Slave To Love

by Bridget Midway

  “If you don’t do anything, you’ll be eliminated automatically. You know that, right?” Macabre stepped up to the group.

  Bubbles grabbed Lord No’s arm and turned him around so that he faced her. “What are you doing? You have to do something to her.”

  Lord No removed the contract he’d signed with Bubbles from an inside jacket pocket. He opened it and pointed to a clause in it.

  Bubbles lowered the contract. “I know it says you won’t be with anyone else. This is different. Please don’t do this.”

  Lord No shook his head.

  “Then I’m sorry, Lord No. You’ve been eliminated from the show. Therefore, Bubbles is also eliminated.”

  “Shit. Shit. I can’t believe you did this to me. You knew what this meant for me.” Bubbles started to walk away from him.

  He tried holding her hand, but she shrugged out of his grip. Before she could walk out of the room, he stopped her…with his voice.

  “Anya! I l-l-l-love y-y-y-you.”

  The room fell silent. Bubbles turned around and looked at Lord No with her mouth agape. He pulled off his mask and marched over to her.

  “Holy shit! That dude is hotter than fish grease.” Solo fanned her face as she watched the duo.

  As Lord No held Bubbles’s face in his hands, he repeated himself. “I l-l-l-love y-y-y-you.”

  “Oh, my God. He talks?” Sweetheart looked around at the other ladies. “Did any of you know that?”

  “I did.” Bubbles wiped the tears from her cheeks. “He stopped talking years ago because of his severe stutter.” She shook her head. “Why are you bowing out now? You had a chance to make it to the final two.”

  Lord No took her hand and placed it over his heart.

  “I love you, too. I love you so much.” She kissed him, which made the crew applaud. She pulled back and had a serious look on her face. “I needed the money for my mother. You know that. If I leave now, I’ll get so much less.”

  Lord No shook his head. This time he put his hand over her heart. He also took her right hand and removed the ring he had given her at the beginning of the show. He moved it over to her left hand and lowered himself to one knee.

  Bubbles giggled and nodded her head. “Yes, I will marry you. Yes, yes, yes!”

  Lord No stood and picked her up and swung her around.

  “I hate to break up this moment, but Bubbles, you had mentioned that you had to go because Lord No got eliminated.” Macabre walked over to Bubbles and Lord No.

  “Yes. Isn’t that still the case?” Bubbles held Lord No’s hand.

  “Not necessarily.” Macabre looked at the crew. “Bring him in.”

  Taren could only see Bubbles and Lord No’s expression. As soon as Bubbles gasped, Taren struggled to get to her feet. Who she saw also had her floored.

  Master Rock strolled into the dungeon area in his mask. “Hi, folks.”

  “Since Sire Swift got eliminated so quickly and without a full show, I decided to bring back Master Rock.” Macabre pointed to him. “Isn’t that great?”

  “No.” Fear shook his head. “It was down to the top two. Now I have to eliminate this guy.”

  “Good luck with that.” Master Rock glared at him.

  “Needless to say, Bubbles, Master Rock will need a slave.” Macabre smiled before making her offer. “You can stay and be his slave.”

  Bubbles looked at Lord No, her fiancé. “No, I’m leaving with Silas.”

  “Silas?” Taren and Solo said together.

  Lord No kissed Bubbles and walked out with her. Jace wished Master Rock would have left with them.

  “Ladies, I’ll need you two to bunk together so that these remaining contestants can have a room each.” Macabre directed the slaves to go pack up their things. “Now the games can begin.” Macabre smiled as she followed Master Rock to his new room.

  Jace didn’t know what bringing Rock back to the competition would do. He needed to keep an eye on this situation.

  Chapter Thirty

  Taren had been hit with too many surprises these last few days. First she’d been shocked by both playing styles from Fear and Jace. Fear had been tough but compassionate. She knew he would be hard. She hadn’t expected him to be so caring afterward.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised by Jace’s handling of the whip. She couldn’t believe her reaction. She never thought that getting popped with a whip would push her arousal level up. She remembered rubbing herself against Jace and feeling his hardness underneath her.

