Make Me, Sir

Chapter Sixteen

When Gabi walked into the Shadowlands that Friday, apprehension crept up her spine. How would the Masters treat her now?

She spotted Agent Rhodes sitting at the end of the bar and snickered at his glare. Had Vance or Galen taken him down a peg? Or maybe the fact that they hadn’t reprimanded her torqued his jaw. She veered to avoid him and headed for the other end of the bar, where Master Raoul talked with the big bartender.

“Ah, if it isn’t our wayward trainee.” Raoul smiled at her, his dark eyes warm.

She flushed, remembering how he’d held her…and how rudely she’d behaved afterward. “Good evening, Master Raoul…oh, Master of the Universe,” she amended quickly. Damn these doms for making it so easy to forget her role.

“Master of the Universe? That doesn’t sound too bad.” Cullen leaned an arm on his bar and grinned. “So how do I get greeted, little sub?”

“Well…” He was baiting her. Deliberately. She tried to forget that he’d put a ball gag on her for being mouthy and raised her voice so the people seated around the bar could hear her. “You know how really big guys are always nicknamed Tiny?” She didn’t wait for any response, afraid she’d chicken out. “Guess that would make you Master Munchkin, huh?”

Raoul choked on his beer, sputtering so hard Gabi helpfully slapped him on the shoulders. Several times, although his back felt like a concrete wall.

Success-now she had two doms glaring at her, and Andrea stood behind Cullen, hands over her mouth, trying to smother her laughter and failing miserably.

The other reactions around the bar varied. Some of the doms grinned. A few looked displeased, their expressions similar enough to her father’s that she retreated a step as her backbone of oak turned to willow.

“Is this trainee acting out again?” At the sound of Marcus’s soft drawl, excitement replaced her dread. She started to spin, only to have him yank her back against his body. His hard chest pressing against hers and his unbending strength somehow emptied her mind like someone had opened a drain.

“Impertinent submissive,” Raoul snapped, and his dark brown eyes turned mean. “Nothing new for this one. You’re doing a lousy job of bringing her to heel, Marcus.”

“Bring me to heel? Like I’m a dog?” Without thinking, Gabi instinctively yanked away and snapped out, “Bite me.”

“I’d say she does need to be brought to heel.” Marcus’s blue eyes chilled. “Cullen, do you still have the toys Margery left?”

Cullen laughed, loud and strong. Her stomach sank. Dammit, she’d only arrived a few minutes ago. A little warm-up would have been nice.

He rummaged in the shelves under the bar, and she felt a glimmer of hope. Considering how much junk he had stored, maybe he wouldn’t-

“Bingo.” He shoved a brown paper sack across the bar to Marcus.

“Is there a problem here?” Master Z strolled up to the bar.

Oh God, they’re conglomerating. Nooo.

“Afraid so, Z,” Raoul said, pulling the sack closer. He smiled at her. “Lose the clothes, subbie.”

“No way. I’ve only had this on a half an hour,” she protested without moving. “I like this dress.”

Marcus lifted her chin. “You’ve been disrespectful to the doms and disobedient. Since a spanking didn’t work, let’s see if humiliation will incite you to more attractive behavior.”

The relentless look in his eyes and the controlled power in his voice turned her body into a forge of heat, melting her bones. It took a minute for the meaning of his words to catch up. Wait, wait, wait. Humiliation?

He pulled her closer and unzipped her skintight, black latex dress. Her skin seemed to yearn toward him, and as if he knew, he slid his fingers under the material and fondled her breasts. He held her gaze as he touched her, rubbing his thumbs in circles over her nipples until the peaks bunched painfully and a tremor of need shook her body.

“There we go,” he said. “All warmed up and ready for action.”

What kind of action? The nipple clamps came to mind, and she tried to take a step back.

He pulled the dress over her head. “I’ve always preferred my subs naked anyway.”

His strong hands held her waist firmly, warm against her skin, and she stared up, bathed in the clear blue of his eyes. Every time she looked at him, the world seemed to slip sideways.

Then she shook her head. Get over it. She saw Raoul pick up her dress and hand it to Cullen. Naked, dammit. Even worse, she had a hunch they’d barely started.

Marcus took a dog collar off the bar and buckled it around her neck. The controlled heat in his eyes pinned her far more securely than any restraint. Something shook deep inside, like an earthquake so far below the surface that nothing moves above.

