“That’s enough.” Anthony’s voice had turned to steel. “Lawrence, please go wait in my study. I’ll be there directly.”
“What?” Lawrence retorted. “I’m in charge of discipline and—“
“I said”—Anthony interrupted, a hard look Mark had never seen before entering his face—“go wait in my study. Now.”
Color rose in Lawrence’s face. For a moment Mark thought he would refuse, but then, with a curt nod, Lawrence turned on his heel and disappeared. Addressing Mark, Anthony said quietly, “Please get Marjorie and Aubrey while I talk to Jaime a moment. Ask Aubrey to bring her doctor’s kit. She’s just finishing up with Ashley’s aftercare.”
Mark didn’t want to leave Jaime but he didn’t protest, instead pushing himself to his feet. “It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured to Jaime, reaching down to stroke her cheek. “I promise.”
The rest of the household was still in the main dungeon. Ashley was seated in Mason’s lap, a large gauze bandage on her upper back, Mason’s newest mark of ownership no doubt just beneath it. Aubrey stood behind them, in the process of closing up her medical kit. Marjorie was nearby with Brandon and Stefan, the three engaged in conversation.
Mark approached Aubrey first. “Excuse me, Aubrey, but you’re needed in the punishment room. Please bring your medical kit.” He turned toward Marjorie, who had an expression of concern on her face that told him she’d just heard what he said. “Sorry to interrupt, Marjorie, but Anthony asks if you could come too. Jaime needs some help after a punishment that went a little”—he caught himself and stopped. Why sugarcoat it?—“a lot awry.”
He filled them in briefly, the women letting him talk without interruption as the three of them hurried through the house. There wasn’t room for them all in the small space of the punishment room. Anthony stepped out and spoke quietly with Marjorie for a moment, though Mark couldn’t hear what they were saying. Then the women entered the small space, clucking and crooning as they took Jaime under their maternal wings.
Anthony turned to Mark. “Jaime told me what happened. Thank god you had the foresight and sense to stop this when you did.” Mark nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. Anthony continued, “Let’s go talk to Lawrence and sort this out.”
Mark thought the best way to sort this out would be to give Lawrence some of his own medicine. He briefly fantasized about caning the shit out of Lawrence and then stuffing him into a cage. He knew even as the fantasy inserted itself into his brain that it was unworthy of a Dom—unlike Lawrence, Mark would never punish a sub, or anyone else, out of anger.
Anthony’s study was large and comfortable, a distinctly masculine space with dark wood paneling and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Anthony sat in a wingback chair and gestured toward the sofa, where Lawrence was perched ramrod straight on one side, his lips compressed in a thin line, his arms crossed over his chest. Mark settled on the other side.
Anthony sat quietly for a time, his gaze moving from Lawrence to Mark and back again as he composed his thoughts. “You know,” he said slowly, looking now neither at Mark nor Lawrence, but rather staring off into the middle distance. “During training, a lot of focus is placed on getting at a submissive’s emotional core. Submission is about truth, about revealing yourself. If you simply demand obedience without understanding a sub’s true motivations and needs, even if the sub obeys every command to the letter and every aspect of every scene, they’re just going through the motions, and so are you.”
“Yes! That’s it!” Mark blurted before he realized he was going to speak. “That’s it. That’s what makes this place different from the BDSM club scene and the players you find there. Or at least, I’d thought so.” He shot a dark look at Lawrence, who glared back.
“You thought right, Mark,” Anthony replied, favoring him with a nod. “And you, Lawrence, I think this is what you’ve been missing, what’s lacking in you.” Lawrence, who still held his defensive posture on the edge of the sofa, stiffened further but remained quiet. “You have to listen not just to a submissive’s words and physical cues, but to the heart and soul that lie beneath. They are giving you a gift, and it’s your responsibility to cherish rather than abuse it. It’s not just an exchange of power, you see. It’s an exchange of trust. You have to trust them as much as you ask them to trust you.”
