Not Even Death-Still Your Master

By B.B. Blaque

The continuing story of what happens when a Master, Markus Cruz continues to guide his slave to her next happily ever after....when not even death, breaks their bond of love.

First was Derrick Destry...safe, surprising, dominant....and a whole lot sexier than she ever imagined. (See Not Even Death-Eternally Your Master for their story)

Next, comes Blaze St. Sebastian...dangerous, rock star, Master and full of life altering surprises--everything she always dreamed he'd be and more.
In collaboration with Markus, Calico deceased Master...she will learn the next lesson...Trust...taking a chance on life...so she'll be ready to take a chance on love and surrender.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.B. Blaque
• Release date: Sep 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310024856

B.B. Blaque

I'm a hopeless romantic. Even when I think it's hopeless, it always woos me back . That is the power of hope and with hope anything is possible. I believe in the transforming power of love, even when done wrong, it always leaves its mark on your heart, coloring how you will love in the future. With these things in mind, I write about transformation, acceptance and overcoming--through and with love. I choose to write about Domination and submission and the subtle nuances of these relationships that take them beyond role play. I'm inspired to write by things I see, smell, experience and largely by what I hear. Music and the sound of someone's voice are two of my favorite indulgences. I've written for as long as I can remember and now, I'm truly inspired to do more.

Book preview

Not Even Death #2

STILL

Your Master

A Novella

B.B. BLAQUE

Copyright © 2014 B.B. BLAQUE

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition

Photo Credits

Konradbak-A young lady got stuck-Dreamstime.com

Curaphotography Warrior Face Dreamstime.com

Konradbak |Sportcar Dreamstime.com

Lebedinski Black Guitar| Dreamstime.com

Feedough- Business man unbuttons his jacket-Dreamstime.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer.

Thank you for your support

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Happily Ever What?

Thank You

CHAPTER ONE

Siesta Key, Florida-Domaine De Le Butterfly-2011

During the weeks following Derrick’s visit Calico saw life differently. The colors were brighter and everything appeared crisp, yet glowing. It seemed she was in a world lit from within. Everything was pleasantly familiar. It reminded her of when she’d first become—a slave. It was the vision of when she’d loved and been loved for the first time.

Sitting in the garden on the swing, she tried to absorb all the new found light and happiness. Just like the first time, she knew—this too—would come in phases. She pulled her knees to her chest, attempting to welcome the light with a hug. She anxiously awaited each beautiful phase and what it might bring.

She enjoyed floating around on the buzzing cloud of anticipation. The bruises Derrick left behind had settled in and she admired them every chance she got. The tenderness helped, she was on the edge of her seat, where she should be.

Each afternoon she sat wondering—will the mailman come today? Each day he didn’t arrive with a package made her surge with excitement. Master, you’re such a tease! She invited the wonderful tingling and flutter between her thighs. She felt like a new woman—or like the woman she’d left behind.

Wistfully, she recalled how much they’d gone through before the radiance of the first phase shone. What began as a matte arrangement born out of mutual need had become more than anticipated. The dull, brushed metal—lacking shine, sparkle or glow—had been polished and love reflected back from it.

~XOXOXOXOX~

The Hamptons, Long Island, New York-1999

Carissa awoke in the guest quarters of the sprawling estate. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to acclimate to the new surroundings.

"Well how do you ya’ like that? Super Suit is a man of his word after all—huh." She thought with a sleepy grin, retrieving the can of mace from under the pillow. She fully expected he’d make his way to her bed while she slept. A girl can’t be too prepared.

The soft mattress was a welcome change from the alleys and park benches she usually called bed. She hadn’t slept on anything close to a mattress since the dusty, bug infested cot at the shelter. Sleeping under the stars had been a welcome change from the one-eyed slumber of that rat-hole. But this, this was a dream!

Once her eyes adjusted to the day she assessed the room. The furnishings were sparse, yet cozy. Everything matched perfectly. Nothing appeared extraneous or without thought. It could be in Better Homes and Garden in a spread entitled, Decorating with Clean Lines and Bright Colors

Laughing out loud, Carissa muttered, Ah ha! So that’s the deal—there’s a Mrs. Super Suit! She could just tell he hadn’t decorated the guest quarters. Everything was just so and so not masculine.

