid if she moved so much as an inch, she would explode.
"Let's talk about something else," Mom said. "Jamie, you mentioned you'd like some copies of those pictures I showed you yesterday? Well, I scanned off a few of them for you last night. Let me go get them—" She started to get up.
"Sit down, Jane," Dad growled.
It was the last straw. Madison closed her eyes, but couldn't keep her mouth closed any longer. "Don't talk to her like that!"
She'd heard the saying "the silence was deafening" and always wondered at its meaning. Now she knew. Her every nerve ending hurt from the silent tension now in the air around them.
"Daughter," her father began in a barely controlled growl. "I love you, but you will shut your mouth unless you can speak to me respectfully—"
"Why? You don't talk to her respectfully. Why should any of us speak respectfully to you? Respect is a two-way street, Dad."
This was happening. This was really happening. How many times had she imagined telling her father what she really thought of the way he'd treated his wife for decades? She'd never dared to before, though. She'd always been such a daddy's girl, both hating and loving him. It was hard to hate someone who treated you like a princess. But she was sick of the guilt she'd lived with for years for being the only one in this family that he didn't order around like a lap dog.
The cork had been popped. And she couldn't reseal the bottle.
She turned to face him fully, walking into the center of the room, prepared to run out the front door as soon as she said what needed to be said finally.
"Dad, I love you. I really, really do. But for years now, I've listened to you order her around and treat her like a dog. Like, worse than a dog." She hesitated then decided to go all the way with it. "You want the truth? Well, here it is. Connor's club isn't just some bar with dancing. It's a bondage club, Dad. And I work there as a dominatrix. And before you ask, yes, that's with the whole leather, whips and chains included. I get paid to tie people up and beat them. And even then, I talk to them nicer than you do Mom. But she stays with you. Why? Because she loves you." Madison looked at the ceiling and shook her head. "I can't watch you do this to her anymore. I love you. But I can't be here any longer." She walked over to her mother, barely aware of hot tears trailing down her cheeks as she bent over and gave her mother a fierce hug. "Love you." She went to hug her dad, but he leaned away in his recliner, his eyes shooting furious sparks her way. "Still love you too, Dad."
Then she turned and walked out of the house, so furious her entire body vibrated with it from head to toe. She didn't know what to do with the energy, her body felt like it would explode if she tried to keep it in much longer. So she paced back and forth by the car until Connor and Jamie hurried out of the house to join her.
"Let's go," she said, waiting for Connor to unlock the car so she could get in.
They drove back to the hotel in silence. They'd reserved the room till tomorrow, planning to leave in the morning for home. But when they got to the hotel lobby and she realized she was about to be cooped up in a small hotel room with all this residual angry energy raging around inside her, she turned to the right and made a beeline for the hotel bar instead. Thank God at least one of the hotel workers was still manning the bar on the holiday.
She showed her ID then ordered a double rum and Coke and started chugging.
"That is going to be a terrible idea in the morning," Connor murmured as he sat on the barstool to her left, while Jamie took the one to her right.
"I think it's the perfect solution," Jamie said, ordering the tallest glass of dark ale that they had. "It's Christmas. What else is the holiday good for except getting smashed out of your mind?"
A humorless note of laughter burst out of Madison. She shook her head and drank her drink faster, switching from the straw to holding the straw out of the way and chugging straight from the edge of the glass. She didn't set the glass down until she was a fourth of the way through it.
Sighing, Connor ordered a shot of Jamison with Sprite, which he sipped.
Jamie leaned forward, looked past Madison at Connor, and snorted. "What, afraid of a little hangover there, princess?"
Connor glared at him. "Someone's going to need to hold your hair in a few hours, dear."
Madison closed her eyes and tipped her head back. "Oh my God. Would you two stop already? I've just had enough family drama to last a lifetime, thank you very much."
Jamie snorted again. "You call what just happened drama? Oh baby, you have no idea. Wait till I take you home to see my family next year for Christmas. Then we can talk about family drama. Bunch of religious fanatical freaks." He drank another third of his glass.
Madison turned her head to look at Connor with raised eyebrows.
Connor made a face. "Jamie's family are—"
"A bunch of judgmental assholes," Jamie finished.
Madison sighed. "So all our families are screwed up then? Guess that explains us." She pulled a few more gulps from her drink, taking the slower route again through the straw. Then she propped an elbow on the bar and rested her forehead in her hand. "I can't believe I just did that. Said all that. To my dad. Who's dying." She closed her eyes. "I'm the real asshole. I just fucked up Christmas. For everyone. We could be home right now by the fireplace."
"Mmm hmm," Jamie agreed. "Fucking like Easter bunnies."
"Wrong holiday," Madison said with a half-smile. She couldn't believe she was even capable of that much of a smile still. Was she drunk already and just didn't know it? She had always been a lightweight. But still, she'd only had half her drink.
Connor reached over to rub her back, but she swiveled her stool to face him and move her back out of his range.
"Don't. Please," she whispered, locking gazes with him, desperately needing him to understand the rejection. "I can't handle that right now. I need booze, not more tears." If he kept touching her sympathetically, she'd break down for sure.
