Make Me, Sir Read online

  Masters of the Shadowlands 5:

  Make Me, Sir

  Cherise Sinclair

  http://www.loose-id.com

  Masters of the Shadowlands 5: Make Me, Sir

  Copyright © February 2011 by Cherise Sinclair All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  eISBN 978-1-60737-942-3

  Editor: G. G. Royale

  Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin

  Printed in the United States of America

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  PO Box 425960

  San Francisco CA 94142-5960

  www.loose-id.com

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author"s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC"s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.

  Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * *

  DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  Author’s Note

  To my readers,

  This book is fiction, not reality and, as in most romantic fiction, the romance is compressed into a very, very short time period.

  You, my darlings, live in the real world and I want you to take a little more time than the heroines you read about. Good Doms don't grow on trees and there's some strange people out there. So while you're looking for that special Dom, please, be careful.

  When you find him, realize he can't read your mind. Yes, frightening as it might be, you're going to have to open up and talk to him. And you listen to him, in return. Share your hopes and fears, what you want from him, what scares you spitless. Okay, he may try to push your boundaries a little—he's a Dom, after all—

  but you have your safeword. You will have a safeword, am I clear? Use protection.

  Have a back-up person. Communicate.

  Remember: safe, sane and consensual.

  Know that I'm hoping you find that special, loving person who will understand your needs and hold you close. Let me know how you're doing. I worry, you know.

  Meantime, come and hang out with the Masters of the Shadowlands.

  —Cherise

  [email protected]

  Chapter One

  Her eyes puffy from crying, mouth set with determination, Gabrielle Renard walked down the hallway of the FBI"s Miami field division, hunting for the correct office. There it was. She stopped and took a careful breath— I can do this—then straightened her shoulders and shoved the door open.

  It was a typically bland room with coffee-stained, brown carpeting and off-white walls, and the scent of sweat, coffee, and overly musky cologne sure didn"t help her stomach. A metal desk with a computer occupied the right side. On the left, two men sat at a small conference table, papers strewn across the surface.

  One had his back to her, and with dismay, she realized why the cologne smelled familiar. Agent Preston Rhodes. Only three or four inches over her five feet five, the pale, brown-haired creep had the whiny personality—and the morals—of the hyenas in The Lion King. During her one-month stint in Tampa last year, he"d even tried to coerce a victim"s sister into bed.

  The other man had black hair and eyes, an olive complexion, and deeply carved lines bracketing his mouth. He frowned at her and asked, “Can I help you?”

  in a clipped New England accent.

  Rhodes turned in his chair and scowled at her. “What are you doing here, Renard?” He glanced at the other man. “She"s a victim specialist with the Miami field office.”

  Ignoring him, Gabi spoke to the dark-haired agent. “Are you in charge of the investigation of the women kidnapped in Atlanta?”

  Renard glared. “What the—”

  The man silenced Renard with a look. “I"m Special Agent Galen Kouros. Why?”

  “I want to be one of the decoys.” And you’re going to let me.

  “Do you now? Just how did you happen to hear about them?” His icy voice sent an answering chill up her spine. She let her own anger wash through her.

  “One of the kidnapped women is a friend, and her mother called me after your visit.” Weeping hysterically, begging for help from Kim"s FBI friend. Gabi had driven to Atlanta for information from Kim"s mom and also the local FBI office.

  None of it had been good. Gabi looked away, blinking back tears. “I found out another young woman had been kidnapped and shot.”

  “The only details released to the news were that a woman had died of a gunshot wound on the freeway. How did you get more?” The agent leaned back in his chair, studying her.

  2

  Cherise Sinclair

  “There are rumors here and there.” Especially in the seething Atlanta field office. Not so easy here. But during her brief stay in Tampa, she"d discovered that one of the secretaries loved to gossip. She"d also told Gabi that Rhodes"s very appropriate nickname was Dickhead.

  Kouros pointed to a chair across from Rhodes. “Sit.”

  New Englanders could be so brusque. He needed to meet a southern gentleman and learn some civility. But she obediently took a seat.

  “Tell me what you know. All of it.”

  “A total of four women, including Kim, were kidnapped in Atlanta. All members of BDSM clubs. The last one escaped on a freeway by running out into oncoming traffic. She died of a gunshot wound before the ambulance arrived. But she managed to tell a trucker a few things.” She must have been in agony. Terrified.

  Gabi swallowed.

  “Go on,” Kouros snapped.

  “Apparently the kidnapper said more women were to be kidnapped in Tampa.”

  She frowned. “Um, the last delivery of women is August twenty-ninth, and then they"ll hold a slave auction.” They’ll sell Kim. She gathered her thoughts. “You"re putting female agents as decoys in four Tampa fetish clubs, hoping the kidnapper will target one.” It seemed a little far-fetched. Why would he go after them and not another woman in the club?

  “You"re remarkably well-informed.” He hadn"t moved as she talked, his stillness a contrast to Rhodes"s fidgeting. “I can see there are some loose tongues in this office.”

  Dickhead stiffened.

