Make Me, Sir
Page 2
They murmured, “No, Sir” and “We won’t, Master Marcus.” He nodded and stepped back to let Olivia take his place.
The hefty domme smiled at the trainees. “First, let me run through my rules.” She slapped a switch against her tight latex pants, and the movement drew every gaze.
Chuckling, Marcus stepped into the main club room and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting from the chandeliers and wall sconces. This early, no one played on the equipment against the walls; no murmur of conversation came from the sitting areas. The lingering scent of cleansers mingled with the fragrance of leather.
Within an hour, the Shadowlands would rumble to life. Odd how much he’d come to love this club.
He looked around and spotted Z. Dressed in his usual black silk shirt and tailored slacks, the owner of the Shadowlands sat at the circular bar in the center of the room, talking to the bartender and his submissive.
As Marcus walked over, Cullen grinned. “Hey, buddy, I met your new trainee. Great hair.” The bartender’s voice echoed in the huge, silent room.
“What new trainee?” Marcus gave Z a quizzical glance.
Z frowned. “I’d hoped you’d arrive earlier, Marcus. I certainly didn’t intend to spring this on you.”
“The trial ran late.” And had been satisfying as hell. By the time he finished his closing argument, the jury had been of one mind, and the bastard who’d preyed on young boys hadn’t had a chance. Guilty. The sense of satisfaction in knowing he’d taken one more monster off the streets made all the late nights worthwhile. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry about the lack of discussion, but I have another trainee for you.” Z nodded toward the back. “I told her to wait for you by the chain station.”
Marcus stared at him. They always talked over any addition to the trainee program. And now a new one, just like that?
Z took a sip of his drink. “I appreciate you taking Gabrielle on, Marcus. She’s rather misbehaved, and she’s going to need a firm hand. Please keep her for a month—say the end of August—before you give up on her.”
Anger started a sullen glow in his gut. Z hadn’t asked a favor; he’d given an order. What kind of bullshit is this? From the set of Z’s jaw, there would be no discussion about refusing this trainee. Marcus could either take on the submissive or step aside as trainer.
But he liked supervising the trainees, helping them broaden their education as submissives, helping them find a dom to match their needs. And the volunteer position filled his need to give back to the community. He tapped his fingers on the bar and considered his options. Perhaps he should meet the new trainee before burning his bridges behind him. As he’d slowly come to know the other Masters, he realized he’d never found a club that suited him so well.
“I’ll work with her.” For now. Then he gave Z a steady look and drew his line in the sand. “You are the owner, sir, but they’re my trainees. I would be most grateful if you could remember that.” Don’t do it again.
Gray eyes level, Z tilted his head in acknowledgement and slid the trainee’s paperwork down the bar top.
With a grin, the bartender set a drink on the bar. “You know, Marcus, you say fuck you almost as politely as the boss.”
Marcus huffed a laugh. No one stayed riled up around Cullen very long. He scanned the papers, giving Cullen the high points. A short summary would go on the bulletin board for the other Shadowlands Masters since they all participated in sub training. “No medical disease or problems. No phobias she’s willing to admit to. She doesn’t want any serious pain, piercing, scarring. Bondage and sex are okayed.” Fairly normal for a trainee’s choices. “Would you please give me a set of trainee cuffs and ribbons?”
The bartender rummaged in the shelves below the bar top, then handed over a pair of gold-colored leather wrist cuffs and a box of colored ribbons.
Marcus added the appropriate ribbons to the cuffs, the colors indicating what the trainee would permit: yellow for mild pain, blue for bondage, green for sex. No red ribbons for severe pain. “Many of the choices have question marks. The information about her past experience is sketchy.” He glanced at Z, hoping for an explanation.
“I don’t know much. I’m simply doing someone a favor.” Z gave Cullen a faint smile. “Does that sound familiar?”
“It does.” Cullen’s laugh boomed out as he glanced at his submissive, a tall, golden-haired sub tough enough to handle the giant dom. He waggled his eyebrows. “Sometimes it’s even worth the effort.”
Andrea wrinkled her nose at her dom and said, “Thanks, Señor.”
