Make Me, Sir

Chapter Eighteen 

 

Sitting quietly—and nakedly—in a roped-off scene area, Gabi waited for Marcus to return. The plastic drape covering the waist-high bondage table crackled under her butt. Around her, the Shadowlands warbled and soared with its own unique music: the Goth music of Cruxshadows pounding, impact toys cracking on bare flesh, a caged submissive crying in a high voice, a sub in a flogging scene moaning. 

 

The fragrance of leather mingled with sex and sweat and perfume. She held her arm to her face and inhaled the lingering scent from where Marcus had gripped her wrist. 

 

This was her last night here, Gabi thought. It was almost over, and no one had made an effort to lure her out of the building. Would the perp try for her later, after she left? Or maybe he hadn"t taken the bait. Had he targeted someone else?

 

 

What if nothing happened now? She felt like dancing in relief…and crying. 

 

What about the women he"d kidnapped? What about Kim? Her hands fisted; then she forced her fingers to open. You can only do what you can do.  

 

Tonight, she"d act like a brat; this was her part to do. And she"d enjoy it as much as possible. Because, as Kim and the other women had found, sometimes things go bad. If the kidnapper did manage to get Gabi, at least she"d have lived. 

 

And loved? She shook her head. Live for today. Tomorrow can wait.  

 

A scream of release turned her attention to the flogging scene where the submissive writhed against the St. Andrew"s cross. The dom dropped his flogger and pumped his fingers into her p-ssy, and she shrieked higher, obviously coming again. 

 

At least someone was having a good night. I’m not sure I am. While serving drinks, she"d acted obnoxious enough to collect some nasty reprimands from the Masters. Now Marcus planned to play with her—with hot wax. 

 

And he calls it playing? Like, whatever happened to chess? Or cards? Or tag?  

 

As he strode into the roped-off area, carrying a tray of ominous-looking things, excitement speared low in her belly, along with a hell of a lot of anxiety. 

 

He set the tray on a table and moved it closer. “There we go. All ready.” 

 

Her hands turned clammy. “I don"t think I want to do this.” 

 

Marcus smiled at her and pulled her legs open, securing her knees to the straps on each side of the hip-wide table. He kissed her lightly, then put his hand Masters of the Shadowlands 5: Make Me, Sir 

 

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over her face and pushed her down, making her giggle, at least until he put a strap across her hips. Oh man. 

 

“Do you prefer your arms above your head or at your sides?” he asked, ever so polite, the bastard, as if she didn"t see the amusement in his eyes at her squirming. 

 

She wiggled—tried to, at least—and the knowledge that she couldn"t escape sent a wave of heat rolling over her even as her breathing increased and fear trickled into her belly. No, hot wax wasn"t a good idea. “I prefer not to do this. I changed my mind.” 

 

He rubbed his jaw and looked at her quizzically. “Did I ask your permission? 

 

No, I didn"t. Little trainee”—he emphasized the word—“if you didn"t mark something as a hard limit, then you get to try it.” 

 

Oh God. “But—” 

 

He leaned his weight on his forearm beside her head, his eyes intent on hers. 

 

“If after we"ve started, you find this too much for you, for whatever reason, use your safe word. Do you trust me, Gabrielle?” 

 

“Too damn much if you ask me,” she grumbled. “Look at the stuff you"ve gotten me into.” 

 

“Look what you"ve learned about yourself, sugar.” He kissed her, taking charge of it and letting her feel that he had. By the time he lifted his head, desire bubbled in her veins and turned to a hot sizzle when his hand cupped her breast. How did he do this to her, take away all her willpower to fight? 

 

How could he turn her on with one single smile? 

 

Still leaning on his arm, he caressed her breasts. His licked finger stroked wetness in circles over the areola. As if he had nothing better to do, he studied how her nipples bunched into peaks. A mild pinch on each tip shot a roaring blast straight to her * as if she had a freeway running from her breasts to her p-ssy. 

 

His eyes stayed focused on her face as he slid his hand down to the junction between her legs. “For someone who doesn"t want to do this, you"re a tad wet, sugar,” he murmured. His fingers played in the betraying wetness, tugging at her folds, sliding over her *, teasing her entrance. 

 

Her * tightened, and she actually felt blood swelling her labia until she throbbed. “It"s not the wax; it"s you.” Her voice came out breathless. 

