“I can?” Jaime stared down at her wrists, stunned.
“Sure. Didn’t you realize that? There’s no padlock or anything. The chains are more, what’s the word, symbolic, than anything. It’s a mindset—it helps get you in the right headspace, you know?”
Jaime nodded. If that was its purpose, it had been right on the mark. She focused on her bonds, twisting her right hand to get at the clip holding the left wrist cuff in place. When she’d freed herself, she looked up, but Lucia had gone.
Fully awake and eager for whatever the day held, Jaime climbed out of the bed. She hung the chain with its cuffs on the eyebolt in the wall, running her fingers lightly over the links. She had done it! She’d made it through her first day and night at The Enclave. She pulled the quilt into place and neatly arranged the pillows at the head of the bed.
Padding on bare feet, she walked to the bathroom and headed directly for one of the toilets. Though not particularly keen to use the toilet in front of others, she realized that was kind of silly, given the fact they were all kept naked 24/7. Modesty had no place in a sub’s repertoire.
When Jaime came out of the stall, she saw Danielle standing in front of the mirror, a blusher brush and compact case in her hand. “I didn’t realize we could use makeup,” Jaime blurted as she approached.
Danielle didn’t even glance in her direction, but Lucia replied, “Staff slaves can. You can’t, not while you’re in training. Now hurry up and shower. You’ll find a fresh toothbrush and a tube of paste there in the first stall.” She pointed, adding, “Wash and condition your hair, too, but move as fast as you can. I’ll groom you and fix your hair.” She glanced pointedly at the clock, and Jaime hurried over to the shower stalls.
When she emerged from the shower, Lucia and she were the only ones left in the bathroom, which suited Jaime fine. She toweled herself dry and wrapped the damp towel in a turban around her head.
Lucia sat on the edge of the sunken bathtub, a tray containing a razor and various tubes and jars balanced by her side. There was a chair made of sturdy white plastic in the otherwise empty tub, its metal legs tipped with rubber caps. “Sit in there,” Lucia directed as she turned on the tap and reached for the removable shower nozzle.
Jaime climbed into the tub and sat on the wide plastic seat. “I don’t think she likes me very much.”
“Who, Danielle?” Lucia shrugged. “She’s had it tough. She didn’t train here, you know. She came with someone, Master Alan, about four months ago. They were long-term guests, and she stayed with him in his room upstairs. Then something happened. I’m not sure what—she doesn’t talk about it—but he took a job offer overseas and left her here. I’m not even sure he’s coming back. Master Anthony gave her the opportunity to stay on as a staff slave, and she took it. But it had to be hard—being left behind like that. I feel sorry for her.”
“Wow,” Jaime replied, digesting this new information and the different light in which it cast Danielle in her mind. Though there was no getting around the fact that so far Danielle had acted like a bitch, Jaime couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.
“Now,” Lucia instructed. “Stop talking. I have to focus and I don’t want to nick you.”
“Yes, Mistress Lucia,” Jaime teased, but she shut her mouth.
Lucia worked quickly, first shaving Jaime’s armpits. Then she removed the bandages over Jaime’s heels. “This one is barely noticeable,” she said, nodding toward what little remained of the blister on Jaime’s right heel. “We can leave the bandage off that one, I think.” She quickly and expertly shaved Jaime’s legs and then her pubic area. She rinsed away the cream and patted Jaime dry. Next she massaged a soothing lotion that smelled appealingly of fresh grass and lemon peel over Jaime’s skin. Finally, she applied some ointment to an adhesive bandage and pressed it over the still-tender skin above Jaime’s left heel.
“Now your hair. I’ll do a French braid, like yesterday. You’re to wear it up this morning for the rope work.”
A thrill of nervous anticipation shot through Jaime’s gut as she climbed out of the tub and moved toward the counter. She hung her towel and ran her fingers through her damp hair. Master Lawrence had informed her the first session of her morning would involve Shibari bondage training, and, while Jaime loved to be bound, she was aware Shibari could be a very intense sort of bondage, the kind that rendered you completely immobile in potentially painful positions.
