There were murmurs, nods and smiles. Master Paul turned to Alexis, the piercing needle in his hand. “Slave Alexis,” he said in a loud voice, though his eyes were fixed solely on her face, “do you willingly accept this gift as further testament of our unbreakable bond as Master and slave?”
“Yes, Sir,” Alexis said, her face soft with love.
The room was utterly silent as, under Clarence’s watchful eye, Master Paul slipped the piercing needle through the delicate membrane. Other than a small, sudden gasp, Alexis remained still and quiet, though her hands had clenched into fists. Clarence handed Paul the ring, which he threaded quickly into place.
He stepped back, announcing, “It is done,” and again the room burst into applause. The two men released Alexis’ restraints and helped her to her feet. Hailey expected Master Paul to lead his girl to a sofa, or for them to leave the room to recover together in the privacy of their cottage.
Ronan shifted and Hailey glanced at him, surprised to see he was grinning like a cat that ate the canary, his gaze fixed expectantly on Master Paul. What was going on?
Hailey followed his gaze and was shocked to see Master Paul drop to one knee. Alexis seemed shocked as well, or at the very least completely surprised by his action. Master Paul held out his hand. Hailey could see the glitter of gold and diamond against his open palm. The room once again stilled to absolute silence. “This ring is for you as well,” he said, smiling up at her, “though this one won’t require another piercing.” In a louder voice, he continued, “Alexis, my slave girl, my darling, the light of my life. Will you accept this ring as a symbol of the never-ending circle of our love? Will you marry me?”
Alexis’ hands flew to her mouth, tears filling her pretty dark eyes. She dropped to her knees and reached for Paul, catching him in a tight embrace. “Yes!” she cried, and Hailey couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying, and decided she was doing both. “Yes, my Master, my love, I will marry you.”
Amidst the cheering and clapping, Hailey turned to Ronan. “You knew, didn’t you! That’s what all that was about before—you were in on this!”
“Guilty as charged,” Ronan admitted with a devilish grin. “What would you think about a double wedding here at The Compound? I’m thinking you’d look lovely in white lace and a few piercings of your own. Sound good?”
Hailey laughed, pulling Ronan’s head down for a kiss. “Yes,” she agreed. “Sounds perfect.”
Chapter 13
They’d been home a few days and were lingering over their second cups of coffee when Hailey said, “Excuse me, Sir, but may I speak?”
Since they’d become engaged, the “rules” as such, had changed, and Ronan no longer required his slave girl to ask permission to speak. However, she’d maintained the formality when she wished to ask something directly to do with BDSM, especially when it was something she was uncomfortable or shy about approaching. Ronan understood her need for the comfort of ritual in those instances, and so replied, “Yes, slave Hailey. What is it?”
“Well”—her cheeks turned a little pink and her hand moved to fondle her collar—“remember at the piercing ceremony, what you said about us—I mean about me? About piercings and lace?”
In the months they’d been together, Hailey had exhibited a love-hate relationship with the idea of piercing. She appreciated the symbolism and esthetic beauty of the jewelry, but remained frightened of needles. They had discussed her continued resistance as something they would work on overcoming together, but so far she hadn’t been ready, and it wasn’t something he would force on her—it had to be freely given or not at all.
“I remember,” he said, keeping his tone casual. “What about it?”
Her cheeks got even pinker, and Ronan resisted the urge to smile at her fluster. “I was thinking,” she began, “um…” He waited. She took a breath and then plunged forward, the words tumbling over one another. “I want it. I want my nipples pierced, Sir. I want it done before the wedding ceremony so they have time to heal. I want to wear your piercings, Sir, as symbols of your ownership over my body and heart.”
“I would like that very much,” Ronan replied gravely. “I’ve been waiting for this day, sweet slave. I just happen to have a piercing kit and some jewelry all picked out. I’ve been keeping it for when you were ready.”
Hailey’s eyes widened in surprise and pleasure. “Really?”
