Spring Training (11 page)

“How’s your girl doing?” Mistress Lola strode in, wearing snug-fitting black jeans and a white button-down shirt. She’d let her hair down from the severe ponytail she’d scened with. Her long, dark hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, nearly to the small of her back. She’d removed the dramatic makeup in favor of barely-there cosmetics, making her appear younger. It was a look he’d seen before, but Brooke sat up so fast, she winced.

“Holy shit! You’re beautiful.” She turned a scowling face at him.

Smiling at her jealous outburst, he held up a staying hand. “Hold on there, pet. She’s nothing compared to you.” He wrapped a sticky hand around the back of her head, slipping her ponytail between his fingers to hold her steady for a kiss that was all about possession. Reluctantly drawing back, he looked into her eyes. “There’s only you, Brooke. Always and forever.”

Her gaze held his while he willed her to trust his words. “I know,” she said, releasing him from the prison of her hesitation. “But she is gorgeous, Sir. Only a eunuch wouldn’t notice.”

He shrugged. “I’m no eunuch. I noticed, but I can control my urges—” He brought her face near, brushing his lips over hers. “—except where you’re concerned. I have no discipline when it comes to you.”

They sat that way, nose-to-nose, until Mistress Lola cleared her throat. “Okay, enough.”

He let Brooke go. She grimaced as she sat back on her tush.

“Babe,” he said, reaching for her.

“I’m fine, Sir.” She shifted again. “The pain isn’t unbearable, and it reminds me. I like it.” The last words were nothing more than a whisper.

“Here.” The woman who’d put the marks on Brooke’s body came forward, holding out a blanket. “Wrap this around your shoulders.”

Todd helped her cover herself, only then realizing he was still naked. He’d been too concerned about Brooke to even notice.

“I’ll stay with your slave. Why don’t you shower and dress?”

“Brooke?” He lifted an eyebrow in question.

“I’ll be fine, Sir.” She waved him away. “Hurry back.”

He hated leaving her, but he had no choice. He’d be gone a few minutes at best. With a promise to return as quickly as possible, he left his most precious possession in the hands of the woman who’d beaten her not two hours before.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Let me see your back.” Brooke didn’t even consider disobeying although the command was issued in a caring manner. “I just want to make sure your Master was thorough.”

“He was thorough, Mistress.” She giggled, remembering his hands on her and his cock inside her. “He always is.”

“I’m not talking about that, slave.” Her touch was gentle as she tested the abraded skin. “Though it did appear his examination of your pussy was complete.”

She felt her skin heat, remembering they’d had an audience. “He explored every inch, Mistress.”

“Did he cleanse you?” She parted the folds of the blanket, her fingers finding Brooke’s pussy, wet and exposed by her cross-legged position.

“No, ma’am.”

“Would you like me to do it?”

Brooke’s breath caught in her lungs. She looked up into Mistress Lola’s eyes. The lust she saw there was foreign to her. The woman’s fingers slicked through the layers of her sex, finding her opening. Her touch was nothing more than a flutter compared to Master Todd’s explorations.

“You tasted me. I’d like to taste you.”

An entire hive of bees buzzed around in her head. She couldn’t think past the gentle fingers working her pussy to a soaking frenzy. “Master Todd.” No sooner had the name passed her lips than the exquisite touch was gone. “I belong to him.”

“Wise of you to remember, girl. I won’t do it unless he approves.” Her gaze heated Brooke’s skin. “Would you like me to offer?”

“You would ask him to…to…?”

“To eat your pussy? Yes. If you want me to.”

A chill racked her body. She’d never…. But she’d gone down on the woman earlier, enjoyed it…. Because she knew how much her Master would like it. He’d suggested setting up a scene for her several times, and she’d always said no. But that was before. Now she understood there was nothing she couldn’t or wouldn’t do for Todd. She trusted him to guide her, to help her explore her sexuality within safe parameters.

Mistress Lola put her fingers beneath Brooke’s nose. “Smell yourself on me. Your honey is a mixture of both of you. Let me cleanse you, slave.”

Brooke turned her head away, but not before she inhaled the spicy scent she knew so well. “You know I have no choice if my Master demands it.”

“Yes, I know. But I’m asking you first. I think you want to feel my tongue on you. I think you want to feel my lips and teeth feasting on your pussy. Tell me if I’m mistaken. I won’t take offense. You can trust me, Brooke. I would never betray you.”

She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Then my answer is no.”

