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Prologue
MASTER B-0999
Garden of the Gods
Colorado Springs underground facility
Slave auctions used to be my life before Whitlock fell. I lived for them. Dreamed of the violence and blood I’d get out of each one. The events used to rule me. That was before I thought I’d lose it for good. Now, with the new set of rules this place provided, my excitement didn’t compare to what I felt before. As the Main Master walked the stage, I ate up every word he spoke. I saw every shift of his wide shoulders, and even the glint of evil deep in his eyes as I peered through the binoculars. The Garden of the Gods was my new sanctuary, and Elec Wexler’s words only fed the frenzy storming within.
“This is the beta run. Even though you have taken classes, and even though our slaves have been trained, no position as Master or Mistress is set in stone until you can prove you’re worthy of the title. So far, you’ve passed enough tests to make it here to our first auction, but who are you? I’ll tell you. You are the wealthy. The powerful. Influential. That got you here, but that’s where it ends. Inside the Gardens, you have no name; you have a number. Your identity or status in the outside world means absolutely nothing. Zero. Here, there is no power or favoritism. This is my world, and you are no one. Let that sink in.” He paused, his eyes narrowing even more as he seemed to look right at me. “You are no one. The only thing that connects all of you is…you’re all fucking sick.”
My smile was immediate, and my head rolled back as my body shook with laughter.Yes we were.
“Tonight is the first night of endless more auctions. A small majority of you come to us from Whitlock1. Take note, this is not that place. The rules are different. The location is different. Do not mistake me for your old Main Master. I am not Bram Whitlock. The Garden of the Gods will never fall.”
It better not.
“For those who are new, let me explain how this works. We start the bidding with the white, or w’s2for short. These are the virgins. From there, we move to the b’s: or blue3.” He paused, raising one of his eyebrows sarcastically. “You guessed it: not virgins. The d’s4will follow. They’re docile, trained, and good for those who are looking for a long-term slave. Lastly, come the black, or as we call them, the crows5. They’re not your typical slave. These are the cheap, buy-one-get-one-half-off sort of deals. They are the convicts. The disfigured. The breeders. Some are plain repulsive.” He shrugged. “And if you’re into it, old. You get it. Like I said, not typical for a place where beauty and sterilization are usually the standard.”
Secluded in my private balcony, my permanent smile grew. Now we were talking. For so long, I dreamed of no limits with the slaves. Here, I’d get a craving far more enticing than just invoking pain with death. The Gardens was offering me a dream I could now play out as I let kink and compulsion merge with my past.
“For the Mistresses or those looking for our programmable, ‘blank slate’6males, your auction is just through that door off to the right.”
I barely heard him as he continued. All I could listen to was the fuzzy beat of my heart in my ears as my fists clenched through the flashes of fantasy. One that had multiplied over the last two years since Whitlock fell.
“Some of you are here to spill blood. Some want sex beyond the norm. Here, there are no rules. What you buy is yours. Do with it what you will. Fuck it. Kill it. Eat it.”
Elec’s words had me blinking acts away as he walked down the length of the stage.
“If you look down the arm of the chair, you will see a button. Do not.” He stopped, turning in a slow circle to view everyone in the room. “Let me say it again, so I’m not accused of not making myself clear.Do not…press that button unless you are sure you want to bid. Also…do not continue bidding if you don’t have the money. Here, there’s no such thing as accidents. If you bid, you buy. If you can’t pay, I will take my payment however I see fit. Your business. Your house. Your hand.” His eyes narrowed. “Your life.I am not your friend. I am not going to take it easy on you. If you cross me, you're dead. If you lie to me, I will cut out your tongue, and then you will die. Honesty is everything. Remember that. The rules are easy, but acceptance into the Garden of the Gods comes at a price. You signed a contract to get this far. You know the dos and don’ts. Memorize them. It could mean your life if you forget.”