Ronan nodded, smiling. “Really and truly. I had several lessons with Clarence and I feel confident I can do this for you. Or, if you’d rather, we can go to The Compound and have it done there.”
Hailey jumped up from the table and threw her arms around Ronan’s neck. “You’re the best Master in the world!” she cried with uncharacteristic abandon. “Thank you, Sir. I promise to be brave and strong. Let’s do it today, okay? Let’s do it now!”
Ronan laughed and gently disengaged from Hailey’s enthusiastic embrace. “Don’t you have two classes to teach this morning? I’m not sure you’d want to go directly from a piercing to the yoga studio.”
“Oh, yeah. Damn,” Hailey muttered, furrowing her brows. Then she brightened. “I could cancel them, or reschedule. I could—”
“No.” Ronan shook his head. “You have responsibilities. You teach the classes, and I’ll prepare for the piercing. The yoga classes should help you center yourself in anticipation of the piercing. We’ll do it when you come home this afternoon.”
The agitation ebbed from Hailey’s countenance, serenity once again claiming her pretty face. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
~*~
Summer was ending, but the day was still warm enough to allow Hailey to lie naked on the quilt beside the creek, save for her slave collar, which she only removed to shower. Ronan was crouched beside her, assembling the piercing kit items on a tray. The rings he’d chosen were as beautiful as the engagement ring he’d placed on her finger. Made of white gold, the beads that held the jewelry in place were inlaid with tiny diamonds shaped into the petals of a flower. Rather than the large, sharp needles, gauze, gloves and clamps that also lay in waiting on the tray, Hailey chose to focus only on the delicate, exquisite jewelry.
Ever since Alexis’ piercing ceremony, Hailey had been more determined than ever to finally move past her fear of needles. In some ways she had been waiting and hoping Master Ronan would make the decision for her, and simply inform her that she would be pierced, but she understood enough now about the nature of their D/s bond to recognize he would never push something on her she wasn’t fully prepared to give.
Ronan gently cleaned her nipples with a sterile solution, which he also used on the clamps that would hold each nipple taut while he inserted the threading needle. Hailey closed her eyes at this point, keeping the image of the sparkling jewelry in her mind’s eye as she silently chanted her serenity mantra.
“We’ll do the right nipple first,” Master Ronan said. She felt the tug of the surgical clamps closing on her nipple. She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, letting the lulling sound of the creek water rushing over stones calm her. “You will feel a burning, pinching sensation. Hold very still, and it will be over quickly.”
“Yes, Sir,” she breathed, pleased her voice came out calmer than she felt. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she drew in another cleansing breath.
“At the count of three, I’ll thread the needle through and then the jewelry.” Hailey nodded, though she kept her eyes closed. “One…two…three.”
The pain was sudden and sharp, like a hot poker shoving its way through her flesh. In spite of her promise to herself to remain quiet, Hailey yelped.
“Done!” Ronan said triumphantly.
Hailey felt woozy and knew if she hadn’t been lying down, she would have probably passed out. As it was, she just lay there, inert, eyes closed. A strange sense of elation was swirling through her, displacing the fear and the lingering throb of pain at the piercing site.
“Second one will be even easier,” Ronan said soothingly. �
��Just hold still a moment longer. You’re doing great.” She felt the tug of the clamps at her left nipple and then the cold prick of the needle, which morphed into a sudden, pinching fire.
And then it was done.
She opened her eyes. Ronan was grinning down at her. “You did it! You were perfect. I’m so proud of you. Want to see?”
Hailey started to lift herself and Ronan reached quickly behind her, helping her to a sitting position. He picked up the hand mirror from the tray and held it so she could see. Hailey stared down at the image in awe. Her nipples were engorged and dark red, and she knew they would be tender for a few days, but the jewelry was beautiful, the diamond flowers winking in the sunlight that dappled through the maples overhead.
Joy and pride bubbled up through her, erupting into a startled laugh. “I did it! I mean, you did it.”
“We did it,” Ronan agreed with a laugh.
