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  “Yes. With a trainer.”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Can you imagine yourself in such a scenario? Living the lifestyle 24/7? Sleeping bound in chains, your every move dictated by another? Your body, heart and soul the possession of a Master who wouldn’t hesitate to take what he wanted, but also to give you what you need, what you crave, what you were born for?”

  “Oh my god,” Jaime whispered, at once shocked and thrilled to her bones by his words. Again she met his gaze. He was staring at her, his expression almost ferocious in its intensity. She found herself falling into those dark, liquid eyes.

  “Answer me. I need to hear you say it—to admit who and what you are, slave girl.”

  Jaime swallowed hard. “Yes,” she finally said, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat. “Yes, Sir. I can imagine it. I have imagined it.”

  “When you’re alone, naked on the bed, your hand between your legs.”

  “Yes.” Her blush confirmed her admission. “Like O,” she added, certain he would get the reference.

  “Like O,” Anthony repeated. “While other girls were reading teen magazines and romances, you found The Story of O, and it was like a homecoming.”

  “Yes,” she breathed. Oh god, yes.

  “You devoured the descriptions of O’s complete sexual subjugation, her erotic humiliation, the willful debasement and her joyous acceptance of her servitude. You dreamed of being completely owned by another.”

  “‘Your hands are not your own,’” Jaime quoted. “‘Neither your breasts, nor, above all, is any orifice of your body, which we are at liberty to explore and into which we may, whenever we so please, introduce ourselves.’”

  “Precisely!” Anthony said, the word exploding into the room and startling Jaime, who had fallen headlong into the pages of O, many tracts of which she could quote verbatim from having read them so many times over the years. “I knew it,” he continued, excitement in his tone as he rose to his feet. “You were born for this. Please stand up and remove all your clothes.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “You didn’t hear me?”

  “I heard you. I was just—”

  “Then obey.”

  Jaime hesitated, aware this was a pivotal moment, aware she was making a decision before even being entirely certain of what was being decided. Rising to her feet, Jaime reached for the leather ties that held the front of her vest closed. She was braless beneath it, and the cool air moved over her bare breasts and erect nipples as she let the vest fall. Her eyes on his, she pulled her panties down her thighs and kicked them aside. She was proud of her body, and yet oddly shy in front of this enigmatic stranger—this stranger who seemed already to know her from the inside out.

  “Feet shoulder-width apart, hands behind your head,” Anthony instructed, moving closer.

  Jaime assumed the position, an ache now throbbing between her legs. Anthony lifted his hand. Before she realized what was happening, he slapped her face twice, once on each cheek, the crack of his hard palm reverberating in the small room, followed by Jaime’s startled cry. Instinctively, she brought her hands to her face, pressing them against her hot cheeks. Every nerve of her body was screaming as her mind struggled to catch up.

  “Hands behind your head,” Anthony said calmly, as if he hadn’t just struck her. “I didn’t tell you to fall out of position.”

  “But—but you—”

  “I struck you, yes. And while you are protesting with your words, your naked need for what I offer is betrayed in your every move, the dilation of your pupils, the parting of your lips, the way your body leans toward me.”

  Jaime stared mutely at him, unable to deny his words. “Now,” the Master said, “assume the position once more, hands behind your head. This time show some control.”

  Jaime, her cheeks still hot from his palm, did as he commanded. Without asking, Anthony placed his hand between her legs, a single digit pressing into the wetness.

  Unable to help herself, Jaime groaned, her hips moving wantonly forward to take more of him inside her. “You are pure potential,” Anthony murmured, his warm breath on her cheek. “Not spoiled by poor training and bad habits. You are waiting to be taken, controlled, molded into submissive perfection. You are just what we need at The Enclave.” He moved his finger inside her as he spoke, making it difficult to concentrate on his words.

  “We?” she managed to gasp just as he touched something inside her that made her jerk forward and then back. He inserted a second finger, the palm of his hand grinding against her throbbing clit. No one had ever touched her like this. It was perfect, almost too perfect, but only almost.

  “Fuck,” she breathed, only aware she’d spoken after the fact.

  He slapped her again, even harder than the first time. Again Jaime cried out, the pain radiating in perfect juxtaposition to the dark magic he continued to work at her cunt, though somehow she managed to keep her hands locked behind her head. “Mind your language. A slave girl doesn’t need to resort to such vulgarities.” His voice remained soft but she could feel the steel beneath it. “One more outburst like that and I’ll have to gag you.”

  Another O quote slipped into the jumble of her thoughts. “The gag stifles all screams and eliminates all but the most violent moans, while allowing tears to flow without constraint. There was no question of using it that night. On the contrary, they wanted to hear her scream.”

  She’d had a question—something he’d said, something she needed to explore, to understand, but his touch was too perfect, too intense. “Spread your legs farther,” he ordered. She obeyed. He moved his fingers roughly in and against her, the intensity nearly more than she could bear. She began to pant. He lifted his other hand again and she flinched, expecting him to slap her face, but instead, he reached for her left nipple and gave it a sharp twist.

