The Training of Toby (Masters of the Mansion Book 2) Read online

  Kindle Edition

  ©The Training of Toby

  ©Masters of the Mansion Series

  Copyright © 2013 Suzanne Steele

  Published by Suzanne Steele

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of Fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This book contains fictional acts of BDSM. It is not, in any way, to be used as a manual for safe, sane forms of BDSM by current practitioners in the lifestyle. This book is not, in any way, a teaching manual. All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced. It may not be used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the Author.

  Cover photo © Dollar Photo Club

  Cover Copyright © Suzanne Steele

  Edited by Corey Amador

  Cover Design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Formatting by Suzanne Steele

  Thank you for downloading this e-book.

  Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  All content herein is protected under copyright law.

  This e-book is Rated 18+

  To the reader

  The men I write about are Alpha males in every sense of the word. They are the men society warns us about. They are dominant males with controlling tendencies. They are the men you know you should stay away from, yet

  you are drawn like a moth to a flame.

  If you are looking for a sweet romance, you won't find it here. What you will find is dark passion. Many times my heroes carry what would be considered an obsession for the women they love. Each and every character I write about has demanded their voice be heard. I have been true to that calling and I have stayed true to their personalities, which at times the reader may not always agree with. They are dark, they are gritty, and many times their love is dysfunctional but, nonetheless, it is real.

  Stalk Me…

  Suzanne Steele’s Blog: http://suzannesteelesblog.wordpress.com/

  Suzanne Steele’s Twitter:

  https://twitter.com/Suzanne_Steele_

  Suzanne Steele’s Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/suzannesteele

  Suzanne Steele’s Facebook

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Suzanne-Steele/160387180790420?ref=hl

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  `Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  The Killer

  The killer watched the object of his obsession as the young man stood talking to his friend on the corner. The darkened side street provided the cover he needed for his voyeuristic pleasure. He had been watching for quite some time, looking forward to the moment he would finally come face to face with his addiction. Like any true predator, he loved the thrill of the hunt. He didn’t always want to kill, but they forced him to at times. Why couldn’t they understand how much he had done for them? The endless hours he’d spent planning and seemingly insurmountable obstacles he’d overcome just to be with them meant that he couldn’t allow their rejection to go unpunished. Maybe this one would be different…

  He wondered about people. He pictured the masses and thought about how they wake up in the morning, thinking about what they would wear, what their schedule held for the day, and how they needed to leave early enough to grab that gourmet coffee they just had to have.

  It was different for him. When he woke up, he thought about the hunt. He thought about the object of his obsession, Toby. Well, this time it was Toby. There had been others before him, so many others.

  Like any serial killer, his life ran in nasty little cycles and his were always the same. First and always, he would fixate on someone. Sometimes all it took was an innocent smile or a simple, harmless comment and he was hooked. In a matter of seconds, that person would go from complete stranger, to unsuspecting victim, and the hunt would begin. It was so easy nowadays with the Internet too. He’d read somewhere that the rise in stalking cases had gone up astronomically since the introduction of PCs. He’d spend his time daydreaming about that perfect moment when he was able to meet them and how wonderful it would be when they realized they were just as enamored with him as he was with them. Unfortunately, it hasn’t happened like that yet. It never failed; something always went wrong and they would reject his advances. That’s when things got really ugly.

  Why didn’t they realize how much he had done for them? Did they not know how many people he had to remove out of his way in order to get to them? How dare they not appreciate his love for them! That was when love turned into something very, very ugly. But was it love in the first place? Could something so dark and depraved be called love, or was it just some form of deviant obsession? He didn’t know and, truth be told, didn’t give a fuck. Right now, there was only Toby. The killer took great pleasure in the fact that the boy had no idea he was being watched and had been for over a month. From the cover of darkness, the killer silently observed as Toby smoked his cigarette and talked with his friend, just waiting for the perfect time to strike.

  Toby

  Toby pulled his hoodie up to use it as a shield, trying to block the rain that was mercilessly pelting down on his face and body. He wouldn’t even be out here, standing on the corner of 4th and Magnolia, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was completely out of options. He’d be homeless in just a matter of days.

  “I hate that I’m having to hustle to make a living but I really don’t have a fucking choice,” he spoke to himself more so than his best friend, Allyn, who was standing out there with him. “I’m two days away from getting kicked out of my dump of an apartment.” His friend’s voice pulled him out of his melancholy state.

  “Look, I know you’ve never done this before, but it’s a hell of a lot better than living on the street.”