 

His eyes crinkled. “Now that is purely nice to hear, sugar.” 

 

He straightened and pulled a strap across the table, positioning it below her breasts to restrain her arms at her sides. Another strap went a few inches above her nipples, and the two squeezed her breasts between them, pulling the skin taut. 

 

“Very pretty,” he said and tugged the hard peaks lightly, showing her how sensitive they"d become. 

 

She bit back a moan and tried to remember she needed to act disobedient. He made it so difficult. One stern look from him and she waved the white flag every time. 

 

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Or at least until she regained her wits. 

 

After drizzling massage oil onto her stomach, he massaged it in, from above her breasts to her inner thighs. When he dripped more over her *, the electrifying impact of the tiny drops made her shudder. Then she gulped. There? Why was he putting anything anywhere near her p-ssy? “Why oil?” 

 

“You have beautifully delicate skin, Gabi,” he said gently. “The oil keeps the wax from sticking as much. Maybe someday we"ll try it without.” 

 

They had no someday. The thought sent a stab of regret through her. But what if there were? Would he want to see her after this? 

 

He shoved the small table closer and lit a white candle. Her arms tried to lift against the restraints. Get it away. Oh God, he really planned to do this. 

 

After rolling up the sleeves of his white tailored shirt, exposing those muscular forearms that really didn"t belong on a lawyer, he picked up the candle. He dripped some wax on his inner elbow, grunted, and raised the candle higher. More wax splatted onto his arm. “That"ll do.” 

 

She couldn"t take her eyes from the dancing flame. No, this was so wrong. 

 

Candles should be used for meditation…for romance. Or on a birthday cake at least. 

 

So where was the cake? The present? The song?  

 

As he stepped closer to her—as the damned flame got way too close—she started singing. “Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me…” 

 

Marcus paused, looking at her in disbelief. 

 

See. I knew he didn’t have a sense of humor. “Happy birthday, dear Gabi”—she lifted her head and blew out the candle—“happy birthday to me.” 

 

He stared at her, and she tensed, and then he burst out laughing, so loud and strong that she giggled. God, he was so incredibly sexy when he laughed. 

 

The stony-faced Master Nolan walked into the roped-off area and stared at her with unforgiving, dark eyes. “Marcus, you"re a pitiful excuse for a dom, let alone a trainer,” he said in his rough voice. And loudly too. “Beat her. Don"t laugh at her.” 

 

She scowled at him. “We don"t need you here.” 

 

With a snort of disgust, Nolan held up a tiny, tiny flogger with a palm-sized handle and thin suede strips. “Z got these today and sent one as a gift for your trainee.” 

 

It was totally cute. Marcus could lash her all day without doing any damage. 

 

She grinned. “A widdle flogger. Oooo, I"m scared now.” 

 

“I do believe you"re right. The trainee is getting ornery,” Marcus said in his soft voice. He took the flogger and smiled at her. “It"s little, sugar, because it"s meant for little places.” With a flick of his wrist, he brought the strands down right on her p-ssy. 

 

“Ack!” Her back arched as she fought the straps, tried to bring her legs together as he gave her two more whaps. “Jesus Christ! What are—” 

 

He lifted an eyebrow and the flogger at the same time. 

 

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She shut right up. Her * had been swollen from his fingers. Now it throbbed and burned. Wetness trickled through her folds, and she sucked in a breath. God, if he lashed her again, she might come. 

 

Nolan glanced at her p-ssy and snorted a laugh. “It"s not a good punishment for her, Marcus. She likes p-ssy whipping too much.” 

 

Smiling, Marcus pressed his palm between her legs, his intent blue eyes on her face as his fingers slipped and slid in her folds. “Well now, darlin", we might could have some fun with this later tonight.” 

 

The threat—promise—made her her p-ssy clench, and he laughed. 

 

Nolan shook his head, slapped him on the shoulder, and returned to the redheaded sub waiting outside the roped-off area. 

 

Marcus circled his fingers around her entrance, sliding so easily she knew her p-ssy must be drenched. “I do think you need something in that li"l cunt.” He turned away from her, leaving her throbbing, and rummaged in his leather toy bag. 

 

Her eyes widened when he held up the vibrator from the previous night. “I forgot to tell you that this is yours now, sugar. Before you take it home, we might as well get one more use of it.” 

 

“You wouldn"t.” 

