27. Damien

Despite Tatiana's emotional immaturity, she's far from unintelligent. Her emotional immaturity I contribute to her being young. It had never been an issue when she was my submissive. In fact, if anything it had made her all the more compliant. Now, as I sit at my desk, staring ruefully down at the legal paperwork that goes on for pages about what Tatiana deems suitable to sue me for, I'm filled with regret.

Never have I ever immensely regretted a lay. I shift my hand over the cellphone I managed to buy and hook up, itching to send her a long ranting message about how dumb she's being, or about how what she's doing doesn't just affect me, it affects everyone who works here at the firm, but I hesitate.

I'm not going to get through to her by bullying her. No. The one way I know how to connect with her is the sole reason she's suing me. As her dom. I take a deep breath, steadying my shaking hands, gently dousing the rage that's coursing through my body, making me unsteady. I pick up my phone, click on her contact, and type out one message I know she'll respond to. After all, her blatant disrespect is just an attempt to provoke my dominant side.

The thought of Mila comes circling back into my mind, but with a curt shake of my head, I dispel my thoughts, sealing the lid on my guilt. This is what I have to do to rid myself of Tatiana. Once she realizes she'll have no case against me, and I still refuse to be with her the way she wants, she'll lose interest.

*Go to the club at 8pm. You know what to wear. Don't make me wait.

I send the message before my mind can sift through the text and my anger gets the best of me again. Setting down the phone, I sigh. That's the only message I know she'll have a reaction to. And even if she doubts me, she'll go just to see if I'm going to go through with. That's what hopeful women do.

I already have the room rigged with recording devices. Even before this legal ordeal. Now just to get her confession to appear without it being under duress. Now that was a task.

I'm distracted by a knock on my door. I'm almost thankful for the break from the tiring, angry thoughts in my head, until Kass slips into the office, closing the door behind her, and setting an accusatory look on me.

"What?" I press, furrowing my brows, annoyed. Whipping her red braid off her shoulder, she places her hands on her hips, and huffs angrily.

"What the hell is going on with Mila? She's called in sick two days in a row... and you haven't even mentioned it."

I knew this conversation was inevitable, but a part of me was hoping I could figure out the Tatiana situation before I circled back to Mila. Especially after I found out that Tatiana had approached her. That was some unsettling shit. I don't know how unstable Tatiana is, but if she's willing to go through with a lawsuit then I can guess pretty fucking mental.

"Listen, Kass, I can't deal with this shit right now," I argue, while pinching the bridge of my nose and slouching my seat. "Mila and I had a fight about Tatiana, and I'm just trying to figure out how the fuck to pick up the pieces of the mess Tatiana's made."

Kass tilts her head, letting her arms drop down by her sides. "Look, I understand shit's hitting the fan – frankly, I'm not thrilled about all the shit Tatiana is making this firm deal with, but I care about Mila, and I'd hate for something to happen that damages her relationship with you."

Kass is a lot of things, but she's always stuck by my side. Even when all I've done is fuck up. I can tell she genuinely just wants us both happy, and that's why she's a good friend.

"I know. I'll figure shit out." I rub the back of my neck and sigh. "Thanks for putting up with all this bullshit. You've really kept this place afloat." I'm not one to admit when I've fucked up. I mean, I've always been stubborn, but now, staring at Kass, seeing the exhaustion on her face, and the worry, I feel guilty. "I'll fix shit. I promise."

She nods, and offers me a small smile, before disappearing.

I glance down at my phone, my heart pounds as I see a reply from Tatiana.

*Yes, Sir.

I take a deep breath and glance once more at the time. My plan is a go.

***

Tatiana is just where I expect her to be when I arrive at the club. Kneeling a few feet in front of the stairs to my playroom, her head cast towards the floor, I seethe with anger. Her blond curls are loose, falling over her shoulders and face. Once I thought she was beautiful, worthy of my dominance, and now here I'm disappointed in her.

I slide off my jacket, discarding it on the hook hanging on the wall to the right of the steps. I don't utter a word, the only sounds are my shoes gliding against the cold stone of the floor, and her shaky breathing. She's nervous.

Good.

I move towards the ropes that are suspended from metal hooks in the ceiling and grab the ropes. "Come," I command, raising a brow as she's hesitant. Cursing inwardly, I bark out the order again, making sure to mask my revulsion as she stands, and pads towards me, her eyes still trained on the floor like the good little bitch she is. Only she isn't. She defied me, and she's trying to destroy what I love.

With a deep breath, I calm myself enough to take control of my limbs once again. My eyes glide over her flesh, all fishnet and lace. Her nipples can be seen underneath the lace of her attire, as well as the puffy mound of her pussy.

She makes the mistake of looking up at me when she halts in front of the ropes, and I catch her chin with my hands, firmly holding her face to keep her gaze locked with mine.

"You've disappointed me," I state through gritted teeth, frustration knitting my brows. I graze my thumb nail over her bottom lip enough to leave a red trail of irritation before ripping my hand away. She lets her head fall back down, avoiding my harsh stare as I begin to assemble the harness attached to the ropes. "I'm going to have to punish you, Tatiana."

I spit her name like venom, and finish latching her in, before I command her to kneel once again. At this command she flinches but obeys, kneeling, which causes her arms to strain high above her head. The ropes around her wrists bite at her skin, and she cries out a pleasurable moan. There's no usual response from me. No twitching of my cock as it comes to life. This is strictly business.

