One True Master: Desire Island Series - Book 1

by Claire Thompson

  She had demurely said that was his prerogative as a Desire Island Master. She’d managed to keep a straight face for at least five seconds before adding, “Of course, I’ll have to kill you in a jealous rage afterward. I never was good at sharing.”

  The dungeon had filled with party-goers, some of them already pairing off to play at the various scene stations, others slowly making their way to the folding chairs set up in front of the auction stage, play money clutched in their hands for the bidding.

  Master Ryan climbed onto the stage and tapped the microphone. “Good evening, fellow perverts and kindred spirits. Those of you who wish to participate, please take your seats, as the auction is about to begin. Just to review the rules, bidding starts at fifty dollars. You should have received your play money at the door. We have twelve candidates tonight”—he waved his hand toward the row of kneeling slaves by the side of the stage—“each one more submissive than the last.”

  Amidst whoops and scattered applause, he continued, “You can find out their details in the auction brochure you received with your play money. The purchase of a slave gives you rights over that person for the rest of the evening. The play is fully consensual, with limits to be negotiated beforehand. We ask that all Doms respect those limits, and keep things fun and friendly.”

  He glanced toward Abbie, who stood at the edge of the stage, dressed again in her sexy green satin bustier and matching thong, her long, smooth legs bare, four-inch green satin mules on her feet. “Slave Abbie, please bring up the first slave for auction.”

  First up was a plump woman of around forty named Susie. She wore a black leather mini dress and high stiletto heels, her blazing red hair teased up into a bouffant. Master Ryan directed her to stand in various poses, turning and bending this way and that as members of the audience called out their bids.

  A short, stocky man with silver hair brushed back from a high forehead won the bidding at five hundred dollars. He climbed the short set of stairs on the side of the stage to hand Master Ryan his play money and retrieve his prize. Abbie attached a leash to Susie’s collar and the man led her away.

  Several more subs went up on stage. The bidding was fast and furious, the atmosphere sizzling with underlying sexual tension, along with good humor and plain old fun.

  “Next up,” Master Ryan finally said, “is slave Skylar.”

  Skylar rose smoothly from her knees and made her way to the stage, chin raised, eyes properly downcast. Though she hadn’t seen him enter, she could feel Master Caelan’s presence in the room. Her skin tingled with the need to feel his touch.

  The bidding started at one hundred dollars in play money and rapidly escalated to a thousand. Why hadn’t her Master made a bid for her? She dared a glance out at the audience. Looking smoking hot in black leather, he was standing to the side of the chairs, his eyes fixed on her, a small enigmatic smile on his face.

  There was a silence after the last bid, while Skylar held her breath. Then Master Caelan called out in a loud, clear voice, “Ten thousand dollars.”

  Master Ryan waited a beat in the stunned silence that followed. Then he flashed a grin at Master Caelan, as no one was given more than one thousand dollars in play money at the door. Of course, it was all in good fun, so no one protested when Master Ryan banged his gavel and called out, “Sold to Master Caelan for ten thousand dollars.”

  Amidst laughter and cheers, Master Caelan climbed the stage to claim his prize. Skylar beamed up at him as he approached her. Instead of taking her leash and leading her off the stage, he pulled something from his back pocket.

  Skylar saw it was an oblong velvet-covered jewelry box. The audience quieted as he opened the box and held it out for her to see. Inside was a beautiful collar made of soft leather dyed a beautiful green. A gold heart dangled from the O ring at its center.

  “Oh,” she breathed softly, her eyes locking with his as her hand fluttered up to her mouth. “It’s beautiful, Sir.”

  “Slave Skylar,” he said in a voice designed to carry. “Will you wear my slave collar, and by so doing agree to serve me with your heart, body and soul? And I, in turn, will own, cherish and protect you with all the love I have to give.”

  Skylar dropped to her knees. Lifting her hair from the back of her neck, she unbuckled the training collar she’d worn since her arrival on the island and let it fall, along with the attached leash, to the stage. Her heart filled with love as tears sprang to her eyes.