  “I’m not gay, dude. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Just give blowjobs instead of letting a john fuck you. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Geez, did you hear anything I said? To each his own but, like I said, I’m not gay and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Half of the working boys out here aren’t gay. They’re just trying to keep a roof over their heads like you. Being gay isn’t part of the job description, sucking cock is.”

  “Yeah, but why can’t it be eating pussy?”

  “Because that’s for the high dollar hustlers, not the street boys like you and me.”

  Toby tossed the cigarette he was smoking and eyed the black Cadillac that pulled up. Allyn made his
way over and he found himself being glad his friend was taking this one and not him. Allyn talked to the guy for a bit. The man looked like he was one drink away from being inebriated. What the fuck was he doing behind the wheel of a car?

  Great… not only do I have to deal with turning a trick, I might have to do it with a drunk too.

  As fate would have it, the john crooked his finger in Toby’s direction, signifying that he wanted him to get in the car. Reluctantly, he made his way over.

  “Get in.”

  Toby got in, grateful to be out of the rain at least, but it didn’t help loosen the knots in his stomach. He hated drunks and he sure as hell didn’t relish the idea of being in the car with one.

  “Are you going to shut the door?” the man asked, leering at Toby as if he were a piece of meat hanging in a butcher’s shop window.

  The lecherous look on the john’s face, coupled with his bloodshot eyes and the stench of day-old liquor on his breath, only magnified the sick, empty, hollow feeling in Toby’s gut. He shut the car door, trying to ignore the fact that his hackles had risen. He looked over at the man and directed him to make his way up the road and turn right. His apartment was only two blocks away and from the looks of this guy, Toby was glad they didn’t have a long drive ahead of them. He was nervous enough about turning his first trick and didn’t need the fear of being in a car with a drunk driver behind the wheel to add to it.

  Living in this neighborhood is how he met his best friend, Allyn. He was a good guy and had already informed Toby that he would’ve let him live with him but, at present, he was living with his sugar daddy and there wasn’t room for another tenant. Allyn was gay and he was the one who introduced Toby to hustling, though he doesn’t work the streets anymore. He’d only come out here tonight to show him the ropes. Though he and Allyn had nothing in common sexually, their time on the streets, and the dangers experienced therein, had forged a friendship between the two of them.

  He directed the john to pull into the parking lot and that’s when the shit hit the fan.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “What the fuck do you mean you can’t do this?”

  “I mean I can’t do this. Look, I’m not even gay, dude.”

  The contempt in the man’s eyes made his unhappiness with Toby’s decision to back out of his commitment all too clear. He could already see the rage boiling in the man and he was certain the alcohol in the guy’s system was only compounding the issue.

  “Look, you little prick tease,” the older man snarled as he grabbed Toby’s upper arm.

  Toby was shocked by the amount of strength the older man had. His bloodshot, blue eyes and unkempt five o’ clock shadow were deceptive and had led him to believe that he could fight off the john if need be. He instinctively grabbed for the door handle in an attempt to escape. This was getting out of hand and the man was becoming more agitated by the second.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he sneered in a half drunken slur.

  “Anywhere but here!” Toby jerked his arm away. There was no way in hell he was going to let this drunk asshole into his apartment. It was bad enough that he had to fight his way out of the car. His feet hit the pavement and he darted into the dim hallway that housed the stairs leading up to the second floor. On shaky legs, Toby made it upstairs but his hands were trembling so badly, he fought to get his key into the lock.

  Loud footsteps and slurred cussing warned him that the man hadn’t given up on his desire to follow through with the date.

  Toby knew the man was off-kilter due to his alcohol consumption. The man’s drunken state gave him some extra time but his heart was still beating rapidly in fear. That fear was also seriously hindering his ability to get the apartment door unlocked and any extra time he gained from his sobriety advantage was quickly dwindling.

  He feared he was going to be forced to kick the man down the stairs more than he did the man doing him any kind of harm. He could imagine the horrific scenario of having to tell the cops that he had propositioned the man and then changed his mind, only to kick him down the stairs when he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  The john was now standing at the top of the stairwell, weaving, as he attempted to focus on Toby. Finally, just when he was certain he was, once again, going to be forced to fight the man off, the door opened. As if by some miracle of mercy, Toby made his way inside, unscathed. He quickly locked the deadbolt and chain and leaned against the door, breathing a sigh of relief.

  What the fuck had he been thinking? Even though he knew he only had two days before the landlord was going to throw all his stuff out on the street, he just couldn’t bring himself to sleep with someone, anyone, for money. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was. It wouldn’t have mattered even if it had been a woman threatening him and leering at him from the top of the steps. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It made him feel cheap. It made him feel dirty, and the fact that he was getting kicked out of his apartment in two days, did nothing to change the sick feeling that he got in his gut. When he thought about sleeping with a stranger for money, his nausea only intensified.

