Spring Training (8 page)

“I’m sorry, Sir. It was more than thinking you were with someone else. I felt overwhelmed. I missed you so much. I know I’m a disappointment to you.”

“You could never disappoint me, Brooke. Test my patience? Yes. Make me crazy with need? Every damned day. Twist me up in knots? All the time. But I couldn’t be more proud of you. Especially after what I’ve endured the last two weeks. However, you defied my orders without so much as requesting a discussion.”

Emotion clogged her throat, so she nodded to indicate she understood. What she’d done could not go unpunished.

“Mistress Lola wants to meet you.”

Regardless of whether it meant another punishment or not, she lifted her gaze to his. “Why?” At his raised eyebrow, she dropped her gaze. “Sir.”

“I suppose she would like to see what manner of submissive drives a Dom to his knees for her. She’s also offered to carry out your punishment for me. She seems to think I may be too close to the situation, that perhaps my judgment might not be as clear as it should be regarding your actions.”

“Permission to speak, Sir?”

“Go ahead. Consider it granted until I send you to bed. I’m trying to understand your behavior these last few days. I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I appreciate that you are making an effort to understand why I did what I did.” She looked down at her clasped hands. “I don’t believe you would ever go too far in punishing me.”

“Perhaps she believes I’ll be too lenient.”

Her heart raced. “I hadn’t thought of that. I mean…I assumed…. You’re furious with me, Sir.”

“You assumed my punishment would be harsh?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re correct, but maybe not in the way you expect. I’m not sure what she has in mind, but I doubt it’s conventional.”

“Will you let her punish me?”

“I don’t know, pet.” His use of the endearment eased some of her lingering misgivings. He was thinking fondly of her again. That had to be good. “Maybe. I think we both could learn from her, so I just might allow it.”

“I’ll accept whatever you decide, Sir. I understand once the punishment is administered, the offense is forgotten, so would you let me apologize to you tonight? Let me show you how much I love you.”

CHAPTER TEN

Todd took his place on the infield. Past seasons, he anticipated the first pre-season game with as much enthusiasm as he had his first season in the Major League, but this year was different. Baseball was his job, but, more than that, he loved the game. It was a part of him like nothing else had ever been. Until Brooke.

Fielding the traditional warm-up throws by rote, his mind wasn’t on the game about to begin. It was back at his condo, in bed with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She wanted to be his in a way he was trying to understand, but if he was honest with himself, he was failing miserably.

Since he first discovered the wonders of sex, he knew he was a Dominant. While most of his adolescent friends had been ecstatic to simply fuck a girl, he’d craved more. It wasn’t until he met Frank Williams his first year in the Minors that he found the fulfillment he’d been looking for. The Mustangs’ former third base coach had introduced him to the BDSM lifestyle. For the first time in his adult life, he had found complete sexual satisfaction, being a Dom. As some people preferred cherry preserves on their toast, he preferred a cherry-red ass to a plain one. The need to dominate sexually, the desire to explore a woman’s needs through measured pain and what he called mind-fucks was something he no longer questioned. Being part of the lifestyle showed him his sexual inclinations weren’t abnormal.

He’d come a long way in the last few weeks toward comprehending the psyche of a submissive, but he wasn’t any closer to a mind-meld with voluntary slavery than he was in the beginning. He recognized the competitor in him—not wanting to admit defeat. Perhaps he was fighting a losing battle within himself, but the consequences of losing this particular skirmish were too high.

Brooke needed him to provide for her. As her Dom, her Master, he had made a commitment to give her what she needed. If he couldn’t, he had no other choice than to cut her loose so she could find a man who
could
meet her needs.

“Wake up, man!”

Todd jerked his gaze around in time to get his glove in front of his face before the thrown ball rearranged his jaw. He took a second to shift his focus where it needed to be—on the field—then threw the ball to first base.

“Thanks.” He smiled at left fielder, Bentley Randolph, who’d jogged up behind him while he’d been wallowing in self-pity. “I better get my head in the game.”

“You sure as shit better.” The man tapped him on the arm with his glove. “You okay? It’s not like you to be staring off into space. That’s more Tanner’s style.”

Todd couldn’t help but laugh when the other player, having heard the comment, flashed them a one-fingered salute shielded from the fans by his glove. “I’m fine, just distracted today,” he said.

“Troubles at home?”