Marcus remembered that Cullen had taken her on as a favor when he had charge of the trainees. Well, maybe this new trainee would prove as delightful. “Did Gabrielle herself request that you let her into the program?”
“She wanted in, but a friend—Galen—did the asking for her. He hopes that as a trainee she can find what she needs. He says she’s quite badly behaved, and he recommends you not go easy on her.” Z frowned. “She might prove a challenge even for you, Marcus.”
A difficult submissive. Wonderful. “I’ll do what I can. In fact, I’d best go make her acquaintance and get started.” He clipped the cuffs to the back of his belt, nodded to the two men, and smiled at Andrea, remembering what a run she’d given Cullen before he’d reeled her in. Way too much work. Maybe Z was wrong, and this new trainee would be quiet and sweet and obedient.
She wasn’t by the chain station.
Marcus frowned and looked around, finally spotting her in the hallway for the theme rooms, staring in at the medical room setup. She appeared mesmerized by the gyn table, enema bags, and shelves filled with speculums, dilators, and other fun toys. After walking over silently, he leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms, taking the time to study her.
Not ugly, but not particularly beautiful either, at least from what he could see. Medium height, nicely padded. A long blue skirt hid her ass and legs. He approved of the black bustier, which pushed up a fine set of breasts. Her shaggy-styled hair barely reached her shoulders. She was a redhead like Nolan’s sub, but more of a strawberry blonde, and her coloring was so pale that she almost glowed. Not a freckle in sight. A light sunburn had pinkened her shoulders and breasts, and he smiled. How far down did the burn go?
His gaze dropped. Submissives went barefoot in the club, and she had pretty feet, but she’d painted her toenails a vibrant blue. Blue?
“Did you get yourself lost?” he asked.
She jumped and spun so quickly her skirt wrapped around her legs. Apparently she’d dyed one fluffy lock of hair on the left to match her toenails. A long scar, a shade lighter than her skin, ran from her left cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. Despite the whiteness indicating it was an old injury, the sight bothered him on a visceral level, that a sub coming into his care had been hurt.
“Oh, hey. Hi.” She shook out her skirt and grinned at him. “I’m just poking around. New place and all that.”
“I see.” Interesting face, he thought. Not a model’s face with jutting cheekbones and sharp chin, hers was all soft curves. Not beautiful, but…friendly. When she smiled, dimples flashed in her cheeks.
But what was she doing by the theme rooms? He asked gently, “Were you instructed to wait here?”
“Ah.” The grin disappeared, and a wary expression shaded her wide brown eyes. “Master Z said the trainer would come back to fetch me.”
“And did he say, „Wait here," or did he give you permission to wander around?”
When she blushed, her ivory complexion turned a delightful pink. If nothing else, he could look forward to enjoying that.
“He said, „Wait here."” She waved her hand toward the chain station. “Guess I shouldn’t have moved, huh?”
Had she no idea of how to address a dom? How to obey? “I do believe that might have been a mistake.” And so might this trainee Z had dumped on him.
Chapter Two
The model-gorgeous guy in the suit didn’t like her. Gabrielle saw that already, but no real problem. The only one she had to impress was Master Marcus, and hopefully the suit wouldn’t tell on her. The man positively oozed rich and powerful, so he must be a big shot in the club. “I guess I’d better get back there before my boss arrives.”
“Who?”
“Master Marcus. I’m waiting for him.”
“You most certainly possess a poor idea of how to wait.” He stared at her for another minute, disapproval radiating from him. “I have a notion that introductions are in order before you work your way further into trouble. I am Master Marcus.”
She choked. Oh, no. This day is so not going well. “Ah.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Nice to meet you. Um—”
“And might I ask your name?” he asked politely. Too politely.
She took a second look at him, at his fancy tailored suit. Dark gray with pinstripes. Oh please, like she’d really believe he was a dom at all? “Gabrielle Anderson. Are you sure you’re Master Marcus?”
He cocked his head. The guy was way too good-looking. Tall, broad-shouldered, lean. His hair, a rich brown shading to gold on the ends, was flawlessly styled. Definitely a perfect person like her parents. Gag. Even his tan wasn’t leathery, but just dark enough to set off incredibly blue eyes. Very sharp blue eyes, in fact, and turning colder by the second.
