Show Me, Baby: A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella (1001 Dark Nights)

by Sinclair Cherise

The question dropped out of nowhere, a tornado ripping up her internal landscape and stealing her breath.

  She had no answer for him.

  He gave her time to respond and then shook his head, letting his disappointment in her silence show.

  Tears prickled her eyes.

  “If you don’t want to talk to me, I might as well use this.” After placing a squeaky toy in her fist, he gagged her with a black silicone pacifier. It wasn’t as gag inducing as the huge penis ones, but the soft roundness filled her mouth completely.

  Inhaling through her nose, she could smell Master Jake’s evergreen-forest cologne. It was like a hint of freshness in the rock and leather scent of the dungeon.

  “Bite down on the gag, if you need to,” he said calmly. “Use the squeaky toy to safeword—or when you’re ready to speak.”

  When. Not if.

  His palm was warm against her cheek as he bent. “You’re going to talk to me, sweetling. The only question is how much you’ll subject yourself to before that point.”

  At the terrifying determination in his voice, she involuntarily pulled at her straps, but she was completely restrained.

  He leaned his forearm on the table, his face inches from hers. The stern set of his jaw reminded her of the steely core beneath his usual charm. “I don’t know what’s happening in that head of yours, Rainie. But before this evening is over, we’re going to explore it, even if we journey back to your birth.”

  She bit down on the gag. No way would she talk about her horrendous childhood.

  “Total trust. Total submission. You’re one of the most honest people I know, Rainie. You wouldn’t renege on the bet.”

  Her mind went blank as she realized the depth of Master Z’s trap.

  When he paused, giving her a chance to respond, she told her fingers to squeak the toy, to talk to him. And everything in her stayed immobile.

  He waited another second before brushing his lips against hers. “Don’t worry, Rainie. You’re going to tell me everything.” His face was expressionless as he put a pair of sunglasses on her.

  The room turned dark. Even worse, the lenses curved like magnifying glasses, distorting the surroundings like funhouse mirrors, enlarging objects and people.

  “I’m going to fuck you eventually,” he said softly, “but first I’ll ensure the sensation is increased for both of us.”

  What did he mean? Was he planning to do chemical play?

  He positioned a rubbery-feeling circle above her clit, extending almost to her anus. He held it in place with one hand. With his other hand…

  The circle dug into her skin even as something seemed to pull on her clit and labia. There was another surge. The drawing sensation increased. And increased. And increased.

  Unsure if the device hurt her—or just scared her—she whimpered.

  “All right, I’ll leave it at this pressure for a while and see how you do.”

  Pressure. Her eyes widened. He had a pussy pump on her—a suction device. Now she recognized the feeling. It didn’t really quite hurt, but was extremely disconcerting, as if a giant mouth kept sucking on her entire pussy.

  She looked up at his looming presence in her shadowy world and couldn’t make out the features of his face.

  His hands were warm as he massaged a light oil into her stomach and breasts. “You have the softest skin,” he murmured. “Like silk.” His callused fingers scraped lightly as he rolled her nipple, making it peak.

  A sultry hunger flowed to her core, adding to the sensations. Having his hands on her again was the most bittersweet of pleasures.

  Jake idly caressed Rainie’s full breasts as he contemplated her response. Her color had heightened. Her nipples beaded tightly.

  Knowing he needed to unsettle her quickly tonight, he’d removed her ability to move, to speak, to see. Her pussy belonged to him, and the constant pressure from the suction device would enforce that awareness. But she was still too much in her head.

  Time to up the game with the next step. He put wet towels on the stone table. A bowl of water with ice. A table knife. The candle had a stand to prevent accidents. His toy bag held aloe cream.

  Lifting the candle, he visually noted the height before letting a drop fall on his inner arm. The pleasant splat was followed by a spreading warmth. Not too hot, at least for him.

  He looked down at Rainie. The glasses hid her eyes, but with the curved lenses, the flame probably appeared huge to her. With consideration for her more delicate skin, he raised the candle an extra foot of height to ensure the wax had more time to cool. A drop fell on her shoulder.

