“Did you know?” he asked, crossing to stand in front of her. “Did you know he was drunk when you went up there with him?”
She hugged her arms over her chest. “May I have some clothes? Please?”
“No, you may not have any clothes. Stand there and answer my goddamn question. Did you know he was drunk?” Jason’s voice resounded through his bedroom and she thought to herself, they’ll hear you through the air ducts.
She stood quailing in only her thong panties, feeling doubly exposed to his anger. “No, I didn’t know he was drunk. He didn’t act drunk.”
“Did you know he’d been drinking?” Jason asked with a mien of forbearance. “Did you smell it on his breath? Hear it in his voice?”
She covered her face, then looked up into Jason’s accusing eyes. “I knew he drank at night, after practice. That’s all I knew. I didn’t realize...” She babbled out words, trying to exonerate herself. “I never imagined he’d drink before a performance.”
“But you knew he drank. You knew he had a problem.”
“Everyone drinks here—”
“Wrong!” She flinched at his sharp tone. “Nobody drinks here before a performance. Nobody. Nobody drinks to inebriation, to the point where their judgment is clouded. No one here is a fucking alcoholic.”
“Everyone drinks in Mongolia,” she cried, hugging herself tighter.
“Does that make it okay? Your parents died in a drunk driving accident, Sara. I don’t understand this. I don’t get this attitude of looking the other way.”
“Why are you so angry with me? It was Baat’s fault.”
“But you knew. You knew he had a problem and you kept it from me. From everyone. You’re the only one here who spoke his language, who knew this was going on. It was your responsibility to let someone know he didn’t have his shit together.”
Tears squeezed from her eyes. “Yes, I know. I just didn’t... I didn’t...”
“Yes, you didn’t,” Jason muttered. He glared at her, his hands braced on his hips. “This will reverberate through the entire circus. Lemaitre’s going to pop an artery over this, and Theo—Theo walked out as soon as you were safe on the ground, to go have a mental fucking breakdown. He’s curled up in a rubber room somewhere, rocking in a ball. And you! You could have died, Sara. Minya the second. That would have been a fucking thing.”
He stalked away from her. She’d never seen him so angry before. She wanted his tenderness back, his calming arms around her. She hunched over, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Tell someone. Get a new partner. Deal with your problems.”
“But what if something had happened?” she asked. “What if the new partner didn’t come, what if I lost my job?”
“Lost your job?” He came back to her and grabbed her shoulders. “What if you lost your life? Don’t you get it? Baat could have killed you. Why was that okay, that risk? Why did you let it go on? You knew he had a problem, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I was trying to protect him. In Mongolia, families support each other. Baat’s the closest thing I have to family.”
“No. This has nothing to do with family or supporting each other. Don’t play some cultural card with me.”
“He wasn’t that bad, not as bad as you think. His friend sent him Mongolian spirits. He wasn’t used to them. You remember how potent they are.”
“Don’t, Sara. Don’t make excuses for him.”
“In Mongolia, drinking is normal. All men do it,” she persisted. “I know that doesn’t matter to you, I know you don’t believe me—” Her words cut off in her throat. He’d told her not to make excuses. Her excuses were nothing but lies, anyway. “Yes,” she said, defeated. “I knew and I kept quiet. I was afraid of losing the act. I was afraid of being sent home.”
“They would have sent him, not you.” Jason let go of her. “If you’d talked to me, I could have told you that. If you’d confided in me, in anyone...” He shook his head, his lips set in a grim line. “You betrayed my trust, and Theo’s, and all of Cirque du Monde when you kept quiet about Baat’s alcoholism. What else aren’t you telling me? If you’ll stay silent about a big thing like that?”
His gaze was awful, piercing and accusatory. She shook her head. “There’s nothing else. I swear. It was only...only Baat. I was so afraid of being fired. I thought when we got settled into a show somewhere, he would get better.”
“Now he’ll get better, because Lemaitre will get him the help he needs. A process that could have started a long time ago.”
