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Authors: Kitty Thomas
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meaning?”
“The game has changed. You will come see me the same days as before. No money will exchange hands. Instead, you will do whatever I ask you to do for the hour and a half you’re in this room.”
“Sex?”
He couldn’t have been more clear if he’d spelled it out on a billboard with bright, flashing lights. And yet, she had to hear the full confirmation that he was truly asking her to whore herself out to him. She could barely remember how this had started.
He held her gaze and nodded. “But more. When you are in this room with me, you will address me as Sir . Do you understand?”
The moment the word Sir left his mouth, the feeling between her legs turned into an unbearable ache she somehow knew only his hands, mouth, or cock could soothe away. She nodded quickly, not giving herself time to think and chicken out.
“Answer.” His voice was harsher than she’d ever heard it.
Her eyes jerked up to his. “Yes, Sir.” She paused a moment, then said, “What about Janette? She takes a payment from me every week. What will she think?”
“Janette thinks what she’s told to think. Don’t worry about what she thinks. Just sign in, and come to me. Now, put your purse down, and come here.”
Vivian looked down to find she was clutching her bag in her hand, her knuckles turning white. With some difficulty, she managed to pry the thing out of her grip and place it next to the door. He held out a hand to her and she moved toward him.
Her mind spiraled into an abyss of endless questions and second-guessing. Why am I doing this? I can still leave. He didn’t lock the door. Is this really even about Michael at all? What difference will sex make at this point? Is it an affair, yet? Am I the victim if I keep making the choices? I could have worn a wire and caught him blackmailing me the second time. I could have turned him in.
I still can.
Her head was spinning suddenly with the evidence of her own complicity in her demise. Which was easier? Being the victim? Or being the whore? Somehow she hadn’t been able to erase either role from her psyche.
“Do you need a few minutes to think about this? At this point, it is your decision. You can walk away. There will be consequences, of course, but that is still your choice. You could even attempt to press charges against me, if you felt so compelled.”
Did she want to press charges? He’d opened her up and made her body feel things again, things she’d missed so long she’d ceased recognizing the dull ache of longing that seemed to never leave the center of her chest. Until this.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you want, Vivian?”
“You. But it’s wrong.”
“Why is it wrong?”
“You’re a horrible human being,” she said, wondering if the question had been rhetorical and feeling foolish now that she was sure it had been.
“And you’re a pure little virgin? Untouched. Unspoiled. The perfect victim? You could have left after our first meeting.”
“I would have lost Michael.”
“Does that matter to you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re making a bargain with the devil. I will ask increasingly more from you as time goes on. And you will give it to me. You might lose your soul in the process.”
“I think it’s a little too late for that.”
“We are not a couple,” he reiterated.
“I know that. I don’t want to be a couple,” she said, truthfully. She would never love Anton, but it didn’t stop her loving his hands on her body.
“Lock the door and come with me now, or leave.” He turned and crossed to the door at the other end of the room. The door she’d thought had been a bathroom.
Vivian trailed after him, equally scared and aroused both by what she was doing, as well as by what he might do. It seemed as if the ground underneath her had split apart. She felt herself crossing into another territory, one where she accepted it was her decision to follow him down this increasingly sinister rabbit hole, knowing the stove was hot,
“The game has changed. You will come see me the same days as before. No money will exchange hands. Instead, you will do whatever I ask you to do for the hour and a half you’re in this room.”
“Sex?”
He couldn’t have been more clear if he’d spelled it out on a billboard with bright, flashing lights. And yet, she had to hear the full confirmation that he was truly asking her to whore herself out to him. She could barely remember how this had started.
He held her gaze and nodded. “But more. When you are in this room with me, you will address me as Sir . Do you understand?”
The moment the word Sir left his mouth, the feeling between her legs turned into an unbearable ache she somehow knew only his hands, mouth, or cock could soothe away. She nodded quickly, not giving herself time to think and chicken out.
“Answer.” His voice was harsher than she’d ever heard it.
Her eyes jerked up to his. “Yes, Sir.” She paused a moment, then said, “What about Janette? She takes a payment from me every week. What will she think?”
“Janette thinks what she’s told to think. Don’t worry about what she thinks. Just sign in, and come to me. Now, put your purse down, and come here.”
Vivian looked down to find she was clutching her bag in her hand, her knuckles turning white. With some difficulty, she managed to pry the thing out of her grip and place it next to the door. He held out a hand to her and she moved toward him.
Her mind spiraled into an abyss of endless questions and second-guessing. Why am I doing this? I can still leave. He didn’t lock the door. Is this really even about Michael at all? What difference will sex make at this point? Is it an affair, yet? Am I the victim if I keep making the choices? I could have worn a wire and caught him blackmailing me the second time. I could have turned him in.
I still can.
Her head was spinning suddenly with the evidence of her own complicity in her demise. Which was easier? Being the victim? Or being the whore? Somehow she hadn’t been able to erase either role from her psyche.
“Do you need a few minutes to think about this? At this point, it is your decision. You can walk away. There will be consequences, of course, but that is still your choice. You could even attempt to press charges against me, if you felt so compelled.”
Did she want to press charges? He’d opened her up and made her body feel things again, things she’d missed so long she’d ceased recognizing the dull ache of longing that seemed to never leave the center of her chest. Until this.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you want, Vivian?”
“You. But it’s wrong.”
“Why is it wrong?”
“You’re a horrible human being,” she said, wondering if the question had been rhetorical and feeling foolish now that she was sure it had been.
“And you’re a pure little virgin? Untouched. Unspoiled. The perfect victim? You could have left after our first meeting.”
“I would have lost Michael.”
“Does that matter to you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re making a bargain with the devil. I will ask increasingly more from you as time goes on. And you will give it to me. You might lose your soul in the process.”
“I think it’s a little too late for that.”
“We are not a couple,” he reiterated.
“I know that. I don’t want to be a couple,” she said, truthfully. She would never love Anton, but it didn’t stop her loving his hands on her body.
“Lock the door and come with me now, or leave.” He turned and crossed to the door at the other end of the room. The door she’d thought had been a bathroom.
Vivian trailed after him, equally scared and aroused both by what she was doing, as well as by what he might do. It seemed as if the ground underneath her had split apart. She felt herself crossing into another territory, one where she accepted it was her decision to follow him down this increasingly sinister rabbit hole, knowing the stove was hot,
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