She read on the caption below the picture.
Desire Island is a private island located in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Bring your deepest held fantasies to life with one of our professionally-trained Dominants or submissives. We cater to all orientations and BDSM lifestyles, from casual play to a 24/7 intensive Master/slave connection. How far you go is up to you.
With your first step off the boat, the fantasy begins…
Imagine if she actually won. Serious play with an authentic Dom would be a welcome change from the amateurs she scened with at the clubs. She wouldn’t have to fend off assholes like Lord Evil. And all that against the backdrop of a luxury resort on a private beach. Why hadn’t someone come up with this idea sooner?
The back of the brochure had a pricing schedule. Her fantasy of a dream BDSM vacation receded fast. She couldn’t afford even the cheapest option, which cost more than she grossed in a month.
But if she won…
“Melanie,” Pete called from the stage. “It’s time. Bring the basket, please.”
“Wait,” Skylar cried. Though she knew she shouldn’t, she reached into her gear bag and pulled out another ten-dollar bill. “I’ll take one more ticket.”
Melanie took her money and handed Skylar the stub to the ticket and then dropped the final ticket into the raffle basket. “Good luck,” Melanie said as she carried the basket to the stage and handed it up to Pete.
A lot of people had gathered around the stage to watch the drawing, though just as many continued to scene at various stations around the large, dimly-lit club. Skylar stayed where she was at the bar. Master James had joined Rhianna. He stood behind her stool, his hands proprietarily on her shoulders.
“Ooo, I’m so excited,” Rhianna giggled nervously.
Skylar said nothing. She placed her two tickets on the bar, barely able to breathe. She closed her eyes, willing herself to let go. She couldn’t let the BDSM gods know how much she wanted this. They were sadists, after all, who would take great delight in dangling the prize in front of her, only to snatch it away…
“And the winner is”—Pete made a show of rummaging in the basket, tossing the tickets like a salad with his fingers—“Ticket number one-oh-six-seven-eight-three.”
Skylar stared down at her tickets. The first ticket was nowhere close. But the ticket she’d just purchased was… No. No way! No fucking way. What had he said? Her entire body went hot and cold at once. She had to have misheard.
“That’s one-oh-six-seven-eight-three,” Pete repeated. “Do we have a winner?”
Skylar picked up the ticket, her heart thudding in her chest. “Yes,” she squeaked, waving the ticket in the air. “It’s me. I won! I won! Oh, my god, I won!”
Chapter 2
From: [email protected]
RE: Congratulations from Desire Island
Dear Skylar,
Congratulations on winning a free one-week, all-inclusive BDSM vacation on Desire Island. We received the copy of your physical indicating you are in good health and have no limits on physical activity. That’s terrific news, since it means you qualify for any of our featured vacation packages.
These range in intensity level from an introduction to the sensuality of BDSM, all the way to a 24/7 Master/slave full-immersion experience. Please click on the link below to review the package details and determine which one is right for you. You will be sent a detailed questionnaire based on the option you choose. Please complete the questionnaire and return it at your earliest convenience. We will tailor a dream BDSM vacation designed just for you.
Looking forward to hearing from you. Let the fantasy begin…
Regards, Mistress Ella
“Desire Island? Is that one of our clients?”
Skylar quickly clicked out of the personal email, heat licking her cheeks and throat. She should have waited until she was out of the office to open the damn thing, but it had been too tempting to wait.
Swiveling in her desk chair to face her boss, she prayed her blush wasn’t too obvious. Hopefully, he’d only had time to read the subject line and no more. “No, Mr. Connor. Just some junk mail. How are you this morning?”
“Just dandy doodle,” he replied annoyingly. “I got your email about taking two weeks of vacation.” He paused for a dramatic frown. “You sure you want to take that kind of time off right now? I was just reviewing the new client numbers. Bob and Mike are killing it. You need to get out there and hump it, little lady.”
Skylar had no desire to hump anything. She didn’t care if Bob and Mike were beating her in the new client ratings. They could have them all, as far as she was concerned.
She had prepared for his objections. “Marie in HR said I have to use my remaining vacation time by the end of August or lose it. And August is a slow month, so I figured it made sense to use the time. Then I could return refreshed, ready to hit the road, pound the pavement and make some tracks.” She tried hard to keep a straight face as she parroted the trite phrases that were standards in the boss’s rah-rah-team weekly pep talks to “the troops.”