Read Slave To Love Online

Authors: Bridget Midway

Slave To Love (26 page)

She still didn’t trust him. Jace had to do more, give more. That idea felt foreign to him. He gave his full being to his business. When he had been involved in BDSM, he offered his whole self to the recipient of his discipline. Opening himself up again to a woman who would ridicule and judge him didn’t sit well with him.

Jace walked into the house that now had a full production staff milling about it. Great. His house no longer belonged to him. Why had he agreed to let Ananda film her show here?

Before he could be reprimanded, he put on his hood before continuing on to his room.

The same nervous production assistant ran through the kitchen area to greet him in the dungeon. “Breakfast will be served to you all in about an hour.”

“Served, as in—”

Soneni cut him off. “The house slaves.”

Jace raised his eyebrows. Good that Ananda had thought about getting house slaves.

“You need to get showered and dressed. It’s a big day today.” She pumped her small fists into the air.

“It is? Why is that?” Jace continued to the spare bedroom where he’d been assigned a bed…in his own damn house.

“We’ll do a reward challenge and an elimination challenge.”

Now the games began. Jace would have to enjoy the day. If Taren had told the truth, he would be gone after today. If that happened, he would be able to get some work done. For once, though, he wanted more. He wanted Taren.

Jace stepped into the room. He found Sire Swift still asleep. Lord No sat up on his side in bed reading a book. The bathroom door in their bedroom had been closed. From the sounds of the streaming water, the steam coming from under the door, and the fact that Fear’s bed remained empty and unmade, Jace assumed the man had to be in the room.

Jace sat on his bed. He peered up at No, who broke his attention away from his book to return his stare.

“You all right with the new mask?” Jace asked.

Lord No ran his hand over his disheveled hair and nodded. The show had given him something that looked like a black hockey mask.

“You still seeing that play bottom you stole from me?” Jace planted his elbows on his knees as he glared at No.

Lord No sat up in bed and stared back at him. After a beat, he shook his head. Then he held up two fingers.

“You had her for two years?” Jace asked.

No brought his two hands up and brought them together without touching.

“Shorter? Two months?”

Lord No closed the gap even more.

“Two weeks?”

Lord No shook his head.

“Hell, man, two minutes?”

Lord No laughed. When he did, Jace felt some of the uneasiness about their last encounter dissipating.

Jace stood and walked over to Lord No. Not to be outdone, Lord No also stood.

“Truce?” Jace held out his hand.

Lord No nodded and shook it.

“Good. Now will you shut up so I can get some sleep?” Swift turned over in bed.

“Nope. Full day, buddy.” Jace shook Swift’s shoulder. “Elimination day today.”

Fear opened the door. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. “Elimination day?” He sauntered to Jace and put his hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Good knowing you, man.” Then he laughed.

Jace wanted to refute the man’s teasing, but Taren had mentioned she would be letting him go first. Taren had been a woman of her word so far.

Once they all showered and dressed, Jace and the other contestants lined up in the hallway like students in elementary school. Jace decided to wear something casual today rather than the monkey suit they’d made him wear last night. In his standard jeans and T-shirt, he felt freer, looser.

“Can we get this going?” Jace glanced at his watch.

“Have somewhere to go?” Fear glared at him before he snickered. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

Asshole.

“Okay, folks. Follow me.” Soneni walked ahead of the group that didn’t stay in a single-file line. As soon as they could, they crowded around the assistant as she guided them to the dining room. “Have a seat.”

Jace started to sit at the head of the table.

“Not at the ends.” The assistant held up her hands, which stopped the movement. “Taren and Madame Macabre will be in those seats.”

Jace straightened and stared at Fear, who had also tried occupying the chair at the other end of the table. They each took a step to the side to claim chairs next to the end chairs. They sat down in unison.

“I’m starving.” Sire Swift reached for his glass of water. “Hope the food tastes as good as it smells.”

As though the man summoned them, a line of incredible-looking African-American women walked out of the kitchen, each carrying a dish or a pitcher. Jace couldn’t stop looking at them. No matter the length of their hair, they each had their hair combed back. They wore white tank tops and something that looked like white panties but seemed a little more substantial than undergarments. Until one stood next to him he hadn’t noticed that they didn’t have on shoes.