  She yelped in pain, the nipple throbbing and engorged. He reached for the other nipple, twisting it just as roughly, all the while stroking her cunt until she began to shake. “Oh god, oh f—” She caught herself in time.

  Anthony’s free hand circled her throat, his finger and thumb pressing hard just beneath the jawline, completely cutting off her ability to breathe. “You already belong to me, don’t you?” he murmured, his face so close she could have kissed him, if she had been able to move.

  Unable to respond, she could only blink her eyes in urgent agreement.

  His lips lifted in a slow, sensual smile, perfectly complementing the sadistic glint in his dark eyes as he took over her body and her will. “Come for me, slave. Now.”

  He released his chokehold and Jaime staggered back a step, held upright only by his hand buried deep in her sex. She inhaled in a shuddering gasp of release as she tumbled headlong into the most powerful orgasm of her life at the hands of this stranger, a stranger she felt she’d known all her life.

  Jaime was seated on the sofa, a glass of cold, crisp white wine in her hand, a short silk kimono provided by Anthony around her shoulders. She was a little vague on the time between the endless orgasm, during which she’d traveled somewhere outside her body, into a place as close to Nirvana as she could envision, and now. As her thoughts cleared and her brain clicked back on, a tingling sense of excited anticipation began to take over. If that was the intro, what was next?

  Anthony sat across from her, his intent gaze fixed on her once more. “You’ve proven yourself a good candidate for what I have to offer. I ask that you permit me to explain fully without interruption. Then, of course, you may ask whatever you like.”

  Jaime nodded, her brain already teeming with questions. “Okay.”

  “I am a member of a BDSM community called The Enclave. The Enclave is comprised of a group of serious-minded people dedicated to the art and passion of BDSM as a 24/7 lifestyle. We have a compound up in the Blue Ridge Mountains on a large tract of land that affords us complete privacy. Eight Dominants currently live at The Enclave, myself included. We have a full-time slave staff of four women an
d two men at present.”

  “Slave staff?” Jaime blurted, then bit her lip. Anthony gave a brief nod and, though it was unspoken, she felt his displeasure at the interruption.

  “Slave staff,” he repeated. “We’re a relatively new community—we only cemented this formal alliance about two years ago, and we’re taking our time in recruiting staff as we refine our expectations. Slaves are carefully chosen, based not so much on their current level of training, but rather on an aptitude, if you will. A willingness to learn, an ability, a need, to submit with every particle of their being.”

  “Ooh,” Jaime moaned, enthralled, the word pulled from her before she could stop it. Anthony paused, regarding her, and she stiffened, expecting a rebuke.

  But he said nothing, offering only the ghost of a smile as he continued. “Each potential candidate, once they’ve passed the necessary medical and health qualifications, along with a criminal background check, is invited to spend two weeks at The Enclave, a trial period, during which we assess their potential as a full-time staff slave. They undergo rigorous, full-immersion indoctrination—everything from positions training, endurance training, as well as intensive discipline and pain work. There is also basic service, which includes attending to the physical and sexual needs of the Masters and Mistresses, as well as full upkeep of the house. In a word, staff slaves belong to us in every possible context. They serve at our pleasure and suffer at our discretion.”

  He paused a moment, the laser beam of his gaze directly entering Jaime’s soul. She realized her mouth had fallen open and ordered it to close. What this man was describing was surely the stuff of erotic fiction, and yet he seemed utterly sincere. Could such a place really exist, and right here in North Carolina?

  Anthony continued. “If you come to us as a candidate, you will sign an initial contract that stipulates your agreement to give up all rights to your body and your actions while at The Enclave. You will agree to undergo the training we provide and promise to obey our every dictate and whim. You will be subjected to whippings, caning, needle play, bondage, sexual torture, deprivation and sexual pleasure the likes and intensity of which I am certain you have never experienced in your life. The training is constant and rigorous, but if it’s something you want, something you were born to be, you will welcome the challenge. You will fail, over and over, but you will be given every chance to try again and again and again until you get it right.

  “We are sensual sadists, yes, but we do not inflict pain for its sake. Rather, pain is used both as a reward for the true masochist, and as a punishment, when warranted, to teach and reinforce the lesson. If, at the end of the two weeks, both you and we agree it is a good fit, you will be invited to join our community.”

  “What if I can’t get it right? What if it’s all too much for me to handle?” Jaime asked, intimidated by his promise she would fail again and again.

  “If by that you mean that you determine the training, the total-immersion slavery program isn’t for you, you will be free to leave. The contract between us will be severed at that moment, and you will be returned to your former life. No hard feelings between us, hopefully, but you would have no further contact with The Enclave.”

  “Oh,” Jaime said softly, feeling suddenly bereft of something she had yet to even experience.

  “I think you have what it takes, or I wouldn’t be making this offer.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” Jaime said, warmed by his praise, though not entirely convinced.

  “That said, it’s a big commitment, not only of service and dedication, but of your time. With that in mind, training candidates receive ten thousand dollars in advance as compensation for the two weeks of service. We recognize you have expenses and needs in the outside world to which you must attend. Whether or not you are invited to join the staff at the end of the two weeks, that money is yours to keep.”

