NoBounds

Ann
Jacobs

Exiled for being caught in an underground
BDSM club back home, Master Cole Callender has a plan—to build a resort on
planet Obsidion where Earthlings can indulge in BDSM practices forbidden on
Earth…a pleasure planet where no sexual practices are taboo.

When beautiful, submissive Amber joins him
on Obsidion, Cole resolves to make her his own. First, though, he must conquer
not only the evil Dom who wants her but also Amber’s deep sense of
worthlessness—so he can finally bring her to pleasure without inflicting
serious pain.

A Romantica®
sci-fi/futuristic erotic romance
from Ellora’s
Cave

The year 2150, Federation of Earth

The manager met him at the door of the
underground club and jerked him inside. “I’m sorry to have had to drag you
here, Master Cole. I know you don’t come to the clubs anymore, now that the
governing council has outlawed them, but I saw Mistress Ciel and Amber come in
and take a private dungeon. When Master Dax got here a little while ago and
told me they were expecting him to join them, I figured there was likely to be
trouble.”

The sort of trouble that got BDSM clubs
shut down in the first place
, Cole thought sourly.
“It’s all right. Not your fault. You can’t be expected to keep an eye on my
sister and her friend 24/7. How long have they been here?”

“About two hours.” Ellen sounded apologetic
as she hurried them down the stairs to the underground levels. “Master Dax only
got here about forty minutes ago. That was when I called you—as soon as I
realized he intended to join them.”

Cole mentally refreshed his memory about
the layout of this club, which occupied the basement and sub-basements of an
old garment factory. As he recalled, there were only two exits, the one at
ground level through which he’d entered and an emergency escape route through a
hollowed-out tunnel accessible from one of the lower tiers. At least one club
employee always manned the main door to look out for the Federation police and
hopefully warn patrons in time for them to escape through the tunnel in case of
a raid.

That was unless the cops had discovered
both exits. In that case, everyone inside would be trapped like the rats that
most likely lived in the dank, dark nooks and crannies of the ancient building.
The place definitely reminded him of a dungeon, but not the kind he preferred, set
up for the type of pleasure a certain amount of pain might bring to one’s
submissive partners.

This dungeon was more like ones that had
been used centuries ago, during the Inquisition, when pain had been all about
pain, not pleasure. It was about fear. Sweat and blood.

He quickened his pace as the sounds of
flogging and cries of submissives grew louder. “How much farther?”

“All the way down, Master.” Ellen started
taking the steps two at a time, as though the agonized pleas and screams were
getting to her too.

Cole wanted to strangle his crazy sister.
Why the hell had she gotten it into her head she could top Master Dax? Idiot!
The vicious Dom was a known sociopath, a fine example of the type of BDSM
practitioners that had gotten the lifestyle outlawed. Incredible, he thought,
that a woman who’d aced every course at the university could be so completely
lacking in common sense.

By outlawing the sex clubs, the Federation
in its so-called wisdom had inadvertently given vicious Doms like Dax free
rein, since all clubs were now illegal and thus unregulated.

A high-pitched wail pierced the dense,
fetid air of the narrow stairwell. Cole charged toward the sound. An image of
Amber’s sweet face, her large eyes and soft pink lips, flashed in his mind.
Bile bubbled up in his belly and nausea threatened to overtake him.

A result of anxiety, not rotten food. His
concern was more for Amber than for his headstrong sister, who had brought her
fate on herself. If Ceil was trying to fulfill a death wish, that was one
thing. But to use Amber to lure Dax into her lair? Cole couldn’t forgive her
for endangering the gentle, submissive woman who’d been his childhood friend.

He pictured Amber bloodied and
bruised—maybe worse. “Fuck!” He’d kill the bastard if he had injured her, no matter
how insignificant the damage might be. “Which room?”

“That one, Master Cole.” Ellen gestured
toward the heavy, iron-laced wooden door to their right.

Kicking the door in, the first thing Cole
saw was Amber, bound to a St. Andrew’s cross. He followed the path of a cane as
it whistled through the air and hit her breasts with a sickening thud. Blood
streamed from cuts on her shoulders, her belly, her thighs. Tears stained her
cheeks, mingled with blood where the cane had just struck.

When Dax raised the cane again, Cole
charged in. “I’m gonna kill you, you sadistic son of a bitch.”

Amber blinked through her tears. Cole had
come to save her. She could hardly believe it. For the past year he had
apparently wanted little to do with her. He’d even quit taking the time to do a
little casual flirting with her when he ran into her and Ciel around his
father’s house.

What would Cole do if he knew how she
missed those times? She’d replayed those moments over and over in her mind,
pretending she’d seen something more than casual affection for his sister’s
friend in his smiling eyes.

Could he possibly have known how often
she’d hoped he would someday invite her and Ciel to one of his parties? In the
old days, when his preferred club had been open, she had eagerly gone there
with Ciel just so she could watch him. She’d wished that she could have taken
the place of whatever sub he’d had on her knees, lovingly servicing his big,
rigid cock.

The two men crashed into the wall, sending
equipment clattering to the floor and slamming her back into the present. Cole
seized a flogger off the wall, then caught the cane when Dax swung it at his
face.

If only she could get free, she could help
him. She could…

I’ve got you now, you bastard. I’ll flog
you to within an inch of your worthless life.

Cole slammed a foot into the center of
Dax’s chest, then raised the flogger and laid it across the other man’s bare
thighs. Dax let out a stream of obscenities.

