I got down off the stage and headed for the exit. Outside, a short, swarthy man stood in the shadows. I didn’t recognise him.

Matt was on the door. ‘He says he wants to talk to you alone, Sir,’ he said. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘Stay there.’

As I walked towards the man, he drew further back and turned into the alley that ran down towards the road. Something didn’t feel right, but I knew I had to talk to him. If he really had a copy of the tape, it put us right back to square one. My heart sank at the thought of it.

As I turned the corner into the alley, something hit me over the head. For a moment, everything stood stock still, then a searing pain split my head in two and I looked down to find the ground rushing up to meet me.

    Forty Eight

Her

I couldn’t believe Nat had gone. I was left standing there, naked and helpless, strapped to the St Andrew’s cross. The spotlights were dazzling me. All I could make out were the rows of eyes staring at me, so it was with some relief that I saw the man, Alex, coming over to stand in front of me.

Hurry up and get me down, I thought. Now Nat had gone, my excitement had evaporated as if it had never been. My wrists were starting to hurt and I didn’t know what was going on. The crowd seemed to be loving it, although a few of them had turned around, presumably to see where Nat had gone.

‘All right, folks,’ called Alex. ‘Nothing to worry about. Now, where were we?’

He turned to face me, an evil glint in his eyes. I felt my pulse quicken, as the implication of his words dawned on me. He strode over to me and I let the chain drop from my teeth, ready to beg him to let me go.

‘Uh-huh,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Put it back in, there’s a good girl.’

I looked at him, still not quite comprehending. The way he stared back at me made me shiver, involuntarily. He lifted the chain back up to my mouth. ‘Open wide,’ he said. ‘Don’t keep your audience waiting.’

He took the cane from where Nat had thrown it and paced up and down in front of me for a moment, running it across his palm.

‘I don’t get the feeling Master Nat was really putting his all into it,’ he said, hitting his palm with the cane. ‘You know, a split cane…’ Here he lifted it up and brought it down hard across the table. ‘…can cause a quite extreme amount of pain.’

He held the cane up to my face. The ends of it had splayed, separated into wicked looking fronds. ‘Split like this,’ he said. ‘Let me show you what I mean.’

He stood back from me and raised the cane. As he brought it down across the underside of my right breast, I flinched away. But it was no good – I couldn’t move. I was literally helpless and all I could do was to steel myself for the blow.

When it came, it was excruciating. The split flails at the end of it burnt into my skin in strips of fire. Alex’s eyes were hard and unseeing, as if he’d forgotten I was actually a person. I didn’t get the feeling he was angry with me, more that he was taking his anger out on me. I wondered who had pissed him off so badly. From the way he was acting, it seemed it was Nat, and I wondered what he’d done to make him so bitter.

Alex raised the cane again, and brought it down across the underside of my breast for the second time, its fronds searing into my exposed flesh and making me wince. I bit down on the chain to stifle my cries. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of showing him how much he was hurting me.

The audience were cheering and whistling, seemingly oblivious to my pain and humiliation. Or not, I realised, suddenly. This was what a lot of them got off on. No wonder they were enjoying it. Christ – I’d thought I would. It wasn’t a world away from my original fantasies. I could almost hear Valentina, the counsellor’s, words:

‘A good fantasy is safe…controlled by you. If you go out there and find it somewhere else, it won’t be safe. It won’t be anything like you imagine.’

She couldn’t have been more right. As Alex tore into my breasts with the cane and the audience screamed with excitement, I writhed on the cross, wishing I was a world away from Dominion.

Finally, he stopped, and let the cane drop to the floor. He seemed nervous, hyped up, and kept looking over at the door. I guessed he was wondering how long Nat would be. He wasn’t the only one.

He turned to the audience. ‘I think it’s about time we saw what lies beneath the mask, don’t you?’ he said, before turning back and walking around behind me, full of purpose.

    Forty Nine

Him

I don’t know how long I was out cold. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, because nobody had come looking for me, but my neck was stiff and the arm I’d landed on was numb. I put my hand up to my head. There was a lump on it, and smears of blood on my fingers but, all in all, I’d got away lightly.

As I pulled myself to my feet, I wondered what it had all been in aid of. Did the guy really have a copy of the tape? If he did, why’d he done a runner? My head was thumping but, as my brain cleared, it became evident to me that it had been a set-up – I’d sensed something was off from the get-go. I headed back into the club, trying to figure out what was behind it all.

It wasn’t until I got inside that I remembered Grace. I’d left her on the stage, shackled to the cross and exposed. What had I been thinking of? At least Alex had been there, to sort things out and see she was safe. I heaved a sigh of relief, as I entered the club proper.

The sigh died on my lips as I glanced across the dance floor towards the stage. What the fuck? Grace was still bound and naked, Alex behind her, presumably undoing the bindings on her wrists. And yet…

Something wasn’t right. For a start, to unshackle her wrists before her ankles would be unsafe. She could pitch forward and hurt herself – Alex would know that. Secondly, she seemed to be shying away from him. I didn’t like her defensive posture one bit. She should be feeling safe, but she evidently wasn’t.

As I neared her and saw the purple lines across her breasts, I let out a yell.

Alex looked up at me and grinned in an imitation of affability which would have rivalled Giles’s. As I got closer to the stage, I realised what he was doing. He was undoing the laces on the back of Grace’s mask. Evidently, I’d done a good job, because he seemed to be having difficulty getting them open.

Just as I reached the stage, he gave a cry of triumph and turned to the audience. They were looking on, bemused, at the turn of events. None of them looked comfortable.

‘Here’s the Filth Monger’s slut,’ shouted Alex, as he put his hands either side of her head, as if to pull off the mask.

As he started to lift the leather, I leapt onto the stage and threw myself at him. As he fell backwards, he had a satisfied gleam in his eye and I noticed he was looking down at his own hand.

I was too late – he was holding Grace’s mask.

    Fifty

Her

When he pulled my mask off, I simply froze. There was nothing I could do and, as the eyes of the audience widened as they realised who I was, I could only stare back, realising at last how awful it really was to have no recourse to modesty.

It was bare seconds before Nat was upon me, trying to cover me with his jacket as he bent down to undo the straps binding my legs.

‘My God, Grace.’ He stood up and started to untie my wrists. ‘I’m so sorry. Alex…I should’ve realised.’

Once my wrists were free, he pulled me towards him, wrapping me in his jacket before putting his hand to my mouth. From between my teeth, he pulled the nipple clamp chain. I looked down at it, numbly. I hadn’t even realised it was still there – I’d been so caught up in the horror of the moment.