“No,” Andrea interrupted.

His brows came together as he turned to look at her. Oh, carajo, she was so screwed. But that didn't matter. She turned to Vanessa. “I don't know what he did, but his shoulder or arm isn't moving right. It hurts him. He's not going to use a flogger tonight.”

Andrea winced at the look he gave her and added, half under her breath, “I bet that's why he's wearing a shirt.”

Vanessa glared at Andrea, then turned to Master Cullen. “I wouldn't want you to be hurt, Master Cullen,” she said so sweetly that Andrea rolled her eyes. “How about next week instead, Sir?”

Master Cullen smiled at the brunette. “Thank you, Vanessa. Next week would be good.”

As he spoke, Andrea grabbed the drinks and headed back to her area. Maybe after some time had passed, he'd forget how she'd actually butted into his conversation and said “No” to him.

She could feel his eyes on her back, and a chill crept through her. Did she really think that the bartender who never forgot anyone's drink would forget that a sub tried to boss him around?

“What happened to your shoulder?”

Still watching his little Amazon, Cullen jerked his gaze away and realized Z had taken a seat at the bar earlier. “Got under a ceiling that fell in. Burned a patch of skin.”

“She watches you closely, doesn't she?”

No use pretending he didn't know who Z meant. “Apparently so.” He grinned. “Brave little thing, isn't she? Laid the law right down.”

Odd to have a sub dare his displeasure because of her concern for him. He'd had subs sass him to get punished, subs who defied him because they couldn't quite submit, subs who just didn't want to obey, but Andrea—he caught a glimpse of her across the room, moving with that graceful, strong stride—she was something different.

“What are your plans for her tonight?” Z asked.

Cullen poured him a drink and pushed it over, then picked up a beer for himself. “I didn't push her last week, so she's due. Since she has a green ribbon, she should do a scene with one of the uncommitted Masters. Maybe Marcus.”

The thought of Marcus taking Andrea didn't sit well. Or Sam or… The can in Cullen's hand crumpled, spilling beer over the sides. Hell. Not mine. Trainee. Here to be taught. “Marcus should work fine.”

Z had a slight smile on his face, one that didn't seem to go with the conversation. “Indeed.” He rose and paused long enough to say, “Daniel will be along as soon as I find him. He and the others will handle the bar tonight.”

The flat tone said argument would be futile. The Masters weren't paid by the Shadowlands, but the owner still laid down the law. “Yes, boss.”

The night had started sucky, revived for all of five minutes, and gone straight downhill from there. First she'd annoyed Master Cullen with her unsubmissive behavior—had she really told him what he could do? Madre de Dios, she'd gone mad. Then before she could go back and apologize, Master Z had given her to this…this incredibly boring Dom.

Totally naked, with her hands chained over her head, she looked down at the sandy-haired, young Dom using a vibrator on her. Surely that should get her off. You'd think. She stifled a sigh.

Gary pushed the vibrator into her harder and said, “Come now!”

Did he really imagine he could order her to get off?

Then again, if she did, she'd be finished with him, right? Enough was enough. Andrea closed her eyes and moaned, giving some nice hip jerks for emphasis.

Gary rose to his feet, a pleased smile on his face. Good. Maybe now he'd release her. “Well,” he said. “I think—”

“If we might intrude on your scene, Gary?” Master Z walked into the roped-off area. “I believe Master Cullen needs to have a word with his trainee. And I'd like to speak to you for a minute.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Master Z looked at her with no expression on his face, then escorted the Dom from the area, leaving her still chained. Well, he certainly appeared awfully cross.

She didn't care, not with Master Cullen right here in front of her. She looked at him…and froze. His jaw was tight, his mouth straight, all humor gone from his eyes as he unclipped her restraints.

“Señor?”

He pointed to the floor, and heart hammering, she dropped to her knees and lowered her head. Her hands felt cold as she set them carefully on her thighs in the position she'd learned last week. She could see his boots in front of her. Not moving. He just stood there, and the weight of his gaze bowed her shoulders.

“Do you know why I am displeased, trainee?” Even his deep voice had chilled.

