Mischief and the Masters by Cherise Sinclair

  “I’m a what?” He appeared in the doorway, saw the drawer, and chuckled. “I told Nadia she could leave some spare clothes here.”

  “Is she the blonde lawyer or the redheaded broker?”


  Uzuri grimaced. Master Raoul didn’t like that woman.

  Holt always juggled his multiple women with such skill, charm, and honesty that none felt misused. None had ever been allowed to leave clothes in his place. Until now. “Are you serious about her?”

  “Well…” The uncomfortable way he moved his shoulders was a dead giveaway.

  “You are!” Although the redhead wasn’t who Uzuri would choose for him, at least he’d found someone to care about. “Good for you. Have you told her?” She waggled her head at his silence. “Want me to share how you feel? Seems like something a friend should do.”

  He scowled, displeased at getting his own threat back. “Remind me to tell your new Masters about some of your dislikes. Like having your toes played with.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I have more Styrofoam balls, you know.”

  Unfazed, he only laughed and left her to her packing.

  A few minutes later, Holt lugged her oversized tote out to her car for her. “Come on by next week and tell me what happens. Besides, you’ll need more clothes by then.” He grinned.

  Truth was truth. She would definitely need more clothes. “Okay. Just in case, be prepared to move out.”


  She threw her arms around him and gave him a hearty hug. “It was good to see you again.”

  “It was.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Be a good subbie and don’t get in too much trouble, okay?”

  “Pffft. Those Dragon Doms need something to shake them up a bit, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. You could tell them you love them.”

  That kept her silent all the way home.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  AT THE SHADOWLANDS that weekend, Uzuri tried the door. As expected this early in the evening, it was locked. She pushed the dragon doorbell on the side panel.

  After a few seconds, Ben opened the heavy oak door and smiled down at her. The muscular security guard was huge, at least a couple of inches taller than her Dragon Doms. “C’mon in, Zuri.”

  Uzuri followed him into the entry, shaking her head at his faded Willie Nelson T-shirt and jeans. Apparently, Master Z’s Halloween theme night of heroes and villains didn’t apply to him.

  As he walked behind his desk, he grinned. “Are you Wonder Woman?”

  Uzuri glanced down at her metallic-appearing breastplate, short golden skirt of leather flaps, and long, golden wrist gauntlets. Her costume—and Andrea’s—had taken forever to construct. “No, Andrea is Wonder Woman. I’m Philippus who was occasionally Queen of the Amazons as well as Diana’s trainer.”

  Perched on Ben’s desk in a Supergirl outfit, Jessica grinned. She’d also perused Sally’s stash of comic books last week for inspiration. “I remember her. She was black and tough and hot. You look perfect.”

  “Thank you.” Uzuri flexed her arm and eyed her biceps dubiously. She might have failed on the tough part of the assignment. “Where’s Sophia? Who’s with her?”

  “She’s in bed already.” Jessica held up a baby monitor. “I’ll hear her if she wakes up.”

  “Nice that you can run up and down from the third floor,” Ben said. “When our baby comes, Anne and I will be juggling schedules.”

  “Actually, Z’s considering hiring a manager for the club and letting him or her have our place. He wants Sophia to grow up in a quiet, safe neighborhood where there are other children around. Above a BDSM club? Uh-uh.”

  Uzuri glanced at the inner door, thinking of the paddles and floggers adorning the walls. The chains dangling from the ceiling beams. “I’d worry, too. I sure snooped into everything when I was little.”

  “Me, too. At least we’re safe until Sophia starts to walk.” Jessica grinned. “And as long as I’m here, I can help with Shadowkitten shenanigans.”

  “Shenanigans, huh? Whatcha up to this time?” Ben asked Uzuri. “You already know how to open a combination lock. Hell, you’re faster than I am.”

  “I needed to be.” After he’d shown her the trick, she practiced constantly. Sneaking into the Masters’ locker room was as foolhardy as a mouse checking out a bowl of cat food.

  “Today, I need help with this.” From her tote bag, she pulled out the padlock she’d bought.

  He took it from her. “Why? Z uses only combination locks on the lockers.”

