He realized both Miriam and John were looking at him expectantly, Miriam with a small, knowing smile on her lips, John with his eyebrows raised. Paul’s rehearsed speech vanished from his head and he found himself blurting, “I’m in love with her. I’m in love with Alexis Stewart. And she’s in love with me.”
John’s eyebrows went even higher, but Miriam just continued to smile. She placed her hand on Paul’s arm. “I wondered when you’d figure that out. Both of you.”
Paul laughed in spite of himself, his jangling nerves settling down at last. “You knew?”
“It was hard to miss. Marta saw it too. The way you drank each other in when you thought nobody was looking. I didn’t want to interfere, of course, especially during the contract tenure. I was hoping things would take their natural course after that. I guess you just jumped up the timeline a bit.” Her smile edged into a grin, her eyes sparkling.
“She ran,” John said, frowning. “I understand the circumstances are unusual, but she should be brought to task for such an egregious breach. She needs to be punished.”
“If she were to remain as your trainee, John, I would agree,” Miriam interjected. She turned to Paul. “But she’s not, is she, Paul.” She said it as a statement, not a question.
Paul shook his head in agreement, marveling as he often did at Miriam’s insight and understanding of human nature. “No. She wants to petition to break the contract. I—we agreed she’s learned what she can from you, John.” He turned to his friend. “Which was a great deal. She’s incredibly grateful for all you’ve done for her. But something happened last night. Between us.”
He leaned forward, wanting them to understand, needing them to understand. “She flew last night in the barn. It was the most incredible thing. That brick wall she talked about in her essay—the wall of resistance you came up against over and over throughout her training, John. It just”—he paused a moment—“fell away. I flogged her after we”—he felt himself blushing and knew that was ridiculous, given the circumstance, so he forced himself to continue—“made love. It was the missing piece for her, you see. She needed the intimacy of what we’d shared prior to the flogging in order to get to that place. All the training and discipline in the world wasn’t going to get her there without that. She needed something more. She needed...” he paused, trying to come up with the word.
“You,” Miriam supplied.
“Yeah.” Paul grinned, and his heart felt as if it were filled with helium, as if he might just rise up into the air from sheer joy.
~*~
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of discussion, activity and upheaval, yet
during it all Alexis felt surer of what she was doing than at any time in her life. It felt so right, as if her entire existence had been leading to this moment, to this man, to this life.
Master John took over Trisha’s training so Paul and she could focus on each other. It hadn’t taken too much soul searching to recognize that she was ready to leave her old life behind. She resigned from her job at the accounting firm, ready to assume her new life as a staff slave at The Compound. Her duties would include taking over the financial management of the place, which Miriam had been handling on her own, and, according to a laughing Miriam, not well.
Alexis informed her landlord she wouldn’t be renewing her lease, which as luck would have it was over at the end of the month. It was, she thought, just another sign from the universe that she was on the right path.
Back in the city, Paul helped her pack her things, and she shared the significance of this memento and that photo. They swapped stories of their childhoods, their careers and past relationships as they worked, stopping every few hours when the need for each other overtook them both.
The power and the passion between them still stunned her each time they made love. Paul claimed her not only with his body, but with the whip, with rope, with such intensity and passion it left her breathless.
“I’ll never get used to this,” she mused one evening as they lay in each other’s arms after a particularly intense session that had left her soaring.
“Never get used to what?” Paul asked.
“To all this.” She waved her hand vaguely, trying to find the right words. She found herself smiling at the sheer wonderment of it. “To you. To us. To how happy I feel now, like everything’s sparkling and new.”
Paul laughed. “I know. And I’ll do my best to make sure you always feel that way.” Pulling her closer, he dipped his head to hers and kissed her.
~*~
The night they’d been planning for had arrived. Alexis stood facing Paul in the
presentation room. Though she was aware of the other people in the room—the Masters and Mistresses seated on sofas and chairs, their slaves kneeling beside them, and the row of naked trainees kneeling up along the wall by the door—she felt calm, even serene, as she gazed into the love light shining from Paul’s golden-brown eyes.
It felt almost strange to be wearing clothing, having become so used to being naked while at The Compound. The long white silk dress draped softly over her body, hugging her breasts and creating a deep cleavage between them. Slits cut nearly to her hips on either side of the skirt revealed her bare legs. The fabric was sheer, accentuating rather than hiding her naked body beneath it, and she held herself proudly as she waited for the ceremony to begin.
Paul looked incredibly sexy in soft black leather pants over square-toed black boots. He wore a white silk shirt open at the throat, revealing his smooth, tan chest. Mistress Miriam rose from a sofa near the front of the room and approached the couple. She turned to face the room.
“Friends, we’re gathered here this evening to share in the joining ceremony of Master Paul and slave Alexis. After the collaring, they have chosen the cane to seal their bond.” She turned to them and smiled, handing each of them the gift they’d chosen for the other.
