Hazel St. James - Fighting For You (Redemption#1)[ Read online

  “I’m open-minded enough that I wanted to give this type of kink a try. But, like I said, I’m not certain of my future here, and I can’t do the two or three month training period. I told all this to Dominic. I think you need to work on your trust issues.”

  Chris visibly snapped and his composure broke in two. He grabbed Tristan by his T-shirt and lifted him off the ground carrying him backwards. His back met the railing on the stairwell with a thud and Chris’ face contorted in rage. Tristan held onto Chris’ arms as he held him off the ground and resisted every urge that he had to lift his knee up into the other man’s balls. Maybe by getting everything out there, Tristan would know what his beef was with him, and he could smooth things over well enough to get on with this.

  “It is because I trust that man explicitly that I’m here at all, you fucknut. Being in control of another human being is not like playing a game, and I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

  Dominic was pulling the two men apart as he cursed, “Knock it off, you two. That’s enough!” His last words came out in a rush when he gave Chris’ arms a final tug and the two men separated.

  “Tristan, his trust in me isn’t in question here. Chris is right to be upset with me for how this entire situation is being handled. I will take full responsibility from here on out, Chris. I’m sorry I brought you into this.”

  Chris sagged forward, his shoulders rising and falling a few times, and then he pulled his head back up. There was no mistaking the pained look in his eyes, for Tristan had seen it far too many times before. Not recently, but the look was reminiscent of someone from his past.

  “I know what it is like to hurt someone so badly that they never fully recover from it, Tristan. I trust Dominic with my own life, but I can’t seem to get over your cockiness towards this entire situation. There are a lot of guys out there that try to be posers in our world, just so that they can intentionally maim and injure people for kicks.”

  Tristan could sense that he was losing this battle of wills, and needed to convince Chris that he wasn’t here to hurt anyone. He almost thought for a second about letting go of the whole scenario, but then he was back to square one, back in the same ole’ rut.

  Taking a deep breath, Tristan blew it back out and measured his words carefully. “I fully understand where you are coming from, Chris. You take your position here very seriously, and for that I’m grateful.”

  “I’ve always known that there is more out there for me, but was too scared to look for it. I was always the kid that wasn’t smart enough, good enough, or even strong enough to be taken seriously. I’ve lived in the shadows for so long, and I’m ready to walk out into the light. You don’t know me, and you don’t like me. I get it. But, damn it, I’m asking you…begging you…please, help me. I don’t have anyone that is willing to stand up for me; to vouch for me that I’m just looking for something more than what I have right now.”

  The speech was given with every bit of emotion that Tristan could pull from inside himself and was full of half-truths, or Tristan’s version of the truth. First of all, he was never scared of anything; secondly, he was street smart, but not book smart and that was a damn-sight more than most people were. The rest was somewhat true, but begging for help was something that Tristan never did, unless it was absolutely necessary. And right now, it was beyond necessary if he didn’t want to get booted out on his ass.

  The next words Tristan said with a stronger voice, “I would never intentionally hurt a woman, or anyone at all for that matter. This is about exploring my options, Chris. Please. Help me with this.” He stuck his hand out in a fist, waiting expectantly for a gesture that Chris was on the same page with him.

  Chris gave him a return knuckle bump, with a tight smile on his face. “Deal, but you have to drop the attitude before I beat you with my fists.”

  Tristan gave him a cool smile and said, “Deal. Would someone mind showing me more about the whip? I saw the way the tablecloth split and know that it is very dangerous. I think this is something I could handle really well, though.”

  Chris twisted his head from side to side and gave Tristan a thoughtful look. Dominic was first to respond, however, and his words floored everyone in the room.

  “I do think he is capable of this Chris, and so I will work with him for the rest of the afternoon. I think you have a scene to set up for tonight, is that right?”

  “Yeah, I do. Tristan, I think Dominic is right. You are capable of doing a whip scene, and if you both want to do this, then I won’t stop you. It would still be beneficial to wait at least a week or two before doing something that intense. We could work on something more middle of the road, like wax play, or maybe the TENS pad…”

  Tristan stopped Chris with a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I appreciate your concern, but can we see how the afternoon goes before we rule it out?”

  Chris stared off into space for a moment, obviously deep in thought. Tristan was just about to pull out something else to work with, when Chris surprised him by nodding in agreement. “All right, Tristan. You get through this scene with Valerie tonight and I will gladly work with you next week on some other things. Maybe I can find someone to do a demonstration scene for the club that coincides with some more things that you may find…appealing.”

  “Sounds good, Chris. Thank you. Dominic…ready?”

  Dominic was standing by them both, completely lost in his own train of thought. Tristan must have startled him when he said his name, for he noticeably jumped at the word.

  “Err, yes. Tristan, let me get some targets from the office for you to practice on. I’ll meet you over at the whip play station, over there,” Dominic pointed over Tristan’s shoulder to the south side of the building. “Chris, thanks for your help. I can handle it from here.”

