Mischief and the Masters by Cherise Sinclair

  She was…warm. Thoughtful. Adorably funny. Observant. Quietly confident. Seemed as if many women—including his ex—were like the gusty breezes before a storm, noisy, veering directions, knocking shit around.

  Zuri was more like the soft wind off the Gulf on a sunny day.

  Unless she had some tequila in her. Max grinned. Nothing like a quirky streak to keep life interesting.

  But she wasn’t here tonight. Time for sports.

  Leaning forward, he reached for the remote, but it wasn’t on the coffee table. Or the side table. He rose and checked the floor, then under the couch cushions.

  On one of the recliners, maybe? The right recliner was empty. The left one…

  He stared. One of Zuri’s dolls—a male one—was seated on the chair. Brown hair, blue eyes, square chin, muscular. It wore jeans with a torn right knee and a black T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Max glanced down at his own clothes—jeans with a torn knee, black T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off.

  Well, damn. He grinned. She was damned talented—that was far too close a resemblance for comfort.

  Good thing the plastic bastards weren’t anatomically correct.

  After a second, he noticed his miniature replica had a rolled-up paper in its hand.

  All right, I’ll bite. He tugged the paper loose and unrolled it. “Stressed is desserts spelled backward.” What the fuck did that mean?

  Remote missing. Little subbie missing. Suspicion began to raise its ugly head. He glanced at the doll and could have sworn it smirked at him.

  Max growled. Okay, subbie, the lack of a remote is definitely stressing me out. Then again, the note said desserts. Like something sweet? That had potential.

  In the kitchen, he checked the refrigerator. Nothing interesting there, although he damned well planned to hijack the jambalaya leftovers before bed.

  Cupboards? Bingo. The third one had an Alastair replica sitting on a covered cake pan. Cake?

  He pushed Alastair off the goodies—“Sorry, cuz”—picked up the pan, and opened the lid.

  Carrot cake with thick cream cheese frosting.

  Oh, yeah. One bite and he had no stress molecules left in his body. Damn but the princess could cook.

  After his first—and second—helping was gone, he licked the frosting off his fingers and studied the doll. Beard. Stethoscope. Lab coat. “Cute tie, cuz. Now, why don’t you tell me where she hid my remote?”

  Yep, there was another rolled up paper. “The earth has music for those who listen.” –William Shakespeare

  Right. There was a little subbie who needed her ass paddled. Yet his annoyance was sadly missing. Frosting—the fastest tranquilizer in the world.

  He frowned at the note again. He could watch the television without a remote. Nah, they’d kick him out of the League of Manly Men.

  “The earth has music for those who listen.” The “earth” wouldn’t be inside the house. Outside on the patio, he looked around. Nothing here. Alastair had already left.

  Max stepped out of the screened patio.

  Tail wagging, Hunter abandoned the doghouse and trotted over to say hi.

  “Hey, buddy. Want to help me search the grounds?” Grabbing a rubber ball, he pitched the ball across the wide lawn. With a yip of glee, Hunter gave chase.

  Max followed more slowly, inspecting the various plantings.


  The bird feeder in the maple tree had acquired a new occupant. On the wide platform, a brown-skinned Barbie doll leaned back on her arms, face raised to the sun. Its legs were propped up on his missing remote.

  That little brat.

  Chuckling, Max grabbed the remote and the doll. Maybe he should be more upset, but her prank had been too fucking cute. Besides, his rudeness had earned him some harassment.

  And she’d given him cake.

  Yeah, he’d let her off the hook for messing with her Dom.

  Settling down onto the couch with Hunter at his feet, Max flipped to a sports broadcast.

  Spanish? The sportscast shouldn’t be in Spanish. In growing disbelief, he found their usual news channel. Spanish.

  Zuri had messed with his television.

  “Okay, baby,” he growled. “Game on.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  UZURI WALKED INTO the house that night. With luck, the Doms had gone to bed. Hopefully, at least Max had gone to bed. Over the past few hours, she’d grown increasingly nervous.

  Rainie and Sally had bid her farewell as if unsure they’d ever see her again. Friends really were a comfort. Not.

