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He released her instantly. With a hard, even look, she finished what she started.
Raising the hem of the shirt, she worked it up as she stepped around him. He wore a pair of loose jeans that rode low on his hips, again a different choice for him at The Zone, but it was obvious now why he was wearing them.
The brand was infected, the scab torn off, the red edges raw. The center mark, the fleur-de-lis, seeped fluid.
"Please forgive me, Mistress. "
Marguerite studied it for a moment and the bowed head of the man who stood still under her touch. She sensed the attention of those immediately around them, a small oasis of tense silence amid a world of noise, flashing light and high energy pulsing in the air.
"Who did this to you, Brendan?"
"Wh-What?"
"You keep trying to dodge my questions or lie to me and you will displease me greatly. " The edge to her voice was ice and she didn't hesitate to cut with it.
"Yes, Mistress. You shouldn't concern yourself. I was careless, didn't follow your instructions as I should have. "
"On your knees, now. "
When he dropped with a painful grunt, she seized a handful of his hair, jerking his head back. Not harming him but putting his mind as well as his body off balance as he tried to hold his weight upright and not fall into her legs.
"You would have followed my instructions to the letter. So once more, Brendan.
Who did this to you?" She enunciated each word precisely, clipping it off with sharp teeth. "You're going to say it, because maybe if you say it, you'll realize someone who loves you wouldn't have done this. "
During her two-hour sessions she kept her subs safe, gave them pleasure. She'd never thought of them as hers outside those sessions. For the first time in her life, she felt possessiveness sweep over her. She recalled the rage she'd seen in Tyler's eyes the night he pulled the mugger off her. More than just a good man's anger at another man's violence against a woman. The fury of an alpha toward someone who had taken liberties with something that was his to protect.
"Tim, Mistress. " His voice was low, broken. "It wasn't. . . I asked him to help me clean it in the tub. He didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. "
"Look at me. "
She never asked her subs to look at her, but taking a page out of Tyler's book she made Brendan do it now, tightening her grip on his hair, making him see the anger of a Mistress. The reflection of the truth she was forcing from him.
"Tell me what happened. You can't accidentally pull off a brand scab like this. And if you lie to me once more, I will never look at you again. " Pain lanced through his face. It was remarkable how just seeing it made the same feeling go through her vitals. "Brendan. "
"He. . . We sometimes play at home, Mistress. Soft bondage, to practice for our times here. We both enjoy being a slave, so we take turns with one another. I knew he thought I didn't deserve the honor you'd given me but I didn't think. . . He handcuffed me, bent me over the tub. I thought he was going to do. . . something else. . . and he did. . . but. . . " The words tumbled out and then stopped. Though Brendan did not look away from her, his eyes were nearly watering with the effort to face her expression.
"He ripped off the scab while fucking your ass," she said coldly. "While you were bound and couldn't defend yourself. "
"He said I should enjoy it, because I could pretend it was you, like when you branded me while inside of me. Only. . . " He shook his head. "He doesn't mean it, Mistress. He's just troubled. Tim gets so confused about who he is, what he wants. He cried, said he was sorry later. "
"Well, that makes it all better, then. " If she could have snarled, she would have. She eased her grip on his hair but left her hand on him, keeping him still. "Have you had someone look at that?"
"I tried to clean it myself but perhaps I haven't done a very good job. " The misery on his face told her he'd been too emotionally wound up to give it any attention at all. She put her touch under his elbow, pressured him to his feet.
"Go to the first aid area right now and have Jeremy treat that. He'll tell you how you need to care for it. " Even with the situation roiling her, she could not stay immune to the anguish in his eyes. She cupped his jaw. "If you care for it as he says, it should heal just fine. It will keep its shape. If he says you need to go to a minor emergency center, you go. Either way, you'll go home and get some rest. You don't need to be here.
You're in no shape to serve a Mistress tonight. " Not emotionally or physically. She didn't add that, not wanting to twist the knife he had hilt-deep in himself already.
"I've let you down, Mistress. "
"Yes, you have. But I'll make you a deal. Next time that son of a bitch tries to hurt you, you knock him on his ass, hurt him right back and I will consider forgiving you. " When Brendan looked at her, for just a moment there was something different there, something familiar, something that made her want to bring him into her arms, hold him to her heart, keep him safe forever. She viciously suppressed it. She couldn't keep track of all the ways she was fucked up tonight. Knowing she should follow her own advice and go home, Marguerite stepped back, forced her normal reserve to return to her expression. "Follow my commands, Brendan. Go to Jeremy. " He nodded, moved past her. Even in pain he observed etiquette, making sure his back was not turned to her until he was a proper number of paces away.
Marguerite stood there several moments thinking while the life of The Zone moved on around her. She was not approached. No Dom here tonight was a person who knew her well and subs did not approach a Mistress, particularly one with her presence, though she felt many staying just within summoning distance, hoping. Lifting her gaze, she saw Tim returning with a couple of longnecks. When he saw her, he immediately lowered his long lashes. Showing deference, respect.
She'd just found the perfect sub for her mood.
* * * * *