“I like seeing you in a collar,” he said softly. His fingers checked the fit, tracing along the edge of the leather. Arousal bloomed in her body as if he’d touched her pussy instead, and he smiled into her eyes and ran his fingers the other direction.

He slid fur mittens over her hands, fastening small buckles, which would prevent her from removing them unless she used her teeth. Furry mittens. A collar. Her stomach tightened as she began to suspect what they planned. “Bite me.” She’d made a really poor choice of words.

Marcus took a hair comb from the bag, displayed the brown, furry ovals hanging from each side, and slid it into her hair. He adjusted it so the furry…ears…dangled against her cheeks.

She stared at him in horror-they actually planned to dress her up like a dog. A floppy-eared dog. Fury rolled through her. Spanking was one thing, this was… “You sorry-ass bastard, you are not going to do this!”

She heard laughter around her. Then Master Marcus yanked her off her feet and flattened her on the bar. Her bare stomach lay on the cool, polished wood, and her legs dangled over the side. He leaned against the backs of her thighs, immovable and heavy, and patted her bottom. “You might could be less sassy, sugar.”

Cullen tossed Marcus something, and she heard paper tear. “That’s a fine size,” Marcus said approvingly.

Oh no. Oh God. The last time he’d set her in this position-

“Raoul, if you would?” Marcus said.

“My pleasure.” Raoul’s hard hands pulled the cheeks of her bottom apart. Cold liquid dripped into the crack.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she yelled, struggling to pull away.

The weight on her legs increased. Something touched her anus. Marcus made a little circle around the rim with the slick lube, and nerves jolted awake and fired straight to her pussy. “Easy, sugar. Push back so it doesn’t hurt.”

“You bastard, I-”

A slap across her bottom silenced her. “I do believe you’re trying my patience, sugar.” Without mercy, Marcus slowly pushed the anal plug in. Bigger than before, burning as it stretched her, and she moaned and squirmed.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape. And then, with the feel of Marcus’s body pinning her to the bar, his fingers warm between her ass checks, and his determined invasion of even her most private place, she surrendered completely. It was as if his use of that area reinforced his rights over her as effectively as putting a collar on her. As her will to fight disappeared, she looked over her shoulder at him. He was watching her intently. When her yielding gaze met his, his eyes fired with possessiveness.

For long moments, he held her transfixed until he finally looked away, breaking the spell.

She hauled in a shuddering breath, recalled to her surroundings. She realized she was wet between her legs from more than the lubricant, and her body craved, screamed for him to touch her there. To take her. In front of everyone? Oh God, was she insane? I’m on a bar. Exposed. How could this possibly turn her on? Unable to bear the humiliation, she started to struggle again.

Raoul’s hands tightened.

Then it was in; the pain stopped. She felt a slight tug at the plug that made her jerk. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Raoul holding a long fuzzy…tail.

The damn thing had a tail attached. I’m going to kill them. Kill them all.

“What do you think, Master Z?” Marcus asked politely, wiggling the plug, undoubtedly to watch her wiggle.

She did.

“She does make a pretty puppy, Master Marcus,” Z said, amusement clear in his smooth, deep voice. Damn you, Z.

“Yes, she does.” Marcus patted her bottom and ordered, “Open for me, Gabrielle.”

She didn’t want to, not here, but oh she wanted his hands on her. She spread her thighs and gasped as he set his hand against her pussy. “A nice wet start,” he murmured. “Let’s make this more fun for you.” He slid his fingers between her folds and over her clit, deliberately arousing her until her sex ached with need, until her mind emptied of anything except his touch.

He patted her bottom. “Now kneel for me.”

“On the bar?”

“On the bar.” He lifted and steadied her as she knelt on the polished wood. Her butt rested on her heels, and the plug shifted every time she did, keeping her nerves far too awake. Her pussy throbbed. As she stared at the grinning faces around the bar, the fake ears flapped against her cheeks.

“Lie down, puppy.” Marcus patted the wood.

She considered refusing, but God knew what he’d come up with next. And she had done enough bucking orders for the moment. She bent over, resting her forearms in front of her knees. She stared down at the wood of the bar. Cullen liked to polish it, she remembered, seeing her reflection in the glossy finish. And now they’d put her on top of it, naked. Humiliation seemed somehow worse than getting walloped. And it was lonely. Really lonely.

Marcus pulled her sideways to the edge of the bar until her shoulder rested against his. The warmth of his body hardly registered, dropping into the big well of unhappiness inside her. “Look at me, Gabrielle.”

