Mischief and the Masters by Cherise Sinclair


  “I saw her the next day and asked if she wanted to come. Oh, my God, she turned red.” Jessica giggled. “Apparently Master Sam ties her down, heats up the wax, and tends to that little chore for her.”

  “Oh sweet heavens.” Uzuri shivered. Master Sam was a hardcore sadist. He wouldn’t try to make waxing less painful. On the contrary.

  Sally shook her head. “I’m not sure whether to feel sorry for her or envious.”

  “We’re going to find out all too soon,” Kari said nervously.

  “Is everyone ready?” Andrea’s golden-brown complexion had turned an ashy pale color. She waved for them to follow the receptionist. “Everyone is assigned to a room. Let’s go.”

  Jessica disappeared into a room. Then Sally.

  Uzuri’s turn.

  As she entered the small room and saw the long padded table in the center, her heart started thumping way too fast. At least the esthetician, Maria, a middle-aged Hispanic woman with warm brown eyes, appeared reassuringly competent.

  Maybe the woman would want to chat for a while first.

  Maria handed Uzuri a towel. “Everything off from the waist down and climb up on the table. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

  Or not.

  Uzuri fumbled her clothes off. The last time she’d been told to strip down had been in the Shadowlands and a lot more fun. There had been nipple clamps and…

  She frowned. The table here looked far too much like a BDSM bondage table. Biting her lip, she climbed up on it and checked. No restraints. Whew.

  When Maria returned, the position she asked Uzuri to take was familiar. Feet together, knees open.

  “Good, your curlies are the right length,” the woman said in approval.

  Uzuri’s “curlies” seemed awfully long at half an inch. Last weekend at the club, she’d actually left early in fear that a Dom would notice her stubble and give her grief about it.

  With a little stick, Maria applied wax and covered it with a strip of fabric. Although Uzuri jumped, she decided the hot wax wasn’t uncomfortable.

  Then Maria took a firm hold on the strip—and ripped out the hair.

  Fuck! Uzuri made a sound that wasn’t pretty at all. Rainie’d insisted waxing felt like a Band-Aid being ripped off. Had the girl no nerves in her hoo-ha? Thankfully, the painful fireworks subsided quickly to a mild burning.

  Maria patted her hand. “See? Not so bad. The first visit is always the worst. With each visit, the hair follicles shrink, and the pain gets less.”

  From the room next door came a screech. “Madre de Dios!”

  Uzuri grinned. Andrea was usually so polite, but omigod, the Hispanic woman could swear a blue streak when she got upset. “Andrea, are you all right?”

  “Mierda, no!”

  “Hey, Andrea, are you still going to get married?” Sally called.

  “I may murder the cabrón instead. The hijo de puta, he said this would hurt less than a flogging. He lied.”

  Silence fell over the entire section of rooms, and Uzuri saw her esthetician’s mouth drop open. A second later, every Shadowkitten was giggling.

  Even giggling didn’t help the pain of the next rip.

  * * * * *

  PUSSIES NOW BARE and beautiful, the entire group had pulled on clothes and fled to the bar across the street for alcoholic aftercare. Uzuri figured a few drinks would be far more effective than the soothing oil the esthetician had applied.

  “I wonder how many of the waxing clients come here for alcohol therapy?” Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, Sally sucked her second drink down as fast as the first.

  “Lots.” Sitting next to her, Uzuri matched her drink for drink. All of her sensitive bits felt swollen and hot, as if she’d basked in the sun for hours with no panties on. And her nice dress slacks were way too tight. Why hadn’t she worn droopy old sweats like Sally and Jessica? Vanity wasn’t worth this kind of discomfort.

  Jessica arrived with another pitcher of Screaming Orgasms, plopped down beside Uzuri, and turned to Kari. “Hey, what was going on in your room? I heard a lot of ‘Oh, no’ noises.”

  Kari’s face turned the florescent shade of red only white girls could achieve. “The esthetician had finished my…my mound, working downward, you know, toward the uh…center. I got worried and closed my legs and…um…the sides kind of stuck together.”

  Andrea’s eyes widened. “Dios, you glued your pussy shut?”

  Uzuri choked on her drink.

  The laughter from their table turned heads throughout the whole bar.

