Six Masters Island - Chaytons Twins Read online

  SIX MASTERS ISLAND - CHAYTON’S TWINS

  by Candace Smith

  Copyright 2009 Candace Smith

  Strict Publishing International

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my friends who have supported me with their encouragement and valuable suggestions.

  Karen and Christal, thanks so much for helping me slow down and explain my thoughts a little clearer.

  Michelle, my wonderful pre-editor who catches all the commas, grammar and spelling glitches I miss. I can’t believe you offered to work with me on this second novel. I felt sure I drove you crazy over the first one.

  The hours you spend reading and re-reading (especially when I decide to add an entire chapter when you think it’s done!) is so deeply appreciated. I’ll visit you in Georgia and thank the stars for e-mail, my friend.

  PROLOGUE

  A year ago, Master Constantine harvested Sally Johansen and her cheerleading squad from a small Midwestern town, brought them to his estate, and made them his slaves. It was customary to rename the acquisitions when they arrived on Six Masters Island, and the pretty dark haired sophomore was named ‘Isabelle’. Sally Johansen and her friends disappeared from their former lives without a trace.

  Isabelle considered herself adept at manipulating situations, and while her friends and the other four women in her new Master’s harem remained somewhat timid and frightened, she studied Master Constantine’s reactions to further her status in her new life. She knew she was meant to lead and, no matter the circumstances, she would engage in any scheme necessary to promote herself to a lifestyle of comfort and prominence.

  Determined to become skillful in the sexual preferences that gave him the most pleasure, Isabelle paid close attention to the Master’s likes and dislikes. She knew he enjoyed thrusting deep down her throat while she slowly licked his soft flesh as she rose for air. He liked to have his balls sucked while her soft fingers gripped his shaft, stroking and pumping until he orgasmed. For Isabelle, survival was a game of seduction, and she learned how to arouse the Master, carefully watching his eyes for the proper reflection of desire.

  Isabelle began edging the other slaves out of her way, determining the position she had decided would bring her the most notice. The young women argued with her when they were returned to their room, but Isabelle was domineering and shrewd. Carefully hinted threats would fester in their little nest at her suggestion that a girl was lacking and being sent to the off-island auction.

  Master Constantine noticed his slaves’ despondency when he called for them. He became suspicious of Isabelle, who seemed unaffected by whatever melancholy had overtaken his usually cheerful ladies. He noticed the other girls would wait patiently for Isabelle to begin her ministrations before they moved towards him to lavish their attentions.

  Constantine finally questioned one of the young women who had been in the harem for several years. Wringing her hands nervously, the slave confided Isabelle’s warnings and told him that Isabelle was determined to earn the Master for herself. She had informed the others that she would soon be the Mistress of the estate and she would remember their transgressions.

  Isabelle’s self-serving games finally became too disruptive. After placing a call, Constantine entered the colorful pillowed room of his harem. The girls immediately dropped to their knees…all except Isabelle. She calmly walked over to Constantine and knelt down directly in front of him. “Isabelle, I’m pleased you’ve chosen to come forward. It makes this so much easier,” he said. “I have noticed you don’t particularly care to be sharing this lovely room with the others.”

  Isabelle turned and smiled confidently at the other slaves, narrowing her eyes with satisfaction. She held her breath in anticipation, convinced he was selecting her to move into his room, or at least receiving a room to herself. She risked a seductive smile at him and was confused by the cold eyes glaring back.

  “I’ve given you to Master Chayton. Other than a serving girl and cook, his other slaves are male, so I’m sure this will work out better for you.”

  Isabelle’s face registered her shock and confusion. It had taken almost a year for her to orchestrate her position, and now he was tossing her away. “No,” she stammered, totally bewildered by his decision to exile her. She knew she was unequivocally the most attentive slave the Master owned, and Isabelle scrambled for a way to remind him of the pleasure she provided him. “Please, Master Constantine. You must know my only wish is to make you happy. I don’t understand why you would think I’d be more content with a different Master.” He continued to glare at her and she started to back up, rattled by his unexpected decision and trying to get her bearings.

