Behind Jaxon, a black curtain parted to reveal a large rectangular acrylic platform with two steps leading up to it. There were other round see-through pedestals fanned out in a semicircle.
Jax moved to one side, and Tore strode onto the stage. As usual, he wore a vest. Tonight, however, instead of the customary one with fleur-de-lis, this was crafted from the same brown leather as Mistress Aviana’s, and it hung open to show off his honed abs.
Over his shoulder was a long, thick chain, with the first five volunteer slaves attached to it. The group was eclectic. Tall and short. Male and female. Of various ages and ethnicities. Men wore only a scrap of stark-white material, not much more than a pouch that left little to the imagination. The women were dressed in string bikinis beneath sheer sarongs.
The twins floated onto the stage. Together, they unclipped the first slave from the chain and assisted her onto one of the platforms. The camera followed each of her flawless moves.
They repeated the process for each participant. When they were finished, they stepped aside while the camera panned the semicircle. Most of the slaves were relaxed, and one of the men was flexing his biceps, trying to draw attention.
“There you are!” Jaxon called. “It’s going to be an extraordinary night!”
Adrenaline fired through the room in the form of claps and appreciative whistles. As much as Mason wanted to be immune, he wasn’t. It was a hell of a spectacle.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present slave number one,” Jaxon said when the audience settled down.
The twins helped the first sub from her platform and escorted her to the front of the stage where she stood in the spotlight.
She lowered her gaze, then gave a quick peep through her lashes. It was seductive. Judging by the way one member of the audience sucked in a sharp breath, it was also effective.
“Fiona is looking for a top who is firm but fair. And fortunately for you, she’s happy to be won by either a man or a woman.” He went on to list her limits and then asked her to turn around so the bidders could study her from every angle. “The minimum bid will be five thousand dollars.”
Several people used lights from their cell phones to scribble notes into the margins of their programs. The woman, as beautiful and obviously well trained as she was, didn’t stir Mason.
After she’d turned around and presented herself in a variety of poses, the twins returned her to Tore, then escorted the second slave, a man, to the spotlight.
The process was repeated until all the slaves had been introduced. Once they were led away, the next set was brought on. Mason checked his watch. As he’d tried to tell Aviana, this wasn’t his kind of event. He either came to scene or he stayed away.
After an interminable amount of time, Tore led the final group in for viewing.
And the woman who was second in line snared his interest.
She was at least half a foot shorter than he was, with impossibly large, wide-open eyes, and brunette hair that tumbled over her shoulders. The gauzy film that covered her couldn’t disguise her small beautiful figure. The building’s air-conditioning hardened her nipples. To him, she was a tiny wisp of feminine perfection.
Repeating the same process as with the other participants, the twins unclipped her from Tore’s chain. As she walked toward her acrylic platform, she missed a step and stumbled slightly. The twins reached for her upper arms to steady her. All the other slaves had appeared to be veterans and enjoying themselves, but her actions betrayed her as a novice.
Mason was torn, his dominant urges stirred. Part of him wanted to protect her. The other, more primal part of his nature urged him to make her his.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
He wasn’t given to wild fantasies. Or, maybe he had been, once upon a time. But that had been before Deborah.
The slave gave a quick smile of gratitude before stepping up onto her display platform.
The twins moved aside, and the spotlight moved on to the next contestant. But he looked toward the shadowed part of the stage to watch number twelve. Her shoulders shook, and she curled one hand around the small collar she wore.
He was consumed with a need to know more about her. Why the hell hadn’t he accepted one of the programs?
Mason checked his watch again, but for a different reason this time. He was anxious for the pomp and circumstance to be over with so he could have a better look at her.
After the other subs were in place, the first sub was brought forward. His impatience soared. He was interested in only one woman.
Finally, the twins led her to the front of the stage where she stood next to Jax. Her image was projected onto the big screens, making her larger than life. Confounding him, she kept her head lowered, shading her expression.
“Hannah joins us this weekend from Austin, Texas.”
When she wobbled a little, Jaxon steadied her, and she grabbed on to him.
Even though he covered his mic to ask if she was all right, the words whispered through the dungeon. “Bend your knees a little. It will help.”
She nodded and did what he said.
“Do you want to continue?”
She dropped her hand to her side and nodded several times. “Just nerves.”
After Jax studied her for a few seconds, he continued. “Hannah prefers a male Dom who is patient but unyielding. Her limits list includes canes, humiliation, isolation, being shared.”
Suited Mason fine. He didn’t like to share.
“Let’s see your face,” Jax encouraged softly, but firmly, part host, part reassuring Dominant.
In the glare of the spotlight, she turned to him, but he nodded toward the audience.
Hannah drew a deep breath before tipping back her chin. Her eyes were unblinking, and a bit wild. They were a rich shade of amber, ringed with a bright gold, speaking of riches. He shook his head. That was a trick of the light and his overtired imagination.
“Turn around so your potential Doms can inspect you better.”
The slave obeyed, and when she faced the front again, she seemed to seek Mason out. That wasn’t possible. The lights would prevent her from seeing the back of the room, and the idea of her picking him out from the crowd was ludicrous.