“This is all very well,” Lawrence said through clenched teeth, “but I don’t understand what this has to do with what happened tonight. I thought you brought us here to explain to Mark what he did wrong, but instead I’m hearing that you have a problem with what I did, and I have to say, I resent that. I did what I always do in my role as disciplinarian at The Enclave. I punished the trainee for misbehavior. Mr. Rock Star here”—he shot a withering glance at Mark before looking back to Anthony—“decided he knew better than I did what she needed, and took the matter into his own hands. Now Jaime is no doubt completely confused about our expectations, and it’s all his fault.”
“No,” Anthony shouted, the word accompanied by his fist, which he smashed against his knee for emphasis. The outburst was so unexpected in the normally imperturbable man that both Lawrence and Mark startled.
“Excuse me?” Lawrence managed, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“No,” Anthony repeated, though he lowered his voice. “That is not why we’re here, Lawrence. I invited Mark to join us because I want him to understand the serious nature of what has transpired here. He was witness and thus this affects him. Mark is still considering if he’ll join us permanently here at The Enclave, and I want his decision to be a fully informed one.” He glanced at Mark, and the tight coil of tense worry in Mark’s gut unwound for the first time since he’d found Jaime in the cage.
Anthony returned his attention to Lawrence. “It’s true Mark intervened directly in a punishment when he might have come instead to you to suggest a different course of action. Be that as it may, he reacted based on what he saw in the moment, and in my estimation, he reacted appropriately. You left a trainee alone in a cage with her hands bound and a gag stuffed in her mouth, her back torn and bloody. You didn’t tell anyone else what you had done. Whatever Jaime did or didn’t do regarding her duties earlier today when cleaning the dungeon, you failed to listen. You didn’t let her speak—you simply assumed she was lying. You reacted with anger, Lawrence. You behaved in a reckless way that endangered another person, and quite frankly, it’s grounds for immediate expulsion from this community.”
“Anthony!” Lawrence interjected in a shocked tone, the color draining from his face. “You can’t be serious. My life is here. I belong here!”
Anthony held up a hand. “And I want you to stay, Lawrence, but there are conditions. The first of which is you need to agree to counseling.”
“Counseling?” Lawrence furrowed his brow. “Like with a shrink?”
“Yes,” Anthony concurred. “Precisely. I believe you have some emotional and anger issues that are going to prevent you from becoming the Dom I know you want to be. Issues that, if I may be so blunt, are keeping you from finding the love and connection I know you long for.”
Lawrence’s eyes skittered toward Mark and then away, and Mark understood Lawrence had confided in some way about his personal hopes and dreams, and perhaps his failures, to Anthony, just as Mark himself, and probably every man at The Enclave, had done at one time or another. Anthony was that kind of person—at once father-figure, mentor and best friend. You just felt safe baring your heart to him. Mark wondered if Lawrence regretted sharing those confidences—if he believed it now made him vulnerable. Mark realized his fury toward the man had subsided. He no longer wanted to beat him to a pulp. He understood Lawrence was weak and frightened, as bullies generally were when you scratched just beneath the surface of their swagger.
“I know an excellent therapist who works with people in the BDSM community,” Anthony continued. “He has an intimate knowledge and understanding of the kind of issues we sometimes face in this lifestyle. It’s not easy be
Lawrence swallowed hard, his jaw working. Finally he nodded. “Yes. If it means I can stay, yes, I agree.”
“Good.” Anthony said. “I’ll call him first thing in the morning. In addition, I’m going to put you on probation until you demonstrate you’ve attained the understanding and internalized the philosophy of The Enclave to my satisfaction. You’re obviously highly skilled in the mechanics of being a Dom—that was never at issue here. It’s the spiritual aspect that we’ll focus on during your probation.”
“How long?” Lawrence whispered. “How long will I be on probation?”
“That’s up to you, Lawrence,” Anthony said, his voice now gentle. “I’ll let you tell me.” He stood, adding, “I need to talk to Danielle.”
“Just what I was going to say,” Mark concurred.
“Danielle?” Lawrence queried, clearly confused.
