Slave To Love

by Bridget Midway

  Lord No, on the other hand, simply left. He didn’t approach her.

  Taren took her seat again. “Why did you seem so surprised that I chose Lord No?”

  “I know him from local clubs. He is truly silent but deadly, not that he’ll kill you. But after he’s done with you, you may wish for death.” Macabre shivered.

  Taren didn’t want to be sheltered anymore. Time to rip off the Band-Aid. Now she couldn’t wait to see the other offerings.

  ****

  “Please keep your masks on, even in this room,” a production assistant called Soneni said as she walked through the picked contestants and remaining contestants milling around one of the spare bedrooms used as a production area. “Cameras are everywhere so you have to keep your masks in place. The only area you can remove your mask is in the bathrooms.”

  “Wow.” A tall, African-American man shook his head. “I didn’t sign up for this.” He tugged on his black leather mask that blended well into his dark skin tone.

  “This was outlined in everyone’s contract. Should not be a surprise to anyone.” The young woman shook her head until the Dom who had spoken stepped into her path and glared at her.

  She swallowed hard, glanced around, and stepped aside to leave the room.

  Jace didn’t mind having to wear the masks. From what he could tell by glancing at the contestants, he pretty much knew the identity of each of them. He’d played side by side with them at Club 4400. Some he recognized by their voices.

  He hoped no one recognized him. He didn’t want anyone calling foul because Eagan Morton’s little brother had joined the mix. He didn’t think it would give him an unfair advantage. He didn’t need the rest of them to think the show had been rigged. For all he knew, Taren may not pick him. He’d chosen to wear a full hood that covered him from the top of his head down to his neck. He suspected that the cleft in his chin would give him away.

  Jace paced to ease some of his anxieties. Flat-screened TVs sat on a couple of tables and desks in the room. Cords ran alongside the baseboards like reluctant snakes, looking for shelter.

  He couldn’t sit. He looked at Taren on one of the TV screens and couldn’t break his stare. She looked beautiful, if not uncomfortable, in her white dress. The cameraman managed to catch a shot of her cleavage. Damn, he’d had his hands on those luscious tits earlier that morning.

  He had to get into that room. If he had to watch another Dominant go after her to be chosen, he would have to slam his fist through a wall.

  From what he could tell as he guessed the identity of each contestants, Vern had done a good job of getting the hardest Doms and Dommes in the area. It didn’t shock him to see Dominina Destruction go off the way she had on Taren. He wanted to be in the room to pull the fiery woman back. Luckily Sire Swift had been there to help when the security guards had gotten there too late.

  The ones Taren had already picked had been the worst of the bunch. Taren had no idea what she’d done to herself. No, this had all been his fault. In his pursuit of trying to take down his brother and Ananda, he’d let an innocent bystander get caught in the middle.

  “Don’t sweat it, man.”

  Jace turned when he heard the voice directed at him. He saw a Dom he’d often butted heads with at Club 4400. He recognized the bottom half of his face that he could see, and his voice.

  Fear, as he called himself in the scene, stood and strolled over to him. He stood about the same height as Jace. His dark eyes matched his skin tone and the intent in his heart. Jace had seen the carnage after a play session with him. He’d left play bottoms hanging by chains by their wrists covered in sweat, blood, and tears. Jace could be sadistic, but not to Fear’s level.

  “When she picks me, I’ll be sure to leave a little bit of her for you to play with.” Fear placed his hand on Jace’s shoulder and laughed.

  Jace shrugged him off and took a step forward. “You’re so sure she’ll pick you? You have a lot of competition.”

  Fear glared at him before moving back to his seat. “I’m not concerned.” He sat down slowly and eased himself back like a king in his throne. “If she picks me, great. I will treat her like I treat all of my play bottoms. If she doesn’t, that’s okay, too. I’m not that hard up for company or money.”

  Jace turned away from him. He hadn’t been that desperate for money. Having it would help him get to the next level of his business faster. He couldn’t think about that now.

  The door opened to the room. Lord No strolled inside and took a seat. Master Flame removed his mask.