More than you’ll ever know.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You all alone out here? I am, and I don’t mind telling you, I’m going bat-shit crazy. If you need some company, give me a call.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

They tapped gloves before Bentley returned to his spot in the outfield. It was good to have friends. If he hadn’t made plans to occupy himself every evening, he’d probably invite the guy over for dinner one night. The left fielder, once a legendary horndog, had finally found a woman he couldn’t let go. Baked by Brooke had provided the cake for Ashley and Bent’s lavish wedding in December. As magnificent as the confection was, it didn’t compare to the way Brooke had looked in the simple, midnight blue dress she’d worn to the affair.

He stopped that thought before it could embarrass him. Playing with a hard-on wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t wise. Imagining how he would explain how he’d snapped his dick in half was enough to dash any trace of an erection.

The game passed in a blur. The Mustangs bested Tony Ramirez’s old team, the Marauders, by one run—a solo homer contributed by Tony himself in the seventh inning. Todd hadn’t made any errors, but he didn’t need anyone to tell him he hadn’t given one hundred percent effort either.

“Hey.” Jason Holder hailed him as they walked to their cars in the parking lot after the game.

Todd slowed, waiting for his friend to catch up. “Hey, yourself.”

“How’s it going? Carrie said Brooke was in town.”

“Yeah.” Thinking about the days he hadn’t known where she was could still make him break out in a cold sweat. “Showed up on my doorstep last night.”

“She’s okay?”

“She’s fine. We’re trying to work things out.”

“She didn’t come to break things off then?”

“No. But it’s not that easy. I’m doing my best to keep her, but sometimes I wonder if I’m what she really needs. If I’m not, I need to let her go.” He stared at the car keys on his open palm. “I don’t know if I can do it though. I love her.”

Jason nodded. “I get it. I really do. If I thought I wasn’t doing it for Carrie anymore, you know, meeting her needs, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Would you let her go?”

Todd could practically see the thundercloud hanging over his friend’s head. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Yes, I think you do understand.”

“Look, Todd.” Jason shifted his weight. “Whatever it is Brooke needs, you gotta figure it out and get it for her. That’s the only way you can keep her.”

They made it to his car. He leaned against the front fender, crossing his ankles. The player’s parking lot was emptying out fast. The two of them waved at the last of their teammates as they pulled away. “Where’s your brother?”

“Jeff left as soon as the game was over. Didn’t even shower. Megan called earlier, said it was time.”

“Time?”

“Yeah.” Jason smiled. “They’re trying for another baby. The military could learn a few things from Megan Holder in regard to strategic planning.”

They shared a laugh. “Whatever happened to fuck ‘em as often as possible and see what happens?”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t have a clue. Keeping charts of temperatures and shit takes all the fun out of it if you ask me.”

“Yeah, I hear you. I think I’d prefer the old fashioned way, but whatever floats your boat.”

His friend leaned a hip against the front grill of Todd’s SUV. “You ever think about it, Stevens? Being a father?”

“Sometimes. I could see having a kid with Brooke. What about you?”

“Carrie has her career.” He shrugged. “But, yeah, I can see it.” He shoved away from the vehicle.

“As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go get some practice in right now. Carrie got into town this morning.” With a wave, he headed toward his car. “Tell Brooke I said hello.”

“Will do.”

Thinking about knocking Brooke up was all it took to make him hard. He wanted it all with her—kids, a lifetime.

Sending her to bed the night before without satisfying either one of them had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done in his life, but he didn’t want to touch her until her punishment was out of the way. Then there was the matter of his agreement with Mistress Lola. He’d already suffered for getting himself off without her permission. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do if he screwed Brooke. There wouldn’t be any way to hide what he’d done either—the woman had an uncanny way of seeing right through him.

He found that profoundly disturbing—enough so he wouldn’t orgasm again without prior approval.

Tonight. He’d made the appointment with the Domme earlier in the day, agreeing to let her administer Brooke’s punishment for running out on the training sessions he’d arranged for her. She also needed to answer for the days of terror she’d put him through when she disappeared. The rules of punishment dictated all would be forgiven once the sentence was carried out. Forgive he might, but forget—never. Wondering where she was, if she was alive, or if she’d fallen into the hands of a sadist, psycho, or not had taken years off his life. She would answer for her disrespect and disregard of his feelings tonight. Then, with a little luck, he would be given permission to fuck her.

He didn’t care where. He needed to feel her beneath him, above him, surrounding him. It had been way too long.

