by Eva Gill
“I love everything.” He turned, the atmosphere was charged with sexual tension as Alice kept her focus on him. He walked to a large bay window directly opposite, overlooking the back gardens and Sherwood Gardens beyond. “Why is the asking price on the house so low? And at that, with all these beautiful furnishings included…” Jonah trailed off as he stood looking out.
Alice again came closer. “The owners are in the process of a divorce, sadly, and want to wrap things up, as the wife is emigrating and the value needs to be split. It’s all rather unfortunate. They were a little strange when I met them.”
She sounded puzzled, and he turned to face her. “How so?”
Alice frowned. “Well, the wife was so quiet, so demure. She never looked directly at me, she only spoke when he addressed her, and he seemed to, I don’t know, control her…”
Jonah felt tingles run down his spine. From his research, it sounded like a dominance and submission dynamic; he found it funny that Alice would find it abnormal. He had certain suspicions about this girl.
“Oh, that is strange.” he mumbled. “I want this house, Alice, and I would like to make an offer on it right now.”
She nodded. “Of course. The asking price is two point nine million dollars, but honestly, I reckon they will accept anything over two, just to be done with it. I suggest you start at two and see what they say. We haven’t had any interest in the property, and it’s been on the market for a month, but they want a speedy sale and are not exactly poorly off.”
“Perfect. I will do an offer of two million exactly, let me know what the response is.”
They left the room, and Alice stopped him. “But you haven’t seen the basement, or the rest of the house?” She sounded disappointed.
Jonah nodded. “I know, but I want it regardless. I will walk through it now and look at everything else. Contact the sellers and tell them right away, if you don’t mind.”
Jonah wandered through the house on his own, loving every single detail. He came to a door with a brass plaque on it, reading ‘basement’ and pushed it open to enter the cool darkness beyond.
“Is there a light switch?” he asked, feeling his way along the wall, blinking when Alice pulled a cord behind him to illuminate the stairwell.
“I got their voicemail, but I’ll try again later and be in touch regarding the cost.” Alice stood close to him, her breath sweet and warm, her eyes shining. “Come.”
She beckoned, excitement in her voice as she passed him to sashay down the stairs. He stumbled down behind Alice, still partially blinded, and when his eyes adjusted he had to gaze around him for quite a few moments before he fully realized what he was looking at. It was a perfectly laid out dungeon.
***
“They left it kitted out like this. I mean, there are no toys or anything, that would be gross. But the furniture is here,” Alice said, as she walked over to the leather-upholstered cross mounted on the farthest wall.
Jonah stood frozen, his gaze running from the cross, to a bench, to chains dangling from the ceiling. His heart pounded in his throat as he saw a large, leather armchair in one corner, on a Persian rug, and a small table and bookshelf at its side.
“Fuck,” he muttered, wiping the beads of perspiration from his brow, where they had suddenly formed. “They have a fully kitted out fucking dungeon.” He was speaking more to himself, but looked across at Alice. “Excuse my language, but you knew this and didn’t tell me?”
Alice turned her back toward the cross, leaning against it to reach up and grip the restraints casually. “I wanted to see your face when you first saw this. It catches most people a little off-guard,” She was flirting with him, outrageously so.
“Did you now?”
A sense of cockiness rolled over him and he moved closer, near enough to touch her, stroked the leather cross behind her and saw the lust in her big, blue eyes. This was the first time he had really noticed how pretty the girl was. She looked very young at that moment.
She sidled up to him and snaked her arms around his neck. “I did, yes,” she said.
Before Jonah could gauge her next move, soft, warm lips were on his. He closed his eyes and savoured the feel of her silken mouth, her breasts pressing against his chest and her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. He felt her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse.
Reality interrupted, swiftly shaking him from his enjoyment, and Jonah gently pushed Alice away.
“I can’t do this, I am sorry Alice, my life is complicated right now, and if I end up hurting you…” He ran a hand through his hair and turned away.
