At His Mercy (Masters Club 1)

“Not at all,” Cleo assured her, tilting her head to appraise Jess. She picked up the small container of rouge and its brush applicator. “You just need a hint more rouge. Right…here.“ As she spoke, Cleo pulled the loosely tied robe open. Smiling, she brushed the dusky pink powder over Jess’s nipples.

Jess laughed nervously. “I feel like a harem girl being prepared for the sultan.”

“Even better, you’re a slave girl being prepared for her Master,” Cleo countered with a grin.

Jess shook her head. “Not a slave. I’m way too bossy and controlling for that,” she laughed.

“A submissive, then,” Cleo acquiesced. “A bossy, controlling, adorable sub girl about to be formally claimed by the previously unattainable and gorgeous Master Cameron.” She sighed wistfully. “True love prevails. It’s so romantic. I wish…”

She trailed off, staring into the distance a moment with sad eyes. Concerned, Jess placed a hand on her arm. “Cleo? You okay?”

Cleo shook her head, as if shaking away a dream. “I’m grand,” she replied. “Except that now we have to find another pleasure sub, since greedy Master Cameron doesn’t want to share you.”

Jess touched her red pleasure sub collar, which she still wore every time she came to the Masters Club. “Do you think I’ll get a new collar today? From Master Cameron?”

“Absolutely, you lucky girl.”

As they walked together to the auction room, Jess mused on the astonishing turn her life had taken in the past few months. She was happily ensconced in a new job, and she was utterly and completely in love with Cameron Lord.

They were officially a couple, and spent most nights together, and every weekend. Friday and Saturday always found them at the Masters Club, enjoying intense scenes by themselves and also with others.

Master Cameron was introducing Jess to water play, and the experience was both terrifyingly thrilling and deeply erotic. They were planning to move in together at the end of the month, and Jess couldn’t be happier.

It had been Cameron’s idea to hold this official claiming ceremony at the club. He’d kept the plans to himself, despite her pestering him for details. “All you have to do is show up and submit,” he’d told her with a grin. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

When they entered the auction room, they saw Mistress Dominique, Master Grayson and several other club members seated about the room. Various slaves and subs, all of whom Jess was friendly with, were kneeling beside their owners, some with their heads resting lightly on their Master’s knee. Brandon was kneeling on a cushion beside Mistress Dominique.

Cleo led Jess to the fireplace at the front of the room, where Master Cameron was waiting. He was wearing a white silk pirate’s shirt, the laces open at his chest, his long legs encased in the softest black leather, looking as handsome and masterfully dashing as ever.

“Wow,” he mouthed as he gazed at her, his smile warm, admiration in his eyes.

A small end table had been set up beside the St. Andrew’s cross. An oblong blue velvet box had been placed on it. Jess’s fingers fluttered to her collar once more as she imagined what lay waiting for her in the pretty box.

Cleo gave Jess a quick kiss on each cheek. “Good luck,” she whispered. Then she left Jess, taking her place on her knees beside Master Grayson.

The room quieted, all eyes on them. Mistress Dominique rose to her feet and came to stand between the pair. Turning to face those present, she intoned, “We are gathered together tonight to celebrate the formal Master/sub union of Master Cameron and Jess. The ceremony will be brief. Hopefully, their union will be long and happy.”

She stepped from between Cameron and Jess and turned to face them. “The ceremony has two parts. First, the claiming mark, and then the vows.” She nodded toward Master Cameron. “You’re on,” she added, flashing a quick grin.

As she moved away, Master Cameron stepped closer to Jess. Speaking in a voice loud enough to carry, he said, “First I will claim you with a mark to symbolize your willingness to suffer for me. I’ve chosen the single tail for your mark. You will choose where it lands.”

Jess drew in her breath, her heart quickening as she stared at the whip. She started to speak, faltered, and cleared her throat. “I would like to be marked where it pleases you, Sir.”

He regarded her a moment and then nodded. “Very well. You will stand against the cross, arms and legs spread, facing our guests. You will not move or make a sound until I release you.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her heart now bashing itself against the walls of her rib cage. All eyes were on her as she assumed the position, willingly holding herself spread and vulnerable for this man to mark as it pleased him.