  For the next two hours, Dominic worked with Tristan on first being able to track the motion of the whip as it hit a piece of cloth hanging from a clothesline. Then they moved on to matching the placement of the strikes from the whip to the appropriate area on a boxing punching bag. Dominic dipped the end of the whip in chalk so that Tristan could see where he was landing the strikes. Since the whip scene Tristan was practicing for was not intended to cut the skin, he mainly needed to master the placement of the strikes and then gauge the distance so that he didn’t wrap the whip around his submissive, rather than just flicker at her skin.

  When Dominic finally said “Enough,” Tristan’s arms were burning from the strenuous arm movements it required to move the eight-foot whip in the perfect strike pattern. Sweat was pouring down his forehead, and he was panting.

  “Very good, Tristan. Let’s take a break for a while. I would really like for you to feel the whip on your own skin a few times before I release you to run a scene on your own. Valerie is a very well trained submissive and won’t give you any problems, but she is also a masochist and loves the bite of the whip. You need to feel what the different types of strikes feel like, so you can give her what she needs. Will you allow me to restrain you and show you what the different variations feel like?”

  The word restrained was conjuring up all sorts of images in Tristan’s mind and none of them were pleasant, in any way. “Fuck no, man,” Tristan practically laughed at the man. There was no way that he was going to willingly be strapped down and beat, by a man no less. But, by the way Dominic immediately raised his eyebrows and was staring at Tristan like he had grown horns, he knew that he’d just fucked up. Dominic was just opening his mouth to argue when Tristan quickly spoke over him, “I mean, no restraints. I think I can handle myself enough to be able to stand still. I don’t need a break; let’s get to it. We only have an hour left before the club opens, and I need to shower before we start. Don’t want my little pet to think I’m a stinky fucker.”

  Tristan slapped Dominic on the arm as he walked by him to the far end of the whip station. It was easy enough to know where to stand, since there was a Saint Andrew’s cross at the end that was equipped with upper and lower res
traints. They had hung the cloth and punching bag from a chain in front of the cross when they were practicing earlier, and Tristan removed all the pieces and set them off to the side.

  He removed his cotton T-shirt and tossed it to the side, exposing his colorful body art on the front of his chest. He had a few tattoos on his chest from his teenage years and a half sleeve on his upper bicep that was still a work in progress. He turned around so that his back was to Dominic and held his arms out to the sides. He lowered his head and stared at his boots and steeled himself for the first strike.

  “I will do different variations of the more basic lashes. I won’t get into anything that will leave marks…at least that last for more than a day,” Dominic jested. “You will feel the bite at varying intensities. Ready?”

  “Yup. Fire away.”

  The only way that Tristan knew Dominic had swung the whip was the whoosh he just barely heard. There were no other sounds or movement, and there was a small spot on his back that tingled. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have realized the first one had landed.

  The next two strikes were stronger and left a sting in their place. Tristan was starting to sense the pattern of the blows and was ready when the third and fourth one came. What he wasn’t ready for was the intense pain that stayed with him long after the whip had left his back. It started as a tingle and slowly spread across his skin like tiny prickles.

  His muscles tensed when he heard the crack of the whip behind him, but the blow had already landed by the time he heard it. Tristan was paralyzed as the pain took a direct route along his nerve endings and flooded his entire body. He couldn’t help the scream that escaped through his clenched teeth, and he clenched his eyelids together tightly.

  When Tristan thought the pain was back to a manageable level, another round came like flicks of lightning, and he fell forward on his knees. There was no pain this time, even though Tristan felt as if his skin was on fire. Waves of pleasure rolled across his nerve endings and felt like they were on a direct path with his already throbbing cock.

  Tristan was beyond surprised at how his body was reacting to the pain, but he’d just listened to Chris drone on and on for hours about the fine line between pain and pleasure. He knew that if Dominic were to keep this up, he wouldn’t be able to control himself anymore. It should have embarrassed him to be this turned on by being whipped by another man, but something in his brain flicked on like a light switch.

  Tristan had already felt the power in the whip when he used it himself and was more than certain now of the possibilities after feeling what it would do to someone’s willing body. He wished he didn’t have to learn so hands on with another guy, but if this is what he had to do to get to that sweet honey pot at the end of the day, then so be it. Because right now, his brain was flooded with images of a petite tattooed brunette, writhing naked in this very spot as he controlled her like a puppet on marionette strings. To hold control over someone like that, with them being absolutely helpless and needing Tristan to bring them the ultimate release, was a huge shot of adrenaline to his body. It was a thing of beauty to see in his mind and having that possibility so close to him, was damn near perfect.

  Dominic approached, but to his credit, he didn’t touch Tristan as he panted and his chest heaved on his knees at the end of the whip station. “How do you feel?”

  Tristan had to clear his throat a few times to find his voice, “Fucking amazing. I’m ready.”

  Chapter Three

  Tristan was practically bouncing back and forth on the heels of his boots, ready to get started with the evening. He was leaning his back against the railing to the stairs and had a clear view to the alcove where the submissives would be waiting. He had on a pair of black dress pants with a brand new pair of black boots. He went bare chested and had switched out the studs in his nipple piercings for his blue titanium half hoop rings.

