Eden Bradley’s iconic kink stories GIRL, BOY and MASTER in The Training House Series are available now in print as a Box Set! YAAASSSS!!!
Pleasure in pain…pain in love…
They come to the Training House to become immersed in the most powerful and extreme form of submission: absolute slavehood. It is only in this formal environment, and under the strict rules of their slave contracts, that their immense yearnings can be satisfied. Or can they?
Aimée arrives with a pure slave’s heart, never expecting to find more than the fulfillment of a frightening and necessary sexual journey. Christopher has returned, as he always does. The baddest of bad slaves, he never truly expects to find anything beyond a temporary release. And then there’s the Master… Master Damon owns the Training House. His is a life of carefully followed rules, the extremes of deviant and sensual creativity, and the heavy weight of responsibility. The Training House is a dreamworld where needs are denied and met at a Master’s whims. But what happens when these rigid roles become fluid, and love is suddenly part of the game? Anyone could win—or everyone could lose it all.
WARNING:: These books contains material that may be difficult to read about and/or cause triggers for some readers. Do NOT try this at home!
In those breathless moments between pleasure and pain lie the most poignant truths…
I have signed myself over to The Training House: my devotion, my obedience, my body. It is what I have always yearned for—to lose myself in powerlessness. To be made to. But this place is more than anyone could possibly prepare for, especially the Master of the House. He is too stunning, too commanding, bringing out a yearning for submission in ways I have never imagined, and I am lost in nearly unbearable desire. He uses my body until he brings me to tears, then tenderly wipes them away, enslaving me to him instantly, body and soul.
I cannot imagine existing without him, without his wicked touch, his strict and sensual command…
Until I meet another slave, and he changes the game of kink for me forever. How can I decide what my heart wants most, without risking losing it all?
Being broken has never been such beautiful torture…
I am Christopher. I am most specifically not called Boy in this exclusive slave training arena where every submissive male is known as ‘Boy’. They don’t let me retain my identity—they make me. They keep me in my head, in my body, no matter what they’re doing to me, because they know I require it. They call me brat. They call me rebel. These terms are far too bland to describe what I really am. I am anger in chains. I am seething sexual animal. I am the worst kind of fuck-up.
The Master loves me. Maybe only because the level of my misbehavior challenges him to come up with new and terrible punishments. Do I sound proud? I am. I also love him, in my way. It’s a strange dynamic, one that has never been disrupted by anyone. Until I saw the new Girl.
Fresh-faced and indescribably lovely. Burning alchemical reaction that threatened to consume me the moment I saw her. I will call her Aimee. I refuse to play the Master’s games. Because for reasons I don’t understand, she is instantly more to me than any of the other Girls. What will she think of me? The ultimate anarchist. The keeper of secrets. The unbreakable one. Why do I even care? All I know is that I do. And that this Girl could ultimately be the one who finally breaks me.
(Seriously, you don’t want to miss this!)
It’s the ultimate surrender…but can the Master truly become the slave?
I am no longer the Master, but simply Damon. I am reeling with shock. Love. The urgent desire to please the only man who could ever Master me—the wickedly beautiful Christopher. I know this because he once belonged to me. How do I cope with this unexpected, yet inevitable turn of events? How can I give myself over in the way a slave must? Perhaps because I must, in order to have him. And it is the only way to be with our sweet Aimée.
She is our love, and her heart belongs to us both. My new Master claims to love me, but I doubt him. Even more, I doubt myself. I must find a way, and the path leads me there only through complete and utter submission, subjugation, handing over my soul. If I fail, I lose them both. A more cruel torture has never been devised. My heart breaks already, and it’s only just begun.
Read an excerpt from GIRL
He walks into the room and I don’t know where to look, what to do with my hands, what to say. Of course, I’m not supposed to say anything, am I? But even if I could—even if I dared—he is simply too overwhelmingly beautiful.
I didn’t expect it—didn’t expect him. My bare feet shift on the soft Persian rug, the wood floor beneath creaking like a quiet sigh of pleasure. Taking in a quick, gasping breath, I inhale the scents of aged wood and plaster, the papery smell these old San Francisco Victorians have. Scent and sound were all I knew until a moment ago, when someone removed the blindfold from my eyes. I know the city I’m in, but not where, exactly. I am not supposed to know. And now I know what the man I have been sold to looks like. My new Master. The man I would have served with deep devotion simply because he owns me, because this servitude is what I want—what I need—but who now is making me dizzy with indescribable lust and expectation.