“She’s the real culprit here. I’ll bet my bottom dollar on it,” Anthony replied. “I believe Jaime that she’s innocent. She didn’t leave the dungeon in that condition. I’ve thought it over and Danielle is the only one of our staff slaves capable of this sort of behavior. As much as I don’t want to think it’s true, there is no other conclusion I can draw.”
“Danielle?” Lawrence repeated stupidly. A play of emotions moved over his face, and Mark saw he, too, was finally putting two and two together. Understanding dawned with a lift of the eyebrows, and then shame crumpled his face, his mouth falling open as Lawrence finally seemed to grasp the full extent of what he’d done. “Jesus,” he whispered, “why would she do that?”
“I suspect it has to do with our rock star here.” Anthony glanced toward Mark with a mirthless grin. “Danielle’s been dealing with the age-old issues of attraction, loneliness and insecurity that afflict the young and stupid. Or no,” he amended, “they afflict us all, young people just tend to do a much worse job of disguising it. Danielle’s been lonely and scared since Alan abandoned her, and who can blame her? Now I wonder about the wisdom of letting her stay on once he’d left. I felt sorry for her, but I see now I made a mistake.”
“You can’t send her away!” Lawrence burst out.
Anthony raised his eyebrows with obvious surprise. “You’re defending her actions?”
“No, I’m not defending what she did, if in fact we find out that’s the case. Like you said, she’s young and stupid. She’s made some poor decisions, but I see something in her. You did, too, or you wouldn’t have allowed her to stay on when Alan left. You’re giving me another chance. Why not her?”
Anthony was quiet a moment as he regarded Lawrence. “As soon as we’re done here, Marjorie and I are going to have a long talk with Danielle. I will take your suggestion into serious consideration, Lawrence. You’re right. She’s young and stupid, but she’s been dealing with issues by herself that perhaps we should have been more sensitive to. I do believe in second chances.” He stood, and Mark and Lawrence stood as well.
“If we decide it makes sense for her to stay,” Anthony added, “she’ll be on probation, same as you.”
“Understood,” Lawrence said, his anger and arrogance drained away. “Thank you, Anthony.” He turned to Mark. “And thank you.”
Mark, stunned, could only nod.
~*~
Jaime sipped the hot, fragrant tea and let the soothing sound of rushing water lull her senses. She was exhausted—the weariness permeating not only her body but her psyche. Mistress Marjorie sat on a nearby chair, Aubrey having excused herself once she finished ministering to Jaime’s wounds. Her back barely hurt now, the welts cleaned, Mistress Aubrey’s miracle salve smoothed over the broken skin. She’d been permitted to speak freely, to explain what had happened, and she had been listened to and, most importantly, believed.
Tentatively, she leaned back against the soft towel Marjorie had thoughtfully placed along the back of the deep, overstuffed sofa in the meditation room. It was her favorite room in the house, especially the slate and copper waterfall that covered an entire wall, with its soothing sheet of water cascading down in an infinite cycle.
When she’d been curled into herself in the small cage, left alone with her thoughts and her pain, she’d vowed she would not spend another night at The Enclave. When Master Lawrence let her out, and surely he had to eventually, she would pack her meager belongings and call a cab. Her time so far at The Enclave had shown her she required a life of sensual submission, but not at a place where she couldn’t feel safe or heard.
Now she no longer knew what she thought or felt. Too much had happened, too fast. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Mistress Marjorie had counseled. “Just rest and recover. We still need to understand this whole situation. Master Anthony should be along directly.”
As if summoned by her words, there was a light knock on the door. At Mistress Marjorie’s, “Come in,” it opened, revealing Master Anthony in the doorway. As he stepped inside, Jaime saw Danielle just behind him, a defiant, petulant expression on her face.
Master Anthony pointed to a floor cushion. “You will kneel there, slave Danielle. I want you to tell Mistress Marjorie and Jaime what you just told me.” Jaime stiffened at the sight of her. She bit her lower lip to keep from saying something she might later regret.