 

He glanced at her in amusement. “Of course I would. Haven"t you learned anything yet?” He pushed the nubby penis shape against her entrance, and despite how wet she was, she was also still swollen from yesterday. She groaned as sensitive tissues stretched. He seated it deep inside her, and her vagina pulsed around the intrusion with each beat of her heart. 

 

At least he hadn"t turned it on. 

 

Marcus stepped closer to the tray, picked up the candle, and frowned at it. 

 

After a second"s thought, he pulled a blindfold from his toy bag and firmly tied the soft silk over her eyes. “I don"t want to gag you, sugar, but one blown-out candle is your limit. I figure if you can"t see the flame, you can"t huff and puff at it.” 

 

She couldn"t see anything…couldn"t tell what he was doing. A tremor shook her. 

 

“Yes, blindness makes everything more intense.” 

 

Ears straining, she caught the crack of a paddle. Not close. Moaning. A man somewhere on her right cried in gut-wrenching sobs. A woman gave hard-voiced orders. Cullen"s hearty laugh. 

 

The lighter clicked. Oh, God. She sniffed, trying to tell if he"d moved the candle closer. 

 

“I use candles without fragrance, Gabi,” he said and chuckled. “For safety. You won"t smell anything approaching.” 

 

Something hit her stomach. She jerked at the momentary burn, then relaxed as it faded to warmth. 

 

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After a second, Marcus pried the wax from her skin and ran his finger over the spot. “Just right,” he murmured. 

 

Then she had no chance to process anything as hot drips of wax created a line across her stomach, slow drip after slow drip, each burning sensation blossoming over her nerves before fading. He drew one line down to her lower stomach and back up. Circled her belly button. The heat became more intense, then cooler. She couldn"t predict where the next drop would start, and her skin grew more sensitive, waiting for the slight pain, then the warmth. 

 

He covered her stomach, gradually moving upward to between her breasts. 

 

She held her breath as the splats of wax headed left, circling the curve of her breast, around and around, closer and closer to her nipple. Sometimes very hot, sometimes just warm, so she couldn"t predict what any one would feel like, but she cringed, anticipating— 

 

A splat of wax hit right on the very peak. Her back arched uncontrollably. Hot, hot, it pulled like wet sucking lips around her nipple. As the sensation spread through her breast, she almost came right then. 

 

She panted, aroused beyond bearing, and heard him murmur, “You"re doin" 

 

fine, sugar. Just fine.” He stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. 

 

Wax dropped onto her stomach again, the heat soaking into her skin and heading in an unrelenting line straight upward to her right breast. By the time wax impacted her other nipple with the bite of pain, she seemed to be submerged in cotton balls, feeling nothing except the sensations crawling across her body and the sheer need coiling inside her. 

 

She felt his hand between her legs, and the vibrator clicked on, clicked more times as he cycled through the choices to one where the intensity of the vibrations surged up and down like ocean waves. All the nerves inside her awoke as if she had a second * deep in her vagina. Her hips tried to lift, held in place by the strap, and her p-ssy clenched over and over around the intrusion. 

 

Suddenly more wax drizzled back and forth across her stomach, hotter this time, but it didn"t seem to matter. Lower, crisscrossing to her hips in measured splat after hot splat, venturing down her thighs and up. As the lines drifted farther toward the inside of her legs, she realized his goal and could only moan, unable to verbalize anything. 

 

Her * throbbed and swelled in anticipation. Ruthlessly he dripped the wax in an arc from her left inner thigh to high over her mound, down the right thigh, and back again, each set of hot drops closing drip by drip on her very center. As the vibrations inside her intensified, he changed direction. A drop of wax hit the top of her mound, a pause, another a little closer to her p-ssy, a pause, and another. Her lower half tightened more between each searingly hot impact. 

 

Closer…and the wait for the next seemed eternal. 

 

It hit— oh God—the hard, hot splat hit directly on her impossibly sensitive *. 

 

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“Aaaaah!” Everything inside her exploded outward in waves of excruciating pleasure, over and over. Every time they slowed, the vibrator inside her changed its rhythm and another inescapable climax shuddered through her. Her hips bucked against the immovable strap; her whole body tried to arch upward. 

 

When everything finally stopped, she struggled for air. God, that had been— 

 

Liquid poured directly onto her p-ssy— hot, hot, hot—and she screamed as another orgasm hit, brutally hard, shaking her like a rag doll. 