Dios, she'd really made him mad. Amazing that he hadn't yelled at her earlier. “Because I told Vanessa she couldn't be flogged.”

“No. Try again.”

But what could she have done to make him so angry? She waited on tables well enough. Hadn't tried to hit anyone. Behaved properly submissive when the Dom chained her. Even faked a… Her breath stopped. Surely no one realized she'd faked it. She'd certainly fooled the Dom.

She hadn't fooled Master Z or Cullen. Madre de Dios. “I…I'm sorry.”

“Tell me what you're sorry for.”

“I pretended to have an orgasm,” she whispered to her hands.

“Look at me.” A finger under her chin tilted her face up, but she didn't want to see those icy, green eyes.

“Look. At. Me.”

She flinched and raised her eyes, and he held her gaze as he said, “The relationship between a Dom and a sub is based on honesty. If you can't be truthful about something as basic as your own pleasure, you don't belong here.”

His words thudded into her chest harder than any blow. “No. Oh, no.” She grabbed his wrist, holding him so he had to listen. “I didn't think. I just wanted…” To make the Dom quit. To manipulate him with a lie. She had lied with her body, if not her words. Her eyes burned as the enormity of her error hit. She closed her eyes against the lack of emotion in his.

But he didn't move. Didn't walk away. Did she still have a chance? “I won't mess up again. Now that I know.” She couldn't say the word that kept reverberating through her head. Please, please, please.

His gaze softened slightly. “Sweetie, you—you especially—won't enjoy the punishment we use for something like this.”

“I'll do it. Beat me, whip me, whatever.” Don't make me leave you. Not yet when I haven't even tried to see if you like me.

He sighed and lifted her to her feet. “Whatever is the word for it all right.” His hand closed over her nape, pushing her to the back of the main room and down the hallway past the themed rooms, and into the dimness of the dungeon.

Not polished wood and glowing bronze like the rest of the Shadowlands, the dungeon decor came from an earlier era. A brutal one. The manacles embedded into the rock walls held submissives, male and female. On the right, a skinny sub rocked in a sling, her master pounding into her; the left had an empty bondage table. A woman hung suspended in the center of the room, her eyes half-closed, deeply into subspace as her Dom placed a row of clothespins down her back.

Andrea had started to shake by the time they reached the far corner and stopped. A carved statue of a brown horse rested on a tall stand. A leather saddle adorned the narrow back. Against the wall behind it stood a small table with various dildos. An uneasy sensation crawled into Andrea's stomach. This didn't look like a whipping station.

Master Cullen pointed to the floor. “Kneel.”

She dropped down and lowered her eyes. Her fingers trembled so hard that she clasped them between her thighs. Her legs hurt from the rough slate floor, and as she stared at her knees, she listened. What was he doing? A whip cracked across the room. Low commands came from a Domme elsewhere. A man's groan. The crinkling sound of a condom wrapper very close. Low murmurs and whispers, increasing and getting closer. To here. Oh, Dios, her punishment had turned into a spectator sport.

What exactly was that horse thing?

As if he'd heard her, Master Cullen said, “This wooden horse is a relative of the Sybian, and you're going for a ride, trainee.” He grasped her upper arms, lifted her to her feet, and pushed her over to the statue.

She looked at it and jerked back a pace. A long plastic piece ran down the fake saddle with a condom-covered dildo poking up in the center. Master Cullen squirted a package of lube on the dildo, then shoved a wooden step closer to the device. “Mount up, sub.”

She shook her head, her stomach knotting. This… She couldn't do this. She took another step back.

Face expressionless, he crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

She had only two choices. Take her punishment—ride this thing—or walk out of the Shadowlands and never come back.

Her eyes filled with tears. I don't want this. And then she stepped up on the wooden box and swung a leg across the saddle, trying to get over the dildo. It bumped against the inside of her thigh.

“Up you go, little tiger.” He grasped her waist and lifted her up above it, then lowered her, letting her position herself. The dildo slid into her, startling her. It was smaller than a man, but she hadn't had anything there in so long…except his fingers. Teeth gritted, she let it enter her completely, and discovered that the plastic in front of the dildo curved upward, pressing the pebbled surface against her clit.




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