~*~
It was as if the leaves on the trees had been advised of the upcoming ceremony. Almost overnight they had changed into their fall finery, brilliant yellows, reds and oranges festooning the branches and falling in soft, sudden showers to the ground. While there was a slight chill in the air, all agreed the double wedding ceremony would still take place outside as planned.
Hailey and Ronan had decided to have a simple ceremony later in the month for their vanilla relations, and just leave out the little detail that they would already be married. Alexis and Paul, too, had made alternate arrangements for their non-BDSM counterparts.
The four of them lolled on a blanket by the old barn near Alexis and Paul’s cottage after lunch. Alexis was snuggled beside Paul. Ronan rested against the trunk of a shade tree, Hailey leaning back against his chest. As he looked over at his new friends, Ronan understood on a gut level that The Compound was more than just a highly specialized slave training facility, and even more than a close-knit BDSM community. It was a safe and soul-nurturing place that provided the kindred connection that truly defined family.
Later that afternoon, when the girls were off together trying on their wedding outfits and doing whatever girls did to get ready for such events, Ronan, Paul and George sat out by the pool behind the main house.
“So, it’s official, huh? That’s great!” Ronan said.
“Yep.” George grinned happily. “I signed the papers with Miriam this morning. I’m going to be a full-time trainer.” He shook his head, a look of wonder moving over his craggy face. “You know, when I was here last year scoping out the place for you, I remember thinking how fantastic it would be to live here, but it never occurred to me it might actually happen someday. I’m no spring chicken, you know. I just turned sixty-three, for god’s sake. I’ve been a widower for seven years. I’ve been retired for three. Who ever thought I’d be starting a whole new career at this point in my life?”
Paul laughed. “Are you kidding? Sixty is the new forty, haven’t you heard?”
“Hell,” Ronan interjected. “In LA it’s the new twenty-five, with the right plastic surgeon.” They all laughed.
“But you left something out in that little summation of your new life, didn’t you, George?” Paul added, his eyes twinkling. “Or rather, someone?”
George did something Ronan had never seen before. He blushed.
“What?” Ronan demanded, and then he knew. “Sophia! Isn’t she about done with her training at this point?”
George nodded. “She was working with Master John when I first started observing and working with him. We really hit it off, and she’s going to stay on at The Compound as a kitchen staff slave. She’s a terrific dessert chef, so we’re all going to get fat!” He laughed, patting his stomach, which was still flat and firm, despite his age.
“Okay, he’s not going to come out and say it, so I will,” Paul said, turning to Ronan. “The two of them are as head over heels in love as teenagers. George didn’t want to upstage our double wedding, so they’re waiting until next month to have their own claiming ceremony. George is going to take Sophia as his slave, and they’ll move out to one of the cottages.”
Ronan stood to embrace his old friend. “I’m so happy for you, George. Maybe we should do a triple wedding—why not?”
George chuckled. “Nah. Soph and I don’t go in for that establishment bullshit. We’re children of the sixties, don’t forget. We’d way rather live in sin.”
~*~
They stood beneath a large wedding canopy, which from a distance looked like any other, festooned with flowers and vines. But on closer inspection, the dangling chains, rope and leather wound among the foliage added a festive BDSM touch. Hailey and Alexis were both dressed in sheer lace dresses that had been specially tailored for them by a BDSM wedding designer friend of Alexis’ from New York City. They were both naked beneath the gowns, save for their respective piercings. Ronan and Paul looked dashing in black leather pants and white silk shirts.
Mistress Miriam presided over the ceremony, which was brief but very romantic. The couples had written out their vows beforehand, and the four of them took turns reading them to their respective partners. It was a good thing she had her index card with the vows neatly typed out, because Hailey was in such a daze of nerves and excitement that she barely remembered her own name, much less the pretty words they’d spent the past month composing for this special day.
They moved inside after the ceremony. The drawing room had been rearranged to make space for dancing. Everyone had been invited to the party, and the room was filled with staff and trainees, the subs in the group easily identifiable by their lack of clothing, which lent a sensual, erotic air to the festivities.