The hefty domme smiled at the trainees. “First, let me run through my rules.” She slapped a switch against her tight latex pants, and the movement drew every gaze.
Chuckling, Marcus stepped into the main club room and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting from the chandeliers and wall sconces. This early, no one played on the equipment against the walls; no murmur of conversation came from the sitting areas. The lingering scent of cleansers mingled with the fragrance of leather.
Within an hour, the Shadowlands would rumble to life. Odd how much he’d come to love this club.
He looked around and spotted Z. Dressed in his usual black silk shirt and tailored slacks, the owner of the Shadowlands sat at the circular bar in the center of the room, talking to the bartender and his submissive.
As Marcus walked over, Cullen grinned. “Hey, buddy, I met your new trainee. Great hair.” The bartender’s voice echoed in the huge, silent room.
“What new trainee?” Marcus gave Z a quizzical glance.
Z frowned. “I’d hoped you’d arrive earlier, Marcus. I certainly didn’t intend to spring this on you.”
“The trial ran late.” And had been satisfying as hell. By the time he finished his closing argument, the jury had been of one mind, and the bastard who’d preyed on young boys hadn’t had a chance. Guilty. The sense of satisfaction in knowing he’d taken one more monster off the streets made all the late nights worthwhile. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry about the lack of discussion, but I have another trainee for you.” Z nodded toward the back. “I told her to wait for you by the chain station.”
Marcus stared at him. They always talked over any addition to the trainee program. And now a new one, just like that?
Z took a sip of his drink. “I appreciate you taking Gabrielle on, Marcus. She’s rather misbehaved, and she’s going to need a firm hand. Please keep her for a month—say the end of August—before you give up on her.”
Anger started a sullen glow in his gut. Z hadn’t asked a favor; he’d given an order. What kind of bullshit is this? From the set of Z’s jaw, there would be no discussion about refusing this trainee. Marcus could either take on the submissive or step aside as trainer.
But he liked supervising the trainees, helping them broaden their education as submissives, helping them find a dom to match their needs. And the volunteer position filled his need to give back to the community. He tapped his fingers on the bar and considered his options. Perhaps he should meet the new trainee before burning his bridges behind him. As he’d slowly come to know the other Masters, he realized he’d never found a club that suited him so well.
“I’ll work with her.” For now. Then he gave Z a steady look and drew his line in the sand. “You are the owner, sir, but they’re my trainees. I would be most grateful if you could remember that.” Don’t do it again.
Gray eyes level, Z tilted his head in acknowledgement and slid the trainee’s paperwork down the bar top.
With a grin, the bartender set a drink on the bar. “You know, Marcus, you say fuck you almost as politely as the boss.”
Marcus huffed a laugh. No one stayed riled up around Cullen very long. He scanned the papers, giving Cullen the high points. A short summary would go on the bulletin board for the other Shadowlands Masters since they all participated in sub training. “No medical disease or problems. No phobias she’s willing to admit to. She doesn’t want any serious pain, piercing, scarring. Bondage and sex are okayed.” Fairly normal for a trainee’s choices. “Would you please give me a set of trainee cuffs and ribbons?”
The bartender rummaged in the shelves below the bar top, then handed over a pair of gold-colored leather wrist cuffs and a box of colored ribbons.
Marcus added the appropriate ribbons to the cuffs, the colors indicating what the trainee would permit: yellow for mild pain, blue for bondage, green for sex. No red ribbons for severe pain. “Many of the choices have question marks. The information about her past experience is sketchy.” He glanced at Z, hoping for an explanation.
“I don’t know much. I’m simply doing someone a favor.” Z gave Cullen a faint smile. “Does that sound familiar?”
“It does.” Cullen’s laugh boomed out as he glanced at his submissive, a tall, golden-haired sub tough enough to handle the giant dom. He waggled his eyebrows. “Sometimes it’s even worth the effort.”
Andrea wrinkled her nose at her dom and said, “Thanks, Señor.”
Marcus remembered that Cullen had taken her on as a favor when he had charge of the trainees. Well, maybe this new trainee would prove as delightful. “Did Gabrielle herself request that you let her into the program?”
