Slave To Love

by Bridget Midway

  Taren started to lower herself to her knees, but Jace must have had other things in mind. He led her to the bed and eased her back onto it. He crawled over her. After brushing his lips over her cheeks and chin, still avoiding her lips, he moved them down her neck, licking her down to her breasts.

  He held one tit in his hand. The other, he sucked into his mouth. Taren arched her back and held the back of his head. Everything in her brain told her to kick this man out of her room. Never see him again. Write him off as an experience and move on. Her body, however, had another agenda.

  She found that after their first time, she craved him like a drug, and Taren had never been addicted to anything but fun and happiness. Past boyfriends she’d had sex with never made her feel this good, this satisfied. Jace knew what to do with her, how to please her.

  He moved his mouth over to her other breast while his large hand massaged the one he just laved. He twirled his tongue around her nipple. Each pass caused her body to jerk and twitch out of control. She’d never had an orgasm from her breasts being played with, but she could see where it would be possible.

  Jace eased down her body until he positioned his head between her legs. Taren willingly parted her thighs while he moved her nether lips apart. Her heart pounded until she felt his tongue lick her pussy opening to her clit. Then she jackknifed off the bed.

  “Please, please, please, don’t stop. But I think I’m going to scream.” She nodded. “I know I’ll scream.”

  “Get a pillow.” Jace covered her clit with his mouth and circled his tongue around the tip.

  She thought his request that she retrieve a pillow didn’t make sense until then. She reached as far as she could without jostling the man giving her the ultimate pleasure to snag a pillow. Instead of placing it behind her head, she covered her mouth, biting into it as he continued licking and sucking her.

  Sexually, this man could do no wrong. Did that mean she needed to keep him around? She closed her legs around his head. He gripped her thighs but didn’t bother pushing them away. He must have liked being captured.

  When he dipped his tongue inside her, she broke. Taren screamed into the pillow while her body convulsed. As soon as she settled back on the bed, Jace continued his oral assault, licking and teasing her until extracted another hard orgasm out of her.

  “Good.” Jace looked up at her. “Tasty.” He licked his lips.

  Not content with being the only one satisfied, she sat up, nearly knocking her head against his. As soon as Jace stood, she started on his pants.

  “Whoa, whoa.” He held her hands. “What are you doing?”

  “Let me satisfy you.” She looked up at him.

  “No sex, remember?”

  “I’ll do you like you did me.” She brushed her face against his crotch.

  Jace bent over and faced her. “If I’m still here tomorrow, maybe then.” He smiled.

  “Will you kiss me?” She stood, but left her robe open.

  He shook his head. “Can’t.” He backed toward the office door. “I need to go before people start looking for me.” Jace stopped his trek to the office door when a knock sounded on the bedroom door.

  “Taren? Are you ready for hair and makeup?” someone asked from the other side. The doorknob jiggled.

  Thank God Taren locked the door. Now that she knew Jace would have full access to her didn’t make her feel as uncomfortable as she thought it would. She wanted more of him. This sweet torture proved it.

  “Just a second,” Taren called back.

  Jace opened the office door. Before ducking out, he winked at her, then closed the door and locked it.

  Damn. What would she do now?

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Where the hell have you been?” Fear asked as he sat at the end of the dining room table, Jace’s normal spot.

  Jace sat at an empty chair on the side since Lord No sat at the other end. Had he been there to dinner on time, he would have been able to claim his normal position. He would be tardy for every meal if he could have an appetizer like that each time.

  “I got here earlier than you guys. My stuff was in the guesthouse out back.” Jace drank some of his sweetened iced tea before he dove into his steak.

  “There’s a guesthouse?” Night set her fork down. “Why the hell aren’t we in that instead of being put together like this is summer camp?”

  “My guess is that it’s going to be used for something. Challenge. Reward. I don’t know.” Jace hoped they would leave the space alone.

  Going up to the master bedroom to talk to Taren had been risky. Now that he’d be bunking with three other people, he didn’t know how he could manage that again…if he would even be there to try. Taren hadn’t said that eliminating him would be off the table.

  “So what do you all think of our prize?” Sire Swift did air quotes in talking about Taren.

  Jace started the conversation. “She’s beautiful. Seems nervous but willing to learn. That’s always good.”

  “Is she in the lifestyle already?” Miss Twist asked then took a bite of her salad.

  “My guess is that she isn’t.” Bruiser shrugged. “You can normally tell. She definitely had that deer-in-the-headlights look.”

  “The new ones are my favorite,” Sire Ball said with a smile. “They’re like babies. You get to be excited about things you’ve done over and over again because they’re seeing something for the first time and they’re hyped about it.”