Her giggles puzzled him. “Don’t worry, it’s only a kiss. I get excited when I look at this room and the stuff in it, it makes me curious about what kinds of things people might get up to in here.” She seemed completely nonplussed, and led him from the basement. Jonah had never come across a woman who so casually dismissed a rebuttal.
“Now, I know there are parts of the house you haven’t seen, would you like to? Or shall we see what comes from the offer? I am happy to arrange another tour, I don’t mind.”
She stopped at the top of the stairs and straightened her skirt, then glanced at him, still smiling.
Jonah felt thoroughly ruffled and couldn’t think straight. “Um, yes, I mean, let’s just see what happens, I have a few things I need to get done today.”
He followed her through the house to the foyer. She bid him farewell while she turned back to go in and switch off the lights, along with the fire she had demonstrated for him, still burning in the living room.
“I will be in touch Jonah,” she had said, waving a small hand.
***
Jonah’s head spun when he sat down in his car. Between the overwhelming desire he had to own this house, and the bewildering, unexpected physical experience with Alice, he didn’t know what to make of it all. He drove home in a slight daze, and sat in the parking garage with his head resting on his steering wheel for a solid few minutes. His nose was still filled with the smell of Alice’s perfume, his mind reeled with images of Anya and the club, and thoughts of the upcoming initiation night. He still had no idea what any of it entailed, and the not knowing part of things always left him unsettled.
When he got to his apartment the light on his answering machine blinked red, letting him know that there was a massage. He pushed the replay button and stood listening, getting the next shock of the day.
“Good afternoon, Mr. MacPherson. I have news regarding your apartment, if you would please return my call soon.” It was the voice of his own estate agent, and from her tone, she was excited about something.
He picked up the phone and dialled Annette.
She answered almost instantly. “Mr. MacPherson! I have such good news, you know the young couple I showed your apartment to? Well, they want to offer you one point six million.”
Jonah choked on his own spit. “I’m sorry, how much?” he gasped.
Annette chuckled. “I realise it is a high offer, but they really want to make sure the apartment goes to nobody else. Are you happy with that?”
Jonah struggled to find his voice, but eventually laughed out loud. “Hell yes, I’ll take that offer, it’s perfect. Thank you, this is amazing.”
She promised to email him the relevant paperwork and then hung up. He thought his surprises for the day were over until his cellular rang in his pocket, and he answered it to hear Alice’s voice.
“Hi handsome,” she purred.
So the flirting was still on.
Jonah held his phone away to stare at it for a moment, and then replied, “Hi Alice, what’s up?”
She giggled, which seemed to be her go-to response for everything. How could such cheerfulness not promote sales, Jonah thought. “I called to congratulate you. Your offer was accepted and you are now the owner of a beautiful, big house, with a kinky dungeon.”
He sat down, hard, in the nearest chair. “Oh my God.”
It was more of a murmur t
han an answer, but she still responded. “Go and celebrate, Mr. Macpherson. Have a bottle of champagne, tell everyone the good news and start planning your décor! You can move in within the next two weeks.” She sounded genuinely happy for him, and hung up with a happy greeting.
It was much later in the day, early evening in fact, after he had told his parents about the house and had a shower, when he sat back on his couch with a beer, processing all the sudden changes. He dreaded the paperwork to come, but hoped it would be swiftly wrapped up, having already dealt with his own apartment’s side of things.
When Jonah’s phone rang again, for what felt like the hundredth time, he was sorely tempted to ignore it. He looked at the screen, which showed a blocked number, and answered anyway, with a heavy sigh. He wasn’t quite sure why. “MacPherson, hello.”
“Jonah, how delighted I am that you answered. Most people show complete disdain for blocked numbers, how are you lad?” It was Bartholomew Black, and Jonah smiled to himself at the familiarity the man showed, using the term ‘lad’ so easily.
“Good evening, Bartholomew, I am well thank you. It’s been a surprising, well, a great day.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, he truly was happy, but why was this man calling him? “Is there anything you need?”