“You don’t much like it when it’s being
done to you, do you, you sadistic prick?” Cole raised the flogger again but
Ciel came out of the shadows like a madwoman.

“Leave him alone,” she yelled, struggling
to get control of the flogger just as the door flew open and the chamber filled
with cops. “He’s mine.”

“Back off, Ciel.” Cole dropped the flogger.
“And try to act like a victim.” There was no chance that he could save himself,
but with luck he’d be able to keep the police from taking his sister and Amber.
“Oh shit, here comes a TV crew.”

He whipped around and faced Amber, trying
to block her from the reporters’ cameras so they couldn’t get a shot of her
naked, bleeding body. Dax and Ciel both wore concealing masks. His own face,
however, would be out there on the six o’clock news for everyone to see. There
was nothing he could do about that now.

As a cop clamped the cuffs on him and
dragged him away with Master Dax, Cole tried to imagine a scenario where he
would come out of this smelling like anything but leftovers from last week’s
fish dinner.

Nothing came immediately to mind.

* * * * *

Eight hours later, Cole sat on the hot
seat—a leather chair in front of Federation Commissioner Alan Callender’s desk.
He didn’t blame his scowling father, who had bailed him out of the local lockup
to the tune of ten thousand credits and God only knew how much political
capital. Cole made himself focus on a spot beyond his disappointed parent’s
left ear.

Since graduating from the university, Cole
had worked hard with Alan at his various businesses. In that way, at least,
Cole was certain he’d made his father proud. In less than five years he had
taken several startup concerns and turned them into successful businesses, as
well as reviving some older endeavors and making them yield profits again.
There was only one thing—his lifestyle—that had always given his father reason
for concern.

Cole didn’t kid himself. Alan knew he was
into BDSM. He also knew that Cole had given up club play since the council had
declared them off limits.

Alan probably even had a good idea that
Cole’s sister was the reason he had gone to the illegal club. Ciel had never
made any effort to hide her disdain for the law, and their father often found
it necessary to extricate her from the trouble she courted nearly every day.

Alan looked Cole in the eye. “This is a
difficult situation, son. I’m thinking there’s only one choice for you, other
than imprisonment.”

Cole made a feeble attempt at levity. “I
didn’t realize there was any choice at all.” He attempted a smile, failed. “I
thought I was destined to have a prison job for the next five years.”

“No. Not even if I have to collect on every
bit of political capital I’ve accumulated.” Alan paused for a moment, then
continued, “You know, you’ve amassed an impressive portfolio yourself while
running my companies the past few years. And you’ve earned every credit. You’re
a sharp businessman.”

Right then, Cole didn’t feel very proud.
“I’m afraid that what I did tonight doesn’t reflect well on me. Or you.”

Alan shook his head. “Treating the women as
helpless victims was a clever stroke. You knew their identities wouldn’t be
revealed that way, and only your name and that of the other man would be
involved. I’m not such a fool, though, that I don’t realize you got into this
mess because of your sister.”

Ciel? In his mind, Cole saw Amber and felt
the pain that had radiated from her, from every bleeding welt that Dax had
caused with his metal-tipped cane. She’d been a helpless victim—not only Dax’s
but also Ciel’s.

Not for the first time, Cole wondered what
motivated Amber to allow such extremes to be done to her without availing
herself of a safe word. “What are my choices, Father? What will help you the
most?”

“It’s not about me, son. It’s about you.
And exile is the choice. Permanent transportation off planet Earth.”

“What?”

“I can arrange for you to be sent to
Obsidion. There’s been talk of letting private investors turn it into an
off-world pleasure resort.”

Excitement caught Cole up for the first
time since his arrest. “I could open a club there.”

“That’s what I was thinking. You could
capitalize on the fact there are many Earthlings who espouse a lifestyle that
is no longer acceptable here. I imagine a man with your business acumen could
create a resort that would allow BDSM aficionados to indulge their inclinations
safely. A place that might allow fathers like me not to worry quite so much.” A
hint of a smile played on Alan’s otherwise somber face.

“I could build a resort.” Cole pictured not
just the upscale sex club that had first crossed his mind, but a full-fledged
vacation paradise. He envisioned a glitzy complex including a five-star hotel,
restaurants, casinos and nightclubs featuring imported talent from Earth. His
off-planet paradise would boast all the draws of Las Vegas before the
Federation had taken over but with the added attraction of the open, guilt-free
practice of the BDSM lifestyle. “I like the idea.”

That prospect certainly beat spending the
next however many years in prison. “I believe I’ll start out by building the
kind of club that will attract the more desirable elements of the lifestyle,
then start on construction of the resort.”

His father nodded, his expression sobering.
“I will miss you, but going to Obsidion is the best choice for you now that
you’ve run afoul of the ruling council. I hope you will find the happiness that
has eluded you lately. Perhaps I will send Ciel there too. You managed to save
her from arrest this time, but if she stays here, sooner or later she’ll be
caught.”

It terrified Cole to know that when his
sister went down, Amber would most likely be dragged along with her. “If you
send her to me, I’ll do my best to take care of her. Father, I’m sorry.”

“You will not be as sorry as I, for I will
miss my youngest and dearest child.” Rising, Alan circled his massive desk and
held out his arms to Cole. “Perhaps someday I will visit Obsidion and try to
comprehend what it is about BDSM that makes people risk their freedom here on
Earth in order to practice it.”

Cole hugged his father, hard. “And perhaps
one day I will return here, if the ruling council should decide to concentrate
on matters of more importance to the state than regimenting its people’s
personal lives based on its narrow beliefs about what is right and moral.”