Danielle moved toward the cushion and knelt as directed, while Master Anthony took a seat on the sofa near Jaime. He placed his hand lightly on Jaime’s shoulder as he gazed into her eyes. His look and his touch eased some of the tension Danielle’s presence had triggered, and she managed a small smile.
Master Anthony dropped his hand and turned his attention back to Danielle, who was staring at the ground. “Go on, Danielle. Tell us what you told me a moment ago.”
Danielle lifted her head, the defiant look still on her face. “I told Jaime she was going to get in trouble if she did such a crummy job, but she said no one would notice. It’s not the first time she’s cut corners during chores. I haven’t said anything because I don’t like to tattle on others. It’s not my fault she got punished. I don’t know why everyone thinks this is somehow my fault.” She lifted her chin, clearly waiting to be challenged.
Master Anthony stared at her until she lowered her eyes once more. Turning to Jaime, he said, “Stand up, Jaime, and turn around. Show Danielle your back.”
Reluctantly, Jaime stood and walked to where Danielle was kneeling. She turned until her ravaged back was to Danielle. Danielle drew in a sudden, audible gasp. Master Anthony nodded toward Jaime. “You may sit down.”
He returned his focus to the kneeling woman. “I wanted you to see that, Danielle. It’s quite possible some of those wounds will scar. It’s possible Jaime won’t finish her training, as traumatizing as this experience has been for her. In addition, we are considering asking Master Lawrence to leave the community, as his methods don’t coincide with how we do things at The Enclave.”
Danielle brought her hands to her mouth, a look of fear mingled with horror on her face. “I didn’t— I wasn’t…” She trailed off, a beseeching look on her pretty face as she moved her gaze toward Mistress Marjorie.
Mistress Marjorie leaned forward. “We understand you’re scared right now, Danielle. We need to hear from you directly, what part you actually played in this. This kind of thing goes beyond girlish jealousies and competition. People’s lives have been negatively affected. There will be consequences, of course there will be, but they will be much worse if you can’t find a way to tell the truth. We value what we have built here at The Enclave too much to let this go unaddressed. I know it’s been hard since Alan left you, but that’s no excuse for your behavior.”
A sob welled up in Danielle’s throat, a yelping keen, and she dropp
“Master Mark?” Mistress Marjorie queried, echoing Jaime’s unvoiced question. Danielle, still crying, nodded, her unexpected words whirling in Jaime’s brain. Had Master Mark been mooning over her? Where had she been while this was going on? In spite of Danielle’s damning admission, in spite of the girl’s breakdown and Jaime’s exhaustion, her words sent a thrill through Jaime’s being.
Master Anthony reached for a tissue from the end table by the sofa and stood, moving toward the crying girl. He crouched beside her and handed her the tissue. As Danielle wiped her eyes, he said, “I do appreciate, very much, that you’ve admitted you were the one who set this terrible chain of events in motion. You’ll feel better, too, once you calm down, to know your actions won’t continue to taint an innocent person.”
He stood and returned to the sofa. Once seated, he leaned toward Danielle, his hands on his knees. “Danielle, I don’t think The Enclave is the place for you,” he said earnestly. “I do believe you’re sincere in your desire to submit, but I think your focus on finding a mate since Alan left has made you lose your way on your submissive journey.”
“No, please,” she begged, “don’t make me go! I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do anything. I’ll stay in the shed out back, just please, please, don’t send me away. I have no place to go.” Her voice turned suddenly bitter. “Alan, that bastard, cleared out our account when he went back to his ex-wife. He left me penniless.”
Master Anthony shook his head while Jaime processed this tidbit of information. “Staff slaves are here because of their love and commitment for the lifestyle, not because they need a roof over their head or a particular Master to own them. Do you see that, Danielle? Yes, there are couples here, but that isn’t the purpose of this community, merely a happy byproduct. Alan came highly recommended by someone I know in the scene, but I didn’t know him personally when I allowed the two of you to join. I won’t make that mistake again. Nor will I compound it by keeping you here out of pity.”