  She closed the door ever so quietly, removed her shoes, and tiptoed toward the stairs. From the TV room came the sound of a movie. In English, not Spanish. A snicker almost escaped her.

  When she was halfway to the second floor, Hunter appeared and dashed up the stairs. His oo-oo-oo greeting made her cringe.

  “Shhh, boo,” she whispered. “I love you, but shhh.”

  “No need to be quiet, subbie.” The rasp in the deep voice was all too familiar.

  Busted. She straightened slowly.

  Max was leaning against the bottom stair post. Muscular arms crossed. Hard face unreadable.

  “Um. Good evening.” She swallowed. “Sir.”

  “It’s a good evening now, yes.” He gave her a mean look. “Although I wasted a chunk of it trying to reset the TV default language to one I happen to speak.”

  She clapped her hands over her mouth, but her snicker was definitely audible.

  He didn’t react, but said far too quietly, “Television room. Now.”

  Her mouth went dry, and her feet froze to the stairs. A nervous flutter took up residence in her chest. If she said anything, it would come out a fearful whine…with giggles. Oh, she was so in trouble.

  As she walked toward the room, Max snapped his fingers and said, “Hunter. Time for you to go out.”

  He was putting the dog outside. There would be no four-footed rescue for her.

  On the couch, Alastair looked up as she entered. The corners of his mouth tipped up slightly. “I fear messing with his television might have been one step too far, pet.”

  She was totally getting that impression.

  To think she’d been scared when Mistress Anne discovered who’d sabotaged her locker with rubber cockroaches.

  This was a whole new level of fear.

  “Seems you had a good time playing earlier,” Max walked up behind her and firmly pushed her farther into the room. “Since we take turns in this relationship, guess that makes it our turn to play.”

  “Our?” Her gaze flew to Alastair. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “Max and I share.” Alastair raised an eyebrow. “Our house, our food, our submissive. Our problems.”

  Max set a foot on the coffee table and rested his thick forearms on his thigh. “You used dolls to guide me to the remote. Alastair and I did the same for you.” He pointed. On the coffee table next to his open toy bag were the three dolls.

  They were the same dolls she’d used for his treasure hunt: Detective Dragon, Dr. Dragon, and Zuri-doll, only now Zuri-doll was naked and arranged across Dr. Dragon’s lap, ass in the air. Detective Dragon was on one knee…his hand between Zuri-doll’s plastic legs.

  “Get naked, subbie,” Max said, ever so softly.


  He lifted his chin. And waited.

  But, but, but… Fingers trembling slightly, she stripped off her clothes and folded them in a neat pile on the coffee table.

  The Doms she trusted—she did…mostly—were silent as she straightened, put her arms behind her back, and lowered her gaze.

  “You really are beautiful, little miss.” Alastair’s words set up a glow inside her.

  “Little miss? More like little mischief.” Max glowered. “Why did I think the tales about you were exaggerated?”

  Don’t laugh. She kept her eyes lowered.

  “Look at her. She’s trying not to laugh.” Max made a disgusted sound.

bsp; Oh, God, she couldn’t stand it.

  She exploded into giggles—and couldn’t stop. Even putting her hands over her mouth didn’t help.

  When she looked up, Alastair was laughing, as well.

  “You bastard, you’re not helping.” Max’s exasperation set her off again.

  She stopped…finally…although her cheeks hurt, and her stomach hurt, and she had to wipe the tears from her face.

  “Never heard her laugh like that before. Have you?” Max said.

  “A time or two when she was with the Shadowkittens,” Alastair said.

  Huh, she never did lose it like this around men. How odd to be in trouble and still go into a giggle-fest.

  Max frowned at her. “All right, darlin’. Because I started my movie so late—”

  Late because he couldn’t find the remote. Ignoring the sound that escaped her, she forced her face into serious lines.

  He pointed at her. “Do not start laughing again. The movie isn’t finished, and Alastair and I want to see the end. You may sit quietly and not bother us.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  “Good. We’ve also talked about getting you ready for anal.”