  Ten thousand dollars! That sure would go a long way to covering her past due rent and car payments, not to mention paying off her credit card. Even more astounding, imagine being paid for the training chance of a lifetime!

  “I can see your mind working.” Anthony interrupted her thoughts. “I’ve just scratched the surface of the experience, but what do you think so far?”

  “Is this real?” Jaime blurted. “This place you’re describing—it’s real? It really exists?”

  Anthony smiled. “Oh yes, The Enclave is very real.”

  “How do people live there? I mean, is it an enclosed community—no one comes or goes? How do you support that lifestyle? How does that all work?”

  Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. “There’s time to answer all your questions, and more, if and when we agree you’re a fit for The Enclave. The first thing for you to consider right now is whether you’re interested in the training.” He leaned forward, fixing her with a serious look. “For obvious reasons, we highly value our privacy. Whether or not you sign up for the training, I ask that you don’t share anything about The Enclave or the people you may meet there with friends or family.”

  “I can’t just disappear off the grid for two weeks, can I?”

  Anthony shrugged. “We are located in the Blue Ridge Mountains. You can just say you’re taking a camping vacation, and that your Internet and phone access will be limited. It’s a detail, really, in the face of what I’m offering you.”

  Jaime nodded her agreement. It wasn’t like she lived with someone or even had family in the area.

  Jaime’s mind whirled with all she was hearing. The place sounded amazing—a Shangri La for those in the lifestyle. But was it something she wanted for herself? More to the point, was it something she could handle? Anthony seemed to have faith in her, but did she have it in herself?

  “So, what’s your initial impression, Jaime? Are you interested in moving forward? One of our members is a doctor. I can arrange a physical for you, including blood work, for this Sunday. Assuming you pass the physical and the background check, you could be at The Enclave by the end of the week. What do you think? Are you ready to embrace your dreams—to make them a reality?”

  Jaime swallowed hard. Her mind continued to leap and twirl in excited confusion. She shivered, Anthony’s offer touching something deep and essential at the core of her being. Would she be able to handle full-immersion training? He had promised she would fail, again and again. Could she handle that failure? But he’d also promised they would work with her, give her all the chances she needed to succeed, if that was what she truly wanted. Did she truly want it? She couldn’t deny the urgent longing his offer had ignited deep inside her. But did she have what it took to succeed? What better way to find out than to try? If she passed up this chance, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life.

  “Jaime.” Anthony’s voice, authoritative but gentle, cut through the tumult of her thoughts. “I want you to place your hands in your lap, fingers relaxed.” Jaime realized she was clutching herself, her fingers digging into her upper arms in a clenched, protective embrace. “Close your eyes and empty your mind of all the clutter. Breathe. Listen to your heart. To your instincts. Let them guide you in your decision. There is no right or wrong answer. There is only what is true for you, what is right for you.”

  Jaime made an effort to comply, willing her cramped fingers to release their death grip on her arms. She let her hands fall loosely into her lap and closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. As the chatter in her mind eventually subsided, a sweetly budding joy sprung from a deep, hidden place inside her that she’d never really permitted herself to explore.

  She didn’t only want what Anthony offered. She craved it. She needed it with every fiber of her being. She understood there was no right or wrong decision. In fact, there was no decision to be made. What was true had always been true. Only now she was being offered the chance to seize it.

  She opened her eyes and looked directly at Master Anthony.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said. “I accept.”

  Chapter 2


  The buzzing vibration of Jaime’s cell phoned dragged her unwillingly from sleep. Too bleary-eyed to see who it was, she took the call. She was greeted by the unwelcome voice of her latest boss, Junior (what grown man called himself Junior?), who managed the mall shoe store that was her latest attempt at paying the bills.

  “Janie,” he barked, though she’d politely corrected him at least half a dozen times in the three months she’d been working there, “Matt called out sick, and we’ve got the whole inventory thing going on and the kids’ sneaker sale starts today. I need you in here by eight o’clock.”

  She was on the schedule for the afternoon shift, and had already been dreading it. The job paid better than the last gig she’d had, but Junior was constantly changing up the schedule on her, and threatened darkly every time she balked that there were plenty of “honest, hardworking folks lined up behind you,” ready and willing to take her job if she had a problem.

  As she came more fully awake, the amazing events of the night before came pouring like sunlight into her consciousness, and she smiled in spite of the nasal voice buzzing like an annoying mosquito in her ear.

  Ten thousand dollars, paid in advance, hers to keep no matter what.

  It was so incredible. She almost felt she should be the one to pay the ten thousand to Anthony just for the chance to experience what he was offering. He’d given her his card before sending her home, as well as the address and phone number for the doctor’s office. “You’ll receive a text with your appointment time. It will be early Sunday morning when the office is closed to the public. If you have a change of heart between now and then, you can just text back that you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Janie? You there or what? I need your ass in here pronto.”

  “I’m sorry, Junior, I won’t be able to make it.”

  Junior was silent for a beat. “I don’t think you heard me correctly, Janie. That wasn’t a—”

  “Jaime.”

  “What?”