Slave To Love (35 page)

He pulled down one that looked to be about three feet long. The handle comprised a foot of that. He returned to Sweetheart, who now had her large breasts exposed.

Jaced looked down at her. In his hood, he looked like an executioner. “I’m not going to lie. It’s been a few years since I’ve thrown a whip.”

Sweetheart swallowed hard. So did Taren. She had assumed that Jace had been active in the lifestyle. Taren chewed on the soft flesh inside her bottom lip as she listened to him.

“I want to try something with you, but I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?” He put his hand on Sweetheart’s shoulder.

“Of course, Master.” She smiled but it twitched to the side. Her nerves showed.

“You don’t have to trust me if you don’t. It won’t hurt my feelings.” Jace shook his head.

“But you could get eliminated.” Sweetheart looked at Taren.

It almost felt like Sweetheart glared at Taren. Wow. Taren never thought Sweetheart would get so territorial over Jace. Taren understood. Jace started to become a hell of a Dom in front of her eyes.

“Let me do some practice throws first.” Jace moved a few feet back from Sweetheart.

He swung his arm back and forth like a pendulum. He raised it in the air and flicked his wrist. The standard snapping sound that Taren had expected to hear didn’t happen. She noticed right away how the other contestants and slaves looked at each other when Jace couldn’t make the whip pop.

“Told you I was rusty.” He swung his long arm again. “Let’s try it one more time.”

He built up some momentum before he raised his hand in the air and attempted to crack the whip. Still nothing. When he took a step over, putting Sweetheart in the line of fire, Taren noticed the worried look on Sweetheart’s face.

Jace swung his arm like before. When he raised his hand in the air, Sweetheart put her hands up in front of her body.

“Red. Red.” She swallowed as she stared at him. Her breathing came out in shallow pants. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t. I—”

Jace put his hand on the side of her face. “It’s okay. I told you it wouldn’t hurt my feelings. You did the right thing. You have to establish trust before you allow anyone to play with your body.”

Sweetheart smiled and brushed her cheek against his hand. She resumed her spot with the other slaves.

“By the way.” Jace raised his hand up and proceeded to crack the whip several times over.

The smile on Sweetheart’s face slipped down as she and Taren watched the display. Jace picked up a piece of paper on a counter, threw it in the air, and as it floated down, he managed to snap the tail of the whip against it, not once, but twice, making streamers out of it.

“Trust is a funny thing.” Jace hung the whip back up on the wall. “Sometimes when no one else believes in you, that’s when you want to prove yourself.”

Sweetheart stood up from her kneeling position. “Master, I am so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Jace held up his hand. “Don’t be. It’s a trust exercise. It’s not real life.” He resumed his spot in front of her and kept his stare on Taren.

She couldn’t move. Jace had tricked her and everyone in the room with his act. Taren liked the lesson he imparted to her and the group. Trust had to be earned, not simply given.

Lord No didn’t wait for an invitation. He walked to a piece of furniture that looked like a chair and a rocker. He pushed it to the center of the room, then patted the back of it to signal Bubbles to come to him and take a seat.

Bubbles hesitated. Once she started moving toward him, she kept going until she got in front of the chair. No pointed to the seat.

Bubbles huffed and sat down. It took Lord No no time at all to strap her arms and ankles to the chair. He tilted her far enough back that he had her feet parallel to the floor. He locked her in place.

Taren didn’t know what Lord No had planned. She’d seen the Dominants use medical devices, a sword, and a whip. She didn’t know what he had in mind. Maybe he would cane her soles.

Not caning. Lord No pulled a feather from the counter and walked back to Bubbles. As soon as she saw the pink feather in his hand, she squirmed in her seat. He held the feather by her foot, then looked at her.

“Please don’t.” Bubbles shook her head.

In turn, Lord No shook his head. He dragged the feather up one foot slowly. Bubbles laughed so uncontrollably that Taren heard the wood creaking from her pulling on the restraints.

“Please! Please! Stop!” Bubbles shook her head.

Lord No flicked the feather over her other foot. Bubbles laughed so hard, she went into a coughing fit.

“Bubbles, if you want him to stop, use your safe word.” Macabre raised her voice so that Bubbles could hear her over the laughter.