  It took her a second to make the leap in subjects. Anal what? Omigod, anal sex. They’d mentioned it a couple of times and asked if she wanted to try it.

  Although it’d been on her limits list in the Shadowlands, she hadn’t told the Dragos no. Sally said it was fun.

  Sally was a smidge on the certifiably crazy side.

  “I-I… Now?” Her voice squeaked like a mouse that’d had its tail bitten off.

  Alastair beckoned to her. “A small plug today. Over a few days, they’ll get larger until you’re ready for a cock. Turn around and bend over, sweetheart.”

  When his smooth baritone dropped into a Dom’s command, her willpower disappeared. She turned. Heat rising into her face, she bent, closed her eyes, and curled her fingers around her knees in a death grip. Shockingly cool lubricant drizzled between her buttocks.

  Alastair pressed the smooth anal plug against her back hole.

  Ew. Her involuntary jump and attempt to straighten was blocked. Max’s ruthless hand on her nape kept her bent over.

  Alastair didn’t waste time. Slowly—mercilessly—he pressed in the thick head of the plug. Her anal muscles closed around the thinner portion.

  Something inside her there felt strange. Dirty and wrong…and intensely erotic.

  “Up you come.” Max helped her straighten. “As long as we’re decorating our plaything, we’ll do it right.” He removed nipple clamps from his toy bag, tossed them to Alastair, and turned her to face them both. “Hold still, princess.”

  He pulled and rolled her nipples between his fingers. Pleasure zinged through her as he continued until he had jutting peaks. “That should do it.”

  While Max pulled on the tip of one, Alastair applied the rubber-tipped clamp and tightened the screw slowly.

  The pinch grew and grew, and she whined a protest.

  He stopped, finally, having gone a lot further than any Dom before. The thing felt as if it was biting her nipple. Hard.

  Without waiting, they did the other breast.

  The burning pain in both nipples froze her in place. Ow, ow, ow.

  “Uzuri.” Alastair captured her face in his big hands and forced her to look at him. His steady, perceptive gaze held hers. “Inhale. Deeper. Exhale. Again.”

  She clung to his gaze like a lifeline, and after a few seconds, the pain from the clamps eased to a constant, low throbbing, somehow matching the uncomfortable feeling in her ass. The bare skin over her whole body felt hot and sensitized. Under her feet, the hardwood floor was cold. Alastair’s hands felt cool against her flushed face.

  “Good girl.” He smiled at her and stepped back.

  “Now this, little mischief.” Max squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before attaching a thin yard-long chain between the clamps. The cool metal bounced against her bare stomach. The small painful tugs on her nipples coursed straight to her ever-dampening pussy.

  Uncomfortably, she shifted her weight—and stilled as she saw both Doms were watching her. And smiling.

  “One last thing,” Max said. He took a pink U-shaped sex toy from his bag. A wire ran to a controller. “Spread your legs, Zuri.”

  Her legs were extremely reluctant to move apart, and it seemed to take forever before he smiled his satisfaction.

  “Since you don’t get to watch the movie, I didn’t want you to get bored. This should help.” Reaching between her legs, he slid one end of the U into her vagina. When he stopped, the other end rested directly on her clit.

  Holding the toy in place, Max looked up at her. “Close your legs.”

  She pulled her legs together, feeling the foreign intrusion inside her. Two foreign intrusions.

  Naked. Penetrated. And in trouble. Oh, this wasn’t good.

  “Alastair and I discussed your behavior.” Max paused. “We like your sense of humor, Zuri. Normally, something like hiding the remote wouldn’t get you into trouble, especially if you’re doing it to prod me out of a bad mood.”

  Alastair continued. “The problem is when you’re out for revenge.”

  Uzuri frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Max snapped at you,” Alastair said, “but I believe he apologized?”

  She nodded. He had. He’d been sweet about it, too, in a way she rarely saw.

  “The way you hid the remote was funny.” Max smiled. “Adding in the carrot cake…”

  “That was brilliant,” Alastair said.

  “I was in a great mood by the time I got to the remote.” Max shook his head. “I might have had fun with you when you got back, but punishment sure wouldn’t have been involved.”

