***
Seven days passed and Lucas hadn’t been online. Grace had sent emails but stopped after three messages, deciding two was pathetic but three was just psycho.
He was definitely punishing her, giving her something to think about. She’d called out sick, unable to focus at work, and was currently flopped across her bed like she’d had a fit of the vapors.
A knock sounded on the door, and she wiped her eyes.
“Open up. It’s me.”
Lainey. Just what she didn’t need. Grace lay there for another few minutes, trying not to breathe, as if her friend had suddenly developed superpowers and would be able to hear her from out in the hallway.
“I know you’re in there. Mrs. Daines said you’ve been holed up in your apartment all day playing depressing music.”
True. Radiohead qualified as music to slit your wrists to. She knew she was being emo, but she just wanted to wallow in it for another day or two.
“Open up or I’ll go to the super. You know he’ll let me in. He thinks I’ve got a nice ass.”
“Fucking God, just GO,” Grace shouted from the bed. She was now hanging half off, her head leaning back, almost touching the floor.
“I’m going to get the super. I’m going to go get sexually harassed now, just for you.”
Grace rolled off the bed and struggled to stand. When she opened the door, Lainey stood there with a smile on her face.
“Put on something that screams submissive toy. We’re going to the club.”
Grace groaned and turned away. If it were any other person, the club would mean a trendy indie band and tossing back a few margaritas or doing body shots off each other, if they were feeling especially frisky. But Lainey meant the BDSM club.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Grace said.
“Well, I wasn’t being covert. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
“I want Lucas.”
Lainey rolled her eyes and steered her by the elbow back into her bedroom where the kinky clothes lived. “Lucas hasn’t contacted you in a week. He’s done with you. Which, in my opinion, is for the best. Eleu isn’t safe, and you know it. You don’t want that life. Don’t get confused on the difference between fantasy and what’s real. It’s fine to fantasize, but this isn’t what you want.”
“No. It’s not what you want. Don’t project.” Grace didn’t have the energy for a fight, but she wasn’t going to have Lainey acting like everybody wanted and needed the same things just because it was more convenient for her worldview.
“Eric Tatum is an investment banker. He’s a respected member of the community. He’s looking for a 24/7 sub. Just meet him. Talk to him. Play with him a little. See if something clicks.”
Grace flopped back on the bed again as Lainey pulled out an outfit.
“Black is so overdone, but it’s slimming.”
“I’m a size six,” Grace said, her words coming out muffled against the arm she’d dramatically thrown over her face. She was plenty slim enough and not in the mood to play kinky Halloween dress-up for a pretend master at the club.
“Just put it on. If you don’t like him, I won’t bother you anymore. You can go back to wallowing about how your one shot to give up all your freedom to a probable deranged lunatic on an island on the other side of the world was lost to you forever.”
“I hate you,” Grace said. But she took the outfit. If being a walking cliché for one night would get Lainey off her back, she’d gladly comply.
***
Edge was located on the far end of town in a renovated chair factory. The club had three levels meant to correlate with various membership dues. Though it was really more of a way to funnel money into the club, many of the higher-tier members considered platinum membership like some badge of true kinkiness.
The tiers were silver, gold, and platinum. Grace and Lainey were silver members, which gave them access only to the main level. Gold members got access to the main level and the second floor, and platinum members got access to everywhere including the premium dungeons. Whatever that meant.
Grace had stuffed herself into a leather corset and boy shorts. Fishnets covered her legs along with thigh-high boots. Her hair was in a high ponytail that threw a little I Dream of Jeannie into the look.
“I feel ridiculous.”
“Well, you look great. You loved that outfit when you bought it,” Lainey said.
A year ago, when I was still playing. Since Lucas and the possibility of Eleu she’d lost a lot of interest in costumes and props and protocol. It seemed all so fake. A bunch of scenes. A bunch of play actors waltzing across a stage where they competed for the really real kink prize.
Grace’s arm went numb when Lainey squeezed it and wouldn’t let go. “He’s here,” she breathed.
“If you’re so excited, why don’t you go for him?”
“Oh, I wish.”
Grace turned to see a man standing in the corner that fit the tall, dark, and handsome cliché as if it had been stereotyped especially for him. He raised his shot glass and nodded before downing the drink and setting it on the counter, his eyes never leaving his prey as he moved toward them.
Last year she would have hyperventilated at the idea of a guy like that showing her even that small bit of attention, especially considering your average master didn’t have the self-control to put down the corn chips and beer, judging from some of the beer guts she’d seen.
“You don’t mind if I whisk her away, do you, Lainey?” Eric said when he reached them.
Grace arched a brow. “Don’t I get a say in any of this?”
His eyes swept over her. “You’re here aren’t you? And you’re dressed like you’re interested.”
She shrugged, already ready to go home. Lainey moved between them, linking their arms in a blatant attempt at matchmaking. “Go, Grace. Have fun. What harm is it going to do? If Lucas IMs you again, you can always go back to talking to him.”