  Valerie was a pretty, little, inked-up pixie that Tristan had briefly met for coffee early that morning. She was a sweet little bundle of energy, and the way that she watched him with a passionate look in her eyes, made him feel damn near ten feet tall.

  Tristan was more than aware that he was attractive to the opposite sex and even members of his own sex. He wasn’t overly tall, but was blessed with great genetics and was always fit and toned, no matter how shitty his diet was. Most of his youth he was the kid that no one paid much attention to. That worked well for him, since he preferred to stay incognito and blend into the crowd. In high school, the only physical activity that he participated in was a few nights a week at the skate park and a daily workout at the gym. But most of the time, he stayed to himself and tried not to attract attention.

  During most of his high school years, Tristan was floating amongst the other kids, not able to find his place in life. Nothing seemed real anymore, and everything was dull and lifeless. There really wasn’t any point in continuing with school, since his I don’t give a fuck attitude left him with straight Fs and a terrible attendance record. He wasn’t going to graduate anyway, so he dropped out at the end of his junior year. No one gave two pisses in the wind what happened to him, and it was months before his uncle even noticed that he was no longer in school.

  Tristan turned eighteen the summer before his senior year, so he wasn’t breaking any truancy laws. It was well into the snowy Colorado winter before Tristan found himself evicted from his tiny apartment that, until just recently, his uncle had been paying the rent on.

  At first, Tristan lived off the generosity of his friends, until their numbers started dwindling. Then he moved in with his uncle for a brief few weeks. Then, there was a surprise immediate opening at the assembly line plant that his uncle was owner of. Most of the guys that worked at the shop were lifers, but this man mysteriously needed to leave town quickly, and Tristan was given the job without even having to go through the interview process.

  He wasn’t fucking stupid; Tristan knew that his Uncle Morgan had “created” a job for him amongst the huge unemployment boom all over the United States, just so that he would be able to support himself. It wasn’t a secret that his uncle thought that Tristan was a nuisance and most of the time treated him like he was just an annoying fly that needed to be swatted.

  Living paycheck to paycheck was a fucked up way to live, Tristan decided immediately, so he accepted his uncle’s offer to get involved with some of the more colorful practices Morgan participated in. All Tristan usually had to do was pick up a package, or drive to the airport and hand off some parcel. Everything had to be done without question, and he needed to pretend like he was invisible.

  Tristan was mainly used as a driver for different projects that he honestly had very little knowledge of the real reason behind. He didn’t care either; as long as his uncle put extra cash in his hand at the end of the week, in addition to his regular paycheck, he could care less what he was doing. As long as it didn’t involve hurting or killing anybody, of course. There were lines that he wouldn’t cross, even for money.

  After what seemed like days, Tristan finally caught site of his lucky prize, kneeling gracefully in the alcove next to the back door. Valerie was a shorthaired brunette, with a slight frame who looked like she barely weighed a hundred pounds dripping wet. When they met that morning, she had quietly asked what “Sir” preferred she wear for the evening. The question completely caught Tristan off guard, but he had no frame of reference at that point for what she SHOULD wear or what she was ALLOWED to wear. He casually answered, “I’m fine with whatever you normally wear, honey. Surprise me.”

  God damn it, was he ever surprised. The little minx was wearing next to nothing…just a simple red bra and matching panties. She was waiting for him on her knees, so that was about as much as Tristan could make out this far across the room.

  Not wanting to make her wait any longer, Tristan headed her way and was surprised when Valerie didn’t make any move to greet him. He was standing directly in front of her and knew that she was aware he was there. The only noticeable m
ovement he could see was she straightened her back a bit, and her chest was rising and falling faster than before.

  “Good evening, Valerie. I do like the simplicity you went for with your outfit. Very nice.”

  Tristan lowered himself so that he was crouched down in front of her and tipped her chin up with his fingers. He was listening when Chris and Dominic lectured him all afternoon and knew that Valerie was very obedient, but he didn’t realize to what extent that meant. Apparently, it meant that she wouldn’t say anything or do anything unless instructed to.

  “Let’s go sit together for a few minutes and talk before we get started. Okay?”

  Valerie’s pale blue eyes sparkled in the overhead lights of the club, and she only nodded once before she rocked back on her heels and gracefully rose off the floor. Tristan’s breath caught in his throat when he caught sight of the rest of her near-naked body. She was a tiny thing, with a darker skin coloring, and curves in all the right places. Most of her lower half was covered in an assortment of tattoos, all the way down to a few scattered butterflies on the tops of her feet. Her left arm shoulder had the beginnings of a sleeve tattoo and looked like it was in mid-process, with just the outline done on the lower half.

  The pair made it over to the whip station, but instead of entering the long, closed off space, Tristan led her to a set of chairs nearby. He sat down and had to keep from rolling his eyes when Valerie knelt at his feet. “I would rather that you sit in the chair next to me, and look at me with your pretty blue eyes, honey.”