Brooke hung her clothes on the hanger in the small locker. Checking her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the dressing room door, she adjusted the high ponytail Mistress Lola instructed her to wear for tonight’s session. She’d never submitted to a woman before, but more than that, she’d never seen Todd submit to anyone. Ever.

She didn’t know how she felt about that. Part of her was intrigued, but another part hated that a man as proud as her Dom would go to such lengths for her. He’d forbidden her to speak of it. He’d made the decision to complete the contract he made with the woman. Brooke would have to deal with it.

Todd loved her. If he could play the role of a sub in order to better understand her, then she could submit to a woman. She expected punishment for what she did, imagined how painful the process would be. Learning that a woman would administer it was almost a relief. Surely, she wouldn’t strike as hard as Todd would. He hadn’t punished her many times, but on those occasions, she’d known his strength. No matter what instrument he used on her—paddle, flogger, or cane—the pain had been real and lasting.

Pulling open the door, she was almost happy. Her punishment would be over soon. They could forget about what she had done and move forward.

Brooke came to a halt at the sight before her. In the center of the room, Todd stood completely naked and hunched over, his neck and wrists held immobile by the massive wooden stocks. Metal shackles attached to the floor held his ankles far apart. A ball-gag forced his jaw open while preventing him from speaking.

“Master!” She shook her head.
This can’t be happening
. Oh, but it was, and it was all her fault.

“Let him go. Now.” She ignored the fierce look in her Master’s eyes, admonishing her to shut up.

“On your knees, slave.” The crack of the woman’s voice was as sharp as the whip that sliced the air inches from Brooke’s nose.

Stunned into compliance, she dropped to the floor. She spread her knees wide. Ducking her chin, she laced her fingers around her wrists at the small of her back.

“That’s better.” Gleaming black boots came into view, stopping to face her. The leather whip wrapped around Brooke’s throat like a sinister snake. “Your Master has brought you here tonight to answer for your misbehavior. You defied his direct order to submit to the Dom in whose care he left you. In doing so, you caused your Master undue stress for days. He worried for your safety, physically and mentally, so much so he came to me to find solace. What do you have to say for yourself, slave?”

Tears streamed down her cheeks, remorse washing through her as it hadn’t before. Her whole body shook with the sobs welling up inside. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“Do you understand you will be punished for your actions?”

Brooke gulped back her fear. Mistress Lola might not be physically as strong as her Master, but the woman wasn’t going to let her off with a token whipping. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Your Master has earned his own punishment for causing me to worry, and no, what you see now is not his punishment—
it’s yours
. Or, at least, it’s part of what I have planned for you. Because he loves you, your Master has put himself in a position few with a dominant nature are strong enough to endure. He wants to be the best Master he can be for you. In order to do that, he feels the need to understand your subservient nature. For the last few weeks, he’s been my sub.

“Master Todd’s dedication to you is something you should not take lightly. A love as complete as his doesn’t come along but once in a lifetime. Your actions indicate your lack of appreciation for all he’s given you. Tonight, my goal is to correct your thinking on this matter.”

Mistress Lola yanked Brooke’s ponytail, tilting her face up. Brooke cringed as the woman pressed the handle of the whip across her throat, restricting her air intake.

“You need to learn your place, slave. You do not own your body. Your Master does. He’s entrusted it to me for the evening.” She pushed Brooke’s head down before removing the whip from her neck.

Eyes once again downcast, she gulped in air, struggling to remain calm in the face of what she now knew would be a brutal scene.
You deserve it. Everything she said is true.

“Lower your forehead to the floor, hands above your head.”

Brooke slid forward. The concrete was like ice against her skin. Her nipples brushed the cold floor with even the slightest movement. Knees still spread, she was exposed and vulnerable. She shivered as the tip of Mistress’ whip trailed from her nape, along her spine then down her crack where it teased her anus before moving on to tickle her clit. The touch was a sensuous caress that made her pussy wet. The teasing went on for several minutes, lulling Brooke into wanting more. Imagining Todd’s reaction to seeing her that way was even more arousing.

Because she was focused on her desire, the first lash of leather across her back was a startling reminder of who and where she was. She cried out. The whip rained down on her back, her buttocks, her thighs, even her calves in a storm of pain she was desperate to escape. She clawed at the unforgiving floor while her forehead slipped and slid in her tears. In between the sharp cracks of leather on flesh, she heard the wails of a tormented soul. Hers? Todd’s? She was beyond knowing.