“Red! Red! I give.” Bubbles shook her head, making her golden curls bounce back and forth.

Lord No sat her back up and locked her in place. It didn’t take him long to remove her from the restraints. Once freed, Bubbles stumbled back to her spot and collapsed to the floor.

Taren would have never guessed that tickling could be so draining. 

“Weak.” Fear shook his head. “Let me show you how real trust is established.”

He pulled Solo to the center of the room. He stormed over to a wall that had miscellaneous toys that didn’t fit into one category. He pulled something that looked like a World War II gas mask from the wall. This mask had been modified. The eye area had been blacked out so a person wearing it wouldn’t be able to see. Instead of a hose where it would be connected to an oxygen tank, it had a smaller hose.

“Put this on.” He threw the mask at her and stood in front of her. Fear rolled up his sleeves. “I want you to depend on me for everything.”

“Yes, sir.” Solo slipped the head gear on and secured it under her chin and around her face.

Fear must have not been convinced of her securing job. He grabbed the headgear on her and shook it. “Good. You have it on right. Now like I was saying, I want you to live and die by my actions.” He pinched the hose. “Including the air you breathe.”

Taren gripped the arms of the chair she sat in while she watched the display. Fear kept air from getting to Solo. It didn’t become evident until she started fidgeting around. She put her hand on his arm as though to signal to him to stop. He didn’t.

Macabre shifted in her seat as she watched him. She cleared her throat, but Fear kept his laser-like stare on Solo. Taren started to say something about the harsh treatment when Fear released the hose.

Solo bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to draw in several deep breaths. As soon as she righted herself, Fear pinched off the hose again. He glared at her as he continued with his rough treatment.

When Solo started beating her hand against his arm, the Dominants all reacted.

“We get it, Fear.” Bruiser took a step forward.

“You didn’t give her anything to hold to show you when she’s had enough. Let her breathe.” Swift started to move forward.

Fear held his hand up to the contestants. “Trust is a funny thing. You know if someone were to put a plastic bag over your head, do you know how most people react? They panic. They try pulling the bag off when all they need to do is tear the bag open.” He kept his stare on Solo who now started jerking back. “All she would need to do is remove the mask. She secured it. She knows how to remove it. Why hasn’t she done it?” He stared pointedly at Taren. “She trusts me that I’ll eventually let her breathe.” He snickered. “Eventually.”

Solo dropped down to her knees. Still Fear constricted the air flow to her.

“You son-of-a-bitch.”

Fear turned around in time for Sire Swift to land a punch across Fear’s face. Fear let the hose go when he fell to the floor. Jace and Lord No pulled Swift off Fear.

Taren covered her mouth in shock that Swift would be that aggressive against another contestant. In her head, she screamed for joy that someone made this madman stop his antics.

Solo crouched to the floor. She removed the mask and took in several deep breaths.

“I know who I want to eliminate.” Taren stood from her chair. If she had the strength, she would have picked it up and cracked it over Fear’s head. “I don’t need time.” She stormed over to Fear, who sat on his butt on the floor, holding his jaw. “I want you gone. Your type of play does not fit what I want.”

“Unfortunately, Taren, you can’t eliminate him.” Macabre voice matched her name. She stood from her chair and strolled to the group. “The contract for the show states that if a contestant puts his or her hands on another contestant in an aggressive manner, meaning a physical altercation, that person is automatically eliminated.”

Taren turned to Sire Swift and Sandy. “No.” She liked them both.

Swift came across as a stand-up kind of guy, one who would give his shirt off his back to anyone who needed it. Sandy shared some of the same feelings as Taren. They both believed in the idea of love within this crazy world. She liked her, and wanted her to stay around more.

“I’m so sorry, Sire Swift.” Taren shook her head. She ran over to Sandy. “I’m sorry you have to go.”

Sandy hugged Taren. When she pulled back, she said, “I’m not.”

Taren blinked. “What?”

Sire Swift went over to Sandy and put his arm around her waist. “Coming to this contest was the best thing that ever happened to me because I met the woman of my dreams.” He kissed her temple. “The feeling was immediate. I can’t explain it.”

Sandy smiled and looked over at Taren. “If we didn’t leave the contest soon, we would have broken the intimacy rule.”