  “No!” Soneni rushed toward Flame as he gathered his belongings and walked out without another word. “We want to interview you. Wait.” She followed him out the door.

  Jace didn’t blame the man. He would probably do the same thing when Taren rejected him. If Taren rejected him. She hadn’t pushed him away after being at the club. His body tingled when he thought about her touch, her need. He wanted her again.

  “Next we want Principal and Twist,” a stagehand bellowed.

  Pleasure Principal prided himself on being a firm disciplinarian if Jace remembered him from a few years ago. The Hispanic man adjusted his white leather eye mask and smoothed his hands down his jacket.

  Miss Twist rose to her feet. In her heels, she stood as tall as some of the men there. Her slender frame, golden honey skin tone, and long, stick-straight, dark brown hair made her look like a model. Of course, when Jace first met her, she went by Sir Twist. The reassignment surgery went well for her. It did make him wonder if her disciplining style had changed as well.

  What she did for fun had been far from model behavior. She liked seeing her submissives squirm. In his head, Jace had hoped Taren would pick Pleasure Principal. He’d seen both playing styles. Principal could be hard, but he prided himself on doing a lot of aftercare.

  Both contestants nodded to each other before walking out of the room. Jace could barely contain his nerves. He went over to a buffet station and poured himself a glass of water even though his mind begged for him to smoke.

  He glanced at Lord No, who happened to be glaring at Jace. Jace had seen the man working before. It amazed him how No got his submissives and slaves to submit to him without saying a word.

  He also understood the meaning behind his mask, one that covered his mouth. Jace suspected that even with his full hood on, No knew his identity. At one time, the two had played hard together. Then came the falling out. The change. Too much time had passed between the two of them to rewrite history. Lord No looked away.

  “This is all strange, don’t you think?”

  Jace recognized the voice of another Dom he used to hang with when he did the club scene. Master Rock strolled toward him. Of all the Doms and Dommes there, he had to be the most sadistic. Top three in the room had to be Rock, No, and Fear. Taren had already chosen Lord No.

  “It’s no different than in a club.” Jace shook Rock’s hand. “You meet someone at a club, you get a few minutes before the sub decides if you’re a good fit.” He shrugged.

  “Guess I’m not used to subs. I like my play bottoms. You know what you’re getting.” Rock scanned the room. “I’m Master Rock.”

  Guess the big man didn’t recognize Jace. Good.

  He shook Rock’s hand. “Master—” He hesitated. Should he go by his old name of Master Christian? Should he adopt his new name and call himself Master Jace? Or split the difference and be Master C.J.? He stopped mulling the prospects over and repeated himself. “I’m Master.” Period.

  “Good to meet you.” Rock stared at the screen. “Do you know who this Taren woman is?”

  Jace knew what Taren felt like. He knew touching her body had him wanting more. He knew she blurted random items at the height of ecstasy. All of that didn’t mean he knew her.

  He shook his head. “Not really, only that she knew some contestant from the first show.”

  “Just wondering why she would want this group. Hope she likes it rough.” Rock cocked his head.


  “Yeah.” Jace had to make this right.

  He glanced at the screen to see Taren questioning Principal and Twist.

  “What’s your favorite form of play?” Taren asked.

  “Macabre looks good.”

  Jace recognized the voice of Sadistic Bastard behind his jarring black-and-red hood. Bastard stood next to Jace as he stared at the screen.

  “You ever played with her before she started topping?” Bastard nodded toward the screen.

  Jace knew who he meant. “No.” He didn’t go on any further. He had no need to explain his absence from the scene.

  “She likes to be strung up on an overhead bar and have it raised off the floor.” He put his hand parallel to the floor and moved it up to simulate the motion. “But not too high.” He shook his head. “No, she wants you to be able to whip her. Cane her. The harder the better.” He took a step closer to the screen. “Yep, there.” He pointed at the screen. “See that mark right there on the side of her neck? That’s where I bit her. She digs that.”

  “Interesting.” The more he talked, the more Jace wanted to get far away from him.

