Slave To Love (19 page)

Vern’s face split into a wide smile. “You. You could fill in.”

Jace shook his head. “Nope. It’s bad enough you all are using my house and I have to live out back like some lackey pool boy. I’m not going to be a part of this train wreck.” He turned to head back out to his space.

“Masks.”

Jace stopped before leaving the main house. He turned to Vern.

Vern took cautious steps toward Jace. “All the contestants have to wear masks. That was Ananda’s idea. Taren should want her Dominant for what he or she can do to her, not a look.”

Jace nodded. “Fine. That shields my identity. And then what?”

“The first episode, the sub has to do something like speed dating. The Dominants will come in to see her in pairs. After a brief interview, she’ll pick one to remain in the contest. Act like a bad enough asshole, you’ll be gone in the first show and no one will know who you are. What do you say?” Vern’s face started to become pale as he awaited Jace’s answer.

Jace knew the prospect would be risky. “If she does pick me, then what?”

Vern stared at Jace. “So you’re considering it?” His mouth dropped open and he started to smile. Then he stopped and shook his head. “No. What am I thinking? I can’t ask you to do this. You can’t participate in case she does pick you. Viewers will call foul if they know Eagan’s brother is in it. If you win, they’ll say the show is fixed. Ananda would have my head.”

Jace hadn’t thought about that angle. For that reason, he wanted to be in the show. He wouldn’t humiliate Taren. His actions would be against Ananda and Eagan. “Does Kitty know about me and Eagan?”

Vern cocked his head. “You didn’t tell her?”

“And if you want me on this show, you won’t say shit to her either.” He did his best to convince Vern to put him in the show. “Look, you need a body. I’m willing to step in. I will be difficult so that she doesn’t pick me.” Although he hoped beyond hope that Taren would select him if only to talk about what happened between them. He had to get close to her.

Vern cursed and looked around the room. “Okay, yeah. Until we can get someone else in.” He snapped his fingers at a group of ladies. “Get him into hair and makeup.” He took a step back and scanned Jace’s outfit. “Call wardrobe. I’ll get legal on the phone to draft up a contract.”

“Glad to help.” Jace’s decision had everything to do with him and nothing to do with assisting Vern or Ananda. He would play along until he could get to Taren.

“Good. And Jace?” Vern covered the mouthpiece on his phone as he looked at Jace. “You’ll have to stay in the spare bedroom with the other contestants. No exceptions.”

Damn. Jace would have to be clever to get to Taren.

Chapter Thirteen

Taren looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror in her room. The staff had done an amazing job of transforming her from a young woman who looked down to earth to some vixen, complete with a short white dress with a plunging neckline. The high heels she wore looked cute as long as she remained seated. If she had to walk anywhere, it would be trouble.

A soft knock sounded on her door before it opened. Kitty walked inside. She looked relaxed in her jeans and tank top, which showed off a myriad of colorful tattoos over her chest and arms.

“You ready?” Kitty stood behind Taren and looked at Taren’s reflection in the mirror.

“I think so. It’s all happening so fast.” Taren turned around on the bench she sat on to face Kitty.

“Ordinarily a shoot like this wouldn’t happen this quickly. But we have this place only for a short while so we can’t wait.” She glanced at her giant timepiece on her wrist. “You ready to start?”

Taren took a deep breath before she stood. “I’m ready.” She took one step and nearly toppled over.

Kitty held her arm to steady her. “Why don’t you take the shoes off and put them back on once you get downstairs?”

Taren nodded. “Thank you.” She brought each foot up to remove the skyscraper heels. “I don’t think I’ve ever walked in anything higher than four inches.”

“Don’t let the Dominants hear you say that. They love pushing your boundaries.” Kitty put her arm around Taren’s shoulders as she led her downstairs. “Today will be a complex kind of day. You’re going to meet all sixteen Doms and Dommes as well as the house slaves.”

Taren’s stomach had a spasm when she heard Kitty say
slave
. She had to face it. This would be her world from now on. Could she really handle that?

Once downstairs, Kitty brought her over to a statuesque woman who wore a floor-length cloak. She covered her back of her head with a hood. The way the person stood with her hip off to the side tipped Taren off that it had to be a woman.

