Spring Training

by Roz Lee

He was conscious of her breathing heavily beneath him. He needed to get off her. He must be hurting her, given the condition of her back. Placing one hand on the table beside her, he prepared to move as gently as possible, so as not to cause her any more pain.

  “Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  He let his weight press against her again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “It hurts good. So good.”

  “I know all about hurting good, babe.” He smiled, despite his concerns for her comfort. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

  “’kay.” One of her hands was pressed flat to the table beside her face. Her fingers curled and uncurled. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Missed you, too. Never again, Brooke. I won’t be apart from you that long ever again.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Is it okay if I move now, Sir?”

  He kissed her shoulder before lifting his weight from her. “Yes.” As she stood, her legs gave way. Todd caught her in his arms.

  “Bring her in here.”

  Todd’s gaze jerked from the woman in his arms to the other person in the room. He’d forgotten all about Mistress Lola’s presence until she spoke.

  She stood near an open door, one he’d never been invited through. “She’s in no shape to go home.”

  Looking down at Brooke’s pale complexion, he knew the woman was right. His slave had been through every level of hell tonight.

  “She needs food and water,” he said, skirting through the open door with his charge. “And something for her back.”

  “Put her on the bed on her stomach. I’ll get the salve.” A minute later, she handed him a jar of ointment. “Spread this on the welts. Take your time. A few minutes extra to avoid causing her any more pain won’t make a difference in how long it takes her to heal.”

  He brought the jar to his nose. “What’s in this stuff?”

  “It’s my own blend. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you later. Get busy, sub. I’ll be back in a few minutes with food.” She disappeared down a narrow hallway, leaving them alone in the surprisingly cozy room.

  He dipped his fingers into the jar, scooping up a generous amount of the white goo inside. “This is probably going to sting,” he said by way of apology.

  When he spread the first glob over the welts on her shoulder, Brooke sucked in a sharp breath.

  He stopped. “It hurts that much?”

  “No. It’s cold!”

  He smiled. “Ah, well, nothing I can do about that right now.” He dropped another sizeable scoop in the middle of her back.

  “Bastard.” He heard the smile in her voice and chose not to take offense at the appellation. He was that and more for putting her through tonight’s scene.

  “I’m sorry, Brooke. If I’d had any idea….” He couldn’t find the words.

  She pushed up on one elbow, turning her gaze on him. “Don’t be sorry, Master. The whipping was unpleasant, but I wouldn’t change a thing about tonight.”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  Her ponytail swayed as she moved her head from side to side. “No, Sir. That doesn’t mean I want to repeat the punishment, but it did help me to see things more clearly.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Would you mind if we talked about them later, Sir? Right now, I just want to feel your hands on me.” She dropped back down, presenting her striped backside to him again.

  Stunned by her admission, he resumed coating her skin with the aromatic goo. “You’re a remarkable woman, Brooke. I would spare you any pain if I could.”

  “I know, Sir. But it really isn’t necessary.”

  Mistress Lola returned, entering through the same passageway she’d used earlier. She’d donned a long, black robe that looked as if it were a favorite, given the worn satin edging on the lapels. She brought an insulated tumbler with a straw and a plate filled with grapes, bite-sized chunks of cheese, and an assortment of crackers.

  “Finger food,” she said to him. “Feed her first, then you can have whatever is left over.” Crouching beside the bed, she held the straw to Brooke’s lips. “Water with vitamins added. Drink it all, or you aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Brooke’s lips closed obediently over the straw. When she was done, Mistress Lola stood, setting the bottle on the bedside table.

  “This room is for aftercare.” Her arm swept in an arc. “Everything you could possibly need is here. Help yourself.” She pointed to the hallway. “My apartment is through there. I’m going to shower then I’ll be back to check on Brooke. Don’t leave.”

  He couldn’t imagine his slave going anywhere in her present condition. “More water?” He reached for the tumbler when the other woman had gone.