  Taren didn’t care if every camera in the world had been trained on her. She would have fucked Jace. Luckily he managed to calm her down enough that the feeling subsided.

  The new wrinkle in her game had to be the introduction of Master Rock. If he hadn’t been pitted against Jace, Taren would have picked him in her top eight. No question. Before Rock showed up, her two remaining contestants had their pros and cons.

  Fear could be masterful at scenes he knew how to do well. With her, he had come around to show off a vulnerable side. He also didn’t mind if Taren had a lover on the side as long as he got to play with her exclusively. She could have her cake and eat it, too.

  Jace. Mmm, Jace. He not only knew how to play with her body, he got her to come like no one else. If she could get him to believe in love and commitment, he would be a keeper.

  Master Rock either had to be a glutton for punishment or super confident that he would win this whole thing coming in at the last moment.

  So, Taren had one Dom with no heart. Another Dom afraid to commit. The last Dom may have a few screws loose in his head. Now she felt like Dorothy in a kinky Wizard of Oz.

  A few days had gone by so Taren knew taping time had to be coming up again. As expected, her glam squad appeared at her door, ready to make her up for the day.

  “So what’s the look for today?” Taren sat at the vanity, ready to be made up for the taping.

  “You haven’t been told yet?” Priscilla asked.

  Taren turned around to face the group. “What?”

  “All week it’s anything goes. Each man will have you for a day to do whatever he wants. After the third day, you’ll eliminate someone. Then the following week, you’ll go home with your final two to meet the fam.”

  “Oh.” Taren shouldn’t have been surprised.

  The same thing happened on Love My Way. She remembered vividly how Ananda’s mother slapped her for wearing a mask to the dinner table and declaring her devotion to a man, who she didn’t know at the time if she would even marry. Taren knew her parents wouldn’t do that with whoever she brought home, but what would they say?

  Taren noticed the dress the stylist held. It looked dated, like something from the 1950’s. “Who’s that for?”

  “You, silly. You’re going to be with Master Rock today. His request: 50’s housewife.” Ms. Pittman waved the conservative dress around. “Not only does he want you in the dress, he also wants your underwear to be vintage also.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “And makeup.” The makeup artist pulled out a palette of colors.

  “I didn’t know this was a thing in BDSM.” Taren learned a lot in her short time in the lifestyle.

  After getting poured into a pointy bra, girdle-like panties with stockings held up with belts, and a tea-length day dress and black kitten heels, Taren didn’t feel like herself. The hairstylist gave her a demure style that got bobby pinned on one side and soft curls on the other. She wore easy makeup and matte red lipstick.

  “If you go out, here’s a purse, a hat, and gloves.” The stylist handed the items to Taren.

  “Again, you’ve got to be kidding.” She held the items and felt like she had stumbled into Halloween town or something.

  “Think about old shows like I Love Lucy or The Donna Reed Show.” Priscilla nudged Taren out of the room.

  “Who?” Taren asked as she headed down the stairs.

  “Kids.” She shook her head. “Go.”

  Tare
n walked down the stairs with the cameras on her every move. She could almost hear the light 50’s sitcom music in her head with each step. When she got to the kitchen, she froze. Master Rock sat at the table with a newspaper in his hand. Not a tablet. Not his phone. An actual black-and-white-and-read-all-over newspaper. He wore a light gray suit, complete with a thin black tie. Even in his mask, he looked incredibly handsome.

  He put the newspaper down and stared at her. He cocked his head, which made her look down at her attire. Did she do something wrong? He cleared his throat. This man’s fishing expedition had her baffled.

  Rock sighed. “Good morning, Taren.”

  “Oh, yes. Good morning, uh, Master Rock.”

  He gave her a solid head nod, then tapped the side of his face. She sauntered to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek that the mask and the beard didn’t cover.

  “You’re looking lovely today.” He admired her and smiled.

  “This old thing?” Taren thought her joke landed.

  Judging by Rock’s dour expression, it didn’t. He lifted the newspaper again to read it. “You’re late with breakfast.”