Paul went first, approaching Alexis with the slim black slave collar. She caught a glint of something gold at its center, something he must have added after their purchase. Paul held up the collar in his hands and she saw it was a small gold heart secured by a leather loop to the front of the collar.
Alexis bit her lip, blinking back the sudden tears that filled her eyes. Though Paul kept his gaze on her, he spoke loud enough so everyone in the room could hear his words. “Kneel before me,” he said in a commanding voice.
Alexis sank to her knees in front of her lover and bowed her head. “Alexis,” Paul continued, “with our friends as witness, with this collar I claim you as my slave, and accept the loving gift of your submission and your grace.” Reaching back, Alexis gathered her hair, lifting it to bare her neck as Paul buckled the soft, supple leather collar around her throat.
Then, as they’d planned, Paul sank in turn to his knees, while Alexis rose to stand before him. She held up the gold chain they’d chosen together. She was afraid when she spoke that her voice would quaver, but it came out firm and clear. “Paul, with our friends as witness, with this chain I claim you as my Master, and accept the loving gift of your dominance, and the exchange of power that completes the circle of love between us.” She clasped the gold chain in place around his neck and he rose, his eyes burning into hers.
Alexis could feel the beaming smiles of their friends around them. Paul and Alexis smiled at one another and Alexis felt as if her heart would burst with happiness.
As Paul had instructed her beforehand, Alexis slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders and let it fall to her feet. The room quieted as Master John approached the couple holding a long, thin cane with a suede-covered handle. Alexis held out her hands, palms up, and Master John placed the cane in her hands. A ghost of a smile moved over his face as he regarded her, and then he gave a small nod in Paul’s direction and returned to his seat.
Alexis remained in position, the cane balanced on her palms as Paul stepped behind her. He gathered her hair into a ponytail, using a gold ribbon to tie it before placing it o
ver her shoulder. He returned to stand in front of her. Alexis lifted her arms higher, offering her Master the cane.
He took it and nodded, his eyes sparked with fire. “I love you,” he said so softly only she could hear, and his words moved through her like strong wine, warming her to her toes.
Standing in profile to the room, Alexis lifted her arms, locking her fingers behind her neck. Paul stepped behind her. Her heart quickened as she felt the light tapping of the cane against her skin.
Though she’d flown several more times during their lovemaking over the weeks leading to this night, it had always been either with the flogger, or during a long, intense spanking, his hard hand perfect against her ass. Earlier that evening she had expressed her fear to Paul that she might not be able to slip into that altered state from the stinging cut of a cane.
“I don’t want you to focus on that, darling,” he’d reassured her, “That’s not what tonight is about. It’s about giving yourself to me completely and without reservation. If you don’t fly in front of them, don’t worry about it. Your focus should be entirely on me, and on the experience I give you. Your goal isn’t to fly. Your goal is to submit.”
Remembering his words, she took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly, feeling the mantle of her submission settle over her like a warm, comforting blanket. He focused on her ass and the backs of her thighs, the bite of the cane intensifying with each stroke. Alexis pressed her lips together, not wanting to cry out, though the steady slice of the cane was setting fire to her skin.
In spite of her fervent desire to let go, she felt herself tensing. She could feel the eyes of the people in the room on her—Master John with his implacable gaze, Mistress Miriam with her knowing smile. Arthur, her play partner from the club was there, having come all the way from the city to share in this special night. It was because of him that she’d learned of The Compound. She couldn’t let him down.
She could feel the welts rising on her flesh, and the sweat pricking under her arms. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming in pants. She thought of Marta, with her sweet and constant encouragement, and of Wendy, who showed such incredible courage during the branding, and of Rachelle, who had flown with such ease and grace beneath Master Clarence’s loving touch.
“I love you,” Paul murmured softly, his lips brushing her ear.
At that moment Alexis felt the room fall away. Anxiety, expectation, anticipation melted away beneath the heat of Paul’s love. For the first time that evening Alexis felt herself truly let go.
The bite of the cane was no less intense. If anything, Paul was striking her harder than before, each cut preceded by the whipping sound of rattan arcing through the air the split second before contact. Yet she could feel the pain ebbing away, and all at once she felt herself lifting, her spirit leaving her body to glide with perfect grace over the vast, deep blue of an endless ocean. She could feel the sun warm on her back, and the embrace of the warm water enveloping her.
Her head fell back, her lips parting, her heart slowing, beating in time to each biting, perfect stroke of the cane. She was vaguely aware that the caning continued, but she no longer registered the pain. Or more precisely, she welcomed it, taking it deep inside and spinning it outward into a pure, white light that filled her with utter peace and a quiet, barely contained joy.
~*~
Paul lowered the cane, letting it drop softly to the carpet. He could feel the collective awe around them as they watched the lovely woman, who stood still as a living statue, the only movement the slow rise and fall of her breathing. He moved closer, feeling the heat of her skin as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She leaned back into him, letting her full weight fall against him.
