Slave To Love (21 page)

Taren nodded. “I’ve made my decision.” She glanced at Macabre before announcing whom she had picked. “I’m choosing Sire Ball.”

Mr. Punisher snickered and shook his head. “Enjoy your nap with this one.” He pointed to Ball by jutting his thumb over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

Sire Ball stood and sauntered toward Taren. Remembering what Mistress Night had asked her to do, Taren stood to greet him. She held out her hand. Instead of taking it, he held onto her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace.

“This will be a great experience. Trust it.” He whispered the words in her ear. Then he kissed her temple before letting her go and exiting the room.

Although with his physique and voice, Taren found Sire Ball appealing, the intimate gesture didn’t have her feeling like she did with Jace. She peered out of the dining room, not to watch Sire Ball walk away from them, but to see if she could find Jace.

He’d wanted to talk to her, and she freaked and froze. She stood in front of him feeling like a failure, like the person Dori said Taren would always be: flighty, impulsive, unreliable.

Taren felt a tap on her arm.

“Next two. Halfway there.” Macabre nodded.

Taren blinked when she saw the two men. The first man had on a black leather eye mask, similar to the other contestants. He carried a rich, dark mahogany complexion that, coupled with his curly black hair, had her imagining that he may be of Indian descent. Black leather gloves covered his hands. Like the others, he wore a black suit, but with no tie. He left his crisp, white shirt unbuttoned at the top.

The man behind him had her knees knocking again. He covered his neck and bottom half of his face with something that looked like a half neck brace and half mask. She saw his face from his eyes up. He had his blond hair parted to the side and styled neatly like a businessman. What businessman would wear a getup like that? He had his mouth completely covered. How did he expect to relay his answers to her?

Macabre cleared her throat, which made Taren look at her. “Please, gentlemen, have a seat. We’ll begin.” She nodded to Taren.

“Yes.” She looked at the first man only because she knew how he would answer her. The other guy would be a mystery.

“What is your name?” Taren picked up her pen.

“I go by Master Flame.”

Taren detected a slight accent, maybe English. For that, he got a ton of cool points. She would love hearing a man like that give her direction.

“Interesting name. How did you come up with that?” She wrote his name on her notepad as she awaited his answer.

He smiled. “I like fire.” He raised his hands and waved his fingers as though he had it underwater, slow and rhythmic. “I know ways to dance a controlled flame across your skin to make you feel warm and hot, if you know what I mean.” He winked. “Fire can be sexy. You flirt with danger.”

Taren related to that statement. She’d selected four people already who could be her Dom or Domme. Never in her life did she believe she could do that.

It took all of her might to break away from talking to Master Flame and look at the intimidating man in the leather collar. He glared at her, then directed his attention to Madame Macabre. He pointed to Macabre, then pointed to Taren.

“This is Lord No.” Macabre pointed at the second contestant.

“I’m sorry.” Taren placed her pen down. “Did you just say Lord No?”

Macabre nodded. “Yes. He doesn’t speak.”

Taren felt her eyebrows knit together as she looked at him. “Is he deaf?”

Macabre shook her head. “He can hear you. He doesn’t talk.”

Taren stared at him for a moment. “How can he dominate without speaking?”

Before Macabre could answer, Lord No pulled out a red ball and rolled it across the table to Taren, who managed to catch it before it fell into her lap. She held the rubbery item in her hand.

Lord No snapped his fingers at her. When she connected her gaze to his blue-eyed one, he held up his hand. He nodded his head and balled his hand into a fist as though holding an invisible ball himself. When he shook his head, he opened his hand.

“So if I like something you’re doing, I need to squeeze the ball.” To test her statement, Taren added pressure to the orb. “If I don’t like it, I can let it go.” She splayed her fingers open, dropping the ball and making it bounce off the table.

Lord No nodded.

As intimidated as he looked, Taren couldn’t help but feel intrigued with the idea of being with a man who couldn’t communicate traditionally but knew how to dominate. She wanted to experience that challenge.

“I’ve made my decision.” Taren leaned over to Macabre. “I choose Lord No.”

Both Macabre and Master Flame blinked.

“Really?” Macabre asked. “Are you sure?”

Taren nodded. “This isn’t Romper Room, remember?”

“Okay. Lord No it is.”

Master Flame stood first. Unlike the other contestants she’d dismissed, Flame walked over to Taren as soon as she stood. He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said before releasing her hand and exiting the room.

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.