  “How about you, Jessica?” Sally grinned. “What were all those ‘I’m so sorry’ comments for?”

  Jessica rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say eating bean soup for lunch was a really bad idea. That poor woman!”

  “You didn’t!” Uzuri was giggling so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. “What did—”

  “Hey, ladies.” A couple of men stood right behind Uzuri. Looming over her.

  She squeaked and cringed. Gripping the table hard, she forced herself to sit still. To breathe. One breath. Two. Relax, stupid.

  The men were smiling, not attacking. A little drunk and a lot happy, they were simply two rednecks on the prowl. One hitched his pants up. “Y’all sound like you’re having fun. Want some company?”

  Andrea shook her head. “No, sorry. This is a girls only night.”

  The bearded guy with the torn-off sleeves whined, “Aw, c’mon. We’re nice—”

  “Don’t waste your time with us. None of us can have sex tonight.” Sally smiled sweetly and held up her Kahlua and Irish cream-laden drink. “This is as close as we’re going to get to a screaming orgasm for a day or two.”

  The bearded guy shut his mouth with an audible snap, and both men backed away.

  Andrea let out a hysterical whoop.

  Uzuri gasped for breath. Omigod, she might die from laughing. “The looks on their faces…”

  “Here, m’dear, have a nice orgasm.” Kari tapped her glass against Sally’s, and they both downed a good portion of their drinks.

  Jessica had been laughing so hard her voice came out hoarse. “But what did you mean about no sex?”

  Sally tilted her head. “The instructions said no sex right after a wax job. Didn’t you read the brochure Andrea gave us?”

  “Uh, no. I didn’t think there was anything to learn. Hair gets ripped off painfully and… No sex, really?” Jessica bit her lip. “That might be awkward to explain.”

  Uzuri patted her hand. “Master Z probably…um…” She couldn’t tactfully say that Master Z was so experienced with women, he probably already knew. Change subject immediately. “What did Master Z say when you told him about getting waxed as a way to support your friend?”

  “Oooh, that jerk. He said if I was willing to undergo that much pain for a friend, he’d have to see what I would take for my beloved Dom. And that Master Sam probably had some interesting toys to borrow.” Jessica scowled. “Between worrying about the waxing and what evil things Z might come up with, I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

  “The thought of Master Z dreaming up creative ways to inflict pain is utterly terrifying.” Kari took a large chug of her drink and turned to Uzuri. “What did you think of the waxing?”

  “Actually… It hurt, but wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated.” And when Maria had started ripping out hair on her lower folds, Uzuri’d gotten almost floaty. “But”—she lowered her voice—“I don’t think anyone has looked at my hoo-ha so closely since…ever, and that last position, where she wanted me with my butt up and holding my cheeks open, was purely humiliating.”

  “Hey, mine didn’t ask for that pose,” Jessica said. “She kept me on my back and made me hold my legs up over my head.”

  “Yeah, legs up.” Sally nodded in agreement.

  “Oh, I had the ass upside, too!” Andrea hooted. “It was like anal sex without the grand finale!”

  “Shhh.” Blessed Mother, everyone in the place had heard Andrea’s lou
d comment. “Kari, take her alcohol away from her!”

  But Jessica and Kari were laughing so hard they were worthless.

  Sally clung to Uzuri, her shoulders shaking.

  Giggling, Uzuri clung back.

  Then her eyes filled unexpectedly…because she was surrounded by friends and laughter. When she’d moved to Tampa, leaving her beloved Cincinnati and everyone she’d known, she’d felt her life was over. Instead, her world had opened up in wonderful and unexpected ways, including gaining a slew of crazy friends who knew her more intimately than anyone had before.

  A hand covered hers. Sally’s brown eyes were concerned. “Okay, girlfriend?”

  Uzuri grinned. “Oh, yes. Just having one of those ‘I love you all’ moments.”

  The rest heard her and expressions turned soft.

  “I feel you, chica. Who else would have shared something like this?” Andrea lifted her glass up. “To my Shadowkittens.”

  Uzuri blinked hard, clinked her glass against the rest, downed her drink, and joined in the cheering.

  Sally leaned back. “So, was that tweezing stuff at the end horrible or what?”

