Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Wrong about what I wanted.
Wrong about who I was deep, deep inside.
After my little breakdown in the shower, I could almost convince myself that I was normal and dwelling in this depraved utopia—where slaves existed and Masters ruled—was the worst existence imaginable.
If it wasn’t for the fucking whisper saying I’d finally found where I belonged, I could almost pretend I was cured.
Clenching my teeth, I shut off my thoughts.
I was sick of thinking.
Tonight, I had a performance to play. Then, when everyone had crashed, I’d send Q my location and end this.
I’d end it before I chose it.
I didn’t move as Ily and the other jewels climbed the deck and entered the huge, open-sided gazebo that Victor’s staff had erected.
I’d missed lunch while I’d glued myself back together again, and Victor had called to insist I attend dinner as my money—Q’s money—had gone through. Apparently, I deserved to celebrate.
Ily’s gaze went round as she followed the others toward the centre of the gazebo. The Masters stayed where they were, lounging in chairs, nursing drinks while candles flickered on white-dressed tables and fairy lights dangled from the cloth ceiling. The air was heavy with flower perfumes and the scents of decadent food.
I stiffened as I looked at the stage in the middle.
A simple black podium with a rack full of every kinky toy imaginable. Whips, floggers, shackles, clamps, plugs, and chains.
My heart kicked into higher gear as the jewels stopped at the bottom of the stage.
Victor left his table and climbed onto the platform. He beamed. “Welcome, gentlemen. As you know, each night is a cause for celebration, and we definitely know how to celebrate, but tonight…we have two new reasons. You met them at the auction but allow me to formally introduce them.” Pointing at me, he bowed his chin. “First, let us welcome Henri Ward. A man who’s fast becoming a favourite project of mine and someone who I hope realises he’s amongst friends.”
I raised my wood-smoked bourbon, accepting his toast with a lazy smile. “Merci beaucoup.”
Victor grinned before his eyes darted to Ily.
She stood in the crush of slaves, body stiff and judging.
Unlike most of the day, when Masters paraded around the lush gardens with naked jewels crawling and chained, most of them now wore scraps of lingerie. A bustier here, a garter belt there. Nipples peaking from corsets and bare asses split with G-strings. The male jewels wore a combination of boxers, bowties, and flowing pants. The glimmer of golden cuffs and collars matched on all of them.
The electricity device sat heavily in my pocket.
I’d ensured I’d brought it with me, not to willingly hurt Ily but to have a method of control if she suddenly decided to go all vigilante and verbally abuse the dangerous creeps around us.
My gaze locked on the object of my obsession, drinking in the virginal white negligee. Her blue-black hair hung heavily to her shoulders while her wand tattoo poked between her shoulder blades with inky defiance.
“Secondly, we also have a new treasured jewel to fawn over.” Victor grinned. “You can look, gentlemen, but not touch. Not yet anyway.”
A round of groans echoed. “Give us a taste, Vic. Go on!”
Victor chuckled. “In a few days, my friends. Patience.”
Clapping his hands, servers began pouring into the gazebo from the other entrance. Plate after plate of restaurant quality cuisine, steaming and presented with exquisite presentation.
I leaned back as a woman in a neat black pinafore placed a dish in front of me. A tower of tempura fried vegetables stacked over a puree of something green with a moat of reddish ju. The sauce looked like coagulated blood, turning me queasy.
My stomach revolted and rumbled, disgusted and hungry in equal measure.
The three men at my long table toasted me. “Bon appétit.”
I nodded and sipped my drink, hoping the booze would settle my nerves.
“You’ve all received your starters,” Victor said. “So please, summon the jewel you would like to accompany you tonight, and the evening’s entertainment will begin.”
Hands shot into the air, fingers snapping with degrading authority. “Rachel, quickly!”
“Nancy, come here.”
“Gareth, on your knees. I’ve wanted your mouth all day.”
“Citra, here. Now.”
“Rebecca, bring a friend.”
“Kirk, show me that fine ass of yours.”
With dead eyes and shut-down expressions, collared men and women drifted toward different tables and Masters. A few more names and a few reluctant shuffles. The dense night air rippled with obedience before a scream suddenly rang out.
A male jewel plummeted to the floor, twitching and gasping, his entire body locked in a teeth-snapping convulsion.
“Told you to move faster, Toby. You didn’t.” A tall, thin man with silvered hair stood by his table, his thumb stabbing into a familiar black device.
I balled my hands under the table as the slave jerked with electrocution.
Other men chuckled and rolled their eyes, well used to seeing such brutal discipline.