Master B-1901 (Garden of the Gods #14)

Master B-1901

D ark hair. Light hair. Long. Short. Straight. Curly. I had no real preference on the woman I wanted. Beautiful. Unattractive. Any slave I chose was going to end up dead anyway. I knew this. Did I care? Perhaps I used to. One could only feel remorseful so much before the shock or denial of their curse completely faded. Where months ago I would have been swayed towards dark hair and curves, the appeal for anything specific wasn’t here anymore.

It hadn’t always been like this since I’d been at the Gardens. I’d been stupid and let myself get excited over my first slave. I’d even felt that twinge when I bought my second. Now…nope. I refused to get excited over a corpse. And that’s exactly what this slave would be—mental illness or not. At least now, I wouldn’t have to worry about there being much of a consciousness there. Not like I truly cared that much at all. It wasn’t even their life I mourned over, but my loss of control. Of sex. Of…something or someone to fill the empty space between insanity.

My eyes scanned the pictures of the blank slate women, and I flipped the page, frowning. They were beautiful. I could have chosen any and would have been satisfied with my choice, but that wasn’t necessarily going to work. I needed someone strong. Someone that could survive at least more than a few damn days. How was I going to assure that with a robot? The woman would take orders. I couldn’t just tell her not to die and expect her to be living and breathing when I came out of my episode.

A groan left me. I could chain myself up if I wanted to. I’d done it before. Thing was…I found it only made it worse over time. That’s why I had to keep with the treatment. My doctor assured if I continued to take the pills and come to therapy, I stood a chance. I could be normal, to an extent. I could live a real life on the outside world again. Monitored, of course. Thing was…I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

“Maybe you?”

My lids narrowed as I held my finger between the pages and flipped to the next. Glancing over the women, I turned back. Curly, auburn hair was a few inches past her shoulders. She was beautiful and even smiling in the picture unlike so many others. My focus was on her lips, but only because I was wondering how they’d feel wrapped around my cock. Too real. If I wanted a normal slave, I’d buy one. I needed a blank slate. No emotion. Not unless I ordered it.

I gritted my teeth as I pushed the top half of my body from leaning down over the counter. The auction was still in full swing, and I took in the woman climbing the stage. She had tanned skin, and her hair was so light it practically looked white against the blue robe. My eyes darted back to the book. I reached over, closing my lids as I turned a big section of pages. I let my finger hover, bringing it straight down. Only when I connected with the page did I take in what I was pointing to.

Nothing.

I hadn’t landed on a picture at all, but to the right of one. What I saw had my pulse suddenly thundering in my chest. Fate? Stupidity on my part?

Swallowing was almost impossible as I got closer. Straight, chestnut brown hair was level with the woman’s defined jawline. She had round, pale blue eyes and a small, thin nose. Her lips were on the fuller side, almost too full, but for seconds I couldn’t break my stare from them. I licked my own lips, pulling at the collar of my t-shirt as I took in her emotionless expression.

Blank slate. Yes. She appeared as that. I liked it. I couldn’t hurt her. Not really. I could, but she wouldn’t feel it like a normal slave would. At least…I didn’t think so. They were programmed. Programmed to obey. To take orders. If she felt pain, she wouldn’t respond to it, which told me that it couldn’t be registering.

But…fuck. The woman was beautiful. Too beautiful for another slave I didn’t want to risk losing. I hadn’t even decided on the woman yet, and already the thought of killing her put a bad taste in my mouth. But wasn’t that nonsense? She was here to be bought. Someone would eventually buy her, and if that was the case, her fate would be no better with them than it would be with me. She’d die either way. And I didn’t necessarily dislike killing. I felt as though in my past it even got me off. It was just that…the fucking silence. Being alone…I liked being alone but…not with the confusion. The guilt? No. Not really but…

A growl left me. Fuck it. Shouldn’t I just take the win? Take her? Keep her for however long that happened to be?

I glanced back at the television. Back to the numbers rising on the screen that held the bids. I didn’t let the prices sink in. I didn’t care. Grabbing my phone, I hit the number provided with the binder, shifting on my feet as I began relaying the slave’s information to the guard.

“Would you like to come down and see your slave before you start the bidding process, Master Nineteen-oh-one?”