  Uzuri grinned. Trust Sally to keep them from getting too mushy.

  “What tweezing?” Jessica frowned. “I didn’t have anything plucked.”

  “Oh. My. God. No one else did?” Sally looked indignant. “Mine pulled out the strays that way. I’m used to being looked at, not gone over with a magnifying glass…or tweezers! It was like something Master Sam would do just to hear a subbie squeak.”

  “I’m glad mine didn’t do that. Ewww.” Kari shifted in her chair, obviously looking for a more comfortable position. “What was the most embarrassing part for you, Andrea?”

  “I wasn’t all that embarrassed.” After a second, she turned red. “Well, not until I turned over, and I’d sweated so hard that the paper was stuck to my ass. Mierda.”

  “Oh, me, too. The same,” Jessica said.

  Sally swirled her drink. “Still, it wasn’t that bad. I’ve never felt so smooth—like I’ve been exfoliated or something. If the hair grows back as slow and fine as I’ve heard, I’ll probably switch to doing it this way. My demon Doms will like the smoothness.”

  “Demon Dom. There’s a perfect label for any Master.” Andrea gave Sally a pitying look. “I still can’t believe you fell for two.”

  “Me, neither.” Uzuri couldn’t handle one Dom, and Sally’d married two. She frowned at Sally. “When you started to get all crazy-pants, someone should have given you some Prozac and counseling or something. Letting you get involved with two Masters? I totally failed you as a BFF.”

  “You totally didn’t. Besides, I always did like two men at once…” Sally waggled her eyebrows. “You should try it sometime.”

  “No way, no how, not ever, never.” She couldn’t even manage one Dom sometimes, especially if he was taller than oh, five-ten or so.

  Sally straightened, her gaze on something across the room. “Uh…Andrea, are you still planning to murder Master Cullen?”

  Uzuri turned to look.

  Like a steamroller in action, Andrea’s fiancé was crossing the room. The powerfully built Dom had a rough face of blunt angles, shaggy brown hair, and green eyes. Getting him in good clothing didn’t happen often, but the Dom totally rocked jeans and T-shirts.

  He spotted them and his attention locked on his bride-to-be. Once beside her, he tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back. The kiss he laid on her was long and lascivious, totally inappropriate to being in public, and so sexy that the temperature in the room skyrocketed.

  Uzuri let out a silent sigh of envy.

  Master Cullen caressed Andrea’s cheek. His voice held a slight Irish list as he asked, “So, love, are all your tender bits naked now?”

  Her brows drew together. “Sí, you…you…” She burst out laughing again. “It hurt like hell, but I am bare as a baby’s bottom.” Her voice was still loud.

  His eyes narrowed before he glanced at the empty Screaming Orgasm pitchers on the table. “You’re toasted, pet.”

  She frowned at him. “No, mi Señor, they did not toast anything. They ripped all the hairs out of my—”

  Roaring with laughter, he put his hand over her mouth. “I mean you’re drunk, love. Time to take you home.” He glanced at the rest of them. “I appreciate you joining her today. It’s good she has friends to back her up.”

  Sally waved her glass in the air. “That’s us, always available for kidnappings, bachelorette parties, counseling, and wax torture.”

  He snorted. “She’s not the only one who’s toasted. Do you all have a way home?”

  “We’re good. Dan is picking up me and Kari, and Vance is coming for Sally and Uzuri.” Jessica smiled. “Take your woman home and pamper her a little. She suffered for you today.”

  Cullen grinned. “I’m sure I’ll hear about it.” His face softened, and he brushed his hand down Andrea’s loose hair. “My sweet Amazon.”

  The love in his expression pierced through Uzuri so hard she felt as if something had cracked open deep inside. Tears filled her eyes, and she set a hand on her aching chest.

  Cullen lifted his fiancée to her feet and kept her upright with an arm around her waist. Andrea chattered away. Her hands flew as she described the waxing, and his booming laugh filled the room. Steering her toward the door, he guarded her from any bumps. Andrea didn’t even notice.

  Uzuri did.

  What would it be like to have a man to lean on?

  Her mama had been the only person Uzuri had ever counted on for support. And then for a few years, she’d been the one to support her mama. Before Mama had died.