  “I know. Would you believe Alastair and Max padlocked their toy bags?” She gave him a disgusted frown. “Somebody warned them.”

  Ben’s hearty laugh made the walls echo. “Probably every Dom in the club warned them.” He tossed the lock in the air and caught it. “No worries, sweetie. These are even easier than combination locks. Got a bobby pin?”

  “I do.” Jessica pulled one out of her hair and handed it over.

  “First we make our tools.” He pulled the rubber off the bobby pin and bent the end. “Bobby pins work well. Or there are alternatives.” He held up a pen. After removing the metal pocket clip, he bent the tip and inserted it into the keyhole.

  “Keep pressure on the lever.” He picked up the bobby pin. “Then put in the rake and wiggle it until you feel a release.”

  The tiny sound was almost inaudible. He yanked up the curved padlock top. “Open.”

  “Wow.” Wiggling with anticipation, Uzuri tossed back her cape and held out her hand. “May I try?”

  As she carefully followed his instructions, he watched closely, giving further directions on how to adjust for different locks.

  Keeping tension on the pen part as she raked the bobby pin over the keyhole innards, she felt something give. She grinned. “There.”

  “Perfect,” Ben said. “Now, keep turning the lever upward, yeah?”

  The lock opened.

  “That was fun!” Snapping the padlock shut, she bent to do it again.

  Fifteen minutes later, tools firmly in hand, she followed Jessica to the Masters’ locker-room.

  Tossing her blonde hair out of the way, Jessica punched a code into the keypad outside the door.

  Nervously, Uzuri glanced behind her at the silent main clubroom. “Does Master Z know that you help us?” It was one thing messing with her Doms—or even the regular Masters—but Master Z was a whole different category of threat.

  Jessica held open the door. “I’m pretty sure he suspects. Thankfully, he prefers not to interfere in interactions between other Doms and their submissives. If I actually…did…anything to annoy a Master, I might get in trouble, but hey, I’m simply holding open a door, right?”

  Uzuri snorted. “Don’t try that excuse with an officer of the law.”

  “Cops are a special breed. Thank goodness Dan married a sweetie like Kari rather than sneaky females like us.” Laughing, Jessica poked her in the shoulder. “You, however, might have chosen the wrong Doms. Max looks like he’s as strict as Dan.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Is that why the raid on their bags?”

  “Totally. You should’ve seen how mean they were to me this morning. Three separate punishments.” The paddling was bad. Having to wear a giant anal plug was worse. She’d walked like a duck for two hours. And the third…

  Walking down the row of lockers, Uzuri spotted her Doms’ names. The inscribed metal tags Master Z used were very helpful, not that she’d mention that to him.

  “How come the punishments?” Jessica asked.

  “Oh…” Uzuri opened her bag and removed the cutout from a soda can. “I didn’t do a weight workout for a couple of days. Sometimes I don’t feel like getting all sweaty, you know?”

  “I hear you.” Jessica grimaced. “Z decided I wasn’t getting enough exercise, and now I have to walk all the paths in the garden every morning, even when it’s raining. What were the other things?”

  “There was—” Uzuri’s cheeks heated. She hadn’t put in the butt plug for two days. Because… well, having a Dom insert it was okay. Kind of dirty, and yet sexy. But shoving something in there herself was too gross. Eww.

  And telling Jessica that would be TMI.

  Jessica sat on the bench and looked up expectantly. “Was what?”

  “Um. Nothing much.” Flustered, Uzuri skipped to her third punishment. “The third was the worst.” Alastair’d asked if she’d called anyone for Monday’s conference at Brendall’s. Her evasions hadn’t worked—and he’d pointed out she’d had over two days to act. “They cuffed my hands behind my back and my legs together for three hours, and I had to beg them for food or water, to scratch an itch, to use a Kleenex, or even for help in the bathroom, and omigod, it was so humiliating. All because I didn’t call my friends to ask them for help. I can’t believe they—”

  “Wait… What kind of help?” Jessica’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t I your friend?” She waved her hand at the locker-room. “We break-and-enter together, right? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I…” Unable to bear Jessica’s displeasure, Uzuri concentrated on the combination locks on the Dragon Doms’ lockers. It only took a minute or two to get both locks open using the cutout. Thank you, Ben. She and Sally had made good use of the skill more than once.