Kitty appeared by the table once the house slaves fell into place. “Okay, folks. We’re going to be rolling soon.” She clapped her hands and looked like a mad scientist with her black hair spiked.

“Good. We’re hungry.” Bruiser rubbed his hands together. “It would be nice if we could finally get into something.” He made his last statement while staring at a slave who glanced at him for moment, smiled, and turned away.

Kitty pivoted in her spot. “Bring them in.”

After a couple of minutes, Macabre sauntered in the room wearing a black leather tube dress that conformed to every curve of her body. She went to the end of the table where Fear sat. When Taren walked in, she glanced at Jace, then looked at the chair where Macabre now sat. She made it obvious she didn’t want to sit anywhere close to Jace.

“Do you need me in that seat down there?” Taren pointed to where Macabre sat.

“No. We’ve done the camera blocking at all angles.” Kitty nodded. “You’re good here.”

“Great.” Taren lowered herself to her seat, but kept her stare from Jace.

Jace leaned over close to her. Under his breath, he said, “I’ll try not to make this weird for you.”

“Too late.” Taren didn’t look at him when she made the statement.

“Okay, folks. Here’s what’s going to happen today.” Kitty sauntered around the table as she spoke. “The house slaves will serve you all breakfast. At the end of the meal, you all will select your personal slave.”

“Wait. We get to pick one of them to be at our beck and call?” Sire Ball started to smile.

“Yes, during filming. When we’re not filming, the slaves will go back to their rooms. Hopefully you all brought a collar for each of the slaves. You will own them during the show.”

All of the contestants nodded. Jace didn’t. He hadn’t planned on being a part of the show. He didn’t have anything ready. He would have to see if he had anything in the guesthouse that he could use.

“However, when Taren eliminates a Dominant, the slave is eliminated as well.” Kitty put her hands to her hips. “Any questions?”

“Can we just eat now?” Miss Twist fanned her face. “And get some air on in here.”

“Hit the switch to turn on the fan.” Jace pointed to a wall switch. When he noticed the contestants giving him a suspicious stare, he clarified his statement. “I tested it yesterday.”

Kitty hit the switch to start the large blades twirling. “Okay, let’s get this going, folks. We have a lot to do today.”

Jace thought the same thing. If he had any chance of making it beyond today in this contest, he needed to think of something quick.

 

****

 

Taren wanted to stay as far away from Jace as she could. As it stood, she knew she had no willpower around him. Everything about him weakened her. Today proved to be no exception. 

While everyone else, including the Dommes, continued wearing suits and ties, Jace opted to go with jeans and a T-shirt. His scent really captured her attention. She made the mistake of taking in a deep breath. Her whole head filled with his masculine aroma.

To take her mind off him, she looked at the contestants she’d picked for the show. In the bright light of day, she marveled at their appearances. Sire Swift looked like a military man. He had his dark hair cut short but not in a crew cut. He sat up straight.

Next to him sat Bruiser. She figured that out because of his dusty blue eyes and his goatee. Taren found him to be menacing and intense, even for as young as he looked.

Sire Ball sat next to Bruiser. She could tell that under his suit hid a fit body. He let his dark hair grow out a little. Like Bruiser, he also appeared solemn and hard.

At the end of the table near Macabre must have been Fear. When Taren dared to look at him, he glared at her as though nonverbally telling her to look elsewhere. Without him saying it, she did. Besides his dark skin, she noticed a goatee that blended in well to his tone. His eyes looked black as coal. As she thought about being disciplined by him, she shivered.

On the other side of Macabre sat Mistress Night. The woman had cornrows in perfect lines over her head. Today she wore glasses with her mask. Taren hadn’t suspected Night wore those when she had on her mask last night.

Next to her sat Miss Twist. She looked Hispanic. She had her dark hair parted in the middle. Her strong jaw gave her a hard look. Her makeup job softened the appearance.

