dakota_trace_his_christmas_gift_myrnas (5 page)

The soothing murmur of Olivia’s voice broke through
her inner turmoil.

 “Relax, it’s just me, your
holčička.
Let
me help – I
need
to do this. I can’t stand to see you so uncertain of
yourself,
malý matka.”

Briefly Myrna wondered if the younger woman was only
offering her assistance because she saw Myrna as a pitiful, broken-down
submissive who’d outlived her use. But as quickly as the thought came, she
discarded it. The Olivia she knew would never pity her. She would kick Myrna’s
butt up between her shoulder blades before one ounce of pity would be given.

A totally unexpected giggle forced its way past
Myrna’s throat at the idea. Cocking a hip next to her to rest her weight
against the railing, a rare smile graced Olivia’s full lips.

“It’s good to hear you laugh. Now I want you to hold
onto that feeling and describe what you see down there.” Olivia tossed the long
dark braid which had been draped across one small breast over her slender
shoulder.

Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Myrna met
Olivia’s eyes. “Why?”

A dark brow rose. “Why what? Even a submissive as
rusty as you are, Myrna, realizes questioning a direct order is a surefire way
of getting her backside warmed. Just because I look at you as a mother, doesn’t
mean I’ll hesitate to use this,” she touched the small braided whip resting on
her hip. “In fact, I’m more prone to use it on you than a random stranger. I’m
only going to be here for a short time before I head back home to Jude and I’d
love to see the return of my
malý matka –
not the woman in denial I’ve
heard you’ve become.”

Relief rushed over Myrna. Olivia wasn’t imposing her
will on her simply because she had an ulterior motive like Amery, or even a
selfish one like that of her son. She had to be fair to Caelan though. He
wasn’t deliberately being selfish – she’d known for years he was active in the
lifestyle, but he was always discreet when he visited. However, a mother did
heard things.
He shouldn’t have to hide his relationship with Nisey because
he’s afraid of hurting one old woman’s feelings.

Determination had her back straightening. She could
do this! She could take this first step. After hearing Caelan’s love for his
submissive the last time they’d spoken on the phone, she could do no other. All
she had to do was focus on the people below and describe to Olivia what she
saw. It didn’t have to affect her. She wouldn’t let it. She finally nodded
before reaching to touch the hand Olivia had rested on the banister. Her hand
paused midway. It was one thing to touch Olivia with the purpose of a mother
greeting a child of her heart, but quite another for a submissive to touch a
Dominant. In fact, touching a Dom or Domme without permission was forbidden.

“Breathe, Myrna.” The soft command in Olivia’s voice
had Myrna realizing she’d been holding her breath while fighting with her need
for assurance in the form of physical contact with Olivia. She drew in a shaky
breath before turning her eyes back to the scene before her.

Her words were soft and halting before Olivia’s hand
covered hers.

“There…are…is…” Her eyes darted around the play area,
unsure where to start.

“There is what?” Keeping her voice low, Olivia moved
closer to Myrna, not only to comfort her but to block the interested gaze of a
nearby Dom. When the unfamiliar Dom moved closer to inspect them, Myrna froze,
her body attuned the movement of the man. Fear pushed against her slipping
control.

“I don’t know if…” As she struggled with her words
and the unwanted attention of the Dom, she could feel her earlier determination
start to slip away.

“Ignore him. Amery is mere feet away at the bar.
He’ll stop him from getting too close.”

Myrna shook her head. “No he won’t.”

A concerned look followed by a puzzled one assured
Myrna that Amery hadn’t told Olivia about his ultimatum.

“He’d never let another hurt you.” The absolution in
Olivia’s voice had Myrna’s eyes stinging with unshed tears. She’d once thought
the same thing.

“Perhaps once, but you weren’t here earlier. Either I
allow him to make me his slave or I do this by myself. I can’t give him what he
wants.” A bitter hiss left her. “So alone it is.”

“Then pull yourself up by the bootstraps,
slave!
”
The harsh tone and removal of Olivia’s hand had her swinging to look at the
Domme.

“Eyes ahead!” she barked.