He hesitated then nodded and turned to face the bar.
"Sorry," she muttered as she turned to face the bar too.
"Don't apologize," Jamie grumbled. "I did that shit for years. All the sorrys in the world don't change a damn thing. Be who and what you are, and fuck the world if they can't take it."
But she was too exhausted to be angry with Jamie now either. All her anger was already draining away, leaving her bone weary and clueless as to what to do next or how to fix what she'd just done, or if it should even be fixed at all.
She'd meant what she'd said. But she shouldn't have said it. Not now. Not on what could have been the last Christmas she might ever spend with her father…
Oh shit. She was going to break down.
She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the tears burning down her cheeks now, as she furiously sipped at her drink.
"Come on," Connor said, sliding off his stool and tugging at her shoulders.
"But…I haven't finished my drink," she mumbled miserably.
"That's not what you really need right now."
She slid off her stool while Jamie paid the tab. Then they took her hands and led her towards the elevator, then their room in silence.
As soon as the hotel room door clicked shut behind them, Connor turned around and started kissing Madison. But his kisses weren't gentle or sweet or soft. They were aggressive, rough, almost bruising with their demands.
Her pulse took off, and suddenly the three of them were all hands and fingers fumbling and tugging off shirts and belts and pants, feet kicking off shoes, and then falling onto the bed.
Connor turned on the TV, and Madison groaned in complaint. "TV? Now?"
"Noise coverage," he bit out, then bent over to dig in her suitcase. He stood up with two pairs of bondage cuffs, their keys sticking out of one of their locks, and a huge handful of coiled red rope.
Her lips parted on a surprised smile. "When did you sneak those into my suitcase?"
"After you had them packed." Connor walked towards her, and she started to take a step back before realizing what she was doing. She held her ground, letting him close the short distance between them.
He held out the cuffs.
She hesitated. In a hotel room? Wouldn't they be overheard, maybe even kicked out?
Then again, would she really care if they were?
Biting her lower lip, Madison took the cuffs from him, and Jamie was all too happy to wait while she cuffed Connor first. Then she turned to Jamie on his knees on the bed and cuffed him too.
But where to tie them? The headboards were just plain wooden rectangular panels screwed to the walls. No railing to tie to there.
Connor bent over and pulled up the bed skirt to reveal the bed rested on a metal frame with a wheel at each corner. He helped her thread the lengths of rope through the metal loops on Jamie's cuffs. Jamie scooted up onto the center of the bed on his back, and Connor and Madison tied his wrists to each corner wheel of the bed closest to the wall. They used two more lengths of rope to tie Jamie's ankles to the remaining two wheels on the bed so he was tied spread eagle.
"That is so freaking sexy," Madison murmured.
Jamie laughed. "She said freaking. Isn't that cute?"
Madison used her bare hand to pop the outside of his nearest thigh hard.
Jamie let out a high-pitched grunt through his nose. "Hey, I wasn't ready yet!"
"Then get ready, little boy," Madison said with a grin that felt more than a little naughty. She turned to Connor with a single arched eyebrow. "What about you?"
"I'm your love slave," he answered simply. "I'll do whatever you command, Mistress."
She smiled slowly, feeling the first hint of an alcoholic buzz beginning. Vaguely she remembered Connor once saying that the only alcohol that should be involved in bondage was alcohol wipes for cleaning up with. Too late now. She really liked the direction they were headed, and had zero intention of stopping until she'd had her fill of them.
Sitting in only her bra and panties in one of the two chairs by the window, she crossed her legs, leaned back comfortably, and starting dishing out orders to Connor.
"Suck his cock."
"Yes, Mistress." Grinning, Connor crawled onto the bed, moving down into position between Jamie's spread legs. He tugged Jamie's underwear down till his erection popped free, then took Jamie into his mouth and began to suck on him in long, hard pulls that made Jamie's hips arch off the bed.
They were so damn beautiful together.
How could it be possible to love not one but two people so completely like this?
She didn't understand it. But she did. She was so in love with them, the emotion made it hard to breathe.
"That's it," she whispered as Jamie's hip thrusts sped up, showing Connor's expertise at giving head was bringing Jamie to a rapid orgasm.
She jumped to her feet. "Wait. Don't let him come yet."
Connor immediately raised his head, and Jamie groaned.
Smiling, Madison stood by the bed and wagged an index finger where Jamie could see it. "Jamie, you may not come until I expressly say you can tonight. Do you understand?"
His lower lip stuck out in an adorable pout. "Yes, Mistress."
Oh, how she loved to hear them call her that.
This was going to be so much fun. Maybe the best ending to a terrible Christmas ever.
***
The next morning, Madison rolled over and groaned. But not from a hangover.
Flashes of memory from last night kept stabbing through her mind, and had been from the second she'd woken up.
She'd gone into some kind of dominant frenzy. In trying to escape what had happened at her parents', she'd thrown herself way too into the Domme role-playing. For hours, she'd used Connor to torture Jamie, bringing him to the edge of orgasm over and over. Then she'd had Connor straddle Jamie's face and used Jamie's mouth to reverse the torture, bringing Connor close to orgasm multiple times.