My head shook. “No. Start it.”

Another jump in my pulse.

“Done. She is up next on the queue. I will relay any matches to your bid when the time comes. You can increase the bid or pass.”

“Understood.”

I headed for the refrigerator, swinging it open as I reached in for a beer. Classical music began to play in my ear as I waited for the guard to return. Minutes passed. As they did, I paced, sucking down the cold liquid like it was air. I was just about done with my first beer when the guard’s voice came through.

“The bid has just been placed.” A few seconds. “Two bids. It’s up to two-hundred-twenty-thousand.”

I nodded, regardless that he couldn’t see me.

“Increase.”

I knew the bids went up ten thousand at a time for the first hundred thousand. I didn’t need a play-by-play to know the higher it went, the larger the bid increased.

“You’ve been outbid. Once.” He paused. “Twice. No, three times.”

A growl left me. Fucking scavenger motherfuckers. I’d only been bid against once while ordering over the phone so far, but I’d heard stories in the lounging areas how some of these Masters couldn’t resist a pretty face they hadn’t found first. My choice was gorgeous, and it was all about the steal. I had a feeling that was the case here.

“Keep going. Don’t stop until you have her. I don’t care how fucking high the bid goes.”

“Are you sure, Master?”

I took in her picture, feeling how a sensation almost like butterflies took over. My jaw tightened, and I turned, reaching in and grabbing another beer.

“Absolutely.”

“I will return after it’s over, Master.”

The classical music came back on, and I opened the beer, taking a big drink. Three drinks in, and I was back to pacing. To eating the floor up in strides way too determined for someone about to kill their investment. I slowed, coming to a stop as I let my training sink in.

Calm. Deep breaths. Breathe in. Hold. One-two-three-four-five. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold.

“Sir.”

My eyes opened. Your bid has been secured. We will get your slave programmed and bring her to you promptly.

“Thank you.”

I didn’t bother asking how much he’d spent. Hanging up, I glanced back to the picture. Back to the woman who now belonged to me. Where I hadn’t paid attention to the personal information next to the photo, I found myself picking up the binder as I glanced over it.

Slave #:f0091

Close to my own number.

Age: twenty-five

Hair: brown

Eyes: blue

Height: 5ft 7inches

My eyes flared. That tall? My imagination had her so much smaller. Not that I really cared but…I hadn’t ever been with a taller woman before. Not because I chose shorter women, I just hadn’t met the right one.

Skills: hyper-alert, impeccable attention to detail, problem solving, sufficient communication.

I stopped. Sufficient? What was this? Was she going for a job interview? I scanned back up, not seeing anything to indicate why in the hell they would have set it up like this. The men, I could understand. Most of the blank slate males were protectors for the Mistresses, but the women? That wasn’t their purpose.

Knocking had me looking up, surprised. No way in hell they were already here. Were they?

More knocking sounded, and I swung open the barrier, my mouth parting in confusion.

“Doc.”

A warm smile came to Mistress Two as she brushed back her red hair.

“Good evening, Master. Braddock,” she said, gesturing towards me.

“Brad,” I corrected. “I feel our introduction is a loop stuck on repeat.”

“May I come inside?”

I hesitated, but widened the door, letting her through.

“I’m actually waiting for my new slave.”

“Oh, yes. I’m alerted when my favorite clients bid.” She headed for the middle of the room, turning to face me. “I was also notified your purchase was finalized. It’s why I’m here.”

“Oh.”

Silence played between us as her lids narrowed. I knew Melissa LaRoe from early in my youth. She’d been acquaintances with my mother, but I wouldn’t say they were ever close. My mother didn’t trust her, not that I really knew anyone who did. The stories of her were all over the place. Some spoke as if she created miracles. Others whispered that she was full of nightmares. I didn’t give much credit to either. I still wasn’t fixed.

“I know our appointment isn’t for a few more days, but it’s been almost two weeks since we’ve talked.”

My head drew back. “No, we talked the other day, remember? I was having a bad morning, and you saw me in the lounge area getting coffee. We talked then.”

The woman’s lids fluttered as her brow creased.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember that. What day?”

