Spring Training (9 page)

Slick with sweat, her knees lost purchase. As she lay prostate, the whipping continued.

When, at long last, the torment ended, Brooke’s entire backside was on fire. Mistress Lola was skilled in the use of the whip. Brooke would bear the reminders of this night for weeks if not for the rest of her life.

“On your hands and knees, slave.” The woman’s voice left no room for rebellion.

Brooke struggled to obey. Every movement of muscle beneath her tortured skin sent knives through her body.

Brooke winced as Mistress wound the whip around her neck then, using it like a collar and leash, urged her forward. “Come along, slave.”

Every minced step was another form of torture on the palms of her hands and her knees. The woman in charge didn’t seem to be in a hurry as she led Brooke around the stocks where her Master watched. Did he hate seeing his slave treated as if she were an animal? She’d brought them both to this. Humiliation and shame chilled her blood.

Mistress guided Brooke between Todd’s legs, anchored as they were to the floor. A sharp tug on the whip around her neck focused her attention on her own sorry predicament. Mistress set a bowl of water on the floor in front of her. She drank greedily until the bowl was taken away, the cool liquid helping restore her faculties.

Another tug at her neck brought her upright to sit back on her heels.

“Your Master has a fine ass. Lick it. Stick your tongue in it, slave.”

No.
Brooke knew better than to say the word, but her head twisted in denial of the order. The whip tightened around her neck.

“Do it now, slave, or suffer the lash of my whip again. This time, I won’t be as careful of your lily-white skin.”

She looked up at her Master’s ass. She couldn’t do it. Not that doing so disgusted her. No part of her Master disgusted her. She would do anything he asked her to do, but not this way, not when the choice had been taken out of his hands.

“Wiggle your ass, sub. Let the little slave know how much you want it.”

Todd’s butt swayed from side to side then he bent his knees, dipping his ass lower in invitation.

“See, slave. He wants you to kiss his ass.” Another sharp tug
.

I’m so sorry, Master. Please forgive me for getting us both into this situation.
Brooke rose to her knees so she was eye-level with Todd’s backend.

“Use your hands to spread him, slave.”

His skin felt like a stove to her ice-cold fingers, but he remained still, almost so still she was afraid he’d quit breathing. He wasn’t the kind of man to allow this sort of intimacy. Doing so must be the worst kind of degradation for him.

Mistress’ hand wrapped in Brooke’s ponytail then shoved her face into Todd’s crack. “Kiss his ass, slave. Do it right, too. No half-assed ass kissing.” The sadistic woman laughed at her own joke.

Her tongue made its first tentative stroke, causing a tremor to run through Todd’s body.
I’m so sorry, Master.

When she tried it again, he rewarded her efforts by pushing back against her. Maybe he did like it, or was it pure torture for him, and he was only trying to lessen her punishment? This was her punishment, she had no doubt. Seeing her Master reduced to an object of another’s pleasure hit Brooke like a sledgehammer to her heart.

Would she ever see the pride of ownership in his eyes again, or would tonight take that away from them?

Taking the gift of submission his slight movement offered, Brooke stroked her tongue over the tight bud with more finesse, daring to tease the dark, forbidden center with the tip. Mistress Lola stood over her, one hand holding her whip/collar/leash, the other fisted in her ponytail.

“That’s it, slave. Push inside. Show him what it’s like to be a sub, to cede all control to someone else.”

If it had been any other human being, she would have enjoyed the demonstration of total submission, but it wasn’t some willful plaything. This was Todd Stevens. Her Master. For a moment, she considered putting a stop to the whole thing. If she safe-worded out of the scene, Mistress Lola would have no choice but to release them both.

“Don’t even think it, slave.” Mistress tightened her fist in Brooke’s hair. “He has agreed to this for you. You, slave. Don’t you think you’ve brought enough disappointment down on him? If you quit now, he’ll have no choice but to set you free.”

Brooke paused in her ministrations.