Then she'd made them watch while she'd played with herself while sitting in the chair, legs spread, heels propped up on the edge of the bed so they could have a good view of her fingers teasing her own pussy until she came.
Then she'd sat on Jamie's face and had him lick her clean while Connor played with her nipples, until she was ready to go again. And then she'd had them take her and then each other by turns so many times she lost count.
She'd never been such an exhibitionist before. Never been so mean to a sub, either.
She wished she could blame it all on the alcohol. But she hadn't had that much to drink. No, what had come out of her last night had been pure anger. Anger at her fucked-up parents, and she'd allowed it to make her act fucked up in turn.
She remembered popping Connor on the ass several times with her bare hands since they hadn't brought any floggers or canes and had no kitchen utensils, and slapping their asses with the room service menu had made way too much noise even for her frenzied mind to be comfortable with.
And the things she'd said…
She buried her face in her pillow, wishing she could forget.
And then it hit her, and her eyes popped wide open to stare up at the ceiling.
She'd spoken to her lovers exactly like her father spoke to her mother.
A chill raced down over her skin, even the parts of her buried under the covers and twisted up between Connor and Jamie's combined body heat.
What had she done? How could she have let herself go there?
No matter how angry she was with her parents, she never should have allowed the anger to vent like that.
It made her no better than her father.
Because she was angry, she'd been verbally abusive towards the two people who trusted her the most.
She turned her head carefully, saw Jamie's hand resting on her hip on top of the sheets, bright welts on the inside of his wrist from the cuffs last night. She wondered what his ankles would look like too.
Faint nausea twisted her stomach.
She eased out from the bed, carefully climbing over Connor. Usually he woke up and helped her over. But she must have really worn him out last night, because he barely mumbled something and simply pulled the comforter back over him once she was out of the bed.
She couldn't look at them. She dug through her suitcase for some clean clothes then ducked into the bathroom, locking the door and taking a long, scalding hot shower.
But even the hottest water couldn't erase memories of what she'd said last night. How she'd gleefully finger fucked Jamie in the ass with only her spit for lubrication while Connor fucked his mouth. How she'd reveled in not allowing either of them to come for hours…
She washed herself from head to toe twice, and still it wasn't enough.
She was turning into her father. Not a Domme, but a bully. Mean. A heartless bitch, reveling in someone else's pain for her own pleasure.
Connor and Jamie had shown her that wasn't how a true Domme acted. A real dominant cared about their subs. They took care of them. If they hurt them, it was for the sub's psychological release, not the Domme's.
They'd trusted and obeyed her every command, and she'd used that submission to punish them for something that wasn't even their fault.
She turned off the water and got out of the tub, scouring her skin dry with the towel until her skin burned. Once she was dressed, her teeth brushed, her hair pulled back into a simple high bun and the bare minimal makeup on, she took a deep breath to try and steady her roiling stomach then exited the bathroom.
"Guys," she said. "Time to go home."
***
Connor
He sat in the viewing room, trying to keep a tight rein on his growing frustration.
Madison was pissing off the clients, had been for two weeks now. They kept complaining that she was way too soft, coming across like a shy sub instead of the Domme they'd paid for. One of them had even demanded a refund.
He had a feeling he knew what was wrong. She was still upset over the scene that went down at her parents' Christmas day. But part of being a professional meant learning how to either compartmentalize and use work to forget about personal issues, or find a way to channel the personal issues in a constructive way into the work.
Madison was doing neither, and she was starting to hurt their business.
He would have to say something to her. Maybe convince her to take some time off. But damn, he was dreading that conversation.
No matter how he worded it, she was going to be either pissed off or humiliated.
This was one of those rare instances when he hated being the boss.
Checking the schedule, he saw that Jamie was just finishing with a client by now. He fired off a quick text to him.
Brace yourself. Gotta talk to M tonight. Xmas seems to be hurting her work.
It took Jamie fifteen minutes to reply—just the words oh hell—during which Connor was able to see ample evidence to support Madison's clients' complaints for himself. She spoke barely above a whisper, her attitude diffident and listless. She barely hit her client with the flogger, which because of its floppy leather straps, required serious intent behind every strike to have much effect on the skin anyway. Tonight, she made it barely even make a sound.
Another boss would have probably fired her, or at least officially suspended her.
He wouldn't go that far with her, though. Just suggest a nice vacation, which she hadn't really gotten anyway. Maybe with a few days of rest and good sleep, she'd be able to refocus on doing a good job again.
And consider staying at his apartment again. Because for the last two weeks, all she'd had were excuses for staying at her and Kate's apartment every night instead of with him and Jamie. And he really missed her. In fact, he hadn't gotten much sleep lately without her. He loved Jamie, but Jamie's body temp ran too hot while he slept, which forced Connor to hug his own side of the bed and throw off the blankets all night long. Madison's soft, cool curves had kept his own body temp perfectly regulated, and he could still hold hands with Jamie on top of her hips or stomach all night.