She didn’t move.

With an exasperated sound, he turned toward her, setting his hands on each side of her face.

She looked up at his strong jaw, his unsmiling mouth, intent eyes.

“Li’l sub.” He stroked her hair, tugged on one floppy ear. His voice dropped low. “Sweetheart, Galen and Vance wanted at least one punishment tonight that involves the other doms and keeps you front and center. This is what I came up with. I’d hoped a few insults from Raoul would get you riled up, but you only needed one.”

He’d set it up? “You want to humiliate me?”

“I chose the scene for several reasons, Gabi. For one, you’ll have the attention of pretty much the whole bar. For two…” His lips tightened, and his eyes darkened as if clouds had covered a summer sky. “None of us can bear to beat on you, darlin’. Not hard enough to make it realistic.”

The knot in her stomach loosened slightly. “Oh.”

“The third reason…” He ran his knuckles gently over her cheek, and she felt the scrape of his scars and calluses. “You wanted to find out if you could handle more than one man touching you. Do you remember?”

“I…” At his house. She had wondered what might trigger a flashback. “I did, didn’t I?”

“In this way, I can watch and control what happens and also make it clear there’s nothing going on between us.”

Nothing between us. The words made her heart squeeze. She pushed the ragged sense of loss aside. Galen and Vance had said Marcus might have an occasional scene with her, but not every scene. He was just following orders. And trying to fullfill her wishes. “I see. Okay.” She hauled in a breath. “I can handle the embarrassment.”

“I’m beginning to think you can handle just about anything,” he murmured, and the respect in his voice almost undid her right then and there. “Your safe word is…?”

“Red.”

“You can use yellow if you’re getting a little overwhelmed and need a break but still want to continue.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “You will use your safe words, Gabrielle, if it gets to be too much. No heroics.”

“Yes, Sir.” He cared. The warmth running through her wasn’t arousal this time.

“Good.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Kneel up.”

She straightened back into a normal kneeling position. He gave her a nod and a loud order. “Puppy. Stay.”

He left her sitting on top of the bar, a floppy-eared dog, and heat rose in her face as she realized she’d become the center of attention for the entire bar. But instead of derision, she heard approving murmurs, compliments on her breasts, her ass, how sexy she looked. Although the doms sounded amused, it was a friendly amusement, and the sting of humiliation disappeared.

As Marcus talked to Master Z, Master Cullen wandered closer, carrying the makings for a drink. The huge bartender set everything on the counter a few feet from her, gave her a wink, and started mixing the ingredients.

If she was a puppy, then he was a guard dog. Marcus left nothing to chance.

“Gentlemen.” Marcus raised his voice for the bar area, not loud enough to disturb the scenes around the perimeter of the room. “This li’l Irish setter puppy is in obedience school. She can growl, whine, whimper, or yelp. Nothing else.” His eyes met hers, checking that she understood.

She nodded.

“Her name is Gabi or Puppy, nothing else. Anyone using derogatory language to my puppy will be escorted from the bar.”

He wasn’t taking any chances with them saying her trigger words. The fact that he’d remembered, that he cared felt…good.

One of the doms close to her said sarcastically, “And will the fancy suit do the escorting if they don’t want to go?”

An older dom snorted. “Atherton uses the word escort loosely. The last time someone messed with a trainee, he threw the guy across the bar. Strolled over, waited for the idiot to stand up, punched his lights out, and dragged him by his jacket collar out of the place. Escorted him, my ass. Didn’t even wrinkle that fancy suit.” He took a sip of his beer and added, “Atherton is invariably polite, but nobody in their right mind fucks with his trainees.”

Marcus waited until the noise diminished. “She’s going to make a circle of the bar, showing off the commands she has learned. Since she’s a little slow, her only commands are: come, sit, lie, stand, and stay. Please pet her if she’s a good puppy; swat her hind end if she disobeys.”

Oh. My God. Surely he meant for her to walk around the bar…not crawl on it. Didn’t he?

He chuckled. “I do mean to say that in this case, come means crawl over here, not have an orgasm for me.” As laughter ran about the bar, he edged between two seated men, gave her a level look, and snapped his fingers. “Puppy, come.”

He meant for her to crawl. She stared at him and shook her head. No. Right this minute, her orders to act defiant merged completely with her inclination. No way. And since she sat on her bottom, no one would be…

Someone swatted her upper thigh hard enough to sting. “Ow!” She jerked around.