I thought over the date. “It was Tuesday. I told you about the dilemma I was having in finding a slave. I wasn’t sure if I should get another after…last time.”

More, she looked confused, but it was so brief, I wondered if I had caught it at all.

“Shame on me. I’ve had such a hectic schedule. Come, let’s sit on the sofa while we wait for your slave. Tell me about our conversation. I’m afraid with all my clients, everything is beginning to blur together.”

My jaw flexed, but I followed her to my sectional, taking a seat a few cushions away. Didn’t she know it was dangerous to be in my domain, alone ?

I took a seat, taking another drink of my beer as I recalled the meeting.

“You were wearing a pale pink shirt and a black skirt. I told you about the episode I had, and you had me go over what I could remember of it.”

“Episode? You had an episode, and you didn’t call me? Tell me about it again.”

Did she not fucking care about her patients? Was I so insignificant that she didn’t even remember the hell I’d experienced when I told her about it? I wanted to explode. To groan. To kick her out and tell her we’d talk tomorrow after I got to spend the night with my slave. I didn’t want her here. I didn’t want to be talking about this right now. That was asking for trouble.

“I was back overseas.”

Her hand came up, cutting me off before I could get out another word.

“Braddock—”

“Brad.”

“Brad.” She shifted on her cushion. “I want you to do me a favor. Close your eyes and count down from 10.”

“What?” My head shook. “I’m not in a session right now, Doc.”

“Master.” She leaned forward the smallest amount. My eyes connected with hers and a calming washed over me just like it did in our appointments. “Very good. We’re going to make you so much better.” Her voice was monotone yet soothing. Slightly slow. Beautiful. Hypnotic. “Count down for me. Let your body relax.”

“I don’t have time for this…I…ten. Nine.”

“Very good. Your anger is lifting. You’re feeling it leave you with every breath. Keep going.”

“Eight.”

“Yes. Your tongue is leaving the roof of your mouth. You can feel your jaw unclench.”

“Seven. Six.”

My body was getting tired as my actions became automatic at her orders.

“You feel safe. Happy.”

“Five. Four.”

“Listen very closely. You’ve never been overseas, Braddock.”

“ Three .”

“You never served in the military. You had your family duties, but they were under the supervision of your father. You’re a Pierce. You run your line. You have since your father’s death nearly four years ago.”

“ Two .”

Had my tone rumbled and been harsh? No. I was calm. I was as light as a feather.

“You’re smart. Even though you won’t remember what I’m saying, you’re getting better every day. Forget all these episodes. Let go of the fears or memories that are holding you back. You’re elite. You know what that means.”

Did I? Did I know the significance of that?

“One.”

“Open your eyes, Brad. Look at me.”

Light flooded in as I took a deep breath and smiled. I met Melissa’s stare, but she didn’t look happy. I couldn’t tell what her emotion was.

“Better?”

“Yes.” I nodded, feeling my lips draw down as my smile faded. Wait. Did I feel better? Something was off. Different.

“Back to me.”

I brought my attention up to meet her gaze.

“I know these episodes are hard for you, but you must call me immediately if you have another.” She opened her purse, pulling out her phone. While she pushed at the screen, she peeked up, taking in glances at me. “I’ll give you one full day with your slave. I want to see you the day after tomorrow. You’ll be fine until then, but I would like the Main Master to hear your progress and see what he thinks.”

“The Main Master?”

She did smile then. “Of course. He’s a doctor like me, Braddock. You know that. I trained him. And he’s very good. Very, very good. You’re in safe hands.”

“I know Elec,” I ground out. “We grew up together. You know that. I just don’t know if I want to see him concerning this. What we talk about is private.”

“He’s the Main Master. He’s the one who invited you to the Gardens. Elec will help. You’ll see.”

“I thought you were helping me just fine. Am I missing something?”

My doctor stood, dazzling me with her smile. “What you’re missing is your slave.” Her head tilted. “You’re tired of hurting your slaves.”

“No.” My head quickly shook. “I feel like you don’t ever listen to me. We’ve gone over this before. I don’t mind hurting them. I like hurting them. What I’m tired of is killing them so soon. Especially when I can’t remember doing it. You said you were going to help me.”

“And I am. I just did . No more worries, Braddock. I’ll help you with everything .”