  She jumped. Gasped in surprise—but he didn’t hear any sound of pain.

  Using his fingertips, he pried up the hardening blob. Beneath, her skin was slightly pinkened. Just right.

  And so he began.

  Wax play was as engrossingly fun as finger painting in kindergarten. Even more than the artistic enjoyment in creating interesting patterns, he had the delight of using a woman’s silky skin and curves as his canvas. Add to that his Dom’s pleasure in taking a submissive up and up. He increased the heat, the amount, the timing, until Rainie was straining upward and yet flinching away from each drop.

  Her face turned pinker. Her lips reddened with her arousal.

  Speaking of which… He set the candle on the table and assessed his artwork. White lines of wax crossed her torso, circled her breasts, and thickened on her lower abdomen. Gorgeous.

  The quick-release on the suction device ended the pressure. He removed the cup and surveyed the results.

  Her clit and pussy lips had puffed up to three times their normal size. “Very pretty.”

  When he ran his finger over her beautifully swollen flesh, she sucked in a breath. Yes, she was much more sensitive. And her labia already glistened with her arousal.

  Damn, he wanted her—but he wanted all of her, not merely her body. Answers came first. At the head of the table, he pulled the gag from her mouth. The mini-dildo pacifier had cute bite marks in it. After wiping her lips, he pushed the glasses up onto her forehead.

  “You’re looking a little dazed there, sweetheart,” he said. “What’s your name?”

  She swallowed and whispered, “Rainie.”

  Even before talking to Z, Jake had wondered about the gaps in his knowledge of her. Her father, then mother had abandoned her. She’d been in foster care. But…she’d run away and possibly been with a drug dealer at sixteen. And Miss Lily had given her a home at seventeen. Wherever you are, Miss Lily, thank you for your care.

  “Pretty Rainie. You’re being such a good girl.” Murmuring in a low voice, Jake stroked his submissive—because, dammit, she was. He ever so slowly traced the skin not covered by wax to ease her into a calm state. “The wax looks gorgeous on you, baby.”

  She relaxed under his hands, her gaze losing focus.

  In the same quiet voice, he asked, “Why’d you run away from foster care?”

  Rainie’s mind had taken up residence somewhere else. But with the question, a darkness slid into her, like a rain cloud over the sun. Foster care. “Mr. Evans tried to…” Her lips had trouble forming the words. “Ripped my dress.” Her borrowed clothes had made her look almost as nice as the popular high school girls. “My pretty clothes for Jennifer’s party.”

  “Jennifer? For Jennifer’s Sweet Sixteen party?” a husky voice said.

  “Invited me.” To be invited to Jennifer’s home was…beyond cool. And the house was sparkling clean, lushly beautiful. It even smelled different, like flowers and pastries. She’d been late. Heard the sounds of people having fun when she came in. “Go through the living room to the back patio, miss.” Only halfway there, she’d glanced in the door of a game room and seen...

  Her feet had simply stopped. “Look at him...” Surrounded by his friends, the boy—no, the man—moved with a lean power. Hair a shaggy brown, eyes a mesmerizing green. She’d never seen a man so beautiful. So decent and strong.

  “Look at who, baby?�
��

  “Jake…brother.” Then the laughter started, right behind her. Horrid. Cruel. She flinched at the sound. “Hey, Fat Girl, who you looking at.” “Jesus, she’s staring at Jake.” “Like you’d ever get him.” She flinched.

  “Tell me, baby. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m ugly. Trash.”

  The voice held an angry edge. “Who said that?”

  “Jenn…friends.” Her legs shifted, but straps held her down. “Run.” Tears filled her eyes, a harsh sob escaped. Run, run home.

  “Jesus, that’s it.” A calming hand settled on her legs. “You ran home”—the voice growled—”from my place, and the bastard attacked you.”

  She tried to nod. “He said I deserved it. Asked for it.”

  “He lied.”

  At the snap in the Dom’s voice, her head started clearing. What had she told him? Trash. She’d called herself trash. Oh God. Her eyes blurred with tears, and she shut them tight. Let the world go away. Please, God.