“After the intermission, you’ll have the chance to bid on our lovely Hannah. If you’re making notes, she’s number twelve in your program.”
The twins collected her.
Several men grabbed pens. A couple more typed notes into their cell phones, pissing Mason off. The fuck? It might be irrational, but Mason decided no Dom but him was spending the weekend with her.
She was his. And within the hour, he intended to claim her.
As if she knew that, she once again glanced in his direction.
The auction continued, but Mason refused to take his gaze or his fantasies from the brunette who’d awakened something inside him that he’d been sure was dead.
Chapter 2
When she was unclipped backstage, Hannah propped her shoulders against a brick wall. Now that it was intermission, the entire club buzzed with noise. The music had been turned up again, and the excited slaves were talking to each other—or rather, shouting at each other—to be heard.
But she was drained, as if she’d survived an ordeal.
She’d known she might be nervous, but nothing prepared her for the near paralysis she experienced when the spotlight hit her.
The entire experience was surreal. Because of the glare, the audience was cast in darkness, but the moment she lifted her gaze, a jolt of awareness shot through her. Her intuition shouted that Master Mason Sullivan was out there, looking at her in a contemplative, considering way.
Hannah shook her head to banish the outrageous notion. With his ridiculously handsome looks, broad shoulders, honed biceps, six-pack abs, and haunted soul, he could have his pick of any sub at any time. Behind his back, he was called the One Night Dom. He was known as a considerate top, but he never played with the same submissive more than once. Acc
ording to her friend, Fiona, a woman had left him so shattered that he offered no commitments and refused to form emotional connections.
Which made him perfect for Hannah since she wanted the escape she only found when scening.
Fiona rushed over, wearing a huge grin. “This is exciting, right?”
Hannah exhaled. How should she respond? In addition to being her best friend, Fiona was the reason Hannah had agreed to participate in the auction.
A couple of weeks ago, Fiona had insisted that Hannah had closed herself off for long enough. The event was for a good cause, and it was really a no-risk situation. Mistress Aviana vetted all members. Hannah would get what she wanted while being safe. As an added precaution, the sub could refuse to go home with the highest bidder—no excuse needed.
“Wait.” With a frown, Fiona took Hannah’s hands. “Are you okay?
A thrill seeker who enjoyed not knowing what a weekend might hold, Fiona offered herself up every time the club had an auction. “My nerves are shredded,” Hannah confessed.
“That can be good. Right? Like exhilarating?”
Maybe, beneath the fear. “It’s been a long time.”
“I know.” Fiona offered a reassuring squeeze.
Ever since the horrible, horrible night with Liam, she hadn’t attended a munch or her favorite clubs in Austin. The risk of running into him was too great, and she refused to take the chance.
“If it’s too difficult, you don’t have to go through with it.”
“Slaves!” Tore’s commanding voice cut through the chatter.
Obediently, everyone backstage fell silent. Fiona released Hannah, and the two of them joined the other participants who gathered around Mistress Aviana’s most trusted dungeon monitor.
“The intermission will last another twenty minutes. Then I’ll lead the first group out. Like before, you’ll be unclipped and escorted to a platform. One by one, you’ll be called to the front, and you’ll be bid on. Then you’ll be returned backstage. After the winner has completed the financial requirements, Trinity will come and get you. Any questions?”
“This is the time to drop out if you’re going to,” Fiona whispered.
As much as Hannah was tempted, a small part of her was curious. And damn, she’d missed her connection with the kink world. There was nothing like it. Despite the risk, she wanted to be here. “I want to go through with it.” She just wished adrenaline wasn’t making her jittery.
“We recommend you spend some time in the club before leaving for the night. Your contract with the winner ends at midnight on Sunday night.”
“Will I turn into a pumpkin?” a male sub asked with a giggle.
“Daveed, honey, you’re already a pumpkin!” someone called back. “You better hope someone turns you into a princess so someone will buy you!”
“Enough sass.” Tore folded his massive arms across his equally impressive chest.
In spite of his gruff demeanor, Hannah would have sworn he cracked a smile. His thick beard made it difficult to be certain.
Tore moved off, and conversation resumed.
“Promise you’re not going to pass out on me?” Fiona asked.
A few subs took hold of the massive curtain and drew it back to peek at the audience.
“Oh Lord!” a sub called. “Mistress Mandy is out there! I’d die to have the opportunity to lick her boots.”
Noise grew from the makeshift auditorium, turning the energy frenetic and making Hannah’s heart race.
“And Master Balderdash!”
A chorus of twitters rippled through the slaves.
“Master Balderdash?” she asked Fiona.
“A good guy, but talks too much, and some of what he says is a little…far-fetched.” Fiona shrugged. “Well, complete bullshit, really.”
With her luck, Hannah suspected she’d end up with him.
A female submissive dropped the curtain and twirled around. “Fuck! Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck!”
“What?” Fiona demanded.
“Master Mason is out there. I thought I saw him. And he was looking at me.”
Hannah’s stomach plunged into a freefall.