  Taren turned to the stove and sink. She’d been used to the house slaves making their meals. She had to adjust her thinking for today. “Sorry. What would you like?”

  “What I always have. Eggs over easy, toast, bacon, and coffee.”

  “Right.” She could do this.

  Rock didn’t ask for anything fancy. She could pop the bacon in the microwave, get the coffee maker going, and fry up a couple of eggs. She retrieved the necessary items from the refrigerator. When she opened the cabinet to get out a non-stick pan, cast-iron skillets lined the shelves.

  She turned to Rock, who stared at her with a whimsical expression. “Everything okay, dear?”

  “Yes. Sure.” She removed the pan and turned on the stove burner.

  She assumed if the crew took away the modern cookware that it also meant the microwave would also be removed. She scanned the counter. It had been eliminated, as well as the coffeemaker. Damn. Rock challenged her early. How the hell did the show manage to get these items so quickly?

  When the pan got hot enough, she placed several strips of bacon in it. She would use the fat from the bacon to fry up his eggs. Now the toaster. She looked on the counter and saw a mustard-yellow toaster. Thankfully that made sense to her.

  She retrieved a plate, utensils and a napkin for him. She decided that as she dressed the table, she would make small talk. “So what is it that you do?”

  Master Rock didn’t respond. He didn’t lower the newspaper.

  “Okay.” She returned to the bacon and flipped it over. When she turned around, she didn’t expect to see Rock standing right behind her.

  “When I’m reading, I don’t want to talk, understand?” His voice came out low and guttural.

  “Yes, sir.” Taren backed into a corner.

  “When you misbehave, I’ll put you over my knee and spank you.”

  Now Taren got the BDSM reference. “Gotcha.”

  Rock’s eyes widened.

  “I mean, yes, sir.”

  He returned to his seat. Taren returned to preparing him breakfast. When she had it completed, she put it all on his plate. After figuring out how to work the percolator, she poured him some coffee. Then she waited. She wanted to make sure everything had met his standards and if he needed anything else.

  After a beat, Master Rock put the newspaper aside and scanned his meal. “Looks good. I take milk and sugar for my coffee.”

  Taren went to the fridge and pulled out cream. She placed it on the table. Then she found a small sugar bowl that she hadn’t seen prior to that day. She placed that on the table.

  Rock poured the milk and scooped a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. He took a sip and nodded. Great. One obstacle down.

  “Kneel beside me.” Rock pointed to the floor next to him.

  Jace had done the same thing when they’d eaten dinner, only he provided her with a pillow. Rock let her rest her knees on the hard tile floor. At least she knew better than to make food for herself.

  “Now that I’m not reading, what questions did you have for me?” He cut a piece of his eggs and ate it.

  “I need to know how the show managed all this. I cleaned this kitchen from top to bottom before filming and never saw any of these dated appliances.” Taren scanned the kitchen.

  “Prior to filming, the producers asked us what we would all do if we made it to this episode.” Rock adjusted his tie. “I’m assuming that they did a lot of shopping at thrift stores and eBay.”

  “What is it that you do?” She didn’t know if she could look at him or keep her stare straight ahead.

  “I own a trash collection company. Not very exciting, but it allows me to get that new washing machine that you’ve always wanted.” He stroked her head like a pet and continued eating.

  She smiled cordially. “How is your breakfast?”

  “Okay. I would have liked my bacon a little crisper. My toast is a little overdone. And my eggs have been cooked too long.”

  Taren didn’t know why she felt nervous all the sudden. “I’m sorry. I tried.”

  “Not hard enough.” Rock pushed back from the table. “Come on. Come across my lap.”

  Shit, he was serious about the punishment.

  Taren stood from the floor. She walked to him and stretched herself across his lap. When she felt her dress being hiked up, she held onto the leg of the chair. He didn’t pull her panties down, not that he could. No way could he maneuver through that fortress.

  “Count out the spanks.” He hit her cheeks five times in various spots.