  Uzuri felt a warm glow inside.

  “However…” Max’s smile faded.

  She stiffened.

  “When you changed the language on the television, I’m thinking that wasn’t to help your Dom or to be cute.” He pinned her with a chilly look. “That was payback and not in a nice way.”

  “How did you feel when you were setting everything up? Do you see the difference?” Alastair asked quietly.

  Her shoulders slumped. Actually, she did. When she’d been creating the treasure hunt, everything she’d done was to make Max laugh. To make him feel better.

  But then she’d started thinking about how he’d snapped at her and how mean he’d sounded, and the television stunt had been…not for Max, but for her. For revenge. Even though he’d apologized, and she’d forgiven him, but apparently, she hadn’t. Not down deep. How petty was that? “You’re right,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  When she dared to look up, Max’s stern expression had disappeared. He ran his finger down her cheek so very gently. “We’re all learning to work together, darlin’. And we’ll undoubtedly fuck up.”

  Alastair added. “If we make a mistake or disagree, we discuss the problem. Honestly. And try to mend matters. There is no need for vengeful actions—and such actions will get punished.”

  She nodded. But…she liked playing. For fun. She bit her lip. “What if…”

  “Ah.” Alastair smiled. “Fun mischief will get you ‘funishment’.”

  Fake punishment that everyone enjoyed. When Gabi had talked about what she “earned” from Marcus, Uzuri hadn’t seen the appeal. Now, actually, with the Dragon Doms, she thought she might like some. “Um. So…what is tonight?”

  “A little of both,” Max said.

  “Starting with punishment,” Alastair sat down on the couch next to where she stood. “Ending with fun. At least for us.”

  Wait… That didn’t sound exactly good.

  “Remember the doll’s position, princess?” With hard hands, Max turned her, then bent her over Alastair’s thighs.

  Gripping her arm, Alastair pulled her all the way down, adjusting her so her ass was high in the air. His thighs were like iron beneath her belly and pelvis. As Uzuri brace
d herself with her palms on the floor, she felt…humiliated. It had been embarrassing enough when Alastair’d spanked her and they’d been alone. With two of them? Somehow, it was much worse.

  For a silent minute, Alastair simply massaged her bottom with one hand. His other hand was on her back, holding her in place, pressing hard enough to let her know she couldn’t escape.

  Pulling on her tender nipples, the chain from the clamps dangled to the floor. Alastair set his bare foot on the end. “I recommend you don’t move from this position, pet.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Anchored under his foot, the chain still had enough slack she could take a breath, but any real movement would pull on her sensitive nipples. Don’t move.

  Alastair patted her bottom lightly. “I believe a spanking feels different with a plug in.”

  She stiffened, realized what he meant—and he started slapping her ass.

  Whap, whap, whap.

  Each quick light smack jarred the anal plug slightly and made her squirm. The sting of the blows wasn’t bad, not at first.

  But he hit her harder, and the burn grew. And grew. Tears filled her eyes. She wiggled, tried to rise up, and the nipple chains pulled painfully. Pain in her breasts, pain in her bottom. It all rushed over her, terrifying her. “Yellow.”

  Alastair stopped immediately.

  Max squatted in front of her and lifted her head slightly. “Talk to us, baby.”

  When she sniffled, he wiped her damp face with a tissue Alastair handed him.

  “It hurts,” she told him.

  “I know.” Max’s face was tight, his blue eyes dark and unhappy. “This is punishment and isn’t meant to be fun. But we won’t go past what you can bear, darlin’. Did it reach that point?”

  As his warm hand cupped her chin, she felt Alastair stroking her back, soothing her. Her bottom burned, her breasts throbbed, but…not unbearably. Not really. Not now that she had a moment to think. “I guess I got scared.” She took a breath.

  They’d stopped right away when she got overwhelmed. And had talked to her. She knew she deserved the punishment, but they wouldn’t continue if she couldn’t take it. The thin thread of trust in her two Doms grew stronger. “I’m okay.”

  “All right.” Alastair smoothed his hand over her burning ass cheeks. “Enough for the moment. We’ll continue at the commercial break.”

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