Immediately Myrna’s eyes darted back towards the play
area. The abrupt change from her loving pseudo-daughter to Domme had done the
one thing Olivia’s caring hadn’t. It slipped over the wall of hurt and anger
she’d built up with Grant’s betrayal. She responded without a thought or
conscious decision.

“Now, you
will
describe what you see, or I’ll
leave you here to deal by yourself.” When Myrna’s silence continued, Olivia
snapped at her. “I’m waiting.”

“Ah, I see…a Master flogging a blonde slave…she’s
strapped to a…” Olivia found the details spilling past her lips as she let go
of her iron will and did Olivia’s bidding.

For the next several minutes, Myrna detailed each
person, Master or slave, each act visited upon them – flogging, whipping,
fellatio and bondage. The people were indulging their inner most sexual beings
without a care or thought about whether it was right or wrong.

When she finally described the last couple, a petite
white Domme and her much larger black slave, she ran out of steam and fell
silent. She waited but knew not for what. Then Olivia spoke and it became clear
to her.

“Very good, slave Myrna.” The approval in Olivia’s
voice and brush of her fingers over Myrna’s shoulder gave her a feeling she
hadn’t experienced in a long time. A small satisfaction, knowing she’d pleased
someone - even if it had only been her daughter - with her submission filled
her. The now foreign feeling scared her. Myrna darted away from Olivia and out
of the main room. She had to leave. She didn’t want to feel this way – she
couldn’t feel this way – not now.

* * * *

A low growl escaped Amery when a large calloused hand
settled once more on his shoulder. He glared at the man who’d stopped him from
following the fleeing Myrna. He’d had to sit and watch while Myrna and Olivia
had stood at the railing. From the way Myrna’s body had gone from stiff to soft
and then back to stiff, he could tell she’d been happy to see the younger woman,
but probably hadn’t been happy about what the woman had said.

Knowing Olivia as he did, he was sure Olivia had been
brutally honest with Myrna. Despite all Olivia’s faults, she abhorred lies.
What
the hell had she told Olivia?

“Stop, you’ll only make matters worse, Amery.”
Simon’s grip didn’t lessen.

“She’s upset and running. She’s in no shape to drive,
let alone make it back to her house. She could get an accident, just like…”

Simon nodded his understanding. “…Emma. But remember
that’s the reason we’ve changed the rules.”

The death of Emma O’Rielly, Amery’s part-time sub
while he’d waited on Myrna, had been tragic to all concerned. When she hadn’t
been able to force a permanent collar out of Amery, she’d ran from the club
crying and just a bit tipsy from several glasses of Guinness she’d consumed.
She’d died in an auto accident about a half hour later. That’s when the
founding members of the Sanctuary had changed the security measures to include
full-time staff to man the front door. Not only did they keep out unwanted
guests, but they kept a repeat of what happened to Emma from happening again.

 “She has to make it past Sanders.” Simon reminded
Amery, referring to the bouncer who’d been manning the door all night. “And we
both know he won’t let an upset submissive leave the premises without assuring
of their safety.”

As if the man realized Simon was talking about him,
the slender phone attached to the dark leather belt encircling Simon’s slender
waist chirped.  Lifting it to his ear, Simon answered it.

“Hello?” There was a long pause which grated on
Amery’s nerves before Simon spoke again. “That’ll be fine.” Another pause
before Simon replied once more. “No, there’s no need for that. I’m standing
next to him. I’ll let him know. Thank you, Sanders.”  He closed the phone
before returning it to its holster.

“Well?” Amery barely recognized his own voice as he
waited. “Tell me what?”

Simon gave him a brief smile. “That was our man
Sanders. He stopped Myrna at the front door and after speaking to her briefly,
he ascertained that while she was a bit agitated she isn’t a danger to herself
or others. He offered to get one of us and when she refused outright, he
convinced her to let him pay for a cab to take her home. So relax, she’ll be
fine.”