An end to a mean. A way for me to be rid of her. All I need is her to confess, and what better way than to break her in the way she loves, the way she fucking craves, than here? I'm sure I'll get just what I want, even if I have to whip the fucking confession out of her.

I kneel before her, lifting her head to look at me once more. My probing eyes search her cautiously wide eyes, noticing her excitement. She leans forward, pressing a kiss to my throat, before I feel her teeth graze my neck and latch onto the collar of my shirt, yanking so the top few buttons pop open, revealing my chest.

I step back and cluck my tongue disapprovingly at her while shaking my head. "I'll give you what you want, only if you give me what I want, Tatiana." The whimper that escapes her lips confirms she's heard me. She's a masochist.

Craves the pleasure she experiences from the pain inflicted upon her, but I'll only give into her desires, if she gives me her fucking confession.

"Do you understand, Tatiana?"

"Yes, Sir," She croaks out automatically, but I don't think she truly understands, and until I have a whip in my hand, teasing and pulling her to the edge and dragging her ass back before she can have her fill, she won't fucking understand.

I go for the thick brown leathered whip hanging on the rack towards the large bed in the room. Twisting, I raise the whip, eyes trained on the exposed flesh of her back. I swing my arm swiftly, bringing the leather against her skin. An angry red lash appears on her back and she moans.

"You've been disobedient," I state harshly. Pulling my arm back, I watch her shake with need. "Admit you've been a bad girl."

"I've been bad, Sir," She cries out as I throw my arm forward and whip her again. She is quaking, and purring. I know she wants more. Craves the angry bite of the whip. I've always been willing to give her just what she needs, so the fact that she's blatantly disrespected me, makes me tighten my grip on the whip as I wield it again, stinging her back repeatedly.

"What have you done, Tatiana?" I command her admittance. The walls are rigged with cameras and audio boosters, but I brought my phone for good measure. I don't want her confession to appear under duress. "Say it or I'm not giving you what you want." All that comes out is a raspy moan. I move to whip her shoulder and drag the whip down to the crack of her ass teasingly.

"Say it!" I demand, I raise my gaze, furious at her defiance and my eyes land on a figure at the bottom of the stairs just as she shouts her reply.

"I lied!"

Mila!

I watch as she twists and ascends the stairs in a hurry, but I can't react. Not when Tatiana's confession is close. She's quivering, close to the edge. Her orgasm is one more lashing away, but I stop.

"Do you want me to make you come, Tatiana?"

"Oh yes," She chokes out, letting her head fall back, as she moans gently. I pull my phone out of my pocket, turn on the recording and move so I'm standing above her kneeling body. I lace my fingers in her hair and yank her head forward, so her mouth is almost kissing the end of my phone.

"Confess, now." I demand. She firms her lips, eyes wide and apprehensive.

"I know you're close Tatiana, give me what I want, and I'll make sure I give you what you want." I urge her. She's quiet for a moment, stewing over what I've said. My impatience grows, and I clutch the phone tightly, fingers turning purple. "Only I can give you this sweet release. All I need from you is the fucking truth!"

"Fine!" She replies, defeated. "Okay." I press play, watching as she admits she lied about the claims in her lawsuit. Her chest bounces as she drags in gulps of air after her confession. Just when I see her tense, awaiting the final blow of the whip that will send her into a frenzy of pleasure, I move and grab my coat, tossing it over my arm and make way to the stairs.

"Sir!" She calls after me. "But what about our deal?"

I slip my phone into my pocket and glare at her while shaking my head.

"You've disappointed me for the last time."

I climb the stairs quickly, ignoring the sobs that tear from her lips as I hurry after Mila. She's probably home by now. I'm afraid I've ruined things permanently. I can only imagine the thoughts going on in her head.

I shove my hand through my hair and rub the back of my neck as I find Gregory in the middle of a conversation towards the front entrance of the club. I move towards him quickly, watching as his eyes widen with confirmation, he notices my presence. He utters a quick goodbye to the man he's speaking with before turning towards me.

"Damien," He greets.

I nod.

"In an hour, can you unhook Tatiana from the ropes down in my playroom?" I know it's a lot to ask, but he's used to these requests. I don't want to see her fucking face again down there. "I don't want her allowed back in the club. If you value my business, you'll respect this request." Considering all the funding I've contributed; I'm not surprised when he nods and agrees to my request.

"I have to go find Mila."

"Wait, she's doing a show." Gregory glances at his watch. "Actually, she's on right now."

I shake my head, ignoring the nervous tick that's making the hairs on the back of my neck stand. "No, she uh, she's angry with me. She saw me with another Sub."

Gregory swallows, before he plays with his tie. "She uh, she requested to be put in a show. She acted as if you'd be okay with it, so I agreed."

My anger hits the fucking roof. I drop my coat, storming off towards the showroom before Gregory can utter another word. She's doing a fucking show. With who? I stomp towards the doors, throwing them open, ignoring the curious stares from those in the audience.

My blood boils when I catch sight of her up on stage. Naked. And tied down to a thick wooden table with her legs spread and arms spread so her breasts are pushed outward. Her pussy is only covered by a red lacy thong, and the fucking imbecile on stage is walking around her body like he's a lion tamer and she's the lion. He speaks loudly to the audience, fiddling with a nipple clamp in his hands.

Panic and anger swell within me, and before I can even fucking think clearly, I'm heading up to the stage, discarding my shirt with one sentence replaying in my mind.

She's mine.