  Instead of more questions, he kissed her. “I love your lips, sweetling.” He kissed her again, tenderly enough to have fresh tears seeping from under her closed lids.

  “I’m sorry I made you cry.” Another kiss. “But you’re going to finish telling me the rest of what bothers you.”

  Her mouth clamped shut…and he chuckled.

  “You will. Because I’ll push you to the point you’d rather talk than suffer.” He slid the glasses back on her face, cutting her tie to the world.

  Her skin prickled under the cooling wax—and her arousal had disappeared, although her swollen pussy throbbed. When she opened her eyes, he was only a giant shape in her distorted vision. A black body in the darkness.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” The rich timbre of Jake’s voice gathered her thoughts to him, holding her in his will.

  She sighed, comforted.

  “Time for something new. Open up.” With firm hands, he pulled her buttocks outward slightly.

  Buttocks. Wait. “Uhhh.” She squeezed her muscles to prevent the intrusion.

  “We’ve done this before, sweetling, and you enjoy it.” He held her open, and the feel of his hands on her bottom, the acknowledgment of his complete control, sent a wash of desire through her.

  As he pushed the slickened plug against her anus, her rectal muscles fought and lost. In it went, stretching her. Nerves sizzled to life around the anal rim, somehow connecting with her core and sending heat boiling upward.

  A second later, the pump ring once again covered her pussy. The suction started, fattening her labia, sucking on her clit. The pressure increased, more and more, higher than before. Her entire lower half grew stretched and throbbingly taut.

  The sounds from other scenes in the room drifted to her. Murmurs and groans. The harsh smack of a flogger. The lighter slaps of a cane. Through the dark glasses, she saw Master Jake, taller than trees, and his broad shoulders and chest blocked out the wall behind him.

  He flattened his palm on her belly, and his fingers lingered on the bare places between the lines of wax. “Your pussy is getting slick and puffy, sweetling,” he said softly. “I plan to take you hard afterward.”

  A tremor ran through her at the carnal promise in his voice. The air itself had grown smolderingly thick.

  The flickering flame of a candle rose like a sunrise into her field of vision. And then the first spatter of wax. A second later, fire blossomed under her skin.

  In exquisite slowness, he drizzled more wax over her stomach and upward to her breasts. Her body tensed with the effort of anticipating each new drop, each new fiery stream. Her pussy throbbed; her anus burned.

  She was panting, groaning. More wax.

  A pause. Her muscles tensed.

  More wax. The thick pleasure of the heat.

  Up and up, she rose, and somehow, somewhere, something snipped her balloon loose and she floated free. Drifting. The bite of hot wax hitting her skin faded into the sensation of warm rain.

  “That’s right, baby.” The subterranean murmur felt part of her, as if the voice had flowered from the warmth impregnating her skin.

  Lips touched hers. The light scent of forest drifted to her, reminding her of safety and strength. A face brushed hers, the beard a scrape against her cheek. “Miss Lily took you in.”

  Were they talking about something? She tried to think, failed, and her worries slid out from under her reason.

  “You said you need to be more. Did Miss Lily tell you that?”

  Sweet Miss Lily. “Watch your posture, Rainie.” Frail Miss Lily sipped her tea, her spine ramrod straight, not touching the back of the chair. “Knees together.” Rainie carefully crossed her legs, only at the ankles, to form a pleasing line. “Too much cleavage is for tramps; you are a lady.” “Don your jewelry, and then remove a piece.” “Act like a lady.” “Don’t swear. No one loves a trashy woman.”

  Rainie heard herself whispering the rules.

  The slow slide of a deep voice murmured. “Hell. She thought she was helping—and instead she overdid it, didn’t she?”

  She got another kiss. So light that her thoughts floated again.

  Sweet Miss Lily. She could almost smell the elderly woman’s lavender, feel her soft wrinkled cheek. “She loved me.” Rainie’s lips curved up as she soaked in the memory.

  Question. A question hovered in her mind, whispered by a husky voice.

  “Answer me, sweetling.”