The cake, a seven-tiered masterpiece of coconut and buttercream prepared by Sophia, was cut and served, and champagne corks popped all around the room. The music piped through the sound system was smoky jazz, perfect for slow dancing, and it wasn’t long before the dance floor was filled with swaying couples. The usually stern Master John was looking down at his slave girl, Wendy, with such tenderness it made Hailey’s heart catch in her throat. George held Sophia in his arms, and they had eyes only for each other. Mistress Miriam and Marta were quite accomplished dancers, doing some kind of complicated moves that reminded Hailey of the old Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies, a small, appreciative crowd gathering around them in admiration.
Sam, Hailey noticed between dance numbers, when Ronan had left her a moment to get them each a piece of cake, was sitting alone near the fireplace, his expression contemplative, even sad. Hailey moved toward him, and he looked up with a quick smile. “Hey there, Mrs. Wolfe,” he said. “The ceremony was beautiful.”
Hailey smiled back. “It was, wasn’t it?” She sat beside him, her smile falling away. Sam, dear Sam, steadfast and kind, never judgmental even in the face of the trainees’ worst disgraces, had always seemed to Hailey a haven of calm acceptance—the very essence of a serene service slave. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her he might have troubles of his own.
“Excuse me if I’m intruding,” she ventured, “but you looked so sad just now, Sam. Is everything okay?”
Sam shrugged. “Sure, everything’s fine. It’s just…” He paused, the sad, faraway look again coming into his eyes. “I miss him sometimes.”
“Who?”
“Jamie. My partner. We were together a long time. He passed away—gosh, it’s been five years now. He had cancer. It was a blessing in the end, really.” He flashed another smile, though there were tears in his eyes. Hailey put her hand over his, her heart aching for her friend. “I’m fine, really,” he asserted. “I made my peace with it a long time ago. It’s just at times like this…”
“I understand. I do,” Hailey said. “I’m glad you have this wonderful community. But I know it can be lonely. Before I met Master Ronan, I honestly didn’t know if I would ever find a man I could connect with on every level.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re still young. You never know who’s going to come into your life, Sam.”
Sam shook his head.
“Nah. I’m done with that. I had my true love.” He smiled again, this time with conviction. “I have a fantastic life here at The Compound. I have friends and community, and work that fulfills me. I love being a service slave.”
Hailey nodded. “That’s wonderful, Sam. All I would say is, remain open. Don’t shut yourself down to the possibility of something new.”
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt. We haven’t met yet, but I wanted to congratulate you, Hailey. The ceremony was beautiful.”
Hailey looked up to see a tall man with dark hair and a large, hawkish nose in a long, narrow face. He was handsome in a craggy cowboy kind of way. He wore dark jeans and a black leather vest over a lean but muscular frame.
Sam jumped to his feet, looking suddenly flustered. “Master Andrew. Allow me to present slave Hailey. She trained here at The Compound.” He turned to Hailey, spots of color on his cheeks. He was acting, Hailey suddenly thought, like a teenager with a crush. “Hailey, Master Andrew just signed up last week. He’s an expert in whip handling and fire play. We’re really lucky to get him.”
Master Andrew held out his hand, and Hailey shook it. “A pleasure to meet you. I look forward to knowing you and Master Ronan better.” He dropped her hand and stepped back. “The music is perfect for dancing,” he began, and Hailey, whose feet were aching in the unaccustomed heels she was wearing, wondered if she could gracefully decline.
But Master Andrew had turned to Sam. “Slave Sam, would you like to dance?”
“I-I would be honored, Sir,” Sam stammered sweetly, taking the man’s proffered hand. As he followed Master Andrew to the dance floor, he turned back to Hailey with a broad grin and a shrug.
Ronan appeared at Hailey’s side, balancing two glasses of champagne and two plates of cake in his hands. “Are you happy, sweetheart?” he said, as he handed her a plate and glass.
Beyond the Compound: The Compound Trilogy - Book 2 Page 17