  “Not me.” Fear wiped his mouth and hands. “I’d rather have a sub with some experience. If I wanted to teach, I would have been a professor.”

  A few of them nodded. Jace kept quiet. He didn’t mind showing someone new about the world of bondage and discipline. He wished he hadn’t been out of it for so long.

  “What about you, Silent Jay? Got an opinion on anything?” Fear looked at Lord No and snickered. “What? Cat got your tongue?” He laughed outright this time. “What the hell kind of Dominant doesn’t talk to his subs or slaves? How the hell are they supposed to get your intent if you don’t tell them?”

  In a blink, Lord No picked up his steak knife and threw it across the room by Fear’s head, landing it in the wall behind Fear.

  “Holy shit.” Mistress Night stared at the jutting knife then looked at Lord No. “Are you crazy? If he had moved his head, you could have killed him.”

  “I guess you understand his intent now.” Jace laughed this time. When he glanced over at Lord No, he saw him smiling a little before he continued eating.

  “You fucking prick.” Fear stood. “Trying to intimidate me?”

  Sire Ball, Sire Swift, and Bruiser all stood and held Fear back. Lord No continued eating. He didn’t even flinch or move. With knife skills like that, Jace understood why the mute man remained immobile.

  “Easy.” Bruiser patted Fear on his chest. “You were picking on him. He was showing you that he’s not going to take it.

  Fear shrugged out of their hold. “It’s nothing but jokes.” He pointed to No. “Get a fucking sense of humor.”

  Lord No cocked a smile at the corner of his mouth and winked at Fear. As funny as Jace found this situation, he remembered quickly that he would be rooming with the two of them.

  Damn. He would have to keep his mind occupied on the luscious woman he left satiated on a bed in his bedroom. Jace put his hand to his lips. He could still feel her smooth pussy against his mouth. He remembered how her body writhed with each one of his licks and flicks.

  She tasted better than anything else he’d put in his mouth. She carried an addicting combination of a salty flavor mixed with something sweet. He glanced toward the stairs, wondering if he could get another sample. Then again, would she even allow him to stay? He hated putting his fate in someone else’s hands, even hands as delicate as Taren’s.

  Damn again.

  ****

  Taren’s night outfit differed than the one they had poured her in for the interviews. She wore a long white maxi dress. It kind of reminded h
er of the dress Ananda wore when they first met. Complete with gladiator sandals and her hair up in a stylish if not messy bun, the glam team deemed her worthy for filming.

  It had been a long day. Taren hoped that this would be the last shot of the day. Plus her stomach growled so much, she would have chewed her own leg off for a meal.

  Her mind immediately went to only an hour ago when Jace gave her the best oral sex she’d ever had. She still had to blink at her kneejerk response to give him a blowjob. She wanted to please him like he’d done her. Taren couldn’t deny her need to feel him inside her.

  Damn Jace for trying to keep her honest. She admitted that if they had had sex, she would have confessed. At this point, her confession would be bragging.

  God, Jace defined a sexy man. She had to push that aside to keep everything in perspective. He held secrets. He liked keeping his life private. He would never be unguarded with her.

  Her bedroom door opened.

  Kitty poked her head inside. “You ready?”

  Taren exhaled and sauntered to her. “I’m starving if that means anything.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad.” Kitty put her arm around Taren’s shoulders. “The cameras will be right on you as you talk to the house slaves.”

  “Great. Spinach in the teeth and all.” Taren laughed.

  “Hey.” Kitty stopped her before they descended the stairs. “Are you really okay with Master being a part of the cast? If you’re not, we can ship him out and bring back Master Rock. Clever editing, I can make it seem like you picked him instead of Master.”

  That would have solved her problem. Taren didn’t want to be that woman who couldn’t fight her own battles. She didn’t want to run away like Dori had accused her doing.

  “He’s fine. Sex doesn’t mean he’ll make a good Dom. I have to remember that that’s what I’m looking for here.” Taren threw her shoulders back to show confidence.

  “Or Domme.” Kitty winked.

  Oh, yeah.

  Kitty ushered Taren down the stairs and brought her to the dining room where Madame Macabre stood waiting for her. Now clad in nothing more than leather straps placed strategically over her breasts, vagina and ass crack, she looked like she wanted to play more than eat.

  Taren scanned the table. “I see ten place settings but only the two of us again.”

  Kitty looked off to the side. “They’re coming.”

  In perfect precision, a line of African-American women filed into the large dining room area in a single file. They circled the table, stopping at a place setting. They held the backs of their chairs as they looked at Taren.

  “Good evening,” they said in unison.

  “This is so Children of the Corn here.” Taren put her hand to her chest.

  The ladies, who came clad in similar nude-colored slip dresses, kept stoic faces until one closest to her broke and started laughing.