Lights raced the length of the circumference, illuminating the edge of the floor, and running over the top arches of multiple doorways. Gasps and chatter filled the theater and heads spun as beautiful women adorned in sheer, white robes stood in position at the entrances. My pulse spiked, and I moved to the edge of my seat.
“Now that we got that out of the way; prepare to empty your wallets. This is the fun part. You’re about to have your wildest, bloodiest dreams come true. Happy bidding, Masters and Mistresses. I have no doubts you’ll enjoy.”
Master B-0999
Temptation pulled me in all ways. W’s, b’s, d’s. I wanted to pump my cum in them all. Beat them. Tear them apart with my bare hands. Waiting was never something I did well. After all, the first dozen slaves I’d bought hadn’t survived the first night. Over my fifteen years with Whitlock, I’d learned some very hard lessons. When I thought it fell for good, I walked away with only one regret: I wish I would have savored things a lot sooner than I had. Been more patient and not taken it for granted. I wasn’t making the same mistakes as I did back then. This time, I’d take my time even more. I’d cherish my deeds with each slave and drag it out for all it was worth. Not like these stupid bidding babies that were dropping a fortune on the first candy store cunt that appealed. No way was I going down that road again. They’d learn like I had. Looks weren’t everything. Neither was rushing through sating the need. By the morning when their slaves were dead, they’d see that it paid to go slow. Time was precious when it came to this life. To bond and then end the slave’s life right before the next auction…even more so. It was the perfect amount of time, and a routine that had taken me over nine years to master. It was long enough to torture myself, but short enough that I didn’t get bored.
“Masters and Mistresses.” At the Main Master’s voice, I glanced over from the slave waiter who was offering me a drink in my private balcony. “Due to the sheer size of requests, we’ve decided to move the d and crow auction. W’s and b’s will remain here. As I said before, blank slates are that way.” Elec turned waving to the opposite direction. “D’s and crows will be right through that side door, here on the main level. There are sofas throughout. You can find your slave in one of the binders sitting next to the seating. If you have any questions, guards are posted at every entrance and exit. Direct your concerns to them, and they will assist you however you need.”
As fast as he appeared on the stage, he left, leaving the current auction of w’s to continue. I stood, waving the waiter away. No long night of letting this draw out. My throat tightened in excitement, and I wiggled my fingers as the adrenaline soared to record levels. The moment I stepped from my balcony into the hall, I was met with a surprised look from a former Whitlock1Master. He was older than my forty years, but not by much.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Amusement had Walter Kurley’s lips peeling back in a devilish smile as we both closed the distance. “It’s good to see you, Edward. What’s your number?”
“Nine-ninety-nine. You?”
“Ooh, good number. One-thousand-eight. You beat me, bastard. You always do.”
I laughed, shrugging. Walter’s dark hair had turned even more salt and pepper since last I’d seen him. I couldn’t say that for myself. My hair was just as dark as ever.As dark as me.Both of our eyes were brown, but where his were almond shaped, mine were round. His nose was big. Mine, average shape and size. There was nothing impressive about either of us, but I did have the edge on looks, even if they weren’t remarkably impressive. What I did have over him was size. A lot of it. At over six-feet-five-inches, I towered over everyone around. My height wasn’t the only thing I had to my advantage. I was in better shape than ninety percent of those here. I had to be. The most dangerous monsters needed the heaviest guarded cages. My body was nothing more than a representation of just how deadly I was on the inside. Savior to me, reaper to others.
“Say, you going for a d or crow?”
I stayed at a slow pace next to the Master, hiding my excitement.
“Crow.” Breeder, but he didn’t need to know the black abyss I was drowning in. To him, I no doubt appeared calm, maybe even bored. My shadow wasn’t leaking free, and it wouldn’t. I only let out what I wanted people to see. My height made me stand out. My emotions would not. “What about you? What are you here for?”
“D. I’m trying something new. I don’t know about you, but the last two years lasted longer than I want to remember. I’m thinking of taking this first one slow.”
