by Alice Ward
Mason shook his head. “He’s the designer of this competition. Can you imagine what he’s going to have us do?” This was probably the crux of his worries, but I didn’t want him to know it was also mine. Even I didn’t want to imagine what my crazy Uncle Harv was planning.
I liked my fair share of naughty but having my uncle dictate it was heading toward creepy town.
“Yeah, that might get a little intense.” I took a bite to keep my mouth busy so I couldn’t say more.
“A little intense? Have you seen some of the shit on his website?”
“I happen to like Hedon very much,” I mentioned, leaving that fact there for him to digest.
He whipped out his iPhone and asked Siri to bring up Hedon.com. “Okay, here’s a recent headline for you: DIY… Do It Yourself Dildos for the Daring. The article shows how to make dildos the chick can shove up a man’s ass. But it mentions how she has to “toss the salad” first.” His voice rose a caliber. “You want to tempt this kind of crazy? You actually like stuff like this?”
“When on the island,” I offered as I lifted a piece of salad with my fork and slipped it into my mouth.
A spark of competitiveness lit in Mason’s eyes. Mason and I were about to go head to head against one another, what we did best. And my uncle, being litigious to a fault, had surely outlined rules for engagement which were almost unbearable.
As it turned out, I was right.
Uncle Harv joined us in the library for after dinner drinks. He’d just arrived and looked a little weary reclining in the old-fashioned wing chair, and I wondered again if he was feeling all right. Before I had a chance to inquire, he greeted us in his usual booming manner and moved straight to the topic of the contest as he ordered us to sit.
“Boys, I want you to realize that though the nature of your assignments will be almost entirely sexual in nature, you will be under strict rules and regulations.”
Almost entirely sexual?
Hearing these words come from my uncle’s mouth was disturbing but also a dream come true. An entire month of almost entirely sexual assignments. There really was a god.
“Your partners for the game will be here at any moment. Before you are introduced, I have a list of instructions that will need to be followed. Then the competition can begin.”
Mason smiled. “Then the game will begin tonight?”
My uncle frowned. “This isn’t a game, son. It’s a competition, yes, with the perks of two beautiful women added, but it’s serious. The end result will dictate who takes over the company I’ve spent my life building.”
“Yes, sir.” Mason nodded, and his expression took on a more serious look.
Uncle glanced at me, and I guessed he could tell I was ready. “Rule number one, it is forbidden to leave the chalet grounds without permission during the game, if you do so you will be disqualified. Also, you will be given clothing and won’t wear your own, and you will have to hand over your phones.”
I ached to stand and argue Harvey’s logic. I had a certain image I liked to portray. I adjusted my tie and hoped suits were in the new wardrobe. I’d been planning on making an excuse to go check on my business at some point, and my heart dropped as I realized I was truly stuck here for a month with no outside communication. With Mason. And a couple of bimbos.
“You will accept the woman I…” Uncle Harvey continued, “chose for you without complaint and agree to being filmed at all times, except in the bedroom. For sexual challenges, a rating card will be provided for the women that will weigh heavily in who wins that round. I assure you the strictest privacy is in place.”
I had to try. “About the cell phones—”
“Ahh, yes, I almost forgot. You are only allowed to use cell phones for the first week. After that, phones as well as computers, tablets, and other devices will be confiscated. If there is anything urgent, it will be screened, and the game will be paused to handle the urgent matter. However, barring any emergency, you won’t be allowed to communicate with the outside world at all until the competition has concluded.”
I could feel sweat gathering on my brow and beneath the back of my shirt. As excited about the entire arrangement as I was — a month of possibly unlimited secret pleasures with a woman as ready as I was to play — I was expected to hand over everything that made me who I was. It put me in a vulnerable position. But I couldn’t forfeit the game. The prize was so coveted. I needed to win at all costs.
“I don’t think either of you have been to Céleste Chalet since you were kids,” Uncle commented, bringing home the point that Mason and I had been at war for a very long time. “I bought the place because I loved skiing and making a profit on a passion was always a great sideline. We have closed the resort so we can host this little competition and will reopen after Valentine’s Day. I wanted my family to enjoy the chalet, which never really happened. Now, I’m forcing your enjoyment. One doesn’t live forever, I’d like to see it used as it was intended at least once.” He laughed, knowing something we obviously didn’t.
Mason and I looked at one another, united in our discomfort.
I felt the pressure mounting as my chest tightened and my breathing constricted. What the hell was I getting myself into? I wanted to run his empire, but not be “all his” in any scenario. I had shit I wanted and needed to do, and I didn’t want those things regulated by anyone.
“You’ve done a great job, Uncle Harv, letting us know what we can’t do, but can you give us an idea of what we will be doing?” Damn, my voice was shaking. I clenched my fists. I wouldn’t let Uncle’s shit unravel me.
There was a twinkle in Uncle Harv’s eye. He was actually getting off on seeing me squirm, crazy ol’ bastard. He’d put a lot of time and thought into this, which I soon discovered, as he took great pains to explain what our next few days would look like.
