Slave To Love (25 page)

In her short-sleeved dress, Taren noticed her large flower tattoo on her left shoulder. When she turned to Taren, Taren noticed a small mole under her bottom lip.

“Very nice scene name. Who wouldn’t want to be called Beauty?” Taren sipped her ice water. “What’s your real name?”

“Actually it’s Beverly, but when I first got into the lifestyle I was called Belle, which I liked. In French, Belle means beauty. One Dom who played with me called me Beauty instead of Belle, and Beauty stuck. But I miss being called Belle sometimes.” She shrugged.

“So other people pick your scene names?” Taren wanted to be clear on the rules of this new life.

“Not all the time.” A woman with the side of her head shaved spoke up from the end of the table. “My scene name is Bambi. My real name is Isadora. No one in the lifestyle knew that. I introduced myself as Bambi and it stayed.” The remaining shoulder-length hair on her head had been bleached platinum blonde with multicolor streaks throughout it.

“Nice to meet you, Bambi.” Taren looked at the other side of the table for the remaining four contestants. “What’s your name?”

The woman at the end with a light tan complexion and long curly brown hair wiped her mouth demurely before speaking. She seemed like a true Southern belle through and through. “I’m probably the misfit here at the table. My name is Sandy. I go by Sandy during play.”

“Not so unusual. I introduced myself as Taren. So far, I have no plans to change that.” She didn’t want to hide behind a persona, not that she judged these women for doing that. “What about you? You go by your real name or a scene name?”

The woman next to Sandy had a brighter smile than Bubbles with a gap between her two front teeth. Her chestnut complexion complemented her bright eyes and her magnetic smile. Taren would have killed to have a tenth of her beautiful breasts.

“I go by Sweetheart. And yes, someone gave me that name. My real name is Nikki. I had gone online to a BDSM matchmaking service.”

Taren laughed. Sweetheart didn’t.

“Something funny?” Sweetheart asked.

“Were you serious about there being a BDSM matchmaking site?” Taren felt so out of the loop.

“Of course. With Grindr and Tinder, wouldn’t you think there would be something for BDSM folks?” Sweetheart cocked her head.

“That is true. Tell me how you got your scene name.” Taren finished off her salad as she listened to the story.

“I met a guy on this site. He liked my smile, or so he said.” She carried a wistful look before she let out a long, low whistle. “He truly rocked my world. After our first play session, he started calling me Sweetheart. It stayed with me. Too bad he didn’t.”

Taren caught her disappointed tone. Before she could inquire any further, she wanted to meet the last two women.

“What’s your name?”

The toffee-toned woman with micro-braids and full lips smiled at Taren. “I’m called Slinky. My real name is Laurie. I like Slinky better.”

“Why is that?” Taren picked up a platter full of grilled steaks and chicken, and chose a grilled breast piece before getting grilled corn on the cob.

“I chose that scene name. I kind of like getting oiled up before play.” She wiggled her body around. “Call me crazy, but it feels so good to have hands all over my body. Then a Dominant can do whatever he wants to me.”

Before Taren could ask, the last woman spoke up. “My name is Solo, but my real name is Kandi.”

“Kandi actually sounds like a better scene name.” Taren cut into her chicken.

Solo grimaced and shook her head. “Nope. Solo fits my personality. I like being a play bottom and not being tied down to one Dom or Domme.” She had a small Afro on top of her head and the sides of her head tapered. Like most of the women there, her bright smile drew Taren.

Solo sounded like a female version of Jace. A lone wolf in a room full of comrades.

“Good to meet you, Solo.” Taren scanned the table. “Nice to meet all of you ladies.” She thought about their names and where they sat. “So let me get this straight. You all have B names and you all are S’s? B.S.?”

“Strange, I know.” Sweetheart shrugged. “They even assigned our rooms that way, too.”

Taren laughed. “Guess it makes it easy on them. So why did you all get into BDSM?”

“I can’t talk for anyone else, but for me, it’s about giving up control, which I never thought I would want.” Bubbles shook her head. “My mama raised me to be independent. This lifestyle doesn’t take away my freedom.”

Taren dropped her fork. “It doesn’t?”