Every word pained her. Each syllable of his displeasure felt as painful as a stroke of the cane. She’d deceived and disappointed her Master and she didn’t think she could survive how awful it felt.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sobbing into her hands. “I’m sorry I made you so angry.”
“No.” He pulled her hands away from her face. “My anger is not the issue here. The issue is that I might have lost you tonight. We all might have lost you because of this choice you made, and you’re the only fucking Sara we have. Do you understand that?”
She couldn’t answer him. She was crying too hard. He pulled her into his arms, letting his breath out against her cheek. “Jesus, little girl. Why did you do this to me?”
“I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I did.”
“I’m sure you are,” he said, hugging her tighter. “Still, you’ll have to be punished for this.”
She shuddered, shrinking in his arms. He was so angry. It would be a terrible punishment.
He tipped her head back, gazing into her eyes. “You’ve been through enough for one day, but you’ll be punished tomorrow. Severely. Because I never, ever want you to keep a secret like this again.”
She hid her face in his chest, clinging to him. “Yes, Master.” She wanted him to punish her because she deserved it, but she already knew she’d never keep anything from him again. It felt too awful when he caught her at it.
He drew away and offered her a tissue to wipe her tears. She blew her nose into it too. She was a sniveling mess. While she cleaned up, he undressed and drew back the sheets.
“Lie down on the bed.”
She did as he asked and he came over her, spreading her legs apart. His lips brushed against her ear. “You know I’m only angry with you because I love you so much.”
His quiet words started her tears flowing again. He kissed them as they fell, moving his lips across her cheek. He positioned his cock between her legs and pushed inside her. Pleasure mingled with shame.
“Open for me,” he said when she tensed away from him. “I might have lost you, Sara. I want all of you now.”
She spread her legs wide, as wide as she could, and trembled as he took her. His thrusts were steady and rough, a slow torment that roused her to a climax even though she felt she didn’t deserve one. She cried all over him as she came, squeezing on the length of him inside her. A moment later he groaned and wrapped her in his arms. Just before he came, he looked in her eyes and mumbled something under his breath. She thought he might have said “eternal,” but then his mouth was on hers and she couldn’t think about it anymore.
* * * * *
When Sara woke, the passionate lover of the night before had been replaced by a stern and silent Master. She spent breakfast exiled at his feet, in slave position, accepting bits of food when he offered them. They didn’t converse and she didn’t get much to eat, but she didn’t want it anyway. She was too frightened of the punishment to come. And after the punishment, she’d still have to face the other consequences, like Theo’s displeasure and Mr. Lemaitre’s judgment. She wouldn’t be able to work with Baat anymore, and that scared her most of all. What would happen with Cirque, with her career?
She looked down at the pale blue stone on her finger. What if Jason reconsidered his pledge to her, now that he saw how selfish and deceitful she could be? All along he’d
been there for her, but she’d tried to deal with everything on her own. Stupid, so stupid. She gazed up at him, wishing she’d been honest. But so many of her fears were tied up in him, or more specifically, losing him. She didn’t want to go back to her old life without him.
When Jason finished eating, he shifted in his chair and drew her between his legs to serve him. She licked and caressed his cock, bringing him to full hardness. He pushed his plate away with a scrape and grabbed a handful of her hair, burying himself deep in her mouth. When Jason took over there wasn’t much to do but endure his aggression and try not to gag too much. She was glad they’d begun the day with this. Kneeling at his feet, choking on his deep thrusts, all of it put her in the mind for powerlessness, and accepting the punishment she’d earned. As soon as he came in the back of her throat, he ordered her up the stairs.
In his bedroom, he made her submit to the ignominy of a ball gag in her mouth. She hated gags for so many reasons: because they silenced her, because they were ugly, because they made her drool, but mostly because they signaled a hardcore session with a lot of pain.
But punishments had to be about pain, not pleasure. She sank down into her slave pose at the foot of Jason’s bed and watched forlornly as he gathered equipment. Strap, paddle, belt, cane. One magnum-sized condom. She shuddered as he lined them all up in a row.