“Madame Macabre, I’d like to introduce you to our submissive,” Kitty said from behind the woman.

She turned around. Taren didn’t expect to see an African-American woman staring at her. Her dark skin made her cherry red lipstick pop. She stared at Taren for a while before she spoke.

“Young.” She nodded. “Pretty.” She ran her gloved fingers down Taren’s bare arm. “She’ll mark up nicely during play.”

Taren recoiled from that comment.

“Easy.” Kitty shook her head. “Let the contestants do all the intimidating.” She turned to Taren. “Madame Macabre will be the host of
Slave to Love
. She’ll keep the action going. If you feel lost or have a question, don’t hesitate to ask me or her, got it?”

Unable to speak, Taren nodded.

“Good.” Kitty clapped her hands. “This first episode will be a doozey.”

“Really? How is that?” Taren followed Kitty to the dining room area where the long table only had four chairs. Two chairs at one end, and two chairs toward the other end of the table across from each other.

“You’re going to eliminate the contestants down to eight by the end of the day.” Kitty turned to address the crew.

“What?” Taren hadn’t expected to be a hatchet woman by the first episode.

“What’s wrong, little one?” Madame Macabre slinked into the room.

Until she’d gotten into a quieter room did Taren notice Macabre’s slight southern accent. Makeup people touched up Macabre’s lipstick, but she shooed them away.

“I don’t know these people. How am I going to know who to send away and who to keep?” Taren wiped her forehead, which caused a flurry of makeup folks to touch up her foundation again.

Macabre approached Taren and put her hand on Taren’s belly. “Trust your gut. Your instincts will never steer you wrong. You know what you like.”

Taren nodded. Knowing what she liked and knowing who to pick still didn’t seem like an easy choice. She would do what she could for the show.

“Okay, folks, first shot of the day. Let’s not fuck this up.” Kitty took her seat by the camera. “Let’s roll.”

Kitty waved her fingers in the air. Over a speaker system, a slowed down R&B version of the song “Slave to Love” played and filled the room. Taren’s legs shook, but she tried to look confident. She could do this. She could do this.

“Welcome to
Slave to Love
, the show where a submissive searches for her Dominant.” Madame Macabre released a loud laugh after her introduction. “My name is Madame Macabre. You all can call me Mackie.” She winked to the camera. “Here is our submissive who is ready to find her Dom or Domme.” She put her hand on Taren’s shoulder. “What shall we call you?”

Damn. Taren hadn’t thought about her name. Eagan had named all of his contestants on his show. She wouldn’t know what to call herself.

“Taren. That’s my name.” She wanted to go into this lifestyle honestly.

Macabre smiled and nodded. “Very well. The rules of this show are simple. You’ll have Doms and Dommes from the BDSM lifestyle all vying to dominate you.”

Taren swallowed.

“The catch is that you will decide who that will be. And you’ll get to pick from this group.” Macabre held up her hand, ushering in a long line of masked people of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Taren hadn’t been intimidated until she saw the masks. Some of them wore something that looked like Mardi Gras masks, colorful and feathery. Others wore black leather masks that look like an old school Batman cowl that only covered half of their faces. And a few wore full hoods. Those people scared her the most. She took deep breaths.

“Gentlemen and ladies, say hello to Taren.” Macabe held her hand up to show off Taren.

In a creepy, cultish way, they all said simultaneously, “Hello, Taren.”

Taren didn’t know if she should smile, scream, or faint.

“The winner of this show will have you as a submissive for one year. You two will have a year’s membership to the exclusive Club 4400 to play and explore. The lucky Dom or Domme who wins will also receive five million dollars.”

Taren didn’t know about that part of the prize. When she’d signed her contract, it stipulated that she would receive a million dollars as long as she successfully picked a Dom or Domme at the end of the show.

She noticed right away how the contestants nodded and stared at her. She would have swallowed again but her throat became dry.

“Knowing that, I think it’s time to begin. I will call you each in here two at a time. Miss Taren will interview you both. At the end of the five-minute interview, one of you will be eliminated from the contest.”

A grumbling sounded throughout the group.