  Ignoring him, Kouros eyed Gabi. “What qualifications do you have for playing a decoy, Ms. Renard? I"ll admit you"re motivated—and because of that I doubt you can be objective. You"re the right age. You"re pretty enough, probably smart enough.

  But you"re not an agent; you"re support staff—a social worker. Why should I use you instead of an agent?”

  At first she hadn"t seen any way to help. She was a counselor, not a field agent.

  Then she"d checked the agents they planned to use. “It doesn"t matter if I"m objective or not. I"m not going to work the case, just play decoy. Second, you only have three agents for decoys, not four. As far as I know,
none have visited BDSM

  clubs before.”

  His face hardened at the further evidence of how much information she"d obtained, and she continued hurriedly, “I have experience.” A little and long ago, but who’s counting?

  He sat forward like a cat scenting a mouse. “You"re submissive?”

  She nodded.

  “You"re not seriously considering using her,” Rhodes burst out. “She"d blow the whole operation.”

  Masters of the Shadowlands 5: Make Me, Sir

  3

  As Kouros studied her, his gaze drifted over her face, lingered on her cheek.

  “How"d you get the scar?”

  The ugly memory sliced her as easily as the knife had sliced her flesh. Her hands fisted. “Wrong place during a gang war.” And she"d promised herself she"d never willingly get near violence again. How plans do change.

  “You"re braver than you appear.” Kouros actually smiled. “You might just do, Ms. Renard. As it happens, I need a decoy for the Shadowlands.”

  Rhodes stared at him. “You think you could get that asshole owner to admit her? She"s not an agent.”

  “Zachary Grayson had a good point. An inexperienced, nonsubmissive woman might manage to pass in a busy public place, but the members of his club wouldn"t be fooled.” Kouros turned to her again. “The Shadowlands is a private, very exclusive BDSM club outside Tampa. Assuming we can talk him into it, the owner will set you up as a trainee sub.”

  She opened her mouth to agree, but he held up his hand.

  “You"re missing one vital piece of information the victim gave us—and we confirmed. I want you to think twice before we go any further. You see, the kidnapper is targeting only blatantly rebellious submissives. Noisy ones. The buyers want the pleasure of breaking their spirits.”

  “No. That can"t—” No, not Kim. Her stomach twisted.

  Kouros"s face softened. “You"re not getting the point, Gabrielle. I"m talking about your involvement. The decoys will have to demonstrate disobedient, insolent behavior. If you"re familiar with the lifestyle, you know how a dom will react.”

  Gabi stiffened. Doms wouldn"t tolerate rudeness. They might just stop the scene and let the sub go—or might discipline her.

  “Ah. I see you know.” A corner of Kouros"s mouth rose. “Grayson says only a few Shadowlands doms like brats, so either you"d end up sitting alone with no chance to attract attention or he"d need to get you into the trainee program…which forces the trainer to deal with you, whether he wants to or not.”

  She nodded. To be dealt with. Her hands had gone clammy.

  “Another fact. Despite their protests, the club owners are sworn to secrecy, so aside from the owner and Rhodes, no one else there will know you"re playing a part.

  That includes the dom in charge of the trainees, who, according to Grayson, is a hard-ass when it comes to disrespectful submissives. Are you sure, Gabrielle?”

  She clasped her hands together, hoping to hide her trembling. Knowing she"d be setting herself up as a target for a murderer had terrified her so much she"d thrown up before leaving the motel.

  Now this. To beg for punishment from a dom who didn"t know she was playing a part? Oh God.

  But for Kim? All through college, Kim had shaken her awake from nightmares of the past, listened to her, comforted her. Now Kim was living in a nightmare.

  4

  Cherise Sinclair

  Gabi raised her chin. “I"m sure.”

  * * *

  Marcus Atherton walked into the Shadowlands entry and nodded at the domme and security guard across the small room. Down the center, his five trainee submissives knelt nicely in a line. He strolled around them, checking that clothing was neat, appropriate, and seductive. “Y"all look very nice tonight,” he said. “I"m proud of you.” Vivacious Sally, Goth Dara, and sweet, gay Austin had been there before he"d taken over the program last spring. After he and the owner, Z, had talked at length, they"d added Uzuri, with her gorgeous, chocolate-colored skin and the soul of a prankster, and a newer bisexual, Tanner, who wanted a mistress or a couple.

  “I will not be in charge of you this evening.” Z"s voice-mail message had requested that he free himself up tonight, but hadn"t said why. “So Mistress Olivia has kindly agreed to supervise y"all.”

  Their unhappy expressions warmed his dom"s heart. They"d become as attached to him as he was to them. When he saw mischief rising in Sally"s eyes, he added, “You best be nice to Mistress Olivia, or next time I"ll ask Mistress Anne to watch over you.”

  They actually paled.

  He had a mind to tell Anne—the sadistic mistress would enjoy their response immensely. “I"ll have an eye on all of you. Don"t let me down now.”

  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.”

  Masters of the Shadowlands 5: Make Me, Sir

  5

  “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, Mar
cus, 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 6

  Cherise Sinclair

  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.”