At His Mercy

EXCERPT

    Jess 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.

    There was no question of her declining the offer. She was wildly curious to see what it all entailed. 

    Glancing at the invitation, she typed in the information necessary to gain access to the Masters Club page. She was sent directly to the non-disclosure agreement. Putting her lawyer’s hat on, she quickly scanned it and then reread it, taking her time.

    Clearly, the agreement had been drawn up by an attorney (Mr. Lord?). Beneath the requisite legal jargon, it basically bound the signatory to complete silence regarding the club’s activities and existence, except with other approved members. There was no wiggle room. If you were unwilling to sign off, you need proceed no further.

    She definitely wanted to proceed further, if just to satisfy her curiosity. She typed her electronic signature. After a few seconds of processing, a new screen opened, informing her the agreement had been executed. At the top of the screen it read:

Thank you for executing the non-disclosure agreement. Whether or not you choose to audition, the terms of the NDA will remain in effect.

The audition is scheduled for 8:30 this evening. If you are unable to make this appointment, please click here to reschedule.

    Ignoring the offered link, Jess read on.

Proper submissive attire is expected for the audition. There is a place to change at the Masters Club, if necessary. A driver in a black S550 Mercedes will arrive at your building at eight o’clock sharp. During the drive to the Masters Club, the driver may give you certain directives. If this occurs, you are to obey immediately, and to the letter. He will be available to return you to your home at the end of the evening.

Once you are delivered to the Masters Club, you will submit to an extensive examination by a panel of judges. The examination will include a determination of your submissive grace, comportment and ability to handle intense erotic pain.

If you are chosen as a Masters Club submissive, you will be expected to submit to any and all Masters in the organization at any time while you are on the premises. You will be granted full membership privileges at all Masters Club locations, worldwide. Specific expectations and details for the position of pleasure submissive will be further explained at a future date, should you be deemed a good fit.

    There were two boxes at the bottom of the screen. Beneath one of the boxes it read, ACCEPT. Beneath the other, it read, DECLINE.

    Jess picked up the invitation, reading it yet again. It wasn’t signed. There was nothing personal about the wording. But the timing was too precise for it to be a coincidence. Mr. Lord had sent her home early, not because of a job well done on the Lansing deal (though hopefully, his praise in that regard had been sincere), but so she could be there to receive the invitation and prepare accordingly. It had to be from Mr. Lord, or at least sent at his instigation.

    Would he be the one behind the wheel of the black sedan? Would he be a part of the panel of judges? Would he expect her to strip in front of him and be put through her submissive paces? She hugged herself, chills of nervous excitement radiating through her core at the thought.

    Did he own his own personal slave girl? Someone he kept naked and in chains at home while he was at work? Perhaps he preferred to have his pick of women at his fancy private club—a club to which she was being invited!

    Her mind reeled with questions and possibilities. Was she actually supposed to climb into a car with a total stranger to be whisked away to who knew where? Then faced with an audition that could involve who knew what? She knew nothing about the people Cameron Lord associated with on his own time. What if he was secretly connected to sex traffickers, and she was just the latest potential victim?

    Even as this absurd thought tried to insert itself into her usually cautious brain, Jess rejected it. Though she didn’t know Mr. Lord outside of work, she considered herself a good judge of character. She’d had ample opportunity to observe the sexy, accomplished Cameron Lord, and she firmly believed he was a man of honesty and integrity.

    All rational considerations aside, she was curious as hell about this Masters Club. If the place was legit, she was being handed the keys to a veritable BDSM paradise. And possibly a chance to scene with Lord Hunk!

    Even taking Cameron Lord out of the equation, the prospect was deeply intriguing. Everyone associated with the Masters Club is experienced in impact play, bondage and discipline. 

    Just the words sent a lovely shiver of yearning through her. Imagine scening with truly experienced Doms? No more hit or miss with the amateurs at the public clubs. No more topping from the bottom to get her needs met.

    She glanced at her watch. It wasn’t yet four o’clock. She still had plenty of time to groom and dress. She could even pop out and get something new at her favorite fetish shop in the Village. 

    Slow down, she ordered herself, aware she was getting ahead of herself.

    Was it really wise to get involved outside the office with one of the equity partners? Even if it wasn’t a dating situation, it could definitely be compromising, and might even destroy her career.

    “Are you insane, Jess?” she asked aloud.

    But, even as she asked herself this very sensible question, she knew what she was going to do. She couldn’t not do it. In spite of all the potential risks, it was too great an opportunity to let slip away.

    Her fingers poised over the keyboard, she clicked ACCEPT.