Lucia appeared behind her a moment later. She brushed out Jaime’s hair and plaited it deftly into a smooth braid. Jaime regarded herself in the mirror as Lucia worked. The welts on her breasts had faded to pale pink lines. Her face looked pale. She wished she were permitted the use of makeup. As it was, there was no way to compete with the model-perfect Danielle.
Stop it, she admonished herself. There’s no competition. That’s not why you’re here.
The two girls went up the stairs to the kitchen. Master Mason sat at a small table, poring over what looked like a cookbook. He barely acknowledged them as they entered. Ashley was already in place at a counter with a peeler in hand, an apron covering most of her slight, naked form, a large bowl of potatoes in front of her.
Lucia pointed toward a huge, stainless steel coffeemaker that contained a large carafe. “Coffee. Muffins. Bacon. Fruit.” Beside the coffeepot there was a large basket with a gingham dishtowel over it. Next to that was a platter of fried bacon, and beside that a big ceramic bowl filled with plump, fresh berries. “Juice and yogurt are in the refrigerator. There’s bread for toast, if you want it. We get our own breakfast in the mornings. Get what you want, and you can eat there.” Lucia pointed toward the table where Master Mason sat. “Or you can take it outside to the veranda, if you want.” Lucia glanced at the clock. “You have fifteen minutes.”
Jaime nodded and smiled her thanks. She poured herself a cup of coffee, adding cream and sugar. She selected one of the still-warm muffins from the basket, and added a few fresh berries to her plate. She stood uncertainly a moment, wondering if she should venture out to the veranda or sit at the small table where Lucia now sat eating a cup of yogurt and fruit beside the still engrossed Master Mason.
Who was she kidding? There was no contest. The last time she’d been on that veranda, a gorgeous Dom had held her in his arms. She moved through the spotless mudroom and managed to open and then close the back door while juggling her plate and coffee mug.
Her heart leaped with excitement when she saw Master Mark’s mop of curly hair and broad back at one of the tables. Down, girl, she admonished herself. Master Anthony was also seated at the table, facing her direction. As she approached, he looked up and smiled. Lifting his hand, he beckoned her forward. “Good morning, slave Jaime. How was your first night?”
“Good morning, Sir,” Jaime said, approaching their table with her breakfast. It still felt strange to be naked in front of these fully clothed men. “I slept well, thank you.”
Master Mark turned as she walked toward them, his gaze sweeping in a slow, sensual caress over her body that made her feel flushed. “Good morning, Master Mark,” she managed, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nerves, or her desire.
“Good morning, Jaime. Sit down and join us. Once you’ve eaten, we’re ready to begin the morning session.”
Excited at the prospect of training directly with Master Anthony and Master Mark, Jaime sat at the table, wondering if she’d be able to get down a bite of food.
A swish of shiny blond hair in her peripheral vision made her turn. Danielle was in the outdoor dungeon, balanced astride a wooden sawhorse. Her arms were bound together at the wrist and suspended from one of the beams in the overhead awning. She was blindfolded, her face a grimace of pain, her slim, muscular legs trembling from the effort of holding herself in place. In spite of her dislike for the girl, Jaime’s fists clenched and she couldn’t suppress the gasp of sympathy. All Danielle’s weight must be focused on her cunt, and it must hurt like hell.
Following her gaze, Master Anthon
y said calmly, “Slave Danielle is being punished for a transgression. The punishment will be over soon. As soon as you finish your breakfast, in fact. Then we will begin the session.”
Jaime looked away. She forced herself to take several bites of the muffin and to eat the berries, chewing as quickly as she could to end Danielle’s obvious torment. She slurped her coffee and set down the mug. “Finished, Sir,” she said breathlessly.
Master Mark laughed and shook his head. “Maybe we need to work on remembering to chew next time. Are you that eager to be bound, slave Jaime?”
“Or is it that you find it difficult to watch another sub being punished?” Master Anthony asked, fixing her with his discerning gaze.
Jaime nodded. “It does look very painful, Sir.”
“That’s the point,” Master Anthony replied. “From now on slave Danielle will think twice, I hope, before handing out the wrong size hiking boots.”
His words hit Jaime like a blow to the gut. Danielle was being punished because of her.
