Free Martyrs (Forced by Consent Book 3) by Amanda Close

The missive had been cryptic in its simplicity and demanding in its brevity, and so, dutiful as ever, Tae Ware found himself preparing to leave the interior of the House and seek his destiny upon the grounds.
     
    WHEN THE FIRST SNOW FALLS
    STALK THE FOREST PATHS AT MORNING BELL
    PUNISH WHAT YOU FIND THERE
     
    Tae had received the missive while he slept, the message having been typed on House letterhead and slipped under his door. That was nearly a month ago, and since that time Tae had took special notice of the weather. Winters were hard in upstate New York, especially for Tae, who was a Louisiana man born and raised. He had been a servant in the House of Red and Black for nearly three years by the time the missive reached his eyes, so he knew well that the first snow was a peculiar and magical event in this region. This morning, just like every other morning since his initiation, Tae’s finely tuned biological clock roused him from sleep, and he set himself about his morning routine. Discipline was everything for the servants within the House, and he had taken to it with enthusiasm.
     
    The large African American rose from his bed, drained the glass of filtered water on his nightstand, and swiftly made his bed. He wore nothing but his matte black boxer briefs, and before removing those and donning his uniform of shirt and boots he went through a short warm up routine of push ups, crunches, high knees, and jumping jacks. It paled in comparison to the alternating daily exercise regimens expected of the men who resided within the House, though it did serve to get his blood pumping and his chiseled body fully roused from sleep. Tae’s small chamber had a shower, toilet, and a simple cabinet for his clothing. Once he had gone through his morning routine of voiding, bathing, and shaving, Tae dressed.
     
    He had set the missive on his sink, so that he would see it every morning, and remember to look out his small window to check for snow. Tae fastened two wide leather bracelets to his wrists, both of which contained small packets of the highly advanced lubricants that the black shirts used during their daily sexual encounters. The bed sisters were completely under the control of the black shirts once they set foot outside of their chambers, and so it was up to the men to manage the use of lubricant throughout the day. Tae was a rather well endowed man, his penis when fully erect measuring at just over ten inches, and so on more active days he did have to refill his applicators.
     
    Tae thought of the young brunette bed sister, Natasha, as he clasped his bracelets in place. Already the thought of abusing her gorgeous body was stirring his desire. Tae reached down and gave his cock a few gentle tugs as he pleasantly recalled the vivid memory of dragging her through the mud and punishing her tight little cinnamon swirl not two months ago. The only thing better than beating opponents senseless in the ring was sexually abusing willing beautiful women. It was the single most wonderful experience of his life, and his member positively throbbed at the continuous realization that this was indeed his life.
     
    He imagined that all black shirts had similar “mirror time” before exiting their chambers, as like Tae the other black shirts had found their way to the House of Red and Black thanks to similar obsessions. If ever there was a BDSM varsity league, Tae knew he was on the team.
     
    As Tae turned towards the window and began using his hand to wipe away the fog from his steamy shower he told himself that he must avoid Natasha today. Tae had taken the day prior to remain in his chambers and spend the time meditating and fasting. He knew that attachment to the bed sisters was a constant risk, and when a black shirt began to feel the emergence of emotions concerning one or more of the women it was up to him to eliminate those feelings. There was an inexplicable bond between two human beings who had sex with each other, made even