  Gazing up at the man she adored, she replied, “Yes, Master Caelan. I will.”

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  Thanks, I really appreciate it! Claire

  And COMING SOON - Book 2 of the Desire Island Series – Two of a Kind!

  Here’s a sneak peek at Chapter 1

  Two of a Kind - Chapter 1

  Kendra twisted back to regard herself in the changing room’s three-way mirror. She scowled in irritation. The bikini hid the worst of the scars on her ass better than the other seven she’d tried on, but not those on the backs of her thighs. At least she had fair skin, so now that the scars had faded to white, they weren’t quite as obvious.

  Still, there was no way to hide the ridged scar between her breasts, no matter what bathing suit she chose. “Tough shit,” she said aloud, glaring at her image in the mirror. “This is who I am now. I had a bad scene but I’m here and I’m fine.”

  Kendra made her purchases and left the mall. The Seattle sky spit rain as she hurried through the parking lot to her car. She was excited about her upcoming new position on Desire Island. Her job as a pastry chef at a low-end chain restaurant had lived down to its reputation, and she was utterly sick of the damp, dreary weather of her adopted city. She was more than ready to hit the road.

  She’d been listening to her cousin, Abbie, gush about Desire Island ever since Abbie had taken the job the year before. “I still get to use my skill set,” Abbie had explained. “But instead of the lotus pose or downward dog, I teach BDSM slave positions and grace training. This is a loving, supportive BDSM community where no one judges or condemns. Not to mention we live on a fabulous resort island with free room and board. And as an added perk, I get to play in the dungeons and participate in the slave auctions.”

  More like sisters than cousins, Abbie and Kendra were born just four weeks apart, grew up on the same block in Cincinnati, and spent as much time at each other’s house as at their own. They had admitted their shared passion for all things BDSM when they were barely fifteen years old. Kendra had been active since college in the BDSM club scene, but Abbie had taken it to a whole other level—now living and working as a staff slave on the island.

  When Abbie had called to let Kendra know they were looking to hire a dessert chef for the island’s kitchens, Kendra leaped at the opportunity. She’d managed to get a decent reference from her boss, after he’d finished grousing about her leaving him in a lurch.

  She’d interviewed remotely with one of the owners of the resort, a Brad Pitt lookalike named Master Ryan, along with a portly executive chef named Henry Pratt. She’d felt an instant rapport with Henry, who would be her direct boss. “I’ve been looking for a good pastry chef. I’m more a meat and potatoes kind of guy,” he said with a big belly laugh that had charmed her.

  Master Ryan had added, “We really like to employ folks who are active in the lifestyle. Abbie tells me you’re one of us.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Kendra had admitted with a grin.

  They’d offered her the position on the spot and, throwing caution to wind, she’d accepted.

  It had been over five months now since the horrific incident. She basically retreated from everything except her work, avoiding the clubs and anyone associated with the scene. But her wounds were healed now. She wasn’t ready to throw in the towel at the age of thirty-one. It was time to move on. She was ready to get back i
nto the scene. It had been too long since she’d inhaled the intoxicating scent of fine leather and welcomed the stinging kiss of the lash.

  “Desire Island, here I come!”

  After a full day of travel, Kendra was finally on the boat that would take her to the island. Her tank top and jeans hid her scars. She lifted her face to the warm, welcoming sun and breathed in the briny scent of the ocean. Golden light sparkled over deep blue water as the catamaran sped toward the island.

  “There she is,” the captain called out to the half dozen passengers. “Desire Island, where all your darkest, sexiest fantasies are brought to life.”

  As they approached the shore, Kendra saw white sand dotted with large blue and red beach umbrellas, the tops of the resort buildings just visible beyond the gently waving seagrass and brilliant green foliage.

  The captain docked and jumped out, extending his hand to help some of the older passengers off the boat while his single crew member unloaded the baggage. Not in need of assistance, Kendra hoisted her duffel bag over her shoulder and jumped up onto the dock, excitement giving her renewed energy.

