At His Mercy (Masters Club 1)

Not every applicant made it this far. But the real test was yet to come.

“You’re doing reasonably well to this point,” Stephen intoned, which for the taciturn man was high praise indeed. “Now, we’re going to test your ability to handle erotic pain with grace and fortitude. This is essential if you are to join our club.

“We will use various impact toys, at our discretion. You may cry out if necessary but you may not ask us to stop. We will decide when you’ve had enough. The club safeword phrase is red light. Basic, but universally understood. If you feel unable to speak, you may open and close your right hand, again a universal distress sign. You may use the safeword if absolutely necessary. Of course, all action ceases at that moment.” He waited a ponderous beat before concluding, “While you always have the option of using the safeword, I would caution you to use it only as a last resort. If we subsequently determine you stopped the scene without cause, it will weigh into our decision. Hopefully, we are experienced enough to take you to the edge without pushing you to that last resort. Do you understand what’s expected of you?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jess replied on a shuddery breath, some of her poise apparently slipping.

Stephen rose to his feet. “Stand directly beneath the suspension rack and face the mirror. Lift your arms so we may secure your wrists.”

Cameron’s erect cock twitched, his balls tightening with lust and anticipation. Jess stood tall, wrists crossed over her head, her round, lovely breasts lifted by her position so the rosy pink nipples pointed upward. Her stomach was flat, her cunt shaven smooth. Her skin looked creamy soft and his fingers itched to run along her flanks and cup those sweet breasts.

Putting their professional relationship aside, he desperately wanted her to succeed. He wanted to taste the fruits of her submission. And really, this was the best possible way for him to scene with her, as it could all be kept at arm’s length. Even if he did end up mentoring her, it was a duty with no strings, no expectations, no commitments. In a word, perfect for a man like him.

While Stephen went to the toy rack to select his implement, William stood and moved toward Jess. Reaching up, he pulled one of her arms taut and closed a cuff around her slender wrist. Well over six feet, he didn’t need to use the stepstool that was available for the purpose. He secured the second wrist and adjusted the chains until she was forced onto the balls of her feet, her heels off the ground.

She stood now in profile to him, and Cameron could see the trepidation in her expression, but also the anticipation. Though he approached it from the opposite side of the spectrum, he understood the submissive’s need for erotic pain, despite how intense or difficult it might be. It wasn’t just a turn-on for those hardwired as he and Jess were. It was a requirement.

Stephen, the most sadistic of the three judges testing Jess, returned with a cane. While Cameron preferred to take a sub gradually into various levels of erotic pain, Stephen’s approach was to cut directly to the chase. For purposes of the interview, his method was the most effective at weeding out the applicants who didn’t have what it took to become a Masters Club submissive. The ability to withstand intense erotic pain was an essential, as important as a sub’s grace and obedience.

“We begin,” Stephen said from behind Jess.

He started with light, snapping flicks of the tip of the cane over her ass. She winced a little at first, but soon adapted to the steady, flicking rhythm. Then, his eyes glittering with power, Stephen pulled back his arm and snapped his wrist, causing the cane to land with a whistling thwack against both ass cheeks at once.

Jess gave a startled, anguished cry.

Cameron leaned closer, his fingertips tingling with the need to stroke away her pain. While Stephen was skilled in his delivery, he lacked finesse. Cameron’s palms itched with the desire to wield the cane himself. He should be the one to take her through her paces.

Stephen struck again, this time across the backs of her thighs. Jess drew in a sharp breath, though she managed not to cry out this time.

With each stinging stroke of the rattan, Jess jerked forward. There were tears in her eyes, her face twisted with pain. Her hands had clenched into fists above the cuffs.

Breathe, Cameron wanted to remind her. Flow with the pain.

Stephen was giving her too much, too fast. Jess had to find a way to deal with it, or all bets were off. If she couldn’t handle an intense caning, she wouldn’t last a week at Masters Club.