  A girl had to wonder about what other tricks those Special Ops soldiers knew.

  “Uzuri…” Jessica tapped her foot.

  “Girl, you’ve got Master Z’s tone down pat.” With a resigned sigh, Uzuri faced one of the nicest, bestest friends a woman could have. “Helping with Shadowlands pranks is one thing. I know you like getting involved. But this is something not related to the Shadowlands, and getting you—everybody—to show up on a Monday morning would mean you’d have to make baby arrangements and go out of your way and—”

  “Oh, my God, Zuri, just ask me.”

  Uzuri felt like pounding her head on a wall. I did it again. Talk about being dense. And slow. She needed to get over this hang-up. After a breath, she launched into the explanation. “There’s a problem where I work. I saw this sales associate catering to the rich people and—”

  “Carole? The one who let the air out of your tire?”

  At this evidence of how closely Jessica had listened, Uzuri blinked. “Um. Yes. And since then, the morale in sales for that department has gone downhill, and so sales are…”

  As Uzuri gave Jessica the story, she set Alastair’s toy bag on the bench. After inserting the “lock pick” from the pen clip into the padlock, she manipulated the bent bobby pin.

  Click. She pulled the lock open and bounced on her toes in victory.

  “Good job. And I’ll be there on Monday.” Jessica hesitated. “I’m not going to contact the rest of the gang. Your Doms are right; you need to learn to ask for help.”

  Finishing with her exchanges, Uzuri put the padlock back on and set the bag in his locker. Finally, she looked up to meet Jessica’s eyes. “I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you earlier. It’s…hard.”

  “Hey, Andrea has almost the same problem. And you did ask me—finally.” Jessica frowned. “You’re always helping everyone else, Zuri. Babysitting, giving fashion advice—even critiquing swimsuit selfies which is way above and beyond friendship limits—and being there when one of us has guy problems. You do margarita therapy. You have to let us help you sometimes or the balance feels off.”

  “Oh.” Uzuri hadn’t looked at it like that. Friendship should go both ways.

  “But this is your warning. If I don’t see a bunch of our friends on Monday, I’ll tell everybody you were afraid to ask for help. Can you imagine the grief you’ll get?”

  Uzuri looked at her in horror. “You—you’re evil.”

  “Cool threat, huh? Comes from living with Z.” Grinning, Jessica rose. “I wish I could help here, but I have to be able to say I’ve never touched anything inside the Masters’ room. With luck, he’ll never ask about the keypad outside.”

  “If I had Master Z for a Dom, I sure wouldn’t be touching any keypads.” Uzuri pulled Max’s bag out and almost dropped it. What did he have in there—lead weights?

  Almost at the door, Jessica glanced at the wall clock. “You’d better hurry. The Masters’ meeting won’t last much longer.”

  “I will. Thank you.” Uzuri started to rummage through Max’s bag and realized she didn’t have time to snoop. Instead, she switched out the various items and pulled the Max doll from her own bag. “Ready for action, Detective Dragon? You totally look up to the job.”

  Jessica glanced over her shoulder and sputtered. “Oh my God, Max’s going have a fit!”

  “Mmmhmm.” Snickering, Uzuri laid Detective Dragon in the bag, zipped it up, and relocked the bag and lockers.

  As she slipped out of the room, she heard the Masters coming downstairs and through Master Z’s private entrance. Cullen’s booming voice echoed in the hallway.

  When Alastair’s deep laugh and Max’s rougher chuckle followed, her heart did a slow somersault of happiness in her chest. No, more than happiness, it was love. She loved them. Loved. Them.

  Then she thought of the sabotaged toy bags and froze. Oh, no. Oh, no, what had she done? Sure, the dolls were funny, and if her Masters spotted them at home, they’d laugh their fool heads off.

  But here? In public? And with the rest of the stuff she’d done?

  Dread shook her, and she ran back to the locker room. She had to get that stuff out.

  Only the door was locked and Jessica was gone.