  An eight-passenger golf cart waited on the path nearby, and a tall, slender young man dressed in white shorts and a black tank top, a black leather collar around his neck, climbed from the driver’s seat to help the new arrivals load their baggage.

  Just then, Kendra’s favorite person in the world came bounding toward her, long red hair flying, her face lit with a radiant smile. She was dressed in a skimpy bikini top and tiny shorts. She, too, wore a black leather collar.

  “Kendra,” Abbie cried as she reached her. “You made it!”

  Abbie pulled Kendra into her arms for a long, fierce hug that warmed her to her toes.

  As they let each other go, Abbie put her hands on Kendra’s shoulders and peered into her eyes, concern etching her features. “How are you, really, Kenny? For real, behind your tough girl persona?”

  The sudden question and the pain in Abbie’s eyes took Kendra off guard for a moment. She blinked back threatening tears and forced a bright smile. “You worry too much, Abs.” Pulling away, she punched Abbie playfully on the shoulder. “I’m doing just fine. No asshole bully boy is going to get the best of me.”

  Abbie continued to regard her with concern, but after a moment, she smiled back. “It’s great to see you, cousin. I’m so, so glad you’re finally here.”

  “It’s awesome to see you too, Abbie.” She drew in a deep breath of the fresh sea air. “And it’s great to be here. If I never see another rainy Seattle day, that’ll be fine with me.”

  “I brought one of the employee-use carts so we don’t have to ride with the guests. That’s Tommy over there. He’ll take them for check-in.” Abbie waved toward the guy now loading other new arrivals’ baggage onto the back of the other cart. “He’s a staff slave, too. Oh, I almost forgot,” she added, reaching to take Kendra’s duffel. “The rest of your stuff arrived yesterday. I put it in your room.”

  “Great.” Kendra slid into the passenger seat of the cart as Abbie tossed her duffel in the back. Though she wasn’t sure how long she’d end up staying on the island, she had packed up her clothing and a few of her favorite books and mementos, and had them shipped ahead of time. She’d gotten rid of everything else, determined to make a fresh start.

  The strong, sweet scent of climbing jasmine overrode the salty tang in the air as they drove through the trees to the center of the island. Abbie took Kendra on a brief tour of the developed part of the island, showing Abbie the pool, the beach bar and cabana and the nature trails.

  “This place is really gorgeous,” Kendra said, as Abbie beamed with pride. “Even without the BDSM, I can see why you enjoy living and working here so much.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Kenny. I hope you’ll love it as much as I do.” Abbie pulled the cart into the circular driveway in front of the main building. They entered the lobby, where some of the new arrivals were clustered around the reception desk staffed by a petite woman with short blond hair and shy, engaging smile.

  Kendra looked around the lobby in awe. “Holy crap, Abbie,” she said, taking in the St. Andrew’s cross and the whip display hung along one wall. “This is awesome.”

  Abbie laughed. “This is nothing, babe. Wait’ll I give you the grand tour of our BDSM facilities. And then there are the nightly play parties. And we have these super fun slave auctions twice a week. But the really special thing about this place is the professional training that goes on. Desire Island is way more than just a hedonistic playground for kinksters. We offer intensive one-on-one slave training packages and we just recently brought a new guy onboard who trains Doms and couples with a focus on risk aware consensual kink.”

  Kendra laughed. “Okay, okay, cousin. Stop with the hard sell. I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “You are,” Abbie cried, throwing her arm over Kendra’s shoulders. “I’m so happy you finally made it. And that”—she paused, her face again scrunching with compassion— “you’ve been able to put what happened behind you.”

  “Yesterday’s news, babe,” Kendra assured her with a dismissive wave. Abbie was the only one of the family in whom Kendra had confided, though she’d downplayed the details, not wanting to freak out her cousin or to admit how stupid she’d been to let it happen.