He must be six-foot-four, with broad shoulders under a dark blue button-down shirt. European tailoring—the shirt fits his shoulders and his narrow waist too perfectly to be anything else, which I recognize right away from my time in Italy, Spain and London with my previous owner. A small stabbing ache in my chest at that thought, but I focus on the shirt, on the man before me, and the pain drifts, fades away.
His sleeves are rolled up, revealing strong forearms. There is a tattoo of a Japanese style dragon curling around his right arm—a symbol of power, which suddenly, inexplicably, seems funny to me, if only because this man’s power seeps from every pore and needs no sign of proof. I let out a small, stupid giggle. Unable to help it. Helpless. Perhaps that’s why the giggle.
Or perhaps because the giggle is more from relief, the knowledge that my desire for pain, for punishment, will soon be sated.
He raises one dark brow over eyes that gleam like pure, blue fire in the dim light of the room. His voice is a low threat. Upper class American accent. “You find me amusing, girl?”
Girl. Is that to be my name in this place? Not Aimée? Why does that frighten me so when this is everything I’ve asked for? To be rendered invisible in a way I choose.
A flash of my father, his back turned to me. How many times did that actually happen, and how much of it is purely symbolic, when in fact, I hardly ever saw him? But I don’t want to think of all that now. I am here to forget. To forget my past. To forget myself. To immerse myself in this powerlessness that is of my choosing.
Still, it occurs to me for one moment, sharp with the edge of panic, that maybe I should have read the contract more carefully before I signed it.
“Speak up,” he demands.
“Nerves?” There’s a long pause—long enough to make me feel the truth of what he’s suggested down to my toes, in my belly, in those dark, dark recesses of my mind that brought me here to begin with.
“Of course you’re nervous,” he goes on. “If you weren’t I’d send you back. I don’t take foolish girls. I don’t take a lot of things, but you’ll find out about that soon enough.” He steps closer and even his earthy, spicy, elegant scent frightens me, partly because he smells so good I want to drop to my knees before him—need to—which scares me half to death. “What I will take…is you. Whenever I want. I will do whatever I want to you. And any time you doubt why you’re here I will find a way to remind you. I will remind you through pain. Through denial. Through darkness. I will remind you by giving you exactly what you asked for when you agreed to come to my house. The Training House never fails its…victims.”
I’m shaking now, my legs trembling so hard they’re about to go out from under me, and then I will be on my knees, like it or not. I will like it, which I already know. I am also drenched with desire, my pussy slick and pulsing, which should not be surprising, but it is. Every single detail about this moment is shocking to me.
He steps closer and I look up at his face, knowing this may be the last opportunity I’m allowed. And God, his eyes are so, so blue—midnight blue, eyes like I’ve never seen before. His hair is dark and the slightest bit unruly. His jaw and cheekbones are sharply cut, as if from stone, and his mouth is both lush and cruel. I want to touch it, with just my fingertip. I don’t dare even think of kissing him. Oh, but I am a liar; I do think of kissing him. I think of that mouth between my thighs.
Neither of those things is likely to happen in this place.
Torture already, and I’ve just gotten here.
Eden is currently working on HANDLER, Victor’s story! Stay tuned to her website, FB pages or Twitter for updates! More stories from The Training House coming soon! Eden has plans to write Mistress Alexa’s story, and *possibly* Gilby’s-she’s had a few requests for him, which has surprised her…and if you don’t know why you’ll have to read GIRL to find out!
Eden wants to thank all of you who have read and supported this series! If you’d like to have your copy of The Training House signed, come see her at the Ripped Bodice book store in LA on October 23rd, when she’ll be participating in a big indie author signing! Details on her website!
About the author
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author Eden Bradley writes dark, edgy erotica and erotic romance for Berkley Heat (as both Eden Bradley and Eve Berlin), Bantam/Delta, Harlequin Spice and HQN, and Samhain Publishing, as well as indie publishing. Two of her books have been Romantic Times Top Picks, and her novel FORBIDDEN FRUIT was profiled in Cosmopolitan Magazine’s Red Hot Reads column in 2008. More recently her BDSM book THE DARK GARDEN hit the top paperback fiction charts in the UK. She has received or been nominated for numerous awards, including the Holt Medallion and the Passionate Plume, and several of her books have been RT Book Reviews Top Picks. Her books have been translated into German, French, Romanian, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, Czech, Polish, Indonesian and Japanese.
As someone who has been involved in BDSM practice for much of her adult life, she relates in particular to her BDSM and kink stories, infusing them with her own truth about kink practice from her life experiences.
Eden has appeared regularly on Playboy Radio’s ‘Night Calls’ and the Hollywood In the Flesh readings. She loves art, shoes, tattoos, her Boston Terrier puppy, reading smutty books, chocolate and sex, of course, not necessarily in that order.
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