Master Mark touched her shoulder. “It’s time for a lesson in Shibari.”
The two men stood, and Jaime rose as well. She glanced at her plate. “Leave everything on the table,” Master Anthony said. “It will be cleared away during chores. Come over to the dungeon and kneel quietly while we take Danielle off the horse.”
Jaime followed the men to the space. She knelt to one side, noting the dozen or so coils of red and white rope set along the perimeter of the mat. She watched as the two men removed Danielle’s blindfold, released her arms and lifted her from the sawhorse.
Once she was settled on the mat, Master Mark rubbed salve onto the girl’s mons and labia, and Danielle moaned softly, whether from pain or lust, it wasn’t clear. Jaime’s pussy tingled as she imagined his touch. It would almost have been worth it to feel the cut of hard wood between her labia, if she got to feel his soothing, sensual touch afterward.
Danielle seemed to agree. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you, Master Mark,” she murmured breathlessly, batting her big blue eyes. Jaime tried to push her uncharitable thoughts aside. After all, Danielle’s Master had abandoned her. That had to be horribly humiliating. Beyond that, the poor girl might have had her heart broken.
Finally Danielle was settled in position beside Jaime. As the men moved the sawhorse out of the way, Danielle shot Jaime a venomous look. “Bitch,” she hissed in a whisper. “Tattletale.”
No! I didn’t—” Jaime began, but was silenced by Master Anthony’s stern look. Slaves did not speak unless spoken to. She pressed her lips together, her sympathy for Danielle’s suffering and situation obliterated by the unjust accusation.
The two men returned to stand in front of the kneeling slave girls. “Slave Jaime,” Master Anthony said, “what do you know about Shibari?”
“I know it’s a kind of very intense bondage, Sir, and that it originated in Japan.”
“That’s correct. It literally means to bind. There’s another term, Kinbaku, a term used interchangeably, that means tight binding. The emphasis isn’t on the binding itself, the bondage, but more on the relationship between the one binding and the one being bound. It’s a path, if you will, an extension between the two, that creates a special kind of intimacy.”
Master Mark had picked up one of the coils and let it unwind. He ran his fingers sensually along the rope. “When practiced correctly,” Master Anthony continued, “it’s not just about techniques and knots. It’s a full involvement of the spirit, the mind and the heart. All the senses are engaged.”
Master Mark lifted the rope to his face and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing. “Yes,” Master Anthony continued softly, watching the other man, “in this silken rope you can smell the heady scent of bondage, of submission, of suffering, of ecstasy.” Jaime stared, mesmerized by the sensuality of Master Mark’s actions.
Master Anthony finally broke the mood as he bent and retrieved a second coil of rope. “Mark, do you wish to work with slave Danielle or slave Jaime?”
“Since slave Danielle already has experience with Shibari, I’ll work with the trainee this morning,” Master Mark replied.
It took every ounce of willpower not to flash a satisfied smirk in Danielle’s direction. Instead, Jaime fixed her gaze on the tatami, though she couldn’t completely control the smile that played on her lips.
“As we move through this exercise,” Master Mark said, “it’s important to stay very aware and connected, because this type of bondage can trigger powerful emotional reactions. The positions and pressure inflicted by the ropes are not always easy to manage or endure and are sometimes quite painful. What I want you to do is focus on eroticizing the sensations. Use your breathing to flow with the pain. Embrace the loss of control, let the bondage empower you. Let it set you free.”
“Beautifully said, Mark,” Master Anthony said quietly, voicing Jaime’s unspoken thought.
Master Mark turned his gaze to her. “Do you have any questions before we begin?”
“No, Sir,” Jaime replied, her heart’s tempo increasing.
“And you, slave Danielle,” Master Anthony said. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes, Sir. Always, Sir,” Danielle breathed, her expression the very picture of earnest, eager submission.
“Okay,” Master Mark said. “We’ll start by binding your arms behind your back. Remember, this isn’t just about bondage. Let all your senses engage. Give yourself fully to the process. ”
The two men moved behind them. Jaime focused on the sensation of the strong, silky rope being wrapped and looped around her upper arms. As it tightened against her skin, she could feel Master Mark’s warm breath on the back of her neck. The second rope crossed her upper torso and back. As he worked, his strong hands stroked her body with a sure, sensual touch. Waves of pleasure rolled in a shiver of sensation over her skin.