  Taren counted each one of the hits, and loved each one. The stings resonated through her body like her own fireworks show. Thankfully her cone bra kept her hardened nipples strapped down. Even though the punishment came from Master Rock, Taren only thought of Jace. She even compared Rock’s spanking technique to Jace’s. Jace had Rock beat.

  After breakfast, Taren cleaned up the kitchen. Rock made her clean the downstairs as well, which meant vacuuming using a dated cleaner, scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees, and cleaning the windows. After each job, he did an inspection. After each inspection, he found something that required punishment.

  After a while, Taren started to do things on purpose in order to get spanked. They went to the farmer’s market for produce. Instead of apples, she purposely picked up pears. He saved that spanking for home. Although they pretended they lived during the 50’s, in this day and age where everyone had a cell phone with a camera, no need to get their kinky life on video for the world to see. At least not yet.

  When they returned to the house with camera crew in tow, Master Rock made Taren undress him and get out his clothes to relax by the pool.

  Taren tried hard not to look at his body. He made it impossible. The definition in his abs had her wishing for some chocolate or caramel to lick off him. He had broad shoulders that would have been perfect for a woman to hold, especially during sex. Each time she had that thought, she immediately implanted Jace in her mind.

  Master Rock had a great body, but Jace’s had been better. Rock smelled like expensive cologne. Jace smelled like a true man.

  Taren folded his clothes, then helped him put on shorts and a button-down, short-sleeved striped shirt. Coupled with some loafers, he looked ready for a dated soiree.

  “Thank you.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll take my drink out by the pool. A martini.”

  Damn. Sure, Taren had heard of the drink and even had a few appletinis in her day, but she’d never made one before.

  “I want meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and string beans for dinner with rolls. You can surprise me with dessert.” He patted her backside before exiting the room.

  “Jesus. Not a simple spank job.” Taren had a lot of work to do.

  Luckily, she liked cooking. She followed Rock outside where she found him lounging in a chair under a huge umbrella and the
other two contestants and their slaves at the other side of the pool.

  Taren made the mistake of making eye contact with Jace. He carried a look of concern as she rushed over to the bar area. She pulled out vodka but didn’t know what else needed to go in it. She did find olives.

  “Need help?”

  To hear Jace’s voice lifted her spirits. Her stomach quivered in excitement. She gazed up at him and hoped she didn’t look too harried.

  “I’ve never made a martini before.” She set the traditional martini glass on the bar.

  “It’s easy.” Jace placed a shaker container next to the martini glass. “It’s vodka, so you got that right. Vermouth and olives unless he wants a lemon twist. Did he say? Does he want it dirty?”

  “I think he likes everything dirty.” She snickered.

  “Taren, where’s my drink?” Rock called from his chair. He glared at her, ignoring Jace completely.

  “Coming.” She poured some vodka in the shaker.

  “I’ll leave you to this.” He started to walk away when he stopped and came back to her. “By the way, you always looked gorgeous, but I think I’d rather have you natural and scrubbed up.”

  She smiled as she poured the vermouth into the container. She dumped some ice in it as well before she shook it up. She did remember that from the James Bond movies. Shaken, not stirred.

  Taren poured the drink into a martini glass, then adorned it with two olives pierced with a toothpick. She went to Rock and handed him the drink. Since she knew she had a lot of work to do in the kitchen, she started to leave when Master Rock grabbed her hand to stop her.

  “Don’t leave until I taste this first.”

  Taren nodded and stood back as she watched him take a sip.

  He nodded. “Good. With practice, you’ll get better.” He picked up a magazine. “Now you may be excused.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Taren couldn’t decide if she liked this lifestyle or not.

  She didn’t feel she had a voice. If she wanted to live this way with Rock or any Dom she chose, she would be on board with it.

  Taren went through the kitchen like a whirlwind. From memory, she created the meatloaf mixture and got it in the oven to bake. Then she peeled potatoes for the mashed potatoes. No canned or frozen green beans existed in the house. She found a bag of fresh green beans in the refrigerator. Like she’d seen her grandmother do a million times, Taren got a bowl out and start snapping the ends of the beans off and breaking them in half before dumping them into a bowl. She put them in a pot of water on the stove.