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After a while, the waitress brought the check and they settled up. As they were leaving, Mark said, “You should come for dinner tonight so you can meet everyone in person.”
“Man, I’d love to, but I promised my aunt I’d go to this family barbeque. There’s no way I could gracefully get out of it. I should be able to make it up the mountain by eight or so.”
“That’s fine, too,” Mark agreed equably. “Don’t forget your gear bag,” he added with a grin.
“I never leave home without it,” Beau replied with a laugh.
Chapter 3
Late Saturday afternoon Lia arrived at the gates to The Enclave. She punched in the code and, after a moment, the gates swung slowly inward. She parked her motorcycle in the lot behind the mansion.
Climbing off the bike, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text to Lucia to let her know she’d arrived. Removing her helmet, she hung it on the handlebars. She unbuckled the saddlebag and pulled out her duffel, which she slung over her shoulder.
As she made her way to the front door, Lia worried the corner of a ragged nail with her teeth. No slave trainee was permitted entry into The Enclave unless he or she was naked. Did that rule still apply to her?
No. She was no longer a trainee. The thought made her wistful in a way she hadn’t expected. Despite the fact that she’d been the one to bail, she still yearned for that elusive submissive serenity Enclave slaves possessed, and which she’d never come close to achieving.
Before she could ring the bell, one of the huge double doors swung back. Lovely Lucia, with her dark hair and liquid black eyes, had a big grin on her face. She was naked, her only adornment Master Anthony’s collar and the gold wedding band on her finger.
“Lia,” she cried, opening her arms. “So good to see you again.”
When they parted, Lucia stepped back and looked Lia up and down, frowning as she took in the leather biker jacket and heavy black boots.
“What’s all this? Slave girls don’t enter The Enclave dressed like that. Have you forgotten after only a few weeks?” Though she tried to keep her expression stern, Lucia’s eyes were dancing.
Lia barked a laugh. “I failed slave training 101, or did you forget?” She’d been aiming for playful. She heard the bitterness in her tone and silently cursed herself. She had not come back to The Enclave to rehash her failures. This was supposed to be a fun weekend of total masochistic abandon, and she’d promised herself to make the most of it.
Lucia’s expression immediately softened. “We’ve been over this,querida. You didn’t fail. We did.” She took Lia’s arm, pulling her along. “Come on down to the slave quarters. We’ll get you settled and you can meet our new trainees.”
They made their way down the basement stairs, Lucia lightly tripping along on bare feet, Lia clomping behind in her Doc Martens. It was a little after five o’clock, which was designated as free time for slave trainees. Lia had cherished that hour of downtime, finding it a welcome and necessary release from the constant pressures of rigorous training and forced submission.
As they neared the bottom of the stairs, Lia saw the four trainees sprawled on the sofa and chairs in the communal area. There were three women and one guy, all of them naked save for their black trainee collars. In spite of herself, Lia’s hand flew to her throat, her fingers stroking the bare skin as another wave of longing swept through her.
All four trainees appeared to be somewhere in their twenties or early thirties. Two of the women were staring down at their cell phones, the other woman and the man talking quietly. Everyone looked up as Lucia and Lia appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“Where are Michael and Ellen?” Lia asked, referencing the two trainees she’d been with while at The Enclave.
“They both graduated from the program last week. Michael went home to his Mistress. Ellen went back to Raleigh, where she’s from. I’m hoping we can get her back to The Enclave for our first binding auction next month.”
“Binding auction?” Lia asked. “What’s that?”
“That’s what we’re calling this new type of auction, to distinguish it from our local charity auctions. Lawrence is spearheading the initiative. Binding auctions will be specially curated, invitation-only events for serious players looking for a longer-term Master/slave connection. One of our goals is to help some of our program graduates who are still looking for a permanent placement with a Master. All participants will have access to detailed profiles of participating Doms and subs prior to the bidding. The specific contract terms will be negotiated after the auction.”
Lia tried to imagine auctioning herself off to the highest bidder, someone she might not even know. While it sounded sexy in an abstract sort of way, it was definitely not something she would entertain in real life.
She was distracted from her thoughts when Lucia said, “Hey, everyone. This is Lia. She’ll be participating as a volunteer for this event. She’ll be staying down here in the quarters while she’s here.”
To Lia, she said, “Meet Madison, Kinsley, Juliette and Nick.”
Greetings were exchanged, and Lia did her best to commit the new trainees’ names to memory. Madison was a dark-skinned beauty with dozens of black and gold box braids pulled back from her lovely face. Lia noticed the faint crisscross of fading welts on the woman’s full breasts and felt a spasm of jealousy. Hopefully her own body would soon be stippled with marks from various whips and crops. She could hardly wait.
Kinsley was long and lean, with pale skin and a spray of freckles across the bridge of her pert nose, her wavy auburn hair falling loosely to her shoulders.
Juliette had large blue eyes, full, pouty lips and short black hair, longbangs falling over her forehead and obscuring one eye. She sported a tattoo of a coiled whip on one shoulder and what looked like a butterfly on her left breast.
Nick was of medium height, with heavily muscled shoulders and torso. He had thick blond hair cut short on the sides and falling in a thatch over a high forehead. His eyes were green, his nose hawkish, his cheekbones defined. Like the girls, his genitals were shaved smooth—a requirement for Enclave slaves and trainees alike.
There was the sound of bare feet pattering down the stairs. Lia turned to see Katie, who belonged to Brandon and Marjorie. She was a pretty girl with curly red hair framing a round face, green eyes and rosebud lips.
