At His Mercy (Masters Club 1)

No one but Brenda had really been aware of her departure, the other associates busy on the phone, out with clients, bent over contracts or ensconced in meetings. She’d been vague as to her reason for leaving early, not wanting to add more grist to the office gossip mill.

When she entered the foyer of her building, the uniformed guard, Stanley, looked up from his laptop screen. “Something came for you, Ms. Cooper. It was delivered by courier about an hour ago. I didn’t want to cram it into your mailbox because it looks fancy. I kept it for you.” Reaching beneath the small counter, he produced a large cream-colored envelope.

Jess’s heart instantly began to pound. This must be the mysterious invitation Mr. Lord had alluded to. That bizarre meeting this morning in his office had left her completely off-kilter. He’d been dressed in his usual snowy-white shirt with a perfectly knotted tie, gold cufflinks at his wrists. But she’d kept flashing to the night before, when he’d been all in black, his pants a smooth, satiny leather.

While he’d been as cool, calm and collected as always during their brief meeting, she thought she sensed a darker aspect lurking beneath, something sexy, edgy and possibly dangerous. The invitation had to be something to do with last night. Clearly, it was of a personal nature, since he’d informed her they wouldn’t be discussing it at the office.

A thrilling spark of delicious fear shot through her at the thought of submitting to such an exacting man. Would he be as skilled with a whip as he was with a pen? Would she actually get the chance to find out?

Stanley was staring at her with a bemused expression, clearly waiting for her to accept the envelope.

She reached out quickly to take it from him. Her name was written on the front in calligraphic script, using gold ink. There was no return name or address to identify the sender. The back flap of the envelope had been sealed with an actual blob of gold-colored wax. She looked closer at the seal, making out the letters MC.

MC?

She noticed Stanley was still regarding her with curiosity, perhaps expecting her to open it then and there. More likely, he was waiting for a tip. She pulled a five from her purse and flashed him a smile. “Thanks, Stanley.”

The bill disappeared into his pocket. “Most welcome, Ms. Cooper.”

As she waited for the elevator, she slipped her finger under the wax seal, breaking it. When the elevator doors opened, there were already several people inside, coming up from the underground parking garage. She resisted the temptation to read the contents of the envelope immediately, instead slipping it into the outer pocket of her briefcase for the ride to her floor.

Once in her apartment, she dropped her bags just inside the door. Pulling the envelope from her briefcase, she moved to the couch and plopped down, simultaneously kicking off her shoes.

She pulled out a single piece of heavy card stock, like a wedding invitation. At the top were the words Masters Club, printed in shiny, engraved black letters. Just beneath, it read:

The Masters Club is a private, members-only BDSM club with locations around the world. Everyone associated with the enterprise is experienced in impact play, bondage and discipline. Our membership is comprised of Doms, pleasure submissives, service submissives and 24/7 staff slaves. You have been identified as a potential recruit and are hereby invited to audition for membership as a pleasure submissive at the Masters Club.

Pleasure subs serve at the pleasure of all dominant members of the Masters Club, with a focus on BDSM and sexual play. While limits are respected, and use of a safeword is permissible if deemed absolutely necessary, pleasure subs are expected to submit at all times with grace and obedience.

To learn more about the audition process, you will first need to review and sign the legally-binding non-disclosure agreement located at our secure online site. You will find the link, as well as your one-time access code and temporary password, below.

If you choose to decline, you may simply ignore this invitation. It will not be extended again.

Jess stared at the card clutched in her hand, her mouth hanging open. Was this for real? Her brain staggered as it tried to process the implications of what she’d just read.

Mr. Lord wasn’t just into the scene. He was way, way into it.

She read the invitation a second time and then a third.

“A pleasure sub at the Masters Club,” she murmured. “That sounds sexy as hell.”

Jess had been haunting the New York area BDSM clubs since her NYU days. How come she’d never heard of this place, not once?

Getting to her feet, she retrieved her laptop from her briefcase and booted it up. She did a quick search of Masters Club Manhattan. She found lots of listings that included those words in various combinations with various modifiers, but nothing that hinted at BDSM. She widened the search to worldwide, but still nothing came up. That must be some doozy of a non-disclosure agreement for there to be zero footprint on the internet. These people clearly valued their privacy.