  Question. “Geoffrey’s family didn’t like me. Said I was coarse. And heavy.” The hurt dug into her like sharp claws. She pulled in a breath, blinking.

  Her world changed, came clear.

  Holding the dark glasses, Jake leaned down to her. His eyes were sharper than lasers. The forehead strap kept her from looking away from his hard face. “Abandoned by your parents, attacked in foster care, criticized by your mentor, dumped by your wimpy boyfriend. No wonder your thinking got screwed up.”

  Her mouth worked, but nothing escaped. She’d…told him that? Fragments of her own words drifted through her memory, leaving her more naked than any lack of clothing would.

  “You figure you have to make yourself over in order to be loved?”

  He couldn’t understand. “I do,” she whispered. “I have to be smooth and put together and polished and—”

  “Jesus. Sweetheart, you’re not expected to change yourself.” He cupped his hands on each side of her face. “You’re supposed to find someone who likes you as you are.” His jaw was so tense he had trouble speaking. “The rest is just…polish…like you said, but not who you really are, Rainie.”

  Not who she was?

  “It’s like clothes—sometimes you dress up for an occasion. But, sweetling, friends like you no matter what you wear. The man who loves you will adore you without any polish…or clothes.”

  She stared at him.

  His lips curved. “As it happens, I love you naked.”

  A second later, he stepped back.

  And wax splashed on her stomach, up over a breast and down again. Over and over. The heat flared along her skin and through her, growing, blossoming, until she floated away in a cloud of sensation.

  Jake stopped to survey his work. Rainie’s body was covered in a light sweat, and the wax glowed in the dungeon lights.

  He felt as if he’d been dragged behind a truck for a few miles, yet exhilarated at the progress they’d made. Fuck, she’d had a hell of a childhood. Everyone had let her down. In a way, he’d been part of her trauma. That ugly revelation still grated through his system.

  She’d seen him at Jennifer’s party.

  He’d have been near twenty-one, just starting to explore BDSM with his mentor, and thinking about enlisting. Hell, if only he’d met her that day, what might he have spared her? Regret bit at him.

  But if he’d met her then...if she’d managed to avoid the heartbreak and trauma, would she be the same woman?

  All her friends and even his clinic clients poured out their life stories…
because she listened without judging. Because compassion was a river running through her so strongly that anyone who knew her could feel it.

  He had to think destiny had set Rainie’s feet on her path. And, being the amazing person she was, she’d climbed higher than anyone could imagine.

  Dammit, though… Thinking about what she’d been through made him growl. Even her beloved mentor had messed with her head. With the best of intentions, Miss Lily had tried to redesign a brilliant spirit rather than teaching her the difference between internal and external appearances.

  He sighed. One scene wouldn’t address those insecurities of hers. They’d have to come back to this often. If fact, he should talk her into some counseling as well.

  As he ran his hand through his hair, he decided to sign himself up for a bit of therapy too. Damned if he didn’t have a few problems to work through himself.

  Heather’d been quite clear. “If you’d said you needed me…if you’d given the slightest hint that losing me would upset your life, I’d never have been able to leave.” He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  Jake picked up Rainie’s hand. “Sweetling, look at me.”

  Her eyes had glazed again. Good. She had no defenses to keep his request, his plea, from sliding in deep. She’d hear him true. “Rainie, I love you, just the way you are. Please don’t leave me.”

  “Jake,” she whispered. Her hazel eyes started to clear, to focus on his face. “Wh-what?”

  “I need you, sweetheart. Stay here. With me.” If he could, he’d relocate with her, but he and Saxon owned the clinic together.

  “Need me?” Rainie’s brow puckered. “No.”

  His jaw clamped down. Had he been wrong about what she felt?

  “I’m not good for you. Hurt your future. When I’m more. Better—”

  He had to blink away the tears. Jesus, he’d been an idiot. Not good for him? “You’re perfect, sweetling. Everything I need in a woman. I don’t want you to change.”

  And next time he asked her to do a list of her strengths and weaknesses, he’d write out his own…and share.