As the words tumbled from her lips, her pussy clenched at the lie. Dropping her chin, she prayed the woman would honor her vow and remain quiet. If Todd knew how turned on she was by the proposition…. She didn’t want to go there. He was her life. She’d never do anything to upset him, and knowing how much she desired another’s touch would destroy him.

“I brought your clothes.” Her Master rejoined them, looking for all the world as if he had just stepped off the pages of a
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advertisement. Dressed in loose chinos and a polo shirt, no one would ever guess what the man had just been through.

“Thanks,” she said, moving to dangle her feet off the edge of the mattress.

“I’ve got some yoga pants you can borrow,” Mistress Lola said. “You’ll need something to cover your legs until you get home.”

Brooke nodded her agreement, and the other woman went off in search of the garment. “If I’d known….”

“You couldn’t have known.” Todd handed her the Mustangs T-shirt she’d worn with her shorts earlier and held up her lacy bra. “I don’t think you should try wearing this.”

“No. No bra for a while. I’m sure you won’t mind, will you?” She pulled the soft fabric over her head.

“Not at all, babe. If I had my way, you’d be naked all the time.”

Mistress Lola returned with the pants and knelt to help Brooke slide them over her feet. She waved the other woman away, then rose to pull them over her hips herself.

“She’ll need a bath when you get her home.” She handed Todd a plastic grocery bag. “More salve. Enough to last the week. Put more on after her bath, then again in the morning. Twice a day. Call me if she isn’t better mid-week. Otherwise, I’ll see you on Friday.”

Todd took the bag as Brooke slid her feet into her flip-flops. “Friday,” he confirmed.

Brooke’s gaze cut to the woman who had so effectively dominated both her and her Master. Her pussy ached for everything she had promised. Guilt was a lead weight tied around her heart.

“What do you say, slave?”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome, Brooke. My card is in the bag. If you need to talk, call me. I’m available to both of you twenty-four/seven.”

She wouldn’t call. Once she was away from the woman and the temptation she represented, her unwanted desire would fade. Her Master would never know she lusted for another.

“We appreciate it, Mistress.”

With Todd’s arm wrapped lightly around Brooke’s back ready to catch her if she began to fall, she took mincing steps toward the door.

***

“Is Carrie still in town?” Todd asked, catching up to Jason Holder as he left the Mustangs’ training facility a few days later.

“Yeah. I think she’s leaving next week sometime. Why?”

“I was wondering if you would like to bring her to dinner at my place tomorrow night after our game.”

Jason halted, turning an assessing gaze on Todd. “I can do that. Not that I don’t find you and your…?”

Todd glanced around, making sure they were alone. “Slave. She’s my slave.”

“Not that I don’t find you and your slave good company, but what’s this about, Todd?”

The man’s perception reminded Todd why he hated catchers. Observation was one of their primary skills. Jason was better than most at it, which accounted for his ranking as one of the best catchers ever to play the game.

Todd rested his hands on his hips, his gaze on the gravel parking lot. “I don’t know. I told you about leaving her with Frank, and you know how that turned out. Well, there’s more. I don’t want to get into it out here. Can you just come to dinner and not ask any more questions until then?”

“What time?”

“I don’t know. After the game? Brooke won’t be coming to the stadium.” The marks on her legs were still too prominent to wear shorts, and it was too damned hot to wear anything else. “I’ll have her start dinner so we can eat early.”

“Sounds good. Until tomorrow.”

Todd continued to his car, breathing easier now that he’d taken action. Since their scene with Mistress Lola, his slave had been exemplary in every way. That shouldn’t have been a problem, but it was. And for some reason, Brooke’s recent behavior seemed more of a problem to him than the one that had set them on this course of training in the first place.

Brooke wasn’t being herself. He hoped she would open up to Carrie, who was also a sub, though not a slave. The two women had been friends before they met their Masters, so if Brooke was going to talk to anyone, it would be Jason’s sub.

If that didn’t work, he’d have no choice but to consult with Mistress Lola, but something told him that wasn’t a good idea. He couldn’t put his finger on it. The other night, when he’d returned from his shower, the tension in the aftercare room had been thicker than the humidity on a summer day in Dallas. Brooke’s smile had dimmed from a brilliant afterglow to a wary flicker.

The marks on her body were fading, but it was as if her spirit grew fainter in tandem. It made no sense. He’d been careful with her, applying the salve Mistress Lola sent as instructed. Because of Brooke’s condition, he’d been gentle with her when he made love to her. At first, he hadn’t wanted to use her body at all, afraid to cause her more pain, but she assured him she was fine. He’d always loved marking her, but he’d never done so in such a thorough manner. He still got hard thinking about that night and how brave his slave had been.