  Constantine gripped her arm in a strong hand and raised her to her feet. Isabelle felt the uncomfortable sensation of trembling fear, an emotion she had not experienced since she had awoken in the cell in the dungeon after her abduction. Master Constantine looked her straight in the eyes and hissed, “Foolish slave, I don’t give a damn if you’re content or not. Your disruptive scheming has upset my lovelies long enough, and I’ve asked Master Chayton to take you as a favor to me. Although he may have no use for you personally, I feel sure you will be kept busy with the other six males in his house.”

  Isabelle was delivered into the strong hands of the woman in charge of her new Master’s kitchen. She had been moved from Constantine’s beautiful harem quarters into a small room beside the kitchen that she shared with the other serving girl, and her pretty harem dress was replaced with a simple slave shift. Within days, Isabelle had cowered the mousy girl into doing most of her work. She had not, however, managed to escape her other duty: tending to the insatiable sexual needs of Chayton’s slaves.

  Isabelle learned the new Master was seeking a woman to complete his relationship with his lover Ayden, and she was determined to gain the position. If Ayden and the Master kept her for personal service, she would no longer be used by the house slaves when she was not busy cleaning and helping the cook. Isabelle watched her handsome new Master and decided she preferred him to Constantine, and was convinced it would be easier to gain his notice without a harem of women sniveling for attention,

  She quickly ascertained the way to Master Chayton was through his lover. It had taken weeks for Isabelle to figure out Ayden’s schedule and catch him alone, because the shy blonde man seemed to have no interest in her. He was constantly with Chayton, and Isabelle seethed with jealousy. The new Master had not even bothered to meet her, and all but ignored her on the few occasions she had managed to get close to him. His attention was persistently focused on Ayden, and she decided he was a complication to her plans. Isabelle decided she would ultimately separate the two men and become the Master’s sole companion.

  Isabelle dreamed of the handsome man laid out next to her at night. Chayton maintained the proud looks of his Indian ancestry and was well over six feet tall. She imagined curling up against his bronze, muscled chest and running her fingers through his silky black hair. She would gaze into his eyes while she kissed his full lips. Erotic dreams of seducing him left her insanely aroused by morning, and she would close her eyes while attending one of the house slaves, pretending she was servicing the Master.

  Isabelle employed her scheme, assaulting Ayden with cautious flirtations when she managed to find him alone. She pleaded with him to introduce her to Chayton, with suggestions that she could make up for Ayden’s shortcomings in fulfilling the Master’s desires. Ayden became nervous, and depression shadowed his features as the new servant girl convinced him he was unable to satisfy his lover. She reminded him that no slave’s position was secure, and the auction was less than six months away.

 
Chayton noticed his lover’s distress and Ayden reluctantly admitted Isabelle’s insinuation that he was not able to please him. Chayton was furious that the meddlesome girl continued her manipulations at his estate. Constantine had warned him of her scheming, and he thought he had kept her too busy tending to the cleaning and house slaves to be disruptive. Chayton consoled Ayden and told him to bring Isabelle to his office. She was correct in her assumption that there was one way Ayden could not satisfy his needs, and if the conniving young woman wanted his attention, he certainly had a use for her.

  Isabelle confidently accompanied Ayden to meet with the Master and begin her devious attack. She employed seduction with the right amount of submissive innocence and concern for Ayden and the Master’s pleasure, leaving no doubt as to her willingness to complete the threesome Chayton desired. She had experienced two men at once with her service to the house slaves, and Isabelle thought she knew what she was getting into. She was not overly concerned with the tryst, because her plan was to remove Ayden from the picture as soon as possible.