Grace’s eyes widened and she looked quickly to Eric. But he just chuckled. He’d clearly been informed of the Lucas situation. She wanted the earth to open and swallow her. It was looking less like a set-up and more like an intervention by the minute.
Before she could form a reply or a good line to get her out of the club, Eric was leading her toward a set of stairs behind a gold rope.
“Where are we going?”
He simultaneously flashed his pass to both her and the bouncer. “The platinum level.”
Ugh. He was one of those.
As if reading her mind only to find her insanely adorable, he laughed and shook his head.
The difference in the lower level and the main level was like the difference in steerage and first class on the Titanic, except in this case, the luxury was below.
The décor was plush and decadent, while still being scary as hell. The contraptions upon which both men and women were being bound and whipped were complicated and ornate. Eric took a glass of champagne off a tray and handed it to her, his shrewd eyes taking in her reactions.
“Intimidated?”
“No,” she half lied. The half part was the impressiveness of the setup only. She’d tried a 24/7 relationship with all the props and protocol. It had left her cold because at the end of the day, she could leave him and go back to her former life.
Eric maneuvered her to a private booth out of the way.
“I’ve done the 24/7 thing before,” she said when they were settled.
“Oh?” he said, not betraying any emotion on that topic one way or the other.
“It was all just a game. A big, elaborate game.”
“And you want it to be real? That’s why you’re willing to risk everything to go to Eleu?”
Grace took a sip of the champagne, trying to hide her surprise when it turned out to be high quality. Platinum level members might not be more kinky than others, but they certainly were getting a different experience at Edge.
“Are you going to mock me or tell me how stupid I am?”
“Not at all. I understand completely. But are you sure you can’t have that kind of bond with someone here?”
“And that someone would be you?”
“I’m looking, yes. But I’m not offering anything until I find the right person. I know at least that you’re serious if you’ve been considering going to Eleu. Though I do think you have things a little confused.”
Oh, here we go. “How so?” she asked, careful not to betray her annoyance with his paternal manner.
He leaned back in the booth, his arms crossed over his chest, a pose no doubt meant to showcase his manly masterfulness. Grace waited for the strutting peacock routine to run its course.
“I think,” he said, “that reality in social situations is constructed and propped up by the group. For example, marriage is real because everyone in society agrees it is. Ceremonies and legal marriage contracts are just a way to prop up the reality. We have the same thing in the kink world with our clubs and protocols and titles and labels. It’s all just social reinforcement. But is a law really more real than a relationship? Who has the real relationship? A couple who hates each other but nevertheless are still bound by a piece of paper, or an unmarried couple with a real bond?”
An intervention was exactly what this was. She hoped he wasn’t about to demonstrate why he was real to her on one of the pieces of expensive dungeon equipment. A spanking horse less than five feet away had just been abandoned. Grace’s eyes kept drifting to it.
Eric pulled out a card and pushed it across the table. “Call me when you’re ready to consider what I’ve said, and we’ll talk further.” He slid out of the booth.
“That’s it?” she asked, her mouth gaping a little.
“I’m not here to win you, just to pass along a little common sense and hope it takes.”
The condescension in his tone pissed her the hell off. She stood and folded the card into a tiny square. “I’m sorry you wasted your time, Mr. Tatum.” She dropped it into the champagne flute and went back upstairs to the silver level.
Lainey was waiting by the gold rope like a vulture. “Well?”
“I’m going home. Don’t ask me to come here again. I’m done with this fake bullshit.”
***
Three weeks later Grace had slipped further into a funk. Work, home, frozen dinners, sleep: that was life now. She’d avoided Lainey as much as she could, not wanting to be subjected to any more of her set-ups. The truth was, if she hadn’t crumpled the card and embarrassed herself by acting like a child, she might have called Eric.
If the island was no longer an option, he certainly seemed like he had it together. And in order to even be a platinum member of Edge, there couldn’t be any red flags. The club was careful about that. It was one of the reasons it was considered a relatively safe place to play and meet up with potential dominants.
She couldn’t bring herself to go back to the club because she was afraid she might run into Eric, probably with whoever he’d chosen to be the illustrious submissive of Mr. Investment Banker, a slap in the face she could do without. If she went back, it would be obvious she was on the prowl for a dominant, and he was off the table now––especially after that little scene the night she’d met him.
She wasn’t sure what the plan was now, but her dreams of the island had grown murky and disjointed. Where once they’d been vivid and so real she could swear she was awake, now they were a passing shadow that blurred around the edges, then puffed out of existence altogether.
While she was contemplating her lack of options for a kinky future, the phrase, Stoneman has logged in, flashed across the bottom of her screen. For a moment she didn’t breathe. He’d obviously been avoiding her, and if logged in, he’d been logging in invisibly. Or from a different account. Would he message her? Should she message him first?