  Uzuri looked around the table. All her friends had Doms who loved, helped, and protected them. What would that feel like?

  A longing sparked to life deep in her chest, and even a big gulp of her sweet, potent drink couldn’t drown it out.

  Chapter Three

  FOR FRIDAY NIGHT at the Shadowlands BDSM club, Uzuri had dressed in all white—a white halter top, frothy petticoats that barely covered her ass, and white fishnet thigh-high stockings. Ben, the security guard had actually approved of her white lacy stilettos, and she’d gotten to leave them on rather than going barefoot.

  She’d done her hair in a braided Grecian crown that circled her head and created what she liked to think of as a halo around her head. When she’d told Holt that this was her angelic look, her friend had laughed his fool head off. The dumbass Dom. What did he know, anyway?

  Then again, he might still be grumpy about her signing him up for all those Viagra and male enhancement products. She grinned.

  Time to start her barmaiding shift. As she headed toward the bar, she danced a few steps to “Mirrors” by Natalia Kills and checked out each roped-off scene area as she went past. One had a Domme flogging her male submissive; the next was a sadist caning his favorite masochist. Saxon had claimed the spanking bench. He had huge hands, and the woman strapped to the bench yelped with every smack.

  A few people had gathered around the next area, and Uzuri stopped to see what had them so fascinated.

  Oh. The Drago cousins were co-topping. Unable to resist, Uzuri stopped to watch. Who wouldn’t?

  With the brunette submissive named Alyssa tied to a bondage table, Alastair was dripping hot wax over her bare breasts while Max was using various vibrators on her pussy.

  Two Doms at once. “You should try it sometime.” Oooh, Sally should never have suggested the idea. Uzuri had dreamed about the Drago cousins last night and woke up terrified.

  Although watching this scene was a little anxiety inducing, it was also hot. Okay, seriously hot. Maybe because Master Alastair was one of the Doms. Like Master Marcus who was a lawyer, Alastair dressed fine. Polished and stylish. He’d tossed his jacket and tie over a chair and wore a button-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His skin was a few shades darker than Uzuri’s, and he was…gorgeous.

  And, truly, Alastair’s
rapport with his cousin was refreshing to watch. The two made an amazing team.

  “I thought you didn’t like Master Alastair.” Sally appeared and slid an arm around Uzuri’s waist. “Although if that’s true, I’d have to question your taste. Every unattached submissive in the place adores him.”

  “Of course they do. Just look at him.” Talk about male perfection. A couple of inches or so over six feet, he was all lean, rippling muscles and chiseled features. Although in the dark clubroom, his eyes matched his skin, in daylight, his eyes were an uncanny and beautiful hazel with the slightest Oriental tilt.

  His deep, British-accented baritone was simply icing on the cake.

  “I like the way he wears his hair now,” Sally noted.

  “Me, too.” A while back, he’d stopped shaving his scalp, and now kept his hair barely long enough to show some crisp curl. A perfectly sculpted short beard framed his sensuous lips and jawline.

  If only he were shorter…like well under six feet. She couldn’t possibly be with a man who would tower over her.

  “Did you two ever make up?” Sally glanced at her. “I mean, like, a year or so ago, you yelled at him that he was hung up on race issues. I’d never heard you yell at anyone before.”

  “You’re right; I was rude. And…it wasn’t true, either.” As guilt gouged her conscience, Uzuri stared down at her shoes. “He was amazing, and I wanted to scene with him—even though he’s awfully tall—but when I was restrained, he bent over me, and I got scared, and I kept panicking, and I couldn’t explain it, and he couldn’t figure out why since I was the one who’d wanted the scene.”

  “Oh, wow.” Sally frowned. “But then…”

  “He left town afterward, for months. When he returned and wanted to see if we could figure out why I panicked, I went off on him.” She should have apologized. However, every time she’d thought about it, she’d chickened out. What if he got mad at her?

  “Oooh. You yelled at a Dom. In public. And accused him of something that wasn’t true?” Sally shook her head. “And now, he’s a Master.”

  “I know.” Masters in the Shadowlands were allowed to do almost anything they wanted. Uzuri brightened. “At least, I’m not a trainee any longer.”

 
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