  Abbie shook her head with evident admiration. “You always were so kickass cool, Kendra, even when we were kids. Remember when that bully, Doug Farley, kept tormenting me on the way home from middle school? You were like a foot shorter and thirty pounds lighter than he was, but that didn’t stop you from grabbing him by the nuts and telling him if he ever bothered your cousin again, you’d rip them off and shove them down his throat.”

  Kendra laughed. “Once you stand up to the bullies, they usually run off with their tail between their legs.” If you get the chance to stand up, that is…

  Once the new arrivals had headed for the elevators, Abbie introduced Maya, the girl behind the receptionist counter. Her slave collar, Kendra noticed, was different than Abbie’s or Tommy’s. It was made of a wider band of leather that looked soft as butter, a pink ceramic heart hanging from the O-ring at its center.

  “Maya is owned,” Abbie said, not trying to conceal the longing in her tone. “She belongs to Mistress Ella.” Maya beamed, radiating that sweet serenity Kendra had seen from time to time in submissives heavily into the scene.

  “You always were such a romantic,” Kendra replied indulgently. “I hope your Master Right claims you one day, Abbie, just like you want.”

  “You, on the other hand,” Abbie teased, “are way too bossy to ever let anyone claim you.”

  “You got that right,” Kendra replied with a snort.

  Abbie grabbed her hand. “Come on back to the slave quarters and then I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  “Slave quarters? That doesn’t sound too inviting. I’m visualizing bleak log cabins with straw mattresses on the floor.”

  “Not hardly,” Abbie laughed. “Wait’ll you see. Your room is right next to mine. Each room is equipped with its own St. Andrew’s cross. How cool is that? I got special permission from Mistress Ella for you to stay there, even though you’re not technically a staff slave or trainee.” She flashed a grin. “It pays to have connections.”

  Abbie hadn’t been exaggerating about Desire Island being a BDSM lover’s dream. There was a top rate play dungeon, and just beyond it an awesome water room complete with submersion tanks, a water torture wall and an electric fucking machine that Abbie said was, “guaranteed to blow your fucking mind.”

  The second floor was as exciting as the first, with room after room filled with impact toys and BDSM equipment to satisfy every possible kink. “The top three floors are for the guests and Masters,” Abbie explained.

  “There are a few nonresident workers who are ferried here every day. One of the questions during their interview is, ‘Are you comfortable with nudity among the guests and trainees?’ Abbie told her with a gri
n. “Another is, ‘Do your regard BDSM as a healthy, natural expression of some people’s sexuality?’ The interview process does a great job of weeding out applicants who would freak at our lifestyle. Everyone on the island is either into the scene or sympathetic and nonjudgmental about it. Makes it a really great place to live and work.

  “We can check out the dungeon party later this evening, if you want,” Abbie added as she led Kendra to the main kitchen to meet her new boss. “It’s a hoot, watching all the guests going nuts in the BDSM lover’s equivalent of a kid given carte blanche in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.”

  Kendra laughed. “Do you get a golden ticket?”

  “Even better, a golden flogger.”

  Henry was as affable and jovial in person as he had been during her interview, and Kendra knew she’d made the right decision to join his team. “Welcome aboard, Kendra. Take the rest of the day off to learn your way around,” he added with a grin. “I’ll see you here at five thirty tomorrow morning. We’ll get things going and figure out your schedule.”

  Afterward, Abbie had to teach a positions class, so Kendra decided to relax on the beach for a while. It was the first time she’d be in public with her scars showing. She toyed with the idea of wearing a coverup over her bikini, but decided against it. People would probably just assume she’d been in a car accident or something. Anyway, it was no one’s business but her own.

  The beach was perfect, the warm day tempered by a steady, refreshing sea breeze. She actually fell asleep for a while under one of the huge beach umbrellas, and no one disturbed her.

  Abbie fetched her to get ready for dinner a little before seven. Instead of going into the large, bustling main dining room that accommodated the island’s guests, Abbie brought her to a smaller dining room located near the kitchen. The door was ajar and Kendra could see a handful of people seated around a circular table.