  “I’m starving. Can I have something to eat, Sir?”

  He wiped his hand on a towel he found next to a sink in one corner of the room. “My hands smell.”

  “Just hand me the plate. I can feed myself.” She was up on both elbows now, eyeing the food.

  He placed the offering in front of her and went back to tending the angry lines left by the whipping.

  “I could really use a slice of chocolate mousse cake right now.” She popped a grape in her mouth.

  “If I knew where to get it for you, I would.” I’ll do anything for you.

  “No worries. I’ll make one tomorrow if you don’t mind me using your kitchen, Sir.” She popped a cube of yellow cheese in her mouth, talking as she chewed. “You can’t trust chocolate mousse to amateurs.”

  He smiled. “I don’t suppose you can. Feel free to use my kitchen if you’re up to it, but I don’t want you overdoing it.”

  She craned her head around to look at him. The love in her eyes would have felled him if he’d been standing. “I won’t, Sir. I promise. I would never do anything that would keep me from serving you as I should.”

  He was grateful for the towel he’d draped over his lap. He went hard as a post just from hearing her wish to serve him. I don’t deserve you.

  “I know you wouldn’t.” He cut his eyes to the plate in front of her. “Eat, slave. You’re going to need your strength.” Because I’m going to fuck you day and night for the rest of my life.

  She’d eaten almost the entire plate of food and drank most of the water by the time he finished coating the marks on the back of her calves. He’d used nearly the entire jar, or he would have begun again on her shoulders.

  “How’s your girl doing?” Mistress Lola strode in, wearing snug-fitting black jeans and a white button-down shirt. She’d let her hair down from the severe ponytail she’d scened with. Her long, dark hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, nearly to the small of her back. She’d removed the dramatic makeup in favor of barely-there cosmetics, making her appear younger. It was a look he’d seen before, but Brooke sat up so fast, she winced.

  “Holy shit! You’re beautiful.” She turned a scowling face at him.

  Smiling at her jealous outburst, he held up a staying hand. “Hold on there, pet. She’s nothing compared to you.” He wrapped a sticky hand around the back of her head, slipping her ponytail between his fingers to hold her steady for a kiss that was all about possession. Reluctantly drawing back, he looked into her eyes. “There’s only you, Brooke. Always and forever.”

  Her gaze held his while he willed her to trust his words. “I know,” she said, releasing him from the prison of her hesitation. “But she is gorgeous, Sir. Only a eunuch wouldn’t notice.”

  He shrugged. “I’m no eunuch. I noticed, but I can control my urges—” He brought her face near, brushing his lips over hers. “—except where you’re concerned. I have no discipline when it comes to you.”

  They sat that way, nose-to-nose, until Mistress Lola cleared her throat. “Okay, enough.”

  He let Brooke go. She grimaced as she sat back on her tush.

  “Babe,” he said, reaching for her.

  “I’m fine, Sir.”
She shifted again. “The pain isn’t unbearable, and it reminds me. I like it.” The last words were nothing more than a whisper.

  “Here.” The woman who’d put the marks on Brooke’s body came forward, holding out a blanket. “Wrap this around your shoulders.”

  Todd helped her cover herself, only then realizing he was still naked. He’d been too concerned about Brooke to even notice.

  “I’ll stay with your slave. Why don’t you shower and dress?”

  “Brooke?” He lifted an eyebrow in question.

  “I’ll be fine, Sir.” She waved him away. “Hurry back.”

  He hated leaving her, but he had no choice. He’d be gone a few minutes at best. With a promise to return as quickly as possible, he left his most precious possession in the hands of the woman who’d beaten her not two hours before.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Let me see your back.” Brooke didn’t even consider disobeying although the command was issued in a caring manner. “I just want to make sure your Master was thorough.”

  “He was thorough, Mistress.” She giggled, remembering his hands on her and his cock inside her. “He always is.”

  “I’m not talking about that, slave.” Her touch was gentle as she tested the abraded skin. “Though it did appear his examination of your pussy was complete.”