“No,” they all said at once.

“You have to be sure this is the life you want when you get into it.” Sandy’s soft voice lulled Taren into believing every word. “It takes someone who is so self-aware to know who they are and what they want. I absolutely hate books and movies that portray submissives and slaves as shrinking violets.”

Each woman shook her head and sucked air between her teeth.

“Seeing a man’s dick is not shocking to me, and I can say dick, cock, and anything else and not blush.” Bambi slammed her napkin down. “And not a lot of play freaks me out.”

“Maybe anal.” Beauty shivered.

“You don’t like that?” Sweetheart smiled. “I don’t mind it.”

“With the right person,” Breeze added.

“Why did you all decide to do the show?” Taren no longer had an appetite for food. She wanted to know more about these women and their choices.

Slinky furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

“The money. That’s why.” Solo picked up her glass filled with tea and toasted Taren.

“Not all of us are here for the dough.” Sandy shook her head.

“Money?” Would the Dominants have to split their winnings with the slaves?

Macabre cleared her throat before she spoke. “When you eliminate a Dom or Domme, you also eliminate the house slave. The longer the slave stays in the competition, the more money she gets. I believe the first slave eliminated gets five thousand dollars. The second one gets ten thousand. The third one gets twenty-five thousand. The fourth one gets fifty thousand. With four slaves left, you can have them serve the household although you’ll be the one taking the punishment. So it won’t be based on the Dom or Domme eliminated. You’ll eliminate someone based on her performance. So the fifth one eliminated will get a hundred thousand. The sixth one will get a hundred and seventy-five thousand. The seventh one cut will get a quarter of a million. And the last slave will walk away with half a million.”

“Not bad for doing what we love anyway,” Breeze said.

“I’d give all that up if I came across the right Dom.” Sandy smiled to herself as she pushed food around on her plate.

“Oh, no. Here she goes again.” Solo shook her head. “I keep telling you. Begonia got lucky with Master Eagan. Not every submissive or slave falls in love with their Master or Mistresses. You do it to serve. You do it as a release. Nothing more.”

“She’s right.” Bubbles shrugged. “If you go in thinking you can get more than that, you’re going to walk away from the experience disappointed.” She stared at Taren. “I hope you know that. You’re here to find your Dominant, right? Nothing more.”

Taren hesitated. The words got caught in her throat. She never expected to have eight people who all sounded like Dori tell her the same thing. Actually, not all eight. Sandy seemed hopeful that love could happen.

“That’s right. Here to find my perfect Dom.” Taren picked up her fork, but had lost her appetite.

“Or Domme.” Beauty smiled.

“So none of you have ever had feelings for someone who played with you?” Taren picked up a piece of chicken, but couldn’t eat it right now.

“I’ve had feelings for a Dom. Several Doms actually.” Sweetheart held up her hand and started ticking off instances on her fingers. “Pain, more pain, and in between the ouches came the ohhs. I’ve had some really good orgasms from it.” She laughed, and that sound became infectious to Taren.

How could anyone leave someone as magnetic as Sweetheart?

“Was this the same Dom you talked about earlier?” Taren asked. She gave up the pretense that she wanted to continue eating and paid attention to everything they said.

Sweetheart nodded. “Great Dom. Too good, actually. He could separate himself from the play. I internalized all of it. Sometimes for me, it’s hard to disassociate the fantasy and play from real life, especially when the sensations are so extreme.” She moved her chair back to be more animated. “Here you have a guy who’s spanking you or caning you or doing an intense breast play session. The whole time, he’s looking me right in my eyes. Staring at me, like he’s daring me to blink. I swear. I couldn’t breathe. I was so wrapped up in everything. Then afterward, he did this amazing aftercare where he wrapped me up in fur. Wasn’t fake either. It was so soft. Every time I fell asleep right in his arms.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “I never felt so safe and secure in my entire life.”

The table became silent. Taren stared at the woman who had described her perfect play session. She felt a nudge against her leg. Macabre nodded toward Taren to prompt her to keep talking. Taren had forgotten that cameras rolled.

“Sounds nice. What happened to him?” Taren wrapped her hands around her frosty glass.