  Isabelle smiled when Master Chayton confided to her Ayden was indeed unable to meet all his needs and he was pleased that she was so willing to ensure his pleasure in the areas his lover was lacking. Then, the Master dropped a bombshell as to the exact nature of the void in their relationship she would be fulfilling. The Master’s pleasure from her would involve a considerable amount of bondage and pain, as Ayden had absolutely no threshold for his Master’s sadistic desires. Chayton would not consider bringing another male into their bed, so they had agreed they would find a female who could satisfy his needs.

  Isabelle plotted a way to work this to her advantage, knowing if she declined the offer, she would remain a house servant until she was sold at the off-island auction in November. She anxiously waited for Master Chayton’s summons, trying to calm her fears.

  The training had been going on for two weeks, and Ayden’s avoidance of her bothered her less than the fact that she had yet to be called to the Master’s bed. She continued to sleep in the small room off the kitchen, and Isabelle was frustrated that Helo had not been told to have the other slaves stop using her.

  The only time the Master had called for her, she was brought down to the dungeon to painfully endure the powerful man’s talent with the whip. During these encounters Ayden looked on impassively, completely focused on Chayton’s reaction. As each session ended, the Master would reach between her quivering thighs, look back towards his lover, and shake his head in disappointment while the sobbing girl wailed her displeasure.

  Isabelle realized she was failing some test, but her attempts to seduce him sexually had been ignored. She was sure if he had her in his bed just once, Ayden would be the one being lashed and she would be wrapped in the Master’s arms at night.

  When the Master sent for her earlier, she could feel a change in the dungeon. She tried not to look panicked as she approached the chains, stealing a caustic glance at Ayden. He was sitting on the bench, watching Chayton’s magnificent form in his tight black leather pants as he prepared to secure her.

  Soon, Isabelle was hanging by her wrists, once again crying and begging him to stop whipping her. She bounced on her toes trying to escape the bite of leather. “Aaayee,” her terrified, pained screams echoed off the concrete walls.

  “Isabelle, count,” Chayton ordered.

  “Stop, please. Oh god, please stop.” Her back felt like she had been stuck with a thousand needles. She had lasted three light strokes, which had left the slightest of pink marks across her back and bottom.

  Chayton walked up to the trembling girl and reached between her spread thighs, finding her once again dry and unaroused. He tossed the whip onto a bench and sat next to Ayden. Running his fingers through his long black hair in frustration, he stated flatly, “This isn’t going to work.”

  Ayden sat quietly, continuing to watch beads of sweat travel down the girl’s trembling back like tears of admission of her failure. He put his hand on Chayton’s thigh, stroking and comforting. “Master, she’s not the one. We both know it.”

  He put his hand over Ayden’s. “Yes, we both know it. We’ll find someone. Get Helo and tell him to put her in a cell.” Ayden silently rose and left the chamber.

  Isabelle began to sob. “Please Master, don’t send me away. I’m trying. Really, I am. If only you’d let me please you in bed.” She panicked, knowing this was her last chance and she had failed.

  Being dismissed from two of the Masters’ estates guaranteed she would be put up for auction. She knew the other four island Masters would not consider her, and she would be passed to the off-island slave-trader in November. From there it was the brothels, where no amount of seduction or sly maneuvering could save her.

  “You should not have tried your games on Constantine.” Reading her mind, he continued, “And yes, you are right. This was your last chance.” Chayton felt no pity for the young woman. He had been doing Constantine a favor by getting her out of his harem.

  “As far as having you in my bed, I have Ayden.” He noticed her tearful eyes narrow, and Chayton laughed incredulously. “You didn’t really think you would replace him, did you? What was it you told Constantine’s harem? Ah, yes. ‘You would soon be Mistress of the estate and you would remember their transgressions’,” he chuckled. “Your devious ambition has put you in a bit of a bind, as it were.” Chayton ran a finger down the chain securing her wrists for emphasis.

  Ayden returned with Helo and walked towards his Master, leaving Helo standing by the door with his big brown hands behind his back and his eyes down, waiting to be acknowledged.

  “Helo, take Isabelle to a cell and see to it she is cared for,” Chayton ordered.