Relief washed over Amery. Myrna wasn’t going to get
herself killed because she ran off into the night like Emma had. Even as
memories of his last submissive tugged at him, he forced them away when he
heard the furious steps approaching them.
Had Myrna returned?
Even if
she’d returned to give him hell, hope sprang eternal and there was nothing he
could do about it.

“Well, maybe relaxing is the last thing you should
do. That’s one pissed off Domme headed our way.”

Amery swore internally even as he turned to face the
seething Olivia. Her eyes were snapping with fury and her chest was falling and
rising with her angry breathing.

“You and I need to talk,
Master
Alastar! What
the hell where you thinking by telling her she had to either choose to be your
slave, or you’d withhold your help?” The slender fists were propped on her hips
and there was no doubt in his mind Olivia was way, way beyond pissed.

“Fuck,” was the only thing Amery said before ordering
a shot of scotch.

Chapter Four

Slamming into her house, Myrna tossed her keys onto
the small stand where she kept her mail caddy. The clink of metal against metal
did little to sooth her already frayed nerves. Her little trip to the
Sanctuary’s Lair had done nothing to help her. While seeing the other members
engaging in various games of domination and submission hadn’t bothered her as
she’d expected, her innocent response to pleasing Olivia had. Was she so
desperate to recapture the feeling of submission that she’d taken her pleasure
even from a woman she considered a daughter?

As she mused over the question, she methodically
emptied the pockets of her coat. Chapstick, a small bag of sugar-free
butterscotch candy, and a scrap of paper with a scribbled number on it joined
her keys. Spotting it, she picked it up. Soothing it out, she remembered her
promise to the doorman/bouncer.

Studying it for a moment, Myrna kicked off her shoes
before heading to her kitchen. She’d call him while she was waiting for the
coffee to brew. She needed something to steady her nerves. Ignoring the
flashing light on the phone next to the entryway, she entered her favorite
room. Large and airy, decorated in country blues with its butcher block
countertops and oak cabinets, it was her dream kitchen. When she’d bought the
house, she’d imagined preparing family Christmas feasts here for her extended
family – Caelan, Olivia and their future families, and of course, Amery. She
sobered. While she’d imagined both her son and daughter having families, she’d
never once considered Amery marrying and having a family of his own. Surprisingly
the very idea of it was extremely disturbing.

Flipping on the lights, she clicked on the coffee
maker before gathering the half empty container of half-cream out of her
fridge. A brief smile touched her lips. When she’d spoken with him on the phone
earlier in the evening, Caelan had been interrupted by Nisey who’d asked if
he’d wanted half and half in his coffee. She’d been puzzled at first until he’d
explained it was the same thing as half-cream.
Amazing how the Americans can
have a different name for something as simple as half-cream.

Moving to her pantry, a small but dusty bottle of
Bailey’s Irish Cream was her next victim. Setting her booty down on the
immaculate surface of her counter, she headed for the phone. Now that her drink
was brewing, she’d better get this over with, she decided.

Without a thought, she pressed the flashing red
button to listen to her messages first. The first was from her insurance man
asking her to call him about December’s payment. Absently she made a mental
note to call his office tomorrow to clear up the matter before hitting the
delete button. She’d mailed his payment over a week ago, but knowing his
absent-minded secretary who just happened to also be his mother, it must’ve
gotten misplaced again. The woman was notorious for misplacing things but her
son refused to fire her. She was getting up in age, and the job gave the woman
not only needed support, but also got her out the house.

A small smile tugged at her mouth. She idly wondered
if Caelan would do the same for her when she got that old…but then decided no.
She wouldn’t mind visiting her son in America but she loved her little home
here in Ireland. Even as disgusted as she was with Amery at the moment, she
thanked the Lord regularly he’d been there for her after Grant had left her. It
was his doing that she even had this home. His generosity over the years was
almost enough to forgive his earlier ultimatum – almost but not quite. Despite
it all though, she’d move in with Amery first before even considering moving to
America. A giggle escaped her at the idea of both her and Amery in their late
seventies, chasing each other around Amery’s huge house. Him with a tattered
old flogger and her with his favorite tie – the ugly one she’d been trying for
years to get rid of.