  “Yeah. She is a screamer.” Bastard turned to Jace. “And she loves to fuck.”

  Hearing that ran his blood ice cold. “You know you can’t have sex with her during the show.”

  “With who?”

  “Madame Macabre or Taren. It’s in the contract.”

  Bastard snickered. “Fucking Ego Morton fucked that other bitch all during the other show.”

  As much as Jace didn’t like his brother right now, he’d be damned if anyone else got to talk about him. “Easy. Different situation. Besides, the two are married now.”

  Bastard laughed this time. “If I’m the winner, I’m not marrying her.” He pointed to Taren. “As cute as she is, I have no interest in tying myself down. I like to do the tying.”

  Jace knew Bastard would say that joke.

  “I first have to see if she’s down for race play.” Bastard pulled a pair of black gloves from his pocket and slipped them on his hands.

  “What?” Jace wanted to be sure he heard the man clearly.

  “Race play. Macabre loved it.” Bastard glanced at Fear and leaned in close to Jace. He lowered his voice. “I call Macabre the N-word, and she’s practically gushing, especially while I’m caning her.”

  Jace clasped his hands together to prevent himself from knocking this asshole to the ground. “Taren may not be into that.”

  Bastard patted Jace on his shoulder. “You never know what they’re into until you try.”

  The door to the room swung open. Pleasure Principal waltzed inside and went directly to his luggage.

  “Need help getting all of these to your van.” Principal pointed to several of the stagehands in the area.

  Jace had spent so much time talking to Bastard that he’d missed Taren’s decision. “She chose you?” He pointed to Twist.

  “She liked that I’m into cupping. As soon as I said it, she made her decision.” Twist plopped down on a sofa. “Next.”

  As though she cued it, Soneni rushed into the room.

  Jace had hoped to be going next, or at least go against Bastard. If Fear and Rock went in together, he’d rather her pick Rock, even though he could be a hard Dom. At least Jace felt Rock could be reasoned with if his style got too intense. Fear looked like he fed off of, well, fear.

  “I need Fear.” The assistant pointed to the African-American man.

  Please pick me or Rock. Don’t pick that bastard.

  “And, um, Sadistic Bastard.” The assistant winced when she mentioned the name.

  Bastard cheered and pumped his fist in the air. “I’m ready.”

  Fuck. Jace glanced at Rock.

  “Looks like we’re the last duo.” Master Rock scratched his dark, neatly trimmed beard. “It’ll be interesting.”

  Interesting indeed. Jace paid attention to the screen and listened in on the interview. He noticed right away how Macabre’s posture straightened as soon as Sadistic Bastard walked into the room. Then she crossed her legs.

  Christ. Maybe Bastard had a point about Macabre. For that reason, Bastard should own Macabre and not even compete. Why would the man want to do this show if he had a favorite play bottom?

  He listened in on the interview. Jace prayed in his head that Taren would go for the best option. At this point, Jace couldn’t discern who that would be, the arrogant jerk Fear or the racist fucker Sadistic Bastard.

  “What’s your favorite form of play?” Taren asked both men.

  “Come on. Fuck up.” Jace rocked back and forth as he awaited for them to answer.

  “I’m into impact play.” Fear drummed his fingers on the table. “I dig the sound when an object hits against flesh.” To punctuate his statement, he slapped his large hands, making both Macabre and Taren jump.

  “Oh, okay.” Taren wrote something in her book. Then she turned to Bastard. “And you? What do you like?”

  Jace noticed Macabre rub the back of her neck before she brought her hand down to the side, the same place Bastard pointed out that he bit during their play session.

  Bastard tapped his finger against his head. “I like getting into your head. The mind is an awesome playground. It has no limits. With a blindfold, I can have you imagining all sorts of things.”

  Taren smiled a little and nodded.

  No. She didn’t understand the full ramifications of Bastard’s statement. Jace hoped she didn’t think that because he wouldn’t be pushing her body like Fear that a little mind play would be harmless.

  “Keep talking. Keep talking.” Jace wanted Bastard to reveal his true self. He only scratched a tiny surface.