The lit-up smiley face beside his name shone happily back at her while her stomach twisted in knots trying to figure out how not to fuck this up. Or even if there was a this to fuck up. Maybe he was just checking something on the account and then he’d be gone again, forever. Five minutes passed in limbo. Right as she was about to type something lame like hey, his words popped up on the screen.
Stoneman: I’ll ask again. Are you getting on that plane, Grace?
She sucked in a breath and stared at the screen. He couldn’t start with the easy questions.
Gracie343: I thought you were done with me. I haven’t had time to think about it.
Stoneman: I call bullshit. I doubt you’ve thought much of anything else.
Gracie343: I didn’t know it was still a decision for me to make. I haven’t had the opportunity to think about it like I would have if I hadn’t thought you’d abandoned me.
Stoneman: You didn’t like me pressuring you. Now you don’t like me leaving you in peace and not pressuring you. Time’s up. Are you coming or not?
Gracie343: When?
Stoneman: I’ll buy you a ticket for tomorrow. Planes don’t land directly on Eleu, so you’ll have to take a short boat trip.
Gracie343: How can I trust you when you’ve acted like this? You expect me to put my life in your hands now?
Stoneman: We’ve talked for over a year. We’ve sent pictures. We’ve been on webcam. You’ve been given enough information about me to verify and confirm and check for a criminal record. I’ve given you the tools to do that. I’m no more dangerous than any other man you could meet in a bar.
Gracie343: Except for the fact that you’d own me, and I wouldn’t have any legal rights.
Stoneman: Which you’ve told me repeatedly that you want. Time to put your money where your mouth is. Would it be easier if you saw my face again? Do you want to talk on webcam?
Gracie343: Okay.
A few moments later she pressed Accept on the video call.
“Hey.” His intense brown eyes drank her in. “You’re dressed.” He sounded disappointed.
“So are you.”
He shrugged.
Though they’d played on webcam, he hadn’t allowed her to use titles. No Master or Sir. Because he said it wasn’t real. He only wanted a title from her if she came to the island. It had been a hard thing to get used to, and if she went to him, the complete shift in their dynamic and where the power rested would be even harder to get used to.
“I won’t be an easy master,” he said.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She sighed. “Are you trying to scare me off?”
“No, I just want you to know what you’re getting into and come to me of your own free will. So should I buy you a plane ticket?”
“Can’t I have more time? I didn’t know I’d ever hear from you again.”
He shook his head, his face growing stern. “Absolutely not. You’ve had a year. You’re either in or you’re out. Take the risk or stay where you are. Make a choice now, Grace.”
She took a deep breath and looked around her apartment and thought of what very little she had to leave behind. Would she regret it if she said no and never spoke to him again? Or if she said yes and things went south? Everything about him had checked out. He’d admitted he wouldn’t be a pushover. He’d given her plenty of time to make a choice. Hadn’t he acted in good faith? She twirled a strand of hair around her fingers and finally nodded.
“Okay.”
“Good girl.”
Two
Eight months later, Grace had her answer. She’d regret it more if she said yes and things went south. Reality was perhaps a crueler master than Lucas, but not by much. The day she’d gotten on the plane, she’d mailed a letter to Lainey, the content of which still made her cringe:
I know you were only trying to help with Eric, but I want something real. By the time you receive this letter I’ll already be on the island. I’ll miss you. Maybe he’ll let me instant message you sometime.
But that never happened. She’d begged and pleaded, thinking perhaps if she were good enough, he’d let her use the computer, let her co
ntact someone from the outside world. Lainey had been right. Reality hadn’t been what she’d wanted, unless it was a reality she’d orchestrated with the circumstances that turned her on. This did not turn her on.
She wished more than anything that she hadn’t been such a brat to Eric, that she’d just tried things with him. If she had, maybe she would have fallen in love. Maybe he could have given her something that would have made her happy. Having only lived in one 24/7 relationship, she hadn’t been equipped to judge them all. Eric could have been different.
This realization came far too late as she hung in the chains in Lucas’s dungeon where she was beaten and violated, moving from the nightmare of being awake to the nightmares of sleep on an endless loop. As it turned out, he had no other slaves, at least not at the moment, though she desperately wished he did. Anything to cause him to turn his attention and obsession onto someone else. Anyone else.
She shuddered as she thought of her first day in Eleu.
***
“You understand the rights you are relinquishing and that you no longer claim citizenship in any country?” The question came from an older man with kind eyes.
Grace nodded, her stomach doing a little flip from both excitement and nerves.
“You are here of your own free will?”
“Yes.”
“No one has coerced you in any way to come here?”
She thought for a minute. Had Lucas coerced her? Their last video call had seemed pretty high-pressure. Then again, he’d waited a year, showing a level of patience that had surprised her. And he’d spent a full month away. It was pretty hard to coerce someone when you weren’t even talking to them. If she’d been wired any other way she would have gotten back out there, started looking for someone else and given up the fantasy of the island.