The men moved around them, crouching, reaching, shifting, bending, Master Anthony murmuring softly to Master Mark as they worked. Master Mark wrapped Jaime’s breasts in beautiful but painful patterns, the bonds cutting into her flesh and turning it purple.
As she was increasingly immobilized in her bonds, Jaime began to slip into that dark, delicious subspace where she could and would take whatever her Dom cared to give her. She was poised, ready to soar on powerful wings of pure release.
“Open your eyes,” Master Mark commanded. Jaime forced herself to obey. She inhaled but forgot to exhale as she stared into his fathomless gaze.
He reached suddenly, grasping her by the throat, his face inches from hers. “Breathe,” he murmured, his voice throaty. “You belong to me now. The ropes are an extension of my hands, and of your grace. Prepare to offer yourself fully now, heart, body and spirit.”
A long, deep shudder moved through Jaime’s core. She sighed her agreement, letting the stale air at last escape from her lungs. He let her go.
She became aware of more ropes being attached to the bonds that crisscrossed her upper body. The ropes were pulled taut, forcing her upward until only her knees were touching the tatami. Danielle was being tethered in kind. The men worked in tandem, standing on stepstools to secure the ropes to the wooden beams overhead.
All at once she was hoisted into the air and then, before she could think or react in any way, her legs were pulled from beneath her, her equilibrium turned topsy-turvy, everything happening so quickly she didn’t even have time to gasp. She was upside down, the blood rushing to her head. Every muscle, every joint, every fiber of her being was alive and screaming. The tension of the ropes tight against her skin took her breath away. She felt hands moving over her, stroking, touching, soothing, igniting.
“Beautiful. She is a natural.” It was a man’s voice, but she could no longer tell who was speaking. She drifted in the deep, utter purity of subspace, the pain still very much there, but welcome. She opened the arms of her heart to embrace it, the knees of her soul bowing in pure submission.
When next she opened her eyes, she was sitting on the tatami m
at, leaning back into a strong, safe embrace. A profound peace pervaded her being; a serenity the likes of which she’d never experienced in her life. As she became more fully conscious, she strived to hold the feeling, to keep it close, to imprint it in her mind and heart so she could take it out later and relive it, treasure it, breathe it, keep it safe and secret somewhere deep inside.
Chapter 9
Jaime felt the push of Master Mark’s hard cock and then the flood of warmth and welcome as he entered her. She moaned her approval. He pressed her against the mattress as he moved inside her. His fingers tightened on her wrists as he stretched her arms over her head. “You’re mine, Jaime. You’ve always been mine. You were born with my name under your tongue. Say it. Say my name.”
“Master Mark,” she murmured dreamily, arching up to take him deeper. “Master Mark, Master Mark, Master Mark.” He moved inside her, bringing her close, closer—
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
The light burned through Jaime’s eyelids. No. No. Not yet. Please. Don’t go.
Master Mark slid from her, his image turning filmy and ghostlike, his face dissolving beneath the glare of the overhead light. Jaime opened her eyes.
Katie was smiling at her from the doorway. The smile edged into a frown as her gaze moved down Jaime’s body. “What are you doing there?”
Jaime jolted fully awake. Her cuffed hands were wedged between her legs, two fingers still pressed into the stickiness of her wet dream. Luckily, the coverlet was over her body, hiding, or at least obscuring, what she’d been doing in her sleep. Heat warming her cheeks, she jerked her hands away. “Oh! I didn’t mean—”
“Never mind that,” Katie interrupted. Her eyes darted from Jaime to the webcam and back to Jaime, and Jaime understood. She flashed Katie a grateful look as she sat up. She worked the clips on her cuffs as Katie continued, “It’s Monday, and Monday is our heavy duty cleaning day. You’ll be on bathroom patrol, lucky you.” She flashed a sympathetic grin. “The silver lining is you get to work with Master Anthony this afternoon.”
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