“She wanted in, but a friend—Galen—did the asking for her. He hopes that as a trainee she can find what she needs. He says she’s quite badly behaved, and he recommends you not go easy on her.” Z frowned. “She might prove a challenge even for you, Marcus.”
A difficult submissive. Wonderful. “I’ll do what I can. In fact, I’d best go make her acquaintance and get started.” He clipped the cuffs to the back of his belt, nodded to the two men, and smiled at Andrea, remembering what a run she’d given Cullen before he’d reeled her in. Way too much work. Maybe Z was wrong, and this new trainee would be quiet and sweet and obedient.
She wasn’t by the chain station.
Marcus frowned and looked around, finally spotting her in the hallway for the theme rooms, staring in at the medical room setup. She appeared mesmerized by the gyn table, enema bags, and shelves filled with speculums, dilators, and other fun toys. After walking over silently, he leaned a shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms, taking the time to study her.
Not ugly, but not particularly beautiful either, at least from what he could see. Medium height, nicely padded. A long blue skirt hid her ass and legs. He approved of the black bustier, which pushed up a fine set of breasts. Her shaggy-styled hair barely reached her shoulders. She was a redhead like Nolan’s sub, but more of a strawberry blonde, and her coloring was so pale that she almost glowed. Not a freckle in sight. A light sunburn had pinkened her shoulders and breasts, and he smiled. How far down did the burn go?
His gaze dropped. Submissives went barefoot in the club, and she had pretty feet, but she’d painted her toenails a vibrant blue. Blue?
“Did you get yourself lost?” he asked.
She jumped and spun so quickly her skirt wrapped around her legs. Apparently she’d dyed one fluffy lock of hair on the left to match her toenails. A long scar, a shade lighter than her skin, ran from her left cheekbone to the corner of her mouth. Despite the whiteness indicating it was an old injury, the sight bothered him on a visceral level, that a sub coming into his care had been hurt.
“Oh, hey. Hi.” She shook out her skirt and grinned at him. “I’m just poking around. New place and all that.”
“I see.” Interesting face, he thought. Not a model’s face with jutting cheekbones and sharp chin, hers was all soft curves. Not beautiful, but…friendly. When she smiled, dimples flashed in her cheeks.
But what was she doing by the theme rooms? He asked gently, “Were you instructed to wait here?”
“Ah.” The grin disappeared, and a wary expression shaded her wide brown eyes. “Master Z said the trainer would come back to fetch me.”
“And did he say, „Wait here," or did he give you permission to wander around?”
When she blushed, her ivory complexion turned a delightful pink. If nothing else, he could look forward to enjoying that.
“He said, „Wait here."” She waved her hand toward the chain station. “Guess I shouldn’t have moved, huh?”
Had she no idea of how to address a dom? How to obey? “I do believe that might have been a mistake.” And so might this trainee Z had dumped on him.
Chapter Two
The model-gorgeous guy in the suit didn’t like her. Gabrielle saw that already, but no real problem. The only one she had to impress was Master Marcus, and hopefully the suit wouldn’t tell on her. The man positively oozed rich and powerful, so he must be a big shot in the club. “I guess I’d better get back there before my boss arrives.”
“Who?”
“Master Marcus. I’m waiting for him.”
“You most certainly possess a poor idea of how to wait.” He stared at her for another minute, disapproval radiating from him. “I have a notion that introductions are in order before you work your way further into trouble. I am Master Marcus.”
She choked. Oh, no. This day is so not going well. “Ah.” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Nice to meet you. Um—”
“And might I ask your name?” he asked politely. Too politely.
She took a second look at him, at his fancy tailored suit. Dark gray with pinstripes. Oh please, like she’d really believe he was a dom at all? “Gabrielle Anderson. Are you sure you’re Master Marcus?”
He cocked his head. The guy was way too good-looking. Tall, broad-shouldered, lean. His hair, a rich brown shading to gold on the ends, was flawlessly styled. Definitely a perfect person like her parents. Gag. Even his tan wasn’t leathery, but just dark enough to set off incredibly blue eyes. Very sharp blue eyes, in fact, and turning colder by the second.