Bartholomew didn’t hesitate on the other end of the line. “Why, no. Other than still being overjoyed that you will be with us on Saturday, I merely wished to congratulate you on the purchase of your new home, and wish you joy in the years to come.”
Jonah’s breath caught He started to speak and then calmed his tone; he was still deeply wary of these people. “How did you know?”
He walked into his kitchen, leaned against the counter and rubbed his forehead as he remembered the feeling that Bartholomew had read his mind at their last encounter.
There came a mild laugh from Bartholomew. “Do you not think the house may have been owned by someone in our… How do I put this, organisation? Or that your pretty little estate agent may be affiliated with us? For that matter, perhaps your own apartment’s buyers may have had incentive to purchase your place…” He trailed off, leaving Jonah confused. He hadn’t even thought of these things.
Jonah had no response, so Bartholomew continued. “I shall see you on Saturday, Jonah, don’t be late.” With that he hung up.
Jonah stared at his phone, dropped it carelessly on the counter and walked into his bedroom. “I give up,” he muttered. He brushed his teeth and slid into his bed. He had had more than enough excitement for one day.
Chapter 4
Saturday afternoon found Jonah standing in front of his closet, panicking about what to wear. “Black,” he mumbled. “Something black.”
He ended up in chinos and a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It was far from formal, but he had no tux lying around. He reached for a jacket and carefully brushed the lint from it, threw it over his arm and headed for the door. Jonah slid into his car and switched on the radio, and then was on his way to the club.
He was tense and on edge, not knowing what to expect.
***
At the club, all was dark. It was exactly as Jonah remembered: a creepy and run down old mansion. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it opened as he did so. The same man who had last greeted him bowed and stepped aside to let Jonah enter.
“Good evening Mr. MacPherson, if you have a seat I will call an escort for you, to lead you to where the others are waiting.”
Jonah’s brow furrowed. “The others?”
The older man nodded. “The initiates, sir.”
He spoke as though Jonah should know exactly what he meant and turned away, walking toward the heavy doors which led into the rest of the maze-like building. The couch was the same, the carpet was the same. Nothing here had changed. Jonah sat down, marvelling as before at the deep colour and soft textures, and as he stared at the plush fabric below his fingers, the door opened again. It took a moment for Jonah to realise the girl who followed the, well, ‘butler’ for all purpose and intent, was Alice.
The flirtatious young estate agent smiled demurely at him now, and bowed to him. “Good evening, Jonah.”
“Alice?” he stammered, bending to look at her face.
She raised herself up to stand tall, still only reaching just below his shoulder. “Yes.”
He shook his head. “Leave it to Bartholomew to tell the truth…” He trailed off as Alice turned to start towards the door.
When they entered the main floor, Jonah stood gaping at the crowds. The room was filled with formally clad men and women, and he almost lost track of Alice.
The slaves, such as Alice clearly was, wore the garb he had seen Anya in that very first night. Alice was cuffed at wrists and ankles, and a matching ornate gold collar sat at her throat, joined by a diaphanous pale pink, chiffon piece of fabric. Jonah suddenly remembered something he had noticed about her walk when she’d shown him the house. She moved the same way all the other slaves did, extremely gracefully, with a specific gait. He would have to learn about that.
She led him through the crowd and stopped in front of another heavy wooden door, turning to face him. “This is where I leave you for now, Jonah. You are expected downstairs, the Masters will be waiting.” Alice kissed his cheek tenderly and pushed the door open in front of him. “I hope to see you after…”
She watched him descend the stairs, and then the door swung shut. Jonah looked around at the walls of rough stone and the lit torches in iron sconces, at intervals. It felt medieval.
The sound of Gregorian-type chanting, along with muted voices, floated toward him, and as he stepped onto the floor, several faces turned to him. A tall man with hair as black as the cloak he wore approached Jonah, and extended a hand.