But the bloom was off the rose, so to speak, and he needed to know why. He could beat the information out of her, but with fresh stripes still covering her, he wasn’t inclined to go that route. Bringing Carrie in was a safer, saner option. With a little luck, the move wouldn’t appear the desperate attempt to reach her that it was.

If his plan didn’t work, he had no idea what to do next. His performance on the field was suffering. Too many late nights. Too much stress. Coming to training camp with muscles so tight from extreme scenes the night before, he could hardly move, much less play baseball. He lived on over-the-counter pain meds, caffeine, and hot showers.

He needed to get his personal life back in order, or his head would be on the chopping block, No-Trade clause or not.  If a team didn’t want you, there were ways around the legal issues. Hell, if he didn’t get his shit together, he’d bench himself. The rest of the team didn’t deserve to have an old fart like him screwing up their chances at a winning season.

***

“The skirt is fine,” he assured Brooke the following evening. “The marks on the back of your legs are barely there. Besides, there’s no need to hide our relationship from Jason and Carrie.”

“I know. It’s just….” She twisted to see the marks in question in the full-length mirror. She rubbed her hand over the trim fit of her skirt. “These are so personal. More than any others I’ve ever had.”

Leaning against the bedroom doorjamb, his arms crossed to keep from hauling her up against him, he admired the stripes hardly noticeable now. The ones across her back and ass were darker, but they’d faded considerably over the last few days. He didn’t know if it was because of the natural healing properties of her skin or if the salve he’d been applying twice a day hastened the process. Either way, he had a sudden urge to see them all, to show their friends how brave she really was. How special she was.

“Take it off.”

She whipped around, her gaze locking with his. “What?”

“The skirt. The blouse. All of it.”

“Sir. You don’t mean it.” Her arms were crossed over her body, her hands splayed across her chest as if she were afraid he might rip her clothes off himself.

“Yes, I do. Jason has made you come. He’s had his dick in your mouth. He won’t be shocked that my slave is serving dinner in the nude.”

Her bottom lip trembled, but her fingers found the top button on her blouse. “As you wish, Master.” She dispensed with the garments quickly then stood before him, head down, legs splayed, hands behind her back. An offer of her submission he never wanted to take for granted.

“Thank you. I want you to enjoy yourself this evening. You are my slave, but tonight we’re entertaining friends as a couple, too. Feel free to converse as you would at any other dinner party. Other than to show you off in this way—” He waved his hand to indicate her lovely, nude body. “—I won’t be using you sexually until our guests have gone.”

He studied her for a moment. She hadn’t moved a muscle since assuming her pose. “Carrie is your friend.”

“Yes, Master.”

“If you would like to speak with her alone, you have my permission. Jason assures me she would not betray a confidence outside our friendship.” Which meant Carrie would tell him what they’d talked about, but no one else. He had Jason’s word on it. After what the Mustangs’ catcher had been through—being publicly accused of using and selling performance enhancing drugs by none other than Carrie—Todd knew the man’s assurances were solid. Once Carrie had seen her mistake, her firm belief in her Dom’s innocence saved his career and their relationship.

“Thank you, Sir. I miss the lunches we used to have together.”

“There’s no reason you can’t continue them.”

She nodded, but the spark he loved so much in her seemed to have died out since she removed her clothes. “Are you ashamed of the way your body looks tonight?”

“No, Sir.” Her answer was swift and certain, which gave him confidence some flicker of life still remained.

“Are you concerned about appearing this way in front of our friends?”

“No, Sir.” This time she sounded less certain.

He wanted to explore her response further, but the doorbell rang. He checked his watch.
Jason.
“I’m glad to hear that because I couldn’t be more proud of the way you look. Every time I see the marks on your body, I’m reminded of how strong and beautiful you are on the inside and on the outside. I’m proud of you, Brooke. There are few people in this world I can show you off to.” Her shoulders rose a bit at his praise. “Go greet our guests, slave.”

“Yes, Master.”

Damn, he loved to watch her ass move. She crossed the small living area with a confident stride, her shoulders squared, her straight blonde locks revealing the marks on her back with each swaying movement. He’d been hard since she popped the first button on her blouse, and his view now didn’t help matters one bit. Maybe having her nude this evening wasn’t such a good idea after all.

He smirked, seeing the surprised expression on Jason and Carrie’s faces when Brooke opened the door.