“He had to leave the area for work. He asked if I wanted to move closer to him.” Sweetheart shook her head.

“Why? You had your opportunity to be with him.” Sandy’s mouth hung open as she stared at Sweetheart.

“What? Am I supposed to pick up and move around with him without a promise of love or being taken care of?” She made a disapproving sound through her nose and moved in closer to the table. “It was play for him. I knew that. I understood. I can’t build my life around a whim. Like the Dixie Chicks said, I had to let him fly.”

Taren had to turn around this dour mood. “Sounds like you’re in the right place now.” She lifted her glass. “To new beginnings.”

The other ladies picked their glasses up and toasted along with her. “To new beginnings.”

Taren brought her glass down and took a drink. The ladies had given her a lot to think about during dinner. Had she gone into this venture with the right mindset. Beyond that, she also had to make sure to pick the right house slave to win the prize. Right now, she liked all of them.

Yeah, no pressure.

Chapter Seventeen

Jace needed a lot of things. He needed to get to a phone first. He had business to take care of and couldn’t do that as someone on a reality TV show. He couldn’t trust Aaron to take care of business for him.

After a restless night where Taren consumed his thoughts and dreams, he decided to put his energy back into his livelihood. Early in the morning, Jace got out of bed. He scanned the darkened room and shook his head when he saw three other beds in the room. He felt like he had opened his home up to wayward boys.

While still in his pajamas pants, he opened the door to the room. He sighed, thankful the production team hadn’t gotten there yet. He made his way to the back door. As soon as Jace hit the outside, he felt light and lifted. All of his cares and worries erased when he viewed his pool and the morning sun bathed his skin. If he wanted to keep enjoying his life, he would need to make sure to keep everything going.

Jace made it into the guesthouse. He pulled out his cell phone that he had hidden in a closet. One of the many rules of the show asked all contestants to give up their cell phones, laptops, and tablets. He had to keep those items hidden from the crew. The other seven men may not think about their work. Jace did.

He sat on the bed as he punched in the speed dial to get Aaron.

“Yo, man. Calling early, aren’t you?” Aaron didn’t sound tired, but frustration filled his voice. “Enjoying your time off?”

“Not really.” Jace balled his toes into the carpet. “How’s the subdivision going?”

“Good.”

Jace nodded.

“If guys would show up for work.”

“Damn it.” Jace knew he should have been there. “Whoever isn’t there, get rid of their asses and replace them.”

“Come on, man. Hill’s wife went into labor and Kevin has some things going on at home. Not good. Don’t worry about anything. I got this.” Aaron’s voice started to sound stronger the longer he talked. “I contacted a temp agency and got additional help. And I can still swing a hammer if I need to. Nothing is falling apart.”

Jace heard a crash through the phone, then Aaron cursed. “What the hell was that?”

“Nothing.” It sounded like Aaron pressed the phone to his chest as he yelled at someone. “Everything is cool. You take time for yourself. If you call me again, I’ll be forced to tell Cherryce that you’re home and will come over for dinner. Got it?”

“You won’t be able to put food on the table if these homes don’t get built on time and under budget.” Jace stood and started pacing. “These homes need to start moving. I’ll call the Realtor again to—”

“Whoa, Jace. I’ll take care of that. Don’t worry.”

“I always worry. That’s my job.” Jace disconnected the call.

Before he could call the real estate agent about getting more buyers into the area, he heard a sound outside. Jace put the phone back into the closet and peered out the window. He didn’t see anyone around the guesthouse.

With the coast clear, he opened the door. As he padded across the lawn, he glanced up and caught Taren at the bathroom window. She had on a white slip as pajamas, and she gazed up into the sky.

Before Jace could get her attention, he turned to see what had caught her attention. The sun rose in the distance. When it broke the sky, it illuminated the area in a warm glow. He loved the summer sun.

Jace turned back around to see if Taren still admired the sunrise. She had stopped staring at it, and now had her gaze cast down on him. He saw her gripping the window frame. He watched a strap falling from her shoulder.

Jace took a step toward the stairs that would take him to her. Show be damned. He wanted her.

Taren shook her head and backed from the window. He felt the impact of her retreat in his gut. It jerked in response.