  Chapter One

  Agent Turner

  Agent Turner stood over the body of a young man who was nothing more than what he would consider to be a kid. As if reading his thoughts, his partner, Rene, spoke.

  “His name is Allyn Seiler. This kid is only eighteen years old, way too young to die.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Agent Turner agreed.

  They both looked up to see a vehicle driving down to where they stood at the end of the dead end street. The decals on the white van identified the occupant as the medical examiner and he was always a welcome sight. There were very few people who could see the final moments of a victim’s life and piece the clues together to make sense. Herb Foster was one of those few.

  “Didn’t even attempt to hide his body,” Herb spoke as he made his way over to them. “So young,” were the first words that came out of his mouth. “Are you the officer who found him?” Herb addressed the only uniform there.

  “Yeah, it was right out in the open, almost like they wanted him found. I just saw this kid last night.”

  “Was he with anybody?” Agent Turner asked.

  “Some kid named Toby who lives a couple blocks over. This kid hustles but the Toby kid… I don’t think so. I think they’re just friends.”

  “So, this is Allyn here and he hustles, or hustled I guess I should say.” Even though he didn’t know the young man, Agent Turner couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness over the boy’s untimely death. He was just so damn young.

  “Oh yeah, he’s a hustler alright or, at least, he used to be. Last I heard, he got himself a sugar daddy, moved in with him, and wasn’t in the game anymore. I just figured those two were hanging out talking last night or I would have issued a loitering citation. I try not to be too much of a hard ass out here or I can’t get any information when I need it. Y’all know how it is for a beat cop.”

  “I’m going to need Toby’s last name,” Agent Turner answered, hearing, but not acknowledging, all the new information.

  “I don’t know his last name but I’ll do some asking around and find out for you.” Rene made her way over to hand him a business card and he waved his hand at her as if pushing the card away. “Ah heck, Miss Rene, I’ve already got your number. I’ve had it forever, just hoping you would let me take you to dinner one evening.”

  “She’s at work, Officer Rudolph!”

  Officer Bruno Rudolph simply ignored Agent Turner the way he always did and continued talking to Rene. “I’ll call ya when I hear something, Miss Rene.”

  It seemed the poor guy’s hillbilly accent came out even thicker when he was in Rene’s presence. He’s had a terrible crush on her since the first day he laid eyes on her and it completely blinded him from seeing the jealous rage it provoked in Agent Turner.

  In Agent Turner’s eyes, the man’s massive 6’ stature of pure musc
le was no threat to him when it came to his Mistress. Bruno Rudolph might be the cliché corn-fed, backwoods, country boy, but Agent Turner was more than able to defend himself and he was definitely willing and able to defend and protect the honor of the woman he loved. Logically, he had to admit, he knew Bruno would never do anything to threaten her honor, not with his staunch, country upbringing. With Bruno, it was always yes ma’am and the utmost respect and best manners when it came to those of the opposite sex. After all, he’d been raised right. Still, he didn’t like his interest in Rene. She was his Mistress and he was fiercely possessive.

  The medical examiner’s voice cut through the ongoing conversations. “This kid wasn’t killed here. Do you see all this blood on his groin? He bled out somewhere else and was dumped here later. His clothing is soaked with blood but there’s nothing underneath him. That concrete is as clean as a whistle. I’m going to have to get him on my table before I can tell you anymore.”

  Rene stood off to the side, talking with the officer and getting the address of the kid who had been with the victim the night before. Right now, it just looked like someone had picked up a hooker to kill. It wasn’t uncommon for killers to pick up prostitutes, male or female, when they were hungry for blood.

  Agent Turner stood and eyed his partner. “Let’s go. If we want to catch the kid who was with him last night, now is the best time. Hopefully, we’ll get to him before he wakes up.” As far as he was concerned, it would serve a two-fold purpose: they could catch Toby off-guard and he could get Rene away from the beat cop.

  He waited until they were in the car to vent. “What the fuck is it with that guy? He just doesn’t give up!”

  “Why, if I didn’t know any better, David, I might think you were jealous.”

  “It’s Agent Turner at work and another thing, it isn’t professional for him to be openly hitting on you in public.”

  “Outbursts like this aren’t professional, Agent Turner.”

  “Whatever, Rene. Whatever.”

  “Your jealousy is going to alert people to the fact that we’re fucking, David.”