  She felt her skin heat, remembering they’d had an audience. “He explored every inch, Mistress.”

  “Did he cleanse you?” She parted the folds of the blanket, her fingers finding Brooke’s pussy, wet and exposed by her cross-legged position.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Would you like me to do it?”

  Brooke’s breath caught in her lungs. She looked up into Mistress Lola’s eyes. The lust she saw there was foreign to her. The woman’s fingers slicked through the layers of her sex, finding her opening. Her touch was nothing more than a flutter compared to Master Todd’s explorations.

  “You tasted me. I’d like to taste you.”

  An entire hive of bees buzzed around in her head. She couldn’t think past the gentle fingers working her pussy to a soaking frenzy. “Master Todd.” No sooner had the name passed her lips than the exquisite touch was gone. “I belong to him.”

  “Wise of you to remember, girl. I won’t do it unless he approves.” Her gaze heated Brooke’s skin. “Would you like me to offer?”

  “You would ask him to…to…?”

  “To eat your pussy? Yes. If you want me to.”

  A chill racked her body. She’d never…. But she’d gone down on the woman earlier, enjoyed it…. Because she knew how much her Master would like it. He’d suggested setting up a scene for her several times, and she’d always said no. But that was before. Now she understood there was nothing she couldn’t or wouldn’t do for Todd. She trusted him to guide her, to help her explore her sexuality within safe parameters.

  Mistress Lola put her fingers beneath Brooke’s nose. “Smell yourself on me. Your honey is a mixture of both of you. Let me cleanse you, slave.”

  Brooke turned her head away, but not before she inhaled the spicy scent she knew so well. “You know I have no choice if my Master demands it.”

  “Yes, I know. But I’m asking you first. I think you want to feel my tongue on you. I think you want to feel my lips and teeth feasting on your pussy. Tell me if I’m mistaken. I won’t take offense. You can trust me, Brooke. I would never betray you.”

  She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Then my answer is no.”

  As the words tumbled from her lips, her pussy clenched at the lie. Dropping her chin, she prayed the woman would honor her vow and remain quiet. If Todd knew how turned on she was by the proposition…. She didn’t want to go there. He was her life. She’d never do anything to upset him, and knowing how much she desired another’s touch would destroy him.

  “I brought your clothes.” Her Master rejoined them, looking for all the world as if he had just stepped off the pages of a Visit Arizona in the Spring advertisement. Dressed in loose chinos and a polo shirt, no one would ever guess what the man had just been through.

  “Thanks,” she said, moving to dangle her feet off the edge of the mattress.

  “I’ve got some yoga pants you can borrow,” Mistress Lola said. “You’ll need something to cover your legs until you get home.”

  Brooke nodded her agreement, and the other woman went off in search of the garment. “If I’d known….”

  “You couldn’t have known.” Todd handed her the Mustangs T-shirt she’d worn with her shorts earlier and held up her lacy bra. “I don’t think you should try wearing this.”

  “No. No bra for a while. I’m sure you won’t mind, will you?” She pulled the soft fabric over her head.

  “Not at all, babe. If I had my way, you’d be naked all the time.”

  Mistress Lola returned with the pants and knelt to help Brooke slide them over her feet. She waved the other woman away, then rose to pull them over her hips herself.

  “She’ll need a bath when you get her home.” She handed Todd a plastic grocery bag. “More salve. Enough to last the week. Put more on after her bath, then again in the morning. Twice a day. Call me if she isn’t better mid-week. Otherwise, I’ll see you on Friday.”

  Todd took the bag as Brooke slid her feet into her flip-flops. “Friday,” he confirmed.

  Brooke’s gaze cut to the woman who had so effectively dominated both her and her Master. Her pussy ached for everything she had promised. Guilt was a lead weight tied around her heart.

  “What do you say, slave?”

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “You’re welcome, Brooke. My card is in the bag. If you need to talk, call me. I’m available to both of you twenty-four/seven.”