“Do not disappoint him again, Brooke. You are his slave, thus you are my slave. Find that place within yourself that longs to serve the man you love. There, you will find the strength to do whatever is asked of you.”

Find that place within yourself.

Why did you submit to me?

Find that place.

Why?

Frank’s question, coupled with the quiet certainty of Mistress Lola’s command swirled around in her brain like a tornado ripping across the prairie, shredding everything in its path, leveling pride, leaving nothing but humility in its wake.

You’ll find the strength to do whatever is asked of you.

Not weakness. Strength.

You’re the strongest person I know.

She’d scoffed when Todd told her that. Being a slave was her weakness, one her body craved, but her mind rebelled against.

You’ll find the strength.

Brooke pushed back against the hand forcing her face forward. Mistress eased her just far enough away that Todd’s firm ass filled her vision. She let his cheeks fall back into place, gently rubbing her hands in circles over them, admiring the beauty of the hard muscles.
Strength
. Strong enough to carry the burden of his life and hers.

Despite her gentle handling, he tightened his muscles into hard knots of tension. Then, suddenly, he relaxed.

Staring at the most vulnerable spot on her Master’s body, understanding crept into the empty spaces around her heart.
He’s strong enough for both of us. My strength comes from his love. As long as he loves me, I can do anything. I will do anything for him.

Peace settled over her like a warm cloak.

Slavery isn’t my weakness. It’s my strength. I serve him because I want to. Not because he commands me to. I serve him because it’s who I am.

“Kiss him, slave. Show him how strong his love makes you.”

Brooke didn’t need the gentle tug on her hair to spur her to action. Spreading him wide, she showed her Master how strong she was.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

He was going to hell for what he was doing to Brooke. His throat ached from yelling, not that anyone had heard. Between the gag choking him, the sound of Mistress Lola’s whip cracking against flesh, and Brooke’s piercing screams, he wasn’t even sure he’d made a sound. When he got loose from the stocks he’d foolishly allowed himself to be locked into, he was going to kill someone.

Tomorrow, he probably wouldn’t be able to stand, but at the rate he was dying inside, it wouldn’t matter.

His beautiful Brooke. So strong. So trusting.

He didn’t deserve her, and he intended to tell her so—if they both lived through the night.

“She’ll understand by night’s end,” Mistress Lola had promised, “or she’ll walk for good. Either way, you will both move forward.”

Why did he listen to her? Frank and his methods had been a mistake, but this sadistic punishment was even beyond his mentor’s depravity.

I’m sorry, Brooke, baby. Forgive me.

Mistress Lola finally gathered the length of her whip in a loose loop, stepping away from her victim. Todd sighed with relief. Brooke’s back looked like she’d rolled in stinging nettles. Angry red lines crisscrossed her from shoulders to just above her ankles. As best as he could tell, there didn’t appear to be any broken skin, but it was a near thing. It would take weeks for the bruising to go away.

He sniffed back tears nearly blinding him. Mistress Lola strode toward him, blocking his view of the woman he loved with every fiber of his being. The woman stopped inches in front of him.

“Shh,” she said, cradling his head in her hands. Another step brought her leather-clad breasts up against his face. “She’s a fine slave, Sir.” Her voice was low, he was certain only he could hear her. She stroked his hair back from his forehead in a gesture so tender it seemed impossible it came from the same hand that had, moments before, inflicted such vicious punishment on another human being. “Her strength comes from you. Your submission only magnifies the love you have for her.”

Another stroke along his brow, then she bent so her face was level with his. “Show her how much you love her, and I promise she’ll find what she’s looking for.”

The woman spoke in riddles. He had no idea what the fuck she meant. Hadn’t he been showing Brooke how much he loved her all along? How could her strength come from him when he knew for certain he drew strength from her? And the only thing his submission magnified was his stupidity—his incompetence as a Dom. There was no other explanation for Brooke’s pain.

