Prologue

Garden of the Gods

Colorado Springs underground facility

There weren’t many things that made me happy. People. Well…people…I couldn’t stand them. But shows, speakers, and entertainers, I loved them. I could lose myself when I wasn’t the one putting on the show. That was nice. I was always in the spotlight. Always the one on the microphone. Not tonight.

“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’re 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, staring us all down. “You are no one. The only thing that connects all of you is …you’re all fucking sick.”

A smiled tugged at my lips as laughter echoed in the large theater-type setting. We were surrounded by luxury: crème-colored silk chairs. Pale lavender velvet accents. The entire space invoked welcome, just as the Main Master, Elec Wexler did through his introduction as he continued.

“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’m not Bram Whitlock2. The Garden of the Gods will never fall.”

Silence. Bram Whitlock. The Bram Whitlock? So, the rumors among the elite were true.

“For those who are new, let me explain how this works. We start the bidding with the white, or w’s3 for short. These are the virgins. From there, we move to the b’s4: or blue.” He paused, raising one of his eyebrows sarcastically. “You guessed it: not virgins. The d’s5 will 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 crows6. They’re not your typical slave. These are the cheap, buy-one-get-one-half-off sort of deals. They’re 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 is the standard.”

“For the Mistresses or those looking for our programmable, ‘blank slate’ 7males, your auction is just through that door off to the right. The information was in your packet, but just in case you missed it, these are the males who have had a portion of their memories erased. They know who they are, but they only remember what we want them to. We’d like to think when it comes to security issues, we’ve learned from the past. Like I said before, we’re in the beta stages, but we’re assured these male slaves are safe. Since we’re doing our own trial run, you can get them at a steal. They will take orders. They will obey no matter what the demand is. Use your imagination. If you’re still having trouble understanding, read more about each of these in the pamphlet.”

He turned, pointing, but continued with his speech. “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.”

The Main Master walked the length of the stage. His towering stance couldn’t be ignored. I saw it. Everyone did as he continued to take us all in. He wore a black fitted suit with a matching black button-up shirt and tie. His dark hair was on the shorter side. He was in a room full of celebrities. They were some of most beautiful people in the world, and he fit right in with them. What I couldn’t stop thinking about was Bram Whitlock. There was no mistaking the resemblance. If I’d heard right, the two men were cousins, so it only made sense that Elec would step in when Bram stepped out.

“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 if you follow them but being accepted into a place like this 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 from the stage to the nearest entrance. Beautiful women adorned in sheer, white robes waited for the Main Master’s signal. Although a w8 wasn’t something I was interested in, I was intrigued to see how this was going to play out. That was if the two men at my side didn’t ruin my night, first.

“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.”