  She wouldn’t call. Once she was away from the woman and the temptation she represented, her unwanted desire would fade. Her Master would never know she lusted for another.

  “We appreciate it, Mistress.”

  With Todd’s arm wrapped lightly around Brooke’s back ready to catch her if she began to fall, she took mincing steps toward the door.

  ***

  “Is Carrie still in town?” Todd asked, catching up to Jason Holder as he left the Mustangs’ training facility a few days later.

  “Yeah. I think she’s leaving next week sometime. Why?”

  “I was wondering if you would like to bring her to dinner at my place tomorrow night after our game.”

  Jason halted, turning an assessing gaze on Todd. “I can do that. Not that I don’t find you and your…?”

  Todd glanced around, making sure they were alone. “Slave. She’s my slave.”

  “Not that I don’t find you and your slave good company, but what’s this about, Todd?”

  The man’s perception reminded Todd why he hated catchers. Observation was one of their primary skills. Jason was better than most at it, which accounted for his ranking as one of the best catchers ever to play the game.

  Todd rested his hands on his hips, his gaze on the gravel parking lot. “I don’t know. I told you about leaving her with Frank, and you know how that turned out. Well, there’s more. I don’t want to get into it out here. Can you just come to dinner and not ask any more questions until then?”

  “What time?”

  “I don’t know. After the game? Brooke won’t be coming to the stadium.” The marks on her legs were still too prominent to wear shorts, and it was too damned hot to wear anything else. “I’ll have her start dinner so we can eat early.”

  “Sounds good. Until tomorrow.”

  Todd continued to his car, breathing easier now that he’d taken action. Since their scene with Mistress Lola, his slave had been exemplary in every way. That shouldn’t have been a problem, but it was. And for some reason, Brooke’s recent behavior seemed more of a problem to him than the one that had set them on this course of training in the first place.

  Brooke wasn’t being herself. He hoped she would open up to Carrie, who was also a s
ub, though not a slave. The two women had been friends before they met their Masters, so if Brooke was going to talk to anyone, it would be Jason’s sub.

  If that didn’t work, he’d have no choice but to consult with Mistress Lola, but something told him that wasn’t a good idea. He couldn’t put his finger on it. The other night, when he’d returned from his shower, the tension in the aftercare room had been thicker than the humidity on a summer day in Dallas. Brooke’s smile had dimmed from a brilliant afterglow to a wary flicker.

  The marks on her body were fading, but it was as if her spirit grew fainter in tandem. It made no sense. He’d been careful with her, applying the salve Mistress Lola sent as instructed. Because of Brooke’s condition, he’d been gentle with her when he made love to her. At first, he hadn’t wanted to use her body at all, afraid to cause her more pain, but she assured him she was fine. He’d always loved marking her, but he’d never done so in such a thorough manner. He still got hard thinking about that night and how brave his slave had been.

  But the bloom was off the rose, so to speak, and he needed to know why. He could beat the information out of her, but with fresh stripes still covering her, he wasn’t inclined to go that route. Bringing Carrie in was a safer, saner option. With a little luck, the move wouldn’t appear the desperate attempt to reach her that it was.

  If his plan didn’t work, he had no idea what to do next. His performance on the field was suffering. Too many late nights. Too much stress. Coming to training camp with muscles so tight from extreme scenes the night before, he could hardly move, much less play baseball. He lived on over-the-counter pain meds, caffeine, and hot showers.

  He needed to get his personal life back in order, or his head would be on the chopping block, No-Trade clause or not. If a team didn’t want you, there were ways around the legal issues. Hell, if he didn’t get his shit together, he’d bench himself. The rest of the team didn’t deserve to have an old fart like him screwing up their chances at a winning season.

  ***

  “The skirt is fine,” he assured Brooke the following evening. “The marks on the back of your legs are barely there. Besides, there’s no need to hide our relationship from Jason and Carrie.”