“I know you want to stop this, but you trusted me enough to enter into tonight’s scene without a safe-word. Only Brooke can stop this, and if she hasn’t by now, she isn’t going to. That’s how much she loves you, Todd. She’ll do anything for you, even let a stranger tear her apart, literally and figuratively.” She cradled his confused head to her bosom once more before releasing him. “Remember that.”

The beautiful woman he loved so much raised to her hands and knees without a sound. He couldn’t imagine how much that cost her when the pain must be eating her alive. Mistress Lola had reduced Brooke to the level of a household pet, but his slave bore the indignity with surprising strength.

Pride surged through him, hot and wild like his Brooke. She had a spirit that couldn’t be broken. Isn’t that what he’d admired about her from the beginning?

One painful step at a time, the two women disappeared behind him. He stared at the sweat and tears staining the floor where Brooke had lain.
She needs water.
Give her fluids before she becomes dehydrated
. He screamed the thought, praying Mistress could read his mind, but he had his doubts as to whether she would listen to him at this point. The woman had her own agenda, and, in his stupidity, he’d given her free rein.

When she commanded Brooke to drink, he thanked God the woman at least knew her stuff enough to read her sub’s needs and that she was humane enough to provide for them. She was a monster but one with a heart.

The thought was somewhat comforting until she issued her next command.
What. The. Fuck?
The woman knew how to push his buttons. Anal play was way past his hard limits, but that hadn’t stopped her before. After the last time, he was sure the woman had received enough fun at the expense of his ass.

You’re an asshole, Stevens
.

He sensed Brooke’s hesitation only to have it confirmed by a threat of more lashes with the whip if she didn’t comply.

Then came Mistress’s command to wiggle his ass, to invite something that went against everything he was. Mistress Lola’s words came back to him. “
Her strength comes from you. Your submission only magnifies the love you have for her.”

He wiggled his ass, bent his knees so Brooke wouldn’t have to stretch to reach him.
God, help me.

It took more threats, but then Brooke did it. The touch of her tongue on his ass might as well have been a hot poker for the way it singed his insides. He shook, absorbing the unexpected pleasure.

He recognized her hesitance and pushed into her moist caress. She grew bolder, much to his pride and humiliation. He liked it more than he would ever say. Seems there was nothing he wouldn’t find pleasurable if it was with Brooke.

When she hesitated again, Mistress Lola intervened, playing each of them off the other’s weaknesses. His failure to understand submission—her shame at disappointing her Master. They were all his weaknesses. She’d only disappointed him because, in his stupidity, he’d put her in an impossible situation. All the failures in their relationship were his.

“If you quit now, he’ll have no choice but to set you free.”

Don’t quit, Brooke. Please, please, don’t quit. I don’t think I can live without you.

Brooke’s hands stroked his ass cheeks—a caress he felt all the way to his heart as she contemplated her options
. “Only Brooke can stop this, and if she hasn’t by now, she isn’t going to. That’s how much she loves you, Todd. She’ll do anything for you, even let a stranger tear her apart, literally and figuratively.”

She was tearing Brooke apart.

“Show her how much you love her, and she’ll find what’s she’s looking for.”

It took every bit of courage he could muster to let his muscles relax, but as soon as she spread him again, he knew he’d done the right thing. He could feel her gaze centered on his most guarded gate.

Kiss me, Brooke. Please, babe. Kiss me. I’m yours. Everything I am is yours.

“Kiss him, slave. Show him how strong his love makes you.”

Her tongue flicked over the tight bud once, twice. Then she pushed past the barrier, her lips closing around the puckered opening in a kiss so erotic, so carnal, so loving, her tongue stroked his heart.

He’d been hard since the first touch of her tongue. As she loved him, he grew perilously close to the edge. If she didn’t stop soon, he would come, and God, he didn’t want to come that way. He never wanted to come again unless he was inside Brooke. He ached to sink his cock in her heated strength, to lose himself in her love for him.

Stop, babe. Please stop.