  * * * * *

  TOY BAG OVER his shoulder and with Alastair beside him, Max led their little submissive across the clubroom toward the scene area they’d chosen to use.

  Hell of a place tonight, he had to say. It seemed the Shadowlands’ membership got into costume nights, especially a Halloween theme. The submissives were all in brightly colored superhero costumes. He passed a “little” in a PowerGirl costume and two gay slaves wearing Batman and Robin outfits. Raoul’s Kim was dressed as Aquagirl.

  Master Z had decreed that “good” would suffer tonight which meant Dominants, Masters, and Tops were all villains.

  Max glanced down at their own little superhero. He hadn’t seen her costume before, since she’d changed at Andrea and Cullen’s. Shoulder guards were held in place by several gold chains. He ran a finger over the guards and realized they were made of gold foil and matched the arm and shin gauntlets. Somehow, she’d transformed a bustier into what looked like a gold metal breastplate. Her ass was covered by golden leather lappets; the strips of leather hung to mid-thigh like a gladiator kilt. A dark red cape finished off the look.

  She was incredibly sexy.

  Her hair was cornrowed tightly to her scalp, which suited a warrior queen. Her brows were darker. Gold eye shadow and thick black liner made her eyes huge.

  Those eyes were turned to the floor rather than taking in all the other costumes around. He frowned. “You’re awfully quiet, princess. Are you still angry about this morning’s punishments?”

  Silently, she shook her head no.

  A fizzle of concern made him study her more closely. Tense shoulders. Walking farther from him than normal. Head bowed. Eyes lowered.

  If she’d been a suspect, he’d reckon her guilty.

  He alerted Alastair with a glance. His cousin turned his attention to their pretty woman. An eyebrow went up.

  “You been up to something that we should know about?” Max asked.

  The slight hesitation in her stride and the tiny hunch of her shoulders shouted the answer. “I’m female. I’m always up to things.”

  “Of course you are.” Alastair pointed to a clear space inside the roped-off scene area. “Kneel there.”

  As she sank to her knees, eyes still down, Max frowned. Every muscle in her body was tense.

  Well, whatever she’d done, they’d figure it out and deal. “Good thing we lock our bags,” he told Alastair in a low voice. H
e pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Want to use your leather cuffs tonight? They fit her better than mine do.”

  “Agreed.” Alastair unlocked his bag and rummaged through it. His hand stilled. “Bloody hell.”

  Max stared down into his own bag. “Seriously?”

  A glance at Uzuri showed she hadn’t moved. Gaze down. The hands on her thighs were clenched. Little mischief was worried. As she should be.

  Spotting a cluster of Shadowkittens, he said quietly, “We got company, cuz.” Some Doms were gathering as well. Well, hell.

  He looked at his bag again. His sturdy leather cuffs had been swapped with a cutesy pink set. With rhinestones.

  Alastair lifted his exchange—blue with silvery paisley patterns.

  Max’s ropes looked like an artistic macramé job.

  Alastair pulled out his flogger. Same artist.

  Beneath the ropes, Max found the grand prize. “His” brown-haired, beard-shadowed doll wore jeans, a white button-up shirt, boots, and a police belt complete with holstered pistol and nightstick. The jeans were open and pulled down far enough to accommodate the doll’s balls and giant—erect—dick. The cock and testicles were lashed together in a genitorture device made of tiny chains that would impress even sadistic Mistress Anne.

  He could swear he felt his balls shriveling, and a chuckle escaped him.

  Alastair’s deep laugh rang out as he motioned to his bearded replica in the bag. The doll wore a lab coat—and nothing else. A tiny stethoscope was knotted around the big black erection.

  Max eyed the dolls’ cocks. She’d even gotten the proportions correct. His thicker; Alastair’s longer. “Jesus. Show and tell time?”

  “Might as well. So they understand her crime.” Still grinning, Alastair held up the two dolls.

  Laughter swept the entire area.

  “Gotta say, we were warned,” Max muttered.

  Alastair set the doll back into his bag. “By more than a few. I thought we’d taken adequate precautions. You checked your bag before we left, didn’t you?”

Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]