Her host had given her one of his clean, white shirts to sleep in. It swam on her small frame and could’ve passed as a dress. The wonderful smell of cleanliness lulled her to sleep, tickling at her nose. She inhaled deeply. It’s still there, mmmmm!

On tip-toe she walked to the door and cautiously turned the handle. Why am I being so quiet? He’s way over there. She giggled, recalling his accurate gesture about how far apart they’d be sleeping. Swiftly, she moved through the anteroom and out the locked double-doors separating the guest suite from the main house.

The smell of fresh coffee and food helped guide her to the kitchen. Is this what it’s like to be in a home? When she arrived to the bright kitchen, Super Suit was a buzz making breakfast. Quietly, she stumbled over to a seat at the high table. She surveyed the space around her—she’d never seen anything quite so ideal in her life. There was a large butcher-block island, she’d read about those. A variety of pots and pans dangled above. The display was so picturesque it was hard to imagine they weren’t just for show. There were large, rounded windows with a comfy looking bench lined with colorful pillows. Down from the bench were some of those fancy white and glass doors with gold hardware. I think those are Swiss doors, or French maybe? She tried to recall the magazines she’d read.

"Well good morning Miss Calico. Her host said with a cheery tone that pulled her back from the mental photo-shoot she was doing. Did you sleep well in your corner of the house?" He asked, sipping a steaming, cup of black coffee and sitting one on the table in front of his guest.

"Whoa! You were serious—you are callin’ me Calico!" She said, sticking a finger into the cup to stir and test the temperature.

"Did you think I was kidding?" He asked. His steel-gray eyes danced with amusement.

Wow look at those eyes! I couldn’t see those before.

"Well, yeah…you could call me Carissa ya’ know…If ya’ wanted to or somethin’" She said, looking down to her cup.

"And, if I wanted, that’s exactly what I’d call you. He said confidently as he took the seat across from her. But, I much prefer Calico."

She lifted the cup to her face, allowing her bangs to fall naturally. Anything to shield me from those eyes! No wonder he’s so great at whatever he does—wow! She couldn’t understand how he made her feel so shy.

Curiosity about Mrs. Super Suit was able to nudge its way past shy and out her lips. Mrs. Suit probably wouldn’t appreciate a street urchin in her gorgeous home, especially if said urchin was getting all school girl awkward with her handsome, gray eyed husband.

"So, lemme ask you?" She began, putting on a nonchalance she’d perfected on tourists and yuppies.

"Yes Miss Calico?" Was he flirting?

"So, I was just lookin’ around the room you had me in." She continued, calm and cool as a September morning.

"Uh, huh?" He asked.

"Well? She asked, When do I get to meet her?" She put her elbows solidly on the table and cradled her cheeks in her hands.

Markus was suddenly as stiff as the starched, white collar of his shirt. He rose from the table, leaving his coffee behind, slowly pacing around the room.

"Meet who?" He asked over his shoulder.

"Well, it’s just…I was lookin’ around. Carissa tried to explain. And I’m thinkin’—you aren’t the guy who decorated that room. She said to his still turned back. I’m just sayin’…It looks like it’s got, ya’ know, a woman’s touch."

Markus didn’t respond.

"And all this matchy-matchy stuff you’ve got goin’ on in here…Are you tryin’ to tell me you went shoppin’ at Macy’s for all this stuff? She couldn’t believe how much she reminded herself of Detective Sheridan. ’Cause I’m thinkin’ no." Once she’d purged all the word vomit, she noticed the drastic change in the demeanor of her host.

He was still pacing around the room. He stood, looking out the window and then the doors. He wiped at the countertop aimlessly and threw the towel into the sink and paced more.

Then, deciding on a direction, his strides took him to the credenza. He stood momentarily before opening the drawer with a sigh. He picked something up and closed it carefully.

As he approached the table, Carissa noticed how different he looked. She couldn’t place the expression.

"Is this what you want to know about?" He asked, sitting the item on the placemat in front of Carissa.

She didn’t quite