Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
A naked woman with long blond hair, her eyes closed, was suspended by her wrists from a restraint rack. Her feet barely touched the floor, which was covered in a plastic sheet. Blood trickled from small cuts on her breasts, belly and thighs. Droplets of bright red had splashed on the plastic sheeting at her feet. A burly man with a shaved head and a goatee was moving around her, a small scalpel in his hand.
They both looked familiar, though Damon couldn’t immediately place them. The woman opened her eyes as Damon softly cleared his throat. She murmured something inaudible to the guy, who looked up at Damon with a smile.
“Small world, yes?” the guy said to Damon in a German accent.
At the sound of the man’s voice, Damon suddenly recalled where he’d last seen this couple.
“You’re Master Wolf, is that right? We met in Berlin.”
“That’s right. And you are called…?” the man trailed off, clearly not remembering.
“Lord Demon,” Damon replied.
“Lord Demon, that’s right,” Master Wolf repeated with a nod. “You’re not the first Dark Club member we’ve run into during our travels. Do you live in Costa Rica?”
“Just visiting,” Damon said noncommittally. He lifted his chin toward the woman, whose name he couldn’t recall, if he’d ever known it. “That’s a pretty intense scene you’ve got going. I’ve always been curious about blood play.”
“Please, join us if you’d like,” Master Wolf said with a gracious wave of his hand. “Greta loves the intensity of this particular sort of edge play, don’t you, Liebling?”
“Ja, I do indeed,” she said somewhat breathlessly. “Please continue, mein Herr.”
Master Wolf laughed. “See? As I believe I told you when we last met—Greta is the one who’s really in charge. That’s as it should be at the core of any D/s relationship, don’t you agree? The sub must hold that final card—her safeword is sacrosanct.”
Maybe for players, Damon thought with an internal sneer. It takes a real Master to enslave and train a sub to understand there is no final card for her to play. Her Master’s word is law.
Aloud, he only said, “Of course.”
He stepped into the small room. He could smell the woman’s sweat, the slightly metallic scent of blood and the musk of her arousal. He couldn’t take his eyes off her bloodied body. The fact that she wanted what was happening made the experience a little less intense. If it had been against her will, the scene would have been a thousandfold hotter, but of course he kept this sentiment to himself.
It was still super exciting to watch as Master Wolf moved around the woman, drawing small, careful lines with his scalpel over her skin. The blood was such a vivid, bright red that it almost didn’t seem real. It beaded along the cuts like holly berries in the middle of winter. In spite of the consensual nature of the scene, Damon’s cock stiffened in his pants, his balls tingling.
Imagine if these two could see what a real slave looked like? Sure, Master Wolf gave lip service to all that consensual bullshit, but Damon wasn’t fooled. What man didn’t secretly crave total domination over a woman? Poor Wolf—he could only pretend to be in control, whereas Damon had made it a reality. Now that Callie had finally accepted her lot, there was nothing he couldn’t make her do.
It would be so fucking sweet to invite this pair back to his villa for a private scene. To show them how much more intense D/s could be without the safety net of consent.
Even as the idea occurred to him, he dismissed it. He’d gotten away with the arrangement so far, but it couldn’t last forever. Why tempt fate?
On the other hand, it would be so fucking hot and empowering to show them how far he could take his slave, now that she was properly trained. Callie wouldn’t dare to cross him. She knew what would happen if she did.
It was too bad he couldn’t keep her as his personal little cunt. He could take her back to Chicago and keep her sequestered in his penthouse. Even as he toyed with the idea, he rejected it. He’d known from the start this was a temporary thing. He’d already made contact with a guy on the Dark Web who was interested in buying trained sex slaves for a hefty fee, no questions asked. Damon stood to make a substantial profit on this whole deal, on top of the intense rush it had provided.
Too bad he couldn’t tell his fucking brothers about that. Damon Carlisle knew how to make money, not just spend it, no matter what they said. His ways were just a little less…conventional than his uptight, boring father and siblings.
But Master Wolf understood about intense BDSM. The guy would be awestruck by Callie’s total submission. To demonstrate his absolute control, Damon would make her do things that even Greta the pain slut wouldn’t try.