The man in between Twist and Jace had to be Lord No. Instead of the shocking, high collar he wore last night, now they outfitted him with a mask that looked straight out of a horror movie. He still looked cold and aloof like he didn’t mind hurting for sport. Taren still didn’t want to mess with him. She did wonder if, out of the mask now, he would talk.

“And action!” Kitty exclaimed.

“Welcome, friends,” Madame Macabre smiled as she sat at the end of the table like a lady of the manor.

Thank God Taren didn’t sit next to the woman. She already felt childlike due to their height difference.

Taren moved her foot forward and made contact with Jace’s foot. She mumbled an apology and eased her foot back. He, on the other hand, must have seen this as an opening. She felt his foot brush against hers before he eventually eased his leg behind her feet. Taren would have to step over him in order to get up.

She would have complained if she didn’t like the connection so much. What turned her on and frustrated her at the same time had to be the way Jace didn’t even look at her while he invaded her space. Nonverbally he expressed how he would be there, in her face, and not backing down. Taren needed to drink some cool water after making that conclusion.

“Taren?”

Hearing her voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Yes?”

“What do you think?” Macabre asked while everyone looked at her.

“Think about what?” She glanced at Jace. “Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

He moved his leg, which raised her feet of the floor. Thank goodness the tablecloth hid his antics.

“Prayer before the meal.” Macabre nodded her head to the slaves who patiently held their dishes and drinks.

“Oh, my goodness. Yes, we can certainly do that.” She set her glass down, which forced Sweetheart to quickly refill it again.

“Yeah, why don’t we get our boy, Lord No, to give it,” Fear said with a chuckle.

No glared at Fear and gave him a middle-finger gesture.

“Actually, I would like to give it, if you don’t mind.” Sire Swift put his hands in prayer form and closed his eyes even before confirming if anyone else would do it.

Taren followed suit. With her eyes closed, she felt Jace moving his foot back and forth, and up and down the back of her calves before he eventually eased his foot in between her legs.

“Thank the Lord for the food we’re about to receive, and the blessings that will be bestowed upon us. In Jesus’s name, amen.”

Taren exhaled, but her mind wasn’t on the prayer. “Amen.” She opened her eyes and looked at Jace, who again had his attention elsewhere.

The man drove her insane.

“Ladies, please serve the Dominants first before you get to us.” Macabre waved her hand over the table to the contestants.

“Yes, ma’am,” Solo replied.

While some of the slaves served food like scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, gravy and potatoes, others like Sweetheart poured water, orange juice, and coffee. Taren couldn’t think about the food. Her mind remained on Jace, his agenda, and that wandering foot of his.

“To give you folks an idea of what will happen today, after breakfast you will get to select which slave you want to be your personal slave for this journey.” The slaves stood around the table, all with smiles, but all silent as Macabre spoke. “You will collar that slave.”

Taren noticed that Bubbles shifted in her spot. She looked uneasy with that bit of news.

“Once you all have selected your slaves, you will write up your contract.” Macabre placed her napkin across her lap.

“Contract?” Fear slumped back into his chair in frustration. “What the hell? Are we doing some damn book report? I just want to play with one of them until I can get to her.” He pointed to Taren. She must have looked worried. He quickly said, “Don’t worry, dear. Yes, it will hurt.”

Taren had to rethink her plan on who to eliminate first. Fear definitely lived up to his scene name.

“I don’t mind doing contracts.” Mistress Night shrugged. “Contracts allow you to be free because everyone involved knows what to expect.” She took a sip of her coffee.

Beauty quickly topped off her drink.

“Thank you.” Night winked to her.

“I’ve always done a contract.” Bruiser took no time in polishing off his plate of food and requesting more from the slaves. “Like Night said, it keeps everything on the up and up.”

Taren didn’t know where the man put all the food he consumed. He looked young and fit. When Breeze offered him more bacon, she noticed how he purposefully brushed his hand against hers. Her slight, Mona Lisa smile broadened as she stepped back.

“I find contracts restricting.” Miss Twist shook her head. “I should be able to do whatever I want with a slave.”

“What do you think, Master?” Sire Ball asked.

Taren wanted to hear Jace’s answer. She held her fork over her food as she directed her attention to him.

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