 

As the spasms faded, as the roaring in her ears receded, she realized the liquid hadn"t been hot at all—he"d poured ice water onto her p-ssy. 

 

“You…you sadist,” she gasped. He gently removed the vibrator, and she shivered at the cold, lonely feeling of being lost inside the clouds. 

 

His hands stroked soothingly over the tender area between her hips and thighs, his grip pulling her back to earth. “Easy, sugar, I"m here.” 

 

She met his gaze, and everything inside her melted like the wax he"d poured on her. I love you.  

 

 

 

* * * 

 

 

 

 Despite the oil, removing the wax from Gabi"s skin overloaded her senses and sent her back into subspace. Now buried in the blanket he"d wrapped her in, she blinked at him, her smart little mouth silent, as he cleaned up. Once finished, he put her corset and skirt in her arms and picked her up. 

 

He nuzzled her temple and inhaled her fragrance. Adrenaline still sizzled through his veins, the high of topping a little spitfire, reading her responses and reacting in turn, and taking her to the ultimate of pleasure. Sometimes topping a sub reminded him of working a jury until they reacted as he wanted, glaring at the accused and sympathizing with the victims. 

 

A good scene with a responsive sub was even better. And with Gabi? As his arms tightened around her, she sighed and rubbed her cheek against his chest. Had there ever been such a sweet, snuggly brat? His heart squeezed.

 

 

Before the night ended, they needed to have a long talk. 

 

As he searched for a good place to relax, he spotted Dan and Kari, Cullen and Andrea across the almost empty room at the chain station, watching Nolan play with his sub. Hell, in the Master"s meeting before opening, Nolan had mentioned that near the end of the night, he planned to nudge Beth forward and had invited the others to watch. Marcus had almost forgotten. 

 

With Gabi still in his arms, he took a chair across from Dan. 

 

Dan grinned. “Heard a lot of screaming from your direction.” He frowned at Gabi and nodded at Marcus"s feet. 

 

It took Marcus a second before he realized she shouldn"t sit in his lap. 

 

Cuddling didn"t make for bratlike opportunities. With a silent sigh, he shook her, wanting to kiss her instead. 

 

“Mmmm?” She blinked at him. 

 

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My puppy. He set her on her feet and nodded at the floor. “Down where you belong, darlin".” 

 

She gave him such a meltingly sweet look, he almost pulled her back on his lap. Then she remembered her role. “Belong? On the floor?” 

 

He pointed to his feet in answer. 

 

“Rat bastard,” she huffed. She knelt, and just when he thought she"d lost her touch, she glanced up at him and said loudly, “I can"t believe that out of one hundred thousand sperm, you were the fastest.” 

 

Dan choked on his drink, and Cullen"s loud laugh filled the air. Kari buried her head against Dan"s chest, her shoulders shaking. Andrea was laughing like a loon. 

 

Trying to seem angry, Marcus yanked her back so he could lean over and talk in her ear. Hopefully he"d appear to be giving her hell. Instead he told her the truth. 

 

“I"m liable to split a gut if you keep acting up, sugar.” 

 

She bowed her head, choking on giggles. Little brat was too cute for her own good, and where did she come up with those insults? “How do you feel? Are you able to kneel?” He half hoped she"d say she needed him to hold her. 

 

She was of stronger stuff. “I"m okay.” Her voice didn"t sound convinced. 

 

He straightened and said loudly, “I"d best keep you close so you don"t rile me up anymore.” After settling himself forward on the chair, he pulled her back until his legs enclosed her, and he gripped her nape in a mock hard grip. “Let me know if you get uncomfortable, darlin",” he murmured for her ears only. 

 

As she relaxed against him, he traced a finger over the black chain-link tattoo around her neck. She had matching ones on her ankles. One unpredictable, fascinating woman. 

 

What did she plan to do after today? Would she return to Miami right away? 

 

That wouldn"t work. They needed time to explore what they had together. She was attracted to him. A little sub couldn"t disguise that or her response to him in bed. 

 

And now that he could distinguish what portion of her brattiness was acting versus pure ornery Gabi, he found her behavior more amusing than annoying. In the future—if they had one—when she sassed him, his taking her to task would reward them both. Funishment—not truly discipline. 

 

“This is your last night here,” he said, testing to see if she"d give a hint as to her plans. 

 

“Yeah.” She didn"t sound happy. 