Master Dan had pushed between a couple of the men. “Growl, whine, whimper, or yelp,” he reminded her and slapped her thigh again, lighter this time.

Goddammit. She lifted her upper lip and snarled at him. I hate you, and if you hit me one more time, I’ll bite you.

Amusement lit in his brown eyes, and he grinned. She stared in shock. Stone Face was human?

“Go, sweetie,” he said softly and jerked his head.

Crawl. She gave a long, loud sigh and started down the bar. The anal plug sent little nerves pinging inside her, and the fluffy tail brushed against the back of her thighs with each movement.

Why did Master Z have such a big bar? Doms reached out and patted her butt. One raised his voice, a sound like a gravel truck on a bad day. “Puppy, lie down.”

She glanced over. Master Nolan. She hesitated. Marcus had said come. Only he’d disappeared. Her hesitation earned her a light swat on the rear and a firmer, “Lie down.”

She crouched, arms resting on the wood.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. He ran his hand down her bare back, her arm. “Don’t you agree, gentlemen?”

Other hands reached out, and she jerked as they touched her.

“Easy, Gabi,” his rough voice murmured, his hand wrapping around her arm, less to restrain her than to support her. Shaking inside, she stared at him, saw the way he studied her with dark, dark eyes, and she knew Marcus had explained the purpose for the puppy play. As a gray-haired dom patted her bottom and another stroked her ribs, she found her breathing had steadied. She wasn’t alone here.

Nolan gave her an approving smile and stepped away.

Down the bar, Master Raoul leaned forward. “Come, Puppy.”

She almost smiled. So Marcus had hedged his bet, planting the Masters both to help her and to demonstrate to the doms what he’d allow. Her heart lightened, and despite the way the ears flopped against her face and the weird tail brushed her thighs, she did a bouncy crawl down the bar to Raoul.

His teeth flashed white in the dark skin. “Pretty puppy. Sit.”

She planted her butt on her heels and jumped when it pushed the plug deeper. This was just too weird. Her heart still hammered from fear, her face burned from embarrassment, and yet she was wet between the legs. Aroused? God help me. She settled more carefully into position.

“Bueno,” Raoul said and ran his hand down her arm, glancing at the men next to him. “Pet the puppy and show her she’s a good girl,” he said.

Hands seemed to come from everywhere, stroking her bottom, her thighs, her back.

Then Raoul, with a firm grip on her arm, cupped her breast.

She jerked and whined.

“Shhh, Puppy,” he said, and his eyes held the same watchful intelligence as Nolan’s as he stroked her breasts, the calluses on his fingers scraping lightly over her nipples. The other men kept touching her. Too many hands.

She whimpered, her fingers clenching together, fear rising inside her like the tide.

“Gabi, look up,” Raoul said in a low voice.

When she turned to him, he tilted his head to the right.

Several feet farther down, Master Marcus stood at the bar. His eyes held blue fire, his gaze almost palpable, silently reassuring her that nothing horrible would happen.

He hadn’t left her. He’d keep her safe. She relaxed.

He smiled, and then his gaze ran over her, lingering on her breasts, her slightly open thighs, before returning to her face. The heat in his eyes seared her.

God, she wanted him.

He glanced at Raoul and nodded. As Raoul started stroking her breasts again, Marcus watched, his attention increasing her awareness of how Raoul’s broad fingers pinched her nipples, of someone tugging her tail, another massaging her bottom. Excitement rose inside her. Under his gaze, everything seemed to change as if each man’s hands were his…as if it was him touching her.

Raoul chuckled, pulling her attention to him. “That’s much better. Stand, Puppy.”

Her breasts swung, swollen and heavy, as she took the crawl stance. At the far end of the bar, Master Sam snapped his fingers. “Come here, Puppy.”

She set off down the bar. Halfway there, she felt a hard pinch on her thigh and yelped in surprise and pain.

Rhodes grinned at her nastily-and then Cullen grabbed the agent’s hand and slammed it onto the bar. “Since you can’t follow instructions, I suggest you step away from the bar,” Cullen growled. “Now.”

Rhodes scrambled away so fast he tripped on the bar stool and almost fell.

“Sorry, Pup.” Cullen leaned an arm on the bar and smiled at Gabi.

Giving him a grateful look, she licked his knuckles and wiggled her butt hard enough to make her tail swing.