“Good evening, my name is Master Gregor, and who might you be?” His tone was polite, but reserved.
Jonah shook the proffered hand. “Good evening, I am Jonah MacPherson.”
“Jonah, if you’d step this way with me for a moment. Before I introduce you to the other initiates, I will give you the basics of what will happen this evening.”
He placed a hand on Jonah’s elbow to guide him to a quiet corner. They stopped in a quiet corner, and after a brief glance at the people in the room, mostly men, Jonah turned to Gregor, who was patiently waiting for his attention.
“Sorry, this is a little overwhelming,” Jonah blurted.
Gregor seemed kind, and beckoned to a slave somewhere behind Jonah.
“This is the evening of your initiation, Jonah. This cloak will be yours from now on.” A slave bowed to Jonah and handed him a thick, black cloak, similar to the one Gregor wore. “You will wear it when you bow to accept your mentor, and you will wear it every time you come here; it shows that you are one of us.”
Jonah nodded, flung the thick cloak around his shoulders, surprised by the softness and weight of it, and fastened the clasp at his throat. Gregor gestured for him to follow, and led him to the group of men nearby, all looking very uncertain and hesitant.
“Jonah Macpherson,” Gregor said, waiting for the other men to face him. “These are the other initiates of the Realm tonight: Anderson, Damian, Bryce, Michael and Bailey.”
They all nervously shook hands and faced Gregor again without a word.
Gregor smiled, looking from one to the next before speaking. “You will all form a circle, standing on the markings.” He gestured to figures carved in the stone floor. “Follow your instincts to which carving you are most drawn to. They hold significance you are not yet aware of and speak to individual men and women differently. A Master has been chosen for each of you, according to what we know of you, and he will present the chalice to you, to drink your acceptance.” Gregor paused, a dramatic silence ensuing, and then looked grave. “If you refuse, you will leave and never return to this place.”
The music changed, the mood along with it. Celtic drums made Jonah’s sternum vibrate in his chest, and he jumped at the sudden turn from gentle chanting.
Jonah watched Gregor lift his gaze to another man at the other end of the room. When he nodded, Gregor spoke only two words. “It’s time.”
Jonah looked at all the carvings and stepped toward one in particular he could not look away from: a side on, two-faced head wearing the Greek Laurel around both brows. The faces were gentle, and placed soft, gentle thoughts in Jonah’s mind, thoughts of his changing life in a positive aspect. His nervousness and the fear he had felt about all the new things in his life fell away as he stepped onto it. He closed his eyes, waiting.
Jonah stood as still as he could in the circle, trying to keep his breathing calm. There were six of them, the new ones, in the basement, and Jonah had not met any of them until moments ago. He could hear his own heart beating in his ears over the rhythmic pounding and chanting of the Celtic music the Masters had chosen for the ritual. It filled his head even though the volume had gradually been lowered. One of the Masters passed between the new initiates, his heavy cloak brushing the floor, and everyone was silenced.
The man who walked amongst them Jonah recognised as Gregor. He stopped in the middle of the circle and started addressing them all, facing each one in turn. “Welcome, tonight’s initiates, to The Forgotten Realm. We accept you into our fold with open arms. Long may you be with us, and may you cherish the unique gifts of your decided Master.”
He reached toward each man, one at a time placing a hand on their shoulder. “Jonah, Anderson, Damian, Bryce, Michael and Bailey.” He spoke their names as he touched them.
As expected and instructed, a different Master approached each man, holding a chalice of wine, and in the ritual gesture, raised it to the initiate, the heavy folds of his cloak rubbing velvet against velvet as he moved.
“Drink, and take me as your teacher,” they all said simultaneously. Jonah knew this was the moment in which he had to decide, even though he had never met the man in front of him. It was now or never. Either he stayed and entered the dark world of his deepest fantasies and desires, or he left and returned to his vanilla life, forsaking all the delicious possibilities The Forgotten Realm held, barred forever from its premises.