“The game will consist of twelve tasks, six I have devised and six the two of you will come up with individually. You must create these tasks by thinking of ways you can challenge yourself, each other and the women who’ll be playing with you. Each team will have to complete all of the tasks together in order to stay in the game and move on.”
Mason interrupted with another resounding note of confidence. “Now you’re talking, Uncle Harv.”
I rolled my eyes. These two were from Mars. Who did this shit in real life? Unless you were on “Survivor” playing for a million dollars with a camera crew and a nearly scripted experience… And then it dawned on me. The filming, the CEO position — this was “Survivor,” just of a different variety. Would Uncle Harv be turning this into a reality show? The question bothered me.
“What kind of tasks are you thinking of exactly? And this won’t, by any chance, be made public, will it?” I asked for clarity.
“Well, as far as creating tasks go, just choose anything that isn’t criminal, won’t cause any lasting bodily injury, and won’t make the women you’re playing with want to pack up and go home. The sky’s the limit outside of the rules already mentioned. The challenges should include sexual play, fantasy, and alternative lifestyle choices. They may even veer into the darker realms of sexual exploration, but again, don’t scare off the ladies. And yes, why wouldn’t some pieces of this game be made public? Everything within reason in that sphere of taste I think would be appropriate.”
“Does it have to be whips and chains?” Mason asked.
What’s wrong with whips and chains?
“Certainly not, son. Whatever you deem worthy of a challenge… could be knitting, I don’t care. It just has to fit within the guidelines.” He gave a lecherous grin.
“What parts of this are going to be broadcast?” I had to ask, my heart was palpitating so fiercely. I’d been so careful to keep my sexual appetite under wraps. Would my reputation suffer from my Uncle’s twisted sense of humor?
“The appropriate parts, none of the naked bits, I assure you,” Uncle said, nodding as if he knew exactly what was bothering me.
Excitement b
uilt in me even as trepidation rose higher. I could tell by Mason’s questioning he was not comfortable with BDSM, or the dominant, subservient sexual lifestyle, but I thrived on it.
I knew the good looks and powerful persuasion I possessed was enough to convince any woman to try whatever I wanted and push her to the very limits my expertise would allow. Mason, on the other hand, would be challenged beyond his ability and would most likely fail — after I wrote challenges that he couldn’t win.
I had the upper hand. Excitement shot through me at what was to come.
As I glanced over at Mason, he looked as if he felt the same way. He even had the audacity to smirk at me. He had no idea what I was going to hit him with.
“Bottom line is, I need one of you to win this and both of you to come on board as soon as possible. The more family I have in this thing, the better.”
I was ready to move on, but the idea of handing over the reins of my investment business to a manager was a shock. I liked having control over everything in my life. Even thinking about giving up the lead in business I’d started was hard.
“Surely you don’t want us to give up our own enterprises?” I asked incredulously, knowing my cousin had nothing he had to worry about.
My uncle’s voice took on compassion. “I understand your concern, Lucas. You have built a commendable business of your own. I’d suggest you find a way to marry them. Find a trustworthy successor as I am doing with the two of you and lock it in with some cross trading. I’m sure there’s a thing or two my company has to offer that is of interest to your investors.” He winked at me in his signature style.
Uncle Harv was an interesting man. One moment he seemed button-downed and by the books, then the next his devilish side and his sexual interests popped out. It was hard to believe a man of his age still had them, and even veered toward the deviant.
“I’m all on board. I’ll create my share of the challenges tonight.” As I said it, I held Mason’s gaze, making sure I communicated that they would be challenges he would not win.
“Very good. My secretary will be staying here at the chalet to ensure the challenges are met. A host of other staff will be arriving shortly. Trust me, your needs will be well met.” Our uncle gave us verbal reassurance, but his expression was surly and conniving. “Have you any last questions?” I could tell by the look on his face, we weren’t going to get any straight answers.
Mason raised his hand. What was this, kindergarten?
“What if we don’t like who you choose? I mean, there’s a lot riding on this competition, don’t you think we should choose our own partners?” He was being his typical cocky self, and I loved it. Go ahead, Mason, piss Uncle Harv off.
“No. You can’t be trusted. I’ve spent my whole life creating the most successful publishing empire in the world, I’m not letting a cocky little shithead and a control freak fuck it up. I’ve got my reasons for doing things this way. I don’t care if you dislike who I choose for you because I’ve chosen a woman I think both of you need.” I watched as Uncle Harv smirked and wondered if there was more to his concocted competition than met the eye. “Hey, what did one boob say to the other boob?”
Mason slid his eyes sideways to me then back to Uncle. “You’re my breast friend?”
“Impressive,” said Unc, gesturing toward me, “but say it to him. You boobs need to be each other’s best friends before this is over.”
Mason blanched, his face turning a light shade of gray.
We’d both been dressed down well enough that when my uncle excused himself to meet the incoming women, Mason and I were left speechless.
“What the hell is he thinking?” Mason finally asked, so incensed his face was now turning red.
“Like he said, it’s his business, his rules. You don’t have to compete if you don’t want to.” How great would it be if he just ditched now before we even started?