His laughter should have shaken the bar. He pointed to the end of the bar. “Keep going, Pup. You don’t want to piss off Master Sam.”

Giggling, she headed down the bar, actually enjoying the little pats from the various doms, the murmured, “Pretty puppy.” “She’s adorable.” “Is Marcus letting her scene yet?”

Maybe this punishment wasn’t so bad after all.

When she reached Master Sam, he pointed to the bar. “Sit, Pup, and stay.”

She eyed him and had a thought. She needed to act up again, but Marcus said the Masters felt bad about punishing her. Master Sam was a sadist, so he’d do okay with it, right? Instead of sitting, she growled and bit his wrist. Very, very gently, but a definite bite. He gave a startled shout and yanked his hand away. “You little-” He caught himself and snapped, “Bad puppy.”

One look at his menacing expression and she decided only a complete idiot would bite a sadist. She scrambled past him as fast as her hands and knees could manage.

He grabbed her ankle, pulling her mercilessly back down the bar. She whined.

“Let’s try this again.” His growl came out a lot lower than hers as he yanked her to the edge of the bar. He put his right arm under her pelvis, holding her butt up, and gripped her thigh. She had a second to realize how he’d secured her, and then his hand hit her bottom. Hard.

She managed to change her scream into a yelp. Three brutal swats and her bottom burned with pain. One more and her eyes filled with tears.

He released her and snapped, “Now sit, dammit.”

She started to, until her tender ass cheeks touched her heels, and she almost didn’t. Very carefully she lowered her butt. Hopefully the bad guy had seen her wonderful defiance and punishment so it wouldn’t be wasted. That had really, really hurt.

He nodded, his eyes still icy. “No petting for you. You don’t deserve any.”

The doms around him made sounds of disappointment. Sam stared at her for a minute, then leaned forward and fisted her hair. She cringed when he bent forward, but he whispered in her ear, his voice a rasp, “It so happens that I only like hurting people who want the pain. I didn’t enjoy that, girl.”

When he let go, she saw the tense muscles in his cheeks. He’d meant it. Oh hell. Guilt stabbed deep inside her. Weren’t doms supposed to be tougher than this? She gave him an apologetic whine and pawed his hand with her furry mitten.

One corner of his mouth turned up, and his eyes lightened a little. “Off you go, pup, and behave.”

Holt called her down the bar next, and he simply gave her a command and kept her long enough for everyone to pet her. Then she went to an older dom with gray peppering his hair. Between them, she watched for Marcus. He moved from place to place, staying in front of her, staying within sight. And his smoldering gaze transformed each dom’s touch to something erotic. She grew increasingly wet. Aroused.

Dammit.

As she neared the end and veered around some glasses, she heard: “Li’l puppy.” A baritone with a southern accent like warm sunshine. Marcus.

Standing at the end of the bar, he snapped his fingers. “Come here, Puppy,” he said.

Relief washed over her, followed by a wave of excitement. She crawled to him and whined, pawing at his arm with one mittened hand.

Cupping her face, he regarded her for a long moment. The pad of his thumb traced her lower lip. “Almost over, sugar,” he murmured for her ears only, “then you’ll get a break. Are you up to playing a brat in a threesome?”

She cringed. Strangers taking her. Two strangers. Her heart sank.

He must have seen, for the sun lines beside his eyes deepened. “With me, darlin’. And Raoul. You did request it.”

Oh my God. Marcus and Raoul? She inhaled sharply, need and uncertainly mingling inside her. Taking refuge in her act, she barked a couple of times. Then bit his hand.

His uncontrolled bellow of laughter sent chills all the way down her spine and had her lips curving up. Dammit. No smiling. I’m a brat. When he reached for her, she grabbed the sleeve of his suit in her teeth and shook her head, growling.

“What in the-”

Planting her mittened hands, she tugged. Serve him right if she put holes in his suit.

“Bad puppy.” He swatted her sore bottom, pulling his sleeve away when she yelped. Her butt started burning all over again. She growled at him.

He chuckled, picked her up, and slung her over his shoulder, knocking the air right out of her. He anchored her with one hand…and the other fondled her sore bottom.

When she whined, he laughed. “I like seeing you all pink-assed, sugar.”

He set her down on a long wooden coffee table beside his already open toy bag. “Stay, Puppy.”

Oh, man. She gave him an uncertain look, then waited on hands and knees. Me. With two men. Her heart rate increased. When boots appeared in her line of vision, she lifted her head to see Raoul.