Another sub laughed. “Don’t get your hopes up. The One Night Dom can have anyone he wants without paying for the privilege.”
Fiona shrugged. “I’d let him put his boots under my bed.”
I prefer to be tied to it. Shocked by her thoughts, Hannah again fingered the hated collar.
“Group one, line up,” Trinity, the club receptionist, called.
Fiona’s eyes brightened. “I’m so excited!”
Fiona hurried over to where Tore stood, holding the long chain. As the twins secured her in place, Fiona rocked back and forth, bouncing a little. So different from Hannah’s experience.
The house lights flashed in a subtle signal to let patrons know they needed to return to their seats.
Then Jaxon Mills’s seductive voice boomed across the atmosphere. “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve been waiting for!”
Ever since Fiona had told her about the megastar, Hannah listened to his audios every day at the gym. He was motivation and inspiration in one kick-ass package. In person, he was even more spectacular. He’d dealt with her nerves in a gentle way that was at odds with his public image.
With a clatter of metal, Tore led the slaves onto the stage.
With her thumb up, Fiona glanced in Hannah’s direction. Even with her inner turmoil, Hannah couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s glee.
Along with a few other participants, Hannah went to peek at the proceedings. Fiona was number one, and Jax called her forward.
Her friend was escorted to the front of the stage. She twirled around like they all had earlier, but this time, Jaxon asked her to strike several different poses, including bending over to ensure she captured the audience’s attention.
When he had stretched the anticipation so far that the whoops and hollers bounced from the rafters, Jaxon opened the bidding.
Through it all, he drove up the price, utilizing his customary combination of encouragement and berating. He reminded people of the good their contribution could do in the world, and he challenged them not to be miserly bastards and do something worthwhile.
“Ten thousand dollars,” a voice called out, calm and sure.
“Thank you, sir.” Jaxon pointed to acknowledge the Dom’s bid. “Hit him with the spotlight and show everyone else how it’s done!”
The Dom inclined his head when his picture appeared on the big screen.
Hannah didn’t recognize the man.
“Master Andrew,” one of the slaves standing near her whispered. “He’s hot. And unfortunately for me, heterosexual.”
She grinned.
“Surely there’s someone with deeper pockets, hmm?” Jaxon tossed out the challenge.
A Domme offered ten thousand five hundred. Even though Fiona’s head was bowed respectfully, she glanced up to reveal a grin.
“Ten thousand six hundred,” the Dom offered.
On and on it went until the Dom won, at twelve thousand nine hundred.
“Thank you, sir!” Jaxon clapped. “And now, I won’t be satisfied until we break the thirteen thousand barrier. Next up is slave number two.”
Now that Fiona had been auctioned off, Hannah took a moment to scan the guests. She refused to acknowledge that she was looking for Mason, even though her gaze went straight to the spot where he’d been standing.
Not seeing him, she walked away. Nervous energy crawled through her, so she paced, hoping to wear some of it off. A couple of submissives shot her sympathetic glances, and she responded with a wan smile.
“Group two, get ready!” Trinity called. “Master Tore will be back soon!”
Several minutes later, the first five slaves were returned backstage. “We’ll get started on the paperwork right away,” Trinity promised. “Your name will be called as soon as we’re ready for you. Meet me at the podium in the reception area.”
The moment the submissives were released from their bondage, Hannah hurried to Fiona. “Who won you?”
“Master Silvestri.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “We played together once, and it was ah-mazing.” She rolled her eyes. “Ah-mazing. I was hoping for this.” But, ever the good friend, she gave Hannah a quick hug. “Call me tomorrow. I mean it. If you don’t, I’ll tell Trinity to check up on you.”
“Quit worrying.”
“No way. This was all my idea, and now I’m feeling a little guilty for talking you into it.”
Hannah gave what she hoped was a reassuring nod. “You didn’t force me to come here.”
They chatted for a few minutes before one of the dungeon monitors came backstage and shouted out Fiona’s name.
“This is why I like being first. I’ll be having fun while everyone else is still bogged down in the details.”
“Fiona!”
“Coming!” Then she grinned. “Have fun, Han. Seriously. This is supposed to be a good time. Remember that, okay? Liam was an asshole. Not everyone is like him.” She all but skipped toward the backstage exit.
On some level, Hannah knew her friend was right. But her wounds ran deep.
As the next few slaves were auctioned off, Hannah alternated between watching the proceedings and giving herself a pep talk. She’d meant what she told Fiona. Hannah did want to scene—especially with a Dom she wouldn’t run into in her everyday life.
When she signed up, she’d asked to be in the final group so that she would get a sense of how things worked. She hadn’t imagined how excruciating the wait would turn out to be. Now she was anxious to get it over with.
Finally, Trinity announced it was time for the remaining slaves to take their places.
As the collar she disliked was clipped into place, Hannah struggled to find peace. Instead, she could barely breathe.
Tore gave them a critical once-over. “Daveed.” He pointed to the man right behind Hannah, the one who’d asked if he was going to turn into a pumpkin. She loved his enthusiasm. “Contain yourself, man!”
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