Macabre stepped toward the group and held up her hands. “In real life, that’s what would happen. You would meet in a club. If she likes you, you go off and play. If she doesn’t, she moves on to a new person. It’s no different. However, the stakes are higher here, right?” She clapped twice. “Let us begin. I need those two.” She pointed to the two people at the end. “The rest of you can wait until you’re called.”

“And cut!” Kitty sprang from her chair. “Beautiful.” She pointed to Taren. “Your reaction shots are great.”

Taren smiled and felt her mouth twitch.

“Let’s get you two seated.” Kitty pointed to the chairs at the end of the table. Then she looked at the contestants left in the room. “You two, sit across from each other in those chairs.”

“Can I get some water?” Taren managed to squeak out the request.

“Yeah. Get her and Mackie some water. And get her a notebook and pen so she can take notes.” Kitty peered down at her. “Don’t worry. This will be fun.”

Fun. Not the word Taren would have used.

As soon as a glass of water had been poured for her, Taren picked it up with both hands and downed it quickly. The young man glanced at Taren then Kitty, who only nodded to replenish the glass. He poured another glass and left the frosty pitcher on the buffet next to the table. Taren had a feeling she would be downing the entire pitcher by the end of the day.

The two people sat at the opposite end of the table from her and Macabre. From what Taren could tell, one person looked like an African-American woman. She wore a long, black leather skirt, tall boots, a red leather corset that pushed her sizable breasts up to her chin, and a black-and-red mask surrounded with feathers. She had her long, dark hair in waves down past her shoulders. She looked ready to party.

The man sitting across from her looked tall and had a medium build. He wore a black mask that only covered half of his face. From what Taren could see of his face, he looked handsome. She saw his light brown eyes through the mask. She wished she could see his entire face.

“Are we all ready to roll again?” Kitty asked before she occupied her director’s seat.

Taren nodded. She opened her notebook and grabbed her pen. She didn’t know what she would do, but she had to be ready.

“Okay, action!”

“We have our first two contestants here.” Macabre pointed to the woman first. “Tell us your name.”

She glared at Taren. “For those who dare, I’m called Dominina Destruction.”

Oh, shit.
Taren wrote that in her notebook to describe Dominina. Why couldn’t they all be like Jace?

He’d been rough with her but fair. Taren had pushed him so that he could challenge her. Boy, did he, both in play, whether he wanted to or not, and sexually. Her body still ached from their sexual escapades earlier that morning.

Taren had to snap out of that memory and concentrate on the now. She had two people in front of her who wanted to dominate her, unlike Jace.

Dominina continued. “I have been in the lifestyle for twenty years, starting back when I was in high school.” She snickered. “When I say I fucked with the principal, I truly fucked with the principal.” She opened up her gloved hand. “I had him eating out of the palm of my hand.” She sat back. “I’m a hard Mistress. I demand only obedience, and I like to play often. The day you think you can take a break will be the day that I break you.”

Taren felt her bottom lip hanging open, but she couldn’t do anything about it as she stared at this beast at the end of the table.

“Thank you.” Macabre pointed to the man. “Introduce yourself.”

“I’m Sire Swift.” His voice sounded pleasant with his slight southern accent. “I’ve only been involved in the lifestyle for about ten years. I lived a pretty vanilla life before I came to terms with what I really wanted. I’m a hard Dom but I’m fair. I do enjoy all types of play. But once you’re mine, I like to brand you.” He slapped his hand over his shoulder. “A bold mark on your body that says you’re mine.”

Taren cleared her throat. “I’d like to ask some questions.”

Dominina sat up taller. “Did you give her permission to speak?” She directed her inquiry to Macabre.

“Taren is not owned by anyone right now. She’s allowed to speak freely during this interview phase.” Macabre patted Taren’s hand, which hadn’t stopped trembling since she’d come into the room.

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and turned her attention to the woman first. “Have you ever disciplined a woman?”

Dominina cocked her head. “Are you serious with that question? Of course I have. The true question is would
you
like to be dominated by a woman?”

Taren didn’t know how to answer that. As someone who hadn’t been dominated yet, she didn’t know what she wanted. She had seen some play but that didn’t constitute
all
play. She also bolted when she’d gotten too turned on by the action.