Before I could continue on that subject, the door my uncle exited from opened again, and a long-legged beauty stepped in. Then another.
I stood, barely breathing, forgetting the hope that Mason’d throw a tantrum or storm out. Instead, my interest and his both focused on the women.
I barely registered the first, only to note that she was centerfold worthy. My senses homed in on the second, the one with long chestnut hair and hesitant blue eyes. Despite the fact that the blonde was more my usual type, I felt drawn to the other. She was beautiful and had a timidness about her that I liked. She didn’t seem to be the take-charge girl the blonde presented herself as being.
The brunette looked artistic, quirky — softer, more vulnerable. Out of her element. My mouth watered. And entirely not my type. She was a little too bohemian for my tastes but had beautiful natural tits and a tight stomach. Something about her made my pulse speed up, made me want to get to the challenges my uncle had dreamed up in hopes that I could taste her.
God, I wanted to put my mouth on that long, graceful body and feast.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ava
The opulence of the ski chalet took my breath as I followed the butler to a large library where Mr. Huffman stood waiting.
From the website, I’d learned all about the two lavish penthouses on the top floor. The lower floors held family suites, couples’ hideaways, accommodations for groups and single rooms. Throughout the rest of the chalet were great rooms, dining rooms, a playroom, and a media center with several full-size theaters and a dance hall. It also had its own ski runs and chairlift. And it was sparkling with hearts, red roses, and tiny white lights everywhere you turned.
After Lance had terminated my lease via thirty days’ notice, I had absolutely no place to go. I could barely afford the eight hundred a month I paid for my half of the room. Anywhere was better than there. So here I was. Sylvia had promised to pile my stuff on her side of the room if Lance made noise about tossing it out. After the competition, I would have enough money to get another place and start my own business.
If my reputation survived unscathed. Which I didn’t see how that was possible, seeing as parts of the competition would be uploaded to Hedon.com.
But if anything was true, it was that I was in desperate need of a good roll in the sheets with a man.
It wasn’t that I had anything against dating or even casual sex. I was just busy, and no man had sparked my attention enough to drag me away from my sewing machine. And that was sad in itself.
As Mr. Huffman led me into the library, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Hedon was best known for bondage, leather, whips, chains, implements, and toys, and everything you could do with them. And since some women who appeared on it were such obvious bimbos you could pretty easily suss out their life goals, the normalcy I’d witnessed here so far was comforting. I wasn’t into naughty and hoped I possessed enough of an adventurous spirit to make it through and win the competition.
The only positive to Hedon in my book was that it had an open forum to discuss relationships on all points on the spectrum, from gay to straight, vanilla to blood sport. I found those articles interesting and helpful. Which helped to convince me to say yes when Mr. Huffman’s secretary called.
Another thing that’d had me leaning toward a yes was not the money — and I really wanted that money — but a picture of one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen. Followed by a picture of another equally handsome man.
I needed to expand my world a little after so much time focused on school only. The money, combined with my need to climb out of my safe little box, topped off with those two billion-dollar faces had sealed the deal.
At the heart of the dot-com and the entire publishing business that ran Hedon was a respect for women. It was a place for women to have an outlet for their sexuality. Therefore, a lot of the videos were actually women’s fantasies of submission, dominance, and romance.
Standing before me now were two real-life fantasies. The one with dark hair who was the tallest looked intense, his sharp gray-blue
eyes taking in every detail of me. The other, barely an inch shorter, looked a lot more friendly, his warm blue eyes meeting mine with a smile.
The temperature in the room rose as flashes of the videos I’d watched played out in my mind — of women reaching the peaks of their orgasms — before I forced my attention to the older man I’d interviewed with. He was an old perv, but he had tremendous personality.
Another woman had been escorted in before me. A blonde who was several inches taller than me and looked like she should be strutting down the catwalk in the clothes I had sewn together. Tough competition.
It made me size up the men again, wanting to get first pick.
I felt drawn to the taller man, Lucas, as I knew him from a Google search — he had a darkness about him that intrigued and terrified me at the same time. He was very handsome and completely in command of his space. I liked men like him from afar, they were beguiling and a bit intimidating.
Mason, on the other hand, was the kind of guy who could have talked me away from my schoolbooks. Gorgeous, laid back, well-traveled by the looks of his Italian shoes and Mexican necktie. He was the man who would appreciate art.
“Welcome, ladies.” Mr. Huffman stepped forward. “Please make my chalet your home for the next month.” He introduced the men then announced that we would go into dinner and he would see us after.
Mason stepped forward and lingered over the blonde, Isabella. She had such a classic beauty coupled with the perfect measurements, I felt intimidated. But it didn’t matter. He could fawn over her all he wanted. I was here for the money, not the thrill of the chase.
“Are we it? The four of us?” Isabella looked around as if expecting an endless filing in of knockout women, like on The Bachelor. Her forehead creased into a frown.
The heat in Lucas’s eyes when he glanced from the blonde to me left no doubt in my mind what he had been hoping was next. His ice-gray eyes searched mine as if looking for agreement and my breathing came faster, my underwear dampened.