  “Sorry. We thought you would find this funny. We didn’t mean to freak you out.” The woman touched Taren’s arm as she continued laughing.

  “You scared me.” Taren exhaled. She had to learn to relax around here.

  “Let’s all take a seat.” Macabre sat down first. “Food is on the table. It’s family style.” She turned to Kitty. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Check the gate.” Kitty whispered something to Soneni, who ran off somewhere. Then she spoke to her cameraman before returning her attention to the group. “Okay, ladies. We’re rolling. Just keep talking until I yell cut. And action!”

  “Thank you for joining us, ladies,” Macabre began. She turned to Taren. “Taren, you’ve met your Dominants. You’ve picked the eight who will compete for you. Now meet the house slaves.”

  The ladies all bowed their heads.

  “Nice to meet you. Are you all here to serve us here in the house?” Taren draped her napkin over her lap.

  “I’m glad you asked. The plan for the next few weeks is for you to observe the action. Each of these eight women will be partnered with one of the Dominants. We thought it would be too much on you to have eight different people play with you at one time. Now you can watch each Dominant play with each one of these women, and you can make your decision from there on who wins for the session and who gets eliminated. On certain episodes, the winner will have immunity for the next episode. The loser, of course, is eliminated.”

  “That makes sense. I did kind of wonder if I was going to be strung up on a cross all day.” Taren reached for a large bowl of salad that looked to be filled with romaine lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, feta cheese, strawberries, and walnuts. She placed some on her plate and kept the bowl moving.

  “Yes, that would be too hard on you. However, after you get down to the top four, the house slaves will no longer stand in for you. You will have to take on the discipline.” Macabre scooped out a small portion of salad for herself and gave the bowl to the house slave next to her.

  Taren tried looking confident. She felt her mouth go up in a nervous smile as she picked up her fork.

  “Can I ask another question?” Taren stabbed the tines of her fork into a tomato before looking at Macabre again.

  “Of course.” She poured herself some white wine and offered some to Taren, who turned her down.

  “Why are all the house slaves black?”

  The room fell silent for a moment before the one sitting next to her started laughing again and gave Taren a playful slap on her arm. “We’re supposed to be you.”

  Taren blinked. “What?”

  “You’re picking a Dom or Domme to be your Dominant, right?” The woman with the milk chocolate-like skin tone and bright blonde hair in big curls had a thick southern accent that became more and more pronounced as she spoke.

  “Yes, of course.” Taren took a bite of her tomato.

  She loved summertime tomatoes. The freshness of it burst in her mouth, filling it with the tangy, sweet goodness. Someone had to have picked these straight from a garden.

  “You need to know if the person you pick is down for playing with someone of color. Would he or she be into race play? If so, is that something you would like? It wouldn’t make sense to have white house slaves in the mix because a white Dominant could be fine playing with her, but if he won, he may not be cool playing with you. You get it?”

  It made perfect sense. Ananda had truly thought of everything.

  Taren nodded. “Yes, I get it. Thanks for answering, uh—”

  “Oh!” The woman with the rosy cheeks placed her fork down and held out her hand. “I’m Bubbles. That’s my scene name because I am so, well, bubbly. But my real name is Anya.”

  Taren smiled and shook her hand. “I actually like Anya. Very exotic.”

  “It is. But the very first time I played with a Dom, he had me tied up on a cross and ran a feather over my entire body. I laughed so hard. I couldn’t help it. He called me Bubbles after that and it just stuck.” The voluptuous woman had curves women would kill for nowadays. Her smile brightened the entire room. Even her straight, white teeth made her appealing.

  Taren looked at the woman next to her. She had a darker skin tone, and kept her black hair in a bob style. Her eyes looked almost black, which belied her mouth that looked like she carried a perpetual smile. “And what’s your name?”

  She peered up from her salad, smile still intact. “I’m called Breeze.”

  “Why is that?” Macabre asked.

  “I’m very easygoing. There’s not much that’s done during play that I don’t like.” She continued eating.

  “What’s your real name?” Taren wanted to know more about these women.

  Breeze paused for a moment before she answered. “Karonica.”

  The activity at the table stilled.

  “Karonica? Like—”

  Before Taren could finish, Breeze said, “Like harmonica. Yes. Unusual, I know.”

  “I wouldn’t say unusual. Unique.” Taren nodded. “Like Taren or Anya.”

  “Yeah.�
� Bubbles jumped around in her seat.

  Yes, her scene name definitely fit her.

  “Nice to meet you.” Taren looked at the woman next to Breeze. “And you?”

  “Beauty. They call me Beauty.” The woman with the golden skin tone smiled. Her naturally curly hair fell about her face and shoulders in waves.

  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.