  “Yes, Master.” The big man barely contained his smile as he moved towards the weeping girl, and Chayton and Ayden left the chamber. He ran a finger down one of the light marks and whispered, “Screwed it up, didn’t you, girl?” Isabelle flinched.

  Helo had picked her up a month ago from Master Constantine’s harem and had an immediate dislike for the cunning girl. He was responsible for keeping the house in order and had watched Isabelle push all her chores onto the serving girl since her arrival at Master Chayton’s estate. Helo pulled the girl aside and asked her why she was letting Isabelle dictate to her, and she nervously replied that Isabelle was going to tell the Master she was not doing her job and that she had been stealing food. The threat of being sent to the auction was enough to sway the poor girl.

  One of Helo’s responsibilities was scheduling tasks for the other five male slaves. A new task Helo scheduled was the sexual use of Isabelle in any manner the men desired, and he would chuckle when she was side-railed several times a day from her pursuit of Ayden. It was not unusual to find her down on her knees with a cock deep down her throat or bent over a chair with someone in her pussy or ass. Slaves had to orchestrate their own amusements, and the men appreciated their new ‘task’.

  Helo guided Isabelle down the basement hall and sequestered her in one of the dark cells. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure the slaves are going to miss you.” Helo was still laughing as he headed upstairs.

  Isabelle’s mind worked feverishly as she struggled to come up with a plan to improve her situation. Her bottom itched from the welts Master Chayton lashed across her ass and shoulders a few hours ago in a final attempt to arouse her, and she cautiously adjusted her seat on the small cot. The cruel man was insane if he believed any woman would desire such treatment.

  Ayden’s boyish face flashed through her thoughts, and she wished she had something to throw against the metal bars of her cell. She felt he had tricked her into believing she had a chance to end up in Chayton’s bed, knowing the Master only wanted to use her to handle the submissive tortures Ayden could not bear. The Master knew his lover found no passion in his sadistic games and never forced him to be subjected to them. With no tolerance for the Master’s erotic tortures, Isabelle had failed to please him and found herself in a
dangerous position.

  Her fingers traced one pink mark, renewing her anger. The only time the Master touched her was to chain her to the post and apply his leather whips and floggers to her naked body. If he had allowed her one chance to entice him and bring him to the trembling heights she was so adept in coaxing from men since she discovered the benefits of her seductive abilities, Isabelle would be able to convince him to keep her instead of confining her in this dank concrete cage beneath the house. Her eyes narrowed in irritated frustration as she imagined Ayden enjoying his Master’s cock, while she had never been permitted to show him her skill in bed. The only time the sadistic Master desired her was for use as a whipping post.

  Isabelle was still bewildered at the turn of events that had caused her to be exiled from Master Constantine’s comfortable harem and sent to Master Chayton’s estate. Her mind refused to believe the manipulations that had worked so well in high school and college had failed so miserably with these arrogant men. She pouted and adjusted the short lavender harem dress Helo had handed her to put on when he locked her in the small room hours ago. The last sound Isabelle had heard was his laughter as he walked towards the stairs.

  She looked through the bars into the dimly lit hall, half expecting to hear Master Chayton’s heavy footsteps echo off the cement floor as he made his way down the corridor to tell her he had re-evaluated his decision to send her away. Nothing could be heard from the rooms upstairs, but these were the cells and the dungeon areas. The Master had them reinforced, assuring his guests would not be disturbed. Her eyes darted up at an imaginary sound and slowly dropped back to the floor when she realized she was still alone.

  Isabelle wondered if the harem dress meant she was to be returned to Master Constantine, and thought perhaps he might be bored with the half-assed attempts of the other women to please him and remembered her skill and attention to his desires. An attempt to rebuild her position with Master Constantine was the only plan she had come up with to escape the imminent fate of the off-island auction. She would not try to console herself with the consideration that another of the Masters would be willing to take her after two dismissals.