  “I think I’ve made my decision.” Taren placed her pen down.

  “Good. A black bitch who can decide something quickly. I love it.” Bastard laughed until he took stock of the room.

  Taren stared at him with her mouth agape. Macabre bowed her head. Fear looked like he wanted to rip the man’s head off his shoulders. Jace couldn’t have been happier that the idiot slipped up like that.

  “I choose Fear.” Taren stood right away as though to signal that she needed both men to leave.

  Bastard stood and looked like he wanted to head toward Taren until Fear grabbed his collar.

  “The door is that way.” Fear pushed him toward the door.

  “Get your fucking hands off me!” Bastard straightened out his clothes. “I’m not a racist.” He volleyed his attention between Macabre and Taren. “Mackie, tell her.”

  Macabre shook her head. “This isn’t the club. Not every person likes all things deviant. Just a few.” She exhaled.

  Jace did the same.

  “What a dick.” Rock shook his head as he walked away from the TV screen.

  Jace remained glued until he watched Fear shaking Taren’s hand before leaving.

  “Okay, gentlemen. You two are the last ones.” Soneni pointed to the door. “You ready?”

  “Sure.” Rock headed to the door first. He passed Bastard and purposely knocked his shoulder into the man.

  “Hey, unnecessary.” Bastard swung around and yelled at Rock as he walked out of the room.

  Jace passed Fear when he walked out of the room.

  “Told you she would pick me.” Fear winked at Jace.

  Jace would have one opportunity with Taren. He couldn’t mess this up.

  Both men stepped into the dining room area at the same time. Jace connected his stare to Taren immediately. The air felt charged and thick. A buffer existed between their bodies that he felt compelled to sit in one of the chairs down at the end of the table away from her.

  Rock sat across from him. He, too, kept his stare on Taren. Jace noticed Taren’s full attention remained on him.

  “Um, thank you, gentlemen,” Taren said. “I know it’s been a long day. You’re the last two I get to interview.” She smiled. “Looks like they saved the best for last.”

  Jace sat up taller.

&
nbsp; “And someone smells really good.” Taren tucked her hair behind her ear as she dropped her gaze to her paper.

  “Let’s get started on the interview.” Macabre nodded toward the men.

  “Yes. Please introduce yourselves.” Taren glanced at both of them.

  Master Rock started first. “I’m Master Rock. I’ve been in the lifestyle all of my adult life. I’m a sadist. I enjoy impact play, but I’m also into other forms of physical play like kidnapping and interrogation.”

  Taren kept quiet and nodded as she scribbled some notes.

  “One thing that I enjoy most is after every play session, I love doing aftercare. There’s something so personal and intimate about holding a person that you’ve pushed to the absolute limits and have her draped in your arms feeling appreciative and thankful.” Rock held up his hand. “I sometimes put my hand on her chest over her heart to feel her heartbeat slowing down. If she falls asleep, I know I’ve done my job.”

  Taren smiled at Rock’s answer. It took her a moment to turn to Jace. When she did, she reconnected her stare with him like she had when he’d first arrived. “And you?”

  Jace thought about his answer. He recalled how he first got into the lifestyle and the first time a whip he wielded connected to a submissive’s skin.

  “My name is Master. My favorite play is whatever makes my submissive react the most.” Jace’s chest opened up as he revealed himself. “If she likes to be spanked, I’ll do that. If she’s into caning, I’ll get a good one and wear her out. I’ve found that getting her reaction fuels me. I can do anything with the right woman.”

  Taren gasped after he answered. To Jace, it looked like her breathing had increased, and not in a good way. If didn’t know any better, he would swear she appeared panicked. She picked up a glass of water, and Jace noticed her hand shaking.

  “Do we need to stop?” Jace asked.

  Taren shook her head. “No. I’ve made my decision.” She stared at Rock for a while before she brought her attention to Jace.

  Now Jace noticed she glared at him.

  She turned to Rock. “I’m so sorry, Master Rock. I’m choosing Master.” Taren lowered her head as though she regretted her decision.