An angel heard his prayer. He let out a strangled growl as frustration mixed with relief sent blood rushing back to his brain. Then Mistress Lola was there, stroking his brow again, offering solace that would never be sufficient. There was only one thing that would quiet the turmoil inside him. Brooke.

“Shh,” the woman said. “You’ll have her soon, sub. I promise.”

Todd struggled against his restraints.

“Save your strength, Sir.” She pointed at the floor. Todd looked down into the most serene face he’d ever seen. “Yes, she looks happy, doesn’t she?”

How? What happened to her in the last few minutes? Lord, if kissing my ass makes her that happy, she can do it every day. Twice.

“Tell him how much you love him.”

Brooke looked at him, her eyes luminous. He’d seen that look before. She was high from the pain and the scene. “I love you, Master. More than anything.”

I love you, too, Brooke. More than my own life.

“Tell your Master what you will do for him, slave.”

“Anything, Master. Serving you is the greatest pleasure of my life.”

She meant it. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice.
I’ll do anything for you, too.

“Come, slave.”

Brooke followed Mistress Lola to a padded table across the sparsely furnished room. After raising the back to a sitting position, she told Brooke to stand. “Undress me.”

Oh, God.
His heart slammed into his throat as Brooke worked the lacings on the other woman’s corset free. His slave was lovely, and if he was honest, the stripes still bright on her back made her even more beautiful because he knew the kind of strength it took to endure something so brutal. That she had, and came out on the other side looking happy, euphoric, amazed him.

Stripped bare, Mistress Lola raised the stirrups on the end of the table. She settled herself on the edge then lifted her feet to the perches, exposing her pussy. Her pink petals glistened with arousal—arousal won at the expense of himself and Brooke. A flash of anger shot through him. With the whip still wrapped around his slave’s neck, the madam led Brooke to stand between her legs.

No! Oh, God, no!

Sex with women was a hard limit for Brooke. He’d attempted to convince her on numerous occasions to do it for him, but she’d always refused. As she stepped between Mistress Lola’s splayed thighs and lowered her head, he knew she’d truly turned a corner tonight.

He balled his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms in an effort to stave off the climax thwarted earlier. The need was back, raging with the force of tectonic plates shifting.

He closed his eyes, shutting out the erotic scene.
Think of something else. Anything.
Alaska. Alabama. Arizona. No. Alabama. Alaska. Arizona.
Naming the states in alphabetical order helped, but he could still hear the sounds coming from the other side of the room. Moans of pleasure, slurping, and, God help him, those little sounds like a sucker popping past puckered lips. He knew what those meant. He didn’t need sight in order to imagine Brooke’s luscious lips clamped around a clit, her smooth cheeks hollowed out as she applied suction to the tender nub.

Mmmm, mmmmm.
The vibration of his humming wasn’t much, but it dulled the incoming sounds just enough.

This was his punishment for not calling Mistress Lola when he arrived home. He hadn’t touched Brooke in weeks, hadn’t allowed her to touch him the night before even though she’d offered to ease his suffering. He was paying for both decisions now.

He ached. Every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to launch him into the fiercest orgasm he’d ever experienced. He’d be damned if he experienced it alone. He was damned well going to be inside Brooke when he went off—even if he couldn’t last past the first thrust.

Resolved, he tamped down his need, banked it
. Colorado. No. Not right. California. That’s it. California. Colorado. Connecticut.

No amount of humming, no amount of geography lessons could drown out Mistress Lola’s orgasm. The woman raised the rafters with her scream. No one was more grateful than he that it was over. Opening his eyes, he caught sight of Brooke placing soft kisses along the inside of Mistress Lola’s thigh. His slave stroked the other woman’s body, then one hand dipped low to cover the pussy she’d just pleasured. The gesture was both tender and loving. Brooke’s eyes were hooded, but her lips told the story. Pride. He’d seen that same smile when she gazed at one of her elaborate baked creations.

He’d never been jealous of a cake, but if the sick feeling in his stomach was any indication, the green monster was alive and well.