Taren glanced at Jace, then quickly brought her attention back to Swift and Sandy.

“I wouldn’t have been a good Dom for you.” Sire Swift stared at the woman next to him. “My mind would have been on her the entire time.”

“I’m sorry, Sire Swift and Slave Sandy. You’ll have to be eliminated from the show.” Macabre shook Swift’s hand and bowed her head to Sandy.

“No worries. I’m still going home with a prize.” Swift removed his mask.

Taren saw his face. Swift carried a compassionate look in his eyes. A few lines darted from the corners and spread as soon as he smiled. He and Sandy looked good together.

“Should I pack your belongings for you, Sire Swift?” Sandy asked.

He shook his head. “No. And when we’re not playing, call me by my real name. George.”

“Bye, George. Loser.” Fear stood.

Sire Swift turned back to go for round two when Sandy put her hands to his chest.

“Please, sir. Let’s go. Don’t give him the satisfaction.” Sandy framed his face and tried to look into his eyes.

Swift glared at Fear for a moment before he took Sandy’s hand and walked her out of the room.

“So much drama.” Macabre shook her head. “Now that your elimination has been done for you again, you can at least pick your winner. Who’s it going to be?”

Taren looked over the remaining five contestants. She thought about each of them and how they attempted to gain trust with their slaves. Then she figured out her strategy.

“Mistress Night is the winner. I liked that she used something so simple to not only gain Beauty’s trust, but also give her pleasure.” Taren looked at Bruiser. “Sorry. Knives scare me.”

“That’s the whole idea.” He raised his eyebrows.

“Congratulations, Mistress Night. You two will go on a field trip to Club 4400. They have a wing dedicated to creating toys. You two can get a toy each of your choosing.” Macabre leaned down. “If I were you, I’d go for the engraved paddles.”

“And cut!” Kitty darted into the room. “Fantastic take.”

“I didn’t think so.” Taren shook her head. “A really good contestant and slave got sent home because of an irresponsible idiot. I don’t want him here.”

Kitty moved in closer to Taren. “I understand. But I’m telling you, he’s going to be ratings gold. Viewers love an obvious villain. If you can keep him for a couple more episodes, that would be cool.”

Taren didn’t see that as cool. She wouldn’t buckle under the pressure to keep someone if she didn’t feel a connection.

“I have to be true to myself. I don’t see myself with him.” She knew who made her body react. Taren ran from Kitty to get to Jace. She stood in front of him to get him to stop walking. “Master.” She put her hand to her waist. “I’m ready to have this removed now.” She lowered her voice. “And we need to talk.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jace wanted to be alone with Taren when she asked him to remove her chastity belt. Too bad the people behind the show had other ideas. He climbed the stairs up to the main bedroom with Soneni in tow. The petite woman kept right on his heels as he headed to Taren’s room.

With the extra guest, he couldn’t be as open with Taren like he wanted. As he walked behind her, he stared at her ass swaying back and forth. Damn. Perfection.

Taren stopped in the middle of the bedroom and faced Jace and the extra guest. “Maybe we should do this in the bathroom.” She pointed to the door behind her.

“Sure. If that’s what makes you feel comfortable.” He followed her into the expansive room.

“I don’t think you care about anyone’s comfort.” Taren snickered. “I think you like keeping people on the edge.”

Jace sat on the short wall that surrounded the Jacuzzi tub. “You like being on the edge. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.” He adjusted his hood. “Take off your outfit.”

Taren looked over her shoulder at the assistant before she kicked off her shoes and slipped out of her jumpsuit.

Jace marveled at her sheer bra that showed off her dark areolas and the belt he’d put on her. “I can’t believe you left this on. Why didn’t you take them up on their offer to get this off you?”

She rubbed her hand across the top. “I liked it.”

He pulled out a set of small keys and started working on the top lock first. “Why?”

Taren cleared her throat. In a lowered tone, she said, “It felt like you were saving me.”

Jace held the lock as he regarded her. His body tingled in anticipation. “Do you mean saving you from the other contestants or…” He trailed off, not wanting to alert or alarm Soneni, who split her energy between watching them, reviewing items on her tablet, and twirling her hair around her finger. She pushed her glasses up her button nose without letting go of her hair.