 

Leaning forward, he massaged her shoulders. Her tense little body should still be relaxed, considering how far she"d gone under in the scene. He kissed the top of her head and said softly, “Something is bothering you.” 

 

She brushed her cheek against his with that unconscious affection he"d grown to love. “What if he isn"t caught? What about my friend? The other women?” 

 

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Her loyalty squeezed his heart, and he offered the only reassurance he could. 

 

“Our…friends…won"t give up.” 

 

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “No, they won"t.” Her lips curved. “They"re almost as stubborn as you are.” 

 

He nipped her earlobe in retaliation and smiled at her husky giggle. As she rested her cheek against his leg, he realized in surprise that he felt…content. 

 

Relaxed and happy in a way he hadn"t for, perhaps, years. 

 

Kneeling between Marcus"s legs, Gabi felt enclosed in safety as he played with her hair and traced his fingers across the back of her neck. 

 

The other two couples were watching the scene where the harsh dom, Master Nolan, caned… What had Andrea said his sub was named? Beth. Chains held the redheaded sub"s arms over her head, and a spreader bar kept her legs wide apart as Master Nolan beat on her. A flogger lay discarded on the floor, and now he tossed away the cane and picked up a leather tawse. Beth had tears in her eyes, but her nipples had peaked hard and her face was flushed. She waggled her hips and arched into the blows with more excitement than pain. 

 

Gabi shivered, remembering the flogging from Marcus, how the burning had somehow changed to pleasure until she couldn"t tell the difference. The redhead"s moans sure didn"t sound unhappy. Her dom worked her higher and higher, then switched to the little p-ssy flogger Marcus had used. Had Z given them to all the Masters? 

 

Nolan slapped the flogger across Beth"s breasts, then landed one right between her legs. The sub"s back arched as she screamed and shuddered in a long, awe-inspiring climax. 

 

Master Nolan"s face changed entirely as he smiled, and Gabi saw why his sub found him appealing. The rumble of his voice reached the people watching as he fisted a hand in Beth"s hair, leaning his body against hers. Her tremors eased. And then Nolan stepped back and swatted the flogger three more times right on her p-ssy, hard and fast. With an incredible look of shock, Beth climaxed again so violently that the chains rang. 

 

The watching doms grinned, murmuring approval of his skill. 

 

The rest of the Masters had arrived while Gabi had stared at the scene. Sam, a whip dangling from his belt, stood with arms folded across his chest. Mistress Anne sat in a leather chair, and a sub in a chain chest harness knelt at her feet. Raoul leaned against the back of the couch where Dan and Kari sat. 

 

Dan pulled Kari onto his lap, freeing up more space. His big hand splayed over her pregnant stomach, and he smiled at her like a man who had all his dreams right there in his arms. 

 

Gabi sighed. Would anyone ever look at her like that? 

 

Mistress Olivia sat down beside Dan and Kari. 

 

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Master Z had stood off to one side and now chose one of the two empty chairs. 

 

He had his short, curvy sub with him tonight, although Gabi didn"t remember seeing her recently. Z pointed to the floor. Jessica sank to a kneeling position, her face expressionless. 

 

As Nolan wrapped his arms around his restrained sub, Gabi glanced at Marcus and the other Masters. “Why"s everyone so happy?” she whispered to Marcus. 

 

He leaned down, crossing his arms under her breasts, and murmured in her ear: “Beth was married to a sadist who scarred her up simply to hear her scream. 

 

She ran away.” 

 

When Gabi squinted her eyes, she saw Beth"s white scar lines and puckered circles, marks like she"d seen on some of the victims she"d worked with. “The bastard. I hope he"s rotting behind bars.” 

 

“Underground actually, I believe. At any rate, when Beth came to the Shadowlands, she was too terrified to give up control. Z made her take Nolan as her dom.” 

 

Gabi suppressed a laugh. The meanest-looking dom in the place? If she"d been Beth, she"d have run like hell.

 

 

“He"s worked with her for months to get her over her fear of restraints. She trusts him now. Totally. So much that when he brings out floggers and canes, she doesn"t have a panic attack. He considers tonight her graduation in a way, and he wanted to show her that she could do it all.” 

 

Gabi watched as Nolan released his sub from the restraints, one big arm around her to hold her up. Beth"s eyes were fixed on the dom as if he held the sum total of her world. “I think she passed the test.” 

 

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