Paul bent down and placed one arm behind her knees, scooping Alexis into his arms. He carried her to the loveseat that had been set aside for just this purpose, and lowered himself down into it. She opened her eyes slowly, as if waking from a long, restful sleep. As her eyes focused on his face, Alexis broke into a smile filled with such joy and pleasure that Paul thought his heart would crack.
They both turned their heads at the sound of champagne corks popping. John and Wendy approached, each carrying two glasses. Paul helped Alexis to a sitting position beside him, and they each took an offered glass.
John raised his glass in a toast. “To Alexis, who has joined the unique family that is The Compound.” John winked at her as the four of them clinked glasses. “Good job, kiddo.”
Wendy added, “To Miriam, who created a place where dreams really do come true.” Paul turned to Alexis, eyes only for her, as he added softly, “To us.”
And all at once she understood.
All her life she had yearned for true submission, and sought it in the wrong places, again and again and again. She would have continued to fail, she realized now, no matter how well trained she became, no matter how intense her desire to succeed. For her, the need and ability to submit weren’t enough, and never would be. For her there had to be more. There had to be love.
Love was the key.
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Here’s a sneak peek at Book 2 – Beyond the Compound
Chapter 1
The slave stood perfectly still, arms raised high over her head, crossed at the wrists. Her eyes seemed turned inward, as if she were lost inside a dream. The only hint she was suffering, indeed, that she was even aware of what was happening to her, was the slight wince that moved like a whisper of wings over her features when the whip found its mark.
The Mistress stood to the side of the slave, who faced George in all her naked splendor. Her breasts were marked with a pleasing pattern of thin red lines left behind by the perfectly aimed strokes of the whip. When the tip caught her nipple, a small sigh escaped the woman’s parted lips and a tremor moved through her lithe form.
“Focus,” Mistress Miriam commanded in a low, clear voice. She struck the other nipple with the knotted tip of the whip, and the slave girl’s composure slipped a little more. She bit her lower lip and George could see the sheen of perspiration on her face and throat. “Remember why you exist,” the Mistress intoned. “You were born for this, Hailey. Let the pain take you where you need to go.”
The slave girl nodded slightly, serenity once again suffusing her delicate features. She had a narrow face, large dark blue eyes and shoulder-length blond hair, the kind that wasn’t any one color, but more like a blend of pale ash, buttery yellow and shimmering gold.
“Turn,” the Mistress commanded, and the woman pivoted slowly, arms still raised and crossed over her head. Christ, her ass was perfection itself—two round, lush globes absolutely made for spanking. George shifted on the sofa, using the contract he held in his hands to hide his sudden erection—not that anyone was looking at him.
The other bidder was focused squarely on the two stunning women in front of the huge stone fireplace. He didn’t look much over forty, no gray yet in his slicked-back blond hair. He looked like one of those Wall Street investment banker types dressed down for the weekend, consciously casual in rumpled linen pants and Gucci loafers with no socks.
George shifted his gaze back where it belonged. The slave girl was now panting, making sexy little sounds not unlike a woman nearing orgasm, as if the whip were a cock, instead of leather, and stroking her cunt, instead of brutally marking her ass and thighs. She wasn’t merely enduring this whipping with grace—she loved it. She craved it. She was perfect. He had to get her, no matter the cost.
Finally Mistress Miriam lowered the whip. “You may thank me,” she said imperiously, and the girl, her entire body trembling, lowered herself as gracefully as a ballerina to the floor and pressed her pretty mouth to the toe of Mistress Miriam’s shoe.
Mistress Miriam stepped back. “Kneel, at ease, facing the gentlemen,
” she commanded. The girl lifted herself so her back was straight. Still on her knees, she pivoted so she faced the room. She rested her hands, palms up, on her thighs, her eyes appropriately downcast, though George could see the strength in her bearing and pride in the lift of her chin.
That was all to the good. George had never favored timid, simpering women. He liked them strong and sassy—all the more fun to whip them—metaphorically and literally—into shape. At the same time, she had to be willing and eager to accept whatever devious torture her Master’s active imagination and even more active libido could devise. What’s more, she needed to know how to keep her mouth shut, not only during her tenure, but afterward.
George glanced down at the contract he held in his hands. Six months—the timeframe was a little long, and the starting price a little steep, but it was still within budget. The girl, of course, was disease free and also on birth control, a definite plus. Naturally he’d had to provide a clean bill of health as well. Everything else looked to be in order. No question, The Compound ran a first class operation.
George, an attorney by profession, though he no longer actively practiced, was aware this contract would never withstand the scrutiny of a court of law. It was illegal to sell one person to another, even if that person was complicit in the sale and would be handsomely paid at the end of the term. You weren’t allowed to buy a sex slave and keep her under lock and key, there solely to do your sexual bidding and accept whatever erotic tortures you chose to mete out.
No matter—no courts would be involved in the process. George knew the slaves trained at The Compound received the finest education in the art of erotic submission, which included absolute obedience. In a word, Compound slaves knew to keep their mouths shut.
The Compound: The Compound Trilogy - Book 1 Page 16
