by M Never
I open the door, and she jumps frightfully on the bed, withdrawing into a naked little ball.
“Ah, you’re up.” I saunter toward her, and she recoils. “There, there,” I coo, pulling on the chain attached to her collar fastened to the vining iron part of the headboard. I will admit, Kayne’s lecherous fantasy translates well into real life. Ellie is absolutely appetizing completely bare, collared, and chained helplessly to the bed. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?” I muse. “No wonder Kayne wanted you. Come here.”
“No. Who are you?” She fights me. Kayne was right; she is frisky.
“Jett.” I yank harder, forcing her closer to me. “I’m your keeper.”
“I don’t need a keeper. I need to go home!” she screams.
Oh no. We can’t have outbursts like this. I grab her face, inspecting her features closely. “Sweetheart, the only place you’re going is into the shower.”
“I took a shower last night,” she snaps bitterly.
“It’s time for another. You also need to be groomed.” That bush needs to go.
“Groomed! I’m not an animal!” she flails outraged.
I clutch her face more tightly. “Technically you’re owned, so you’re the equivalent.”
Infuriated tears threaten.
“Ellie. I will tell you this once. Cooperate with me, or I will tie you down and spank you until you do.”
“Is that my life now? Beating after beating?”
“It doesn’t have to be. But you have to listen, and do as Kayne and I say.”
“Do I belong to both of you?” Her words are sharper than a butcher knife.
She should be so lucky. If she belonged to me, the word spoiled would take on a whole new meaning in her vocabulary. But alas, Kayne ordered hands off. Which totally bites considering I share women with him all the time. Even ones who mean more to me than the sun.
“No. You’re just Kayne’s,” I clarify. “But I do have the authority to punish you if you don’t behave. So, what’s it going to be sweet thing? We can be friends, or we can be enemies. It’s up to you. Personally, I’d like to be friends. It will make things easier for everyone involved.”
She only stares up at me. Deliberating maybe? After a few drawn out moments I nod, then pull out a set of keys from my pocket and unlock the padlock linking the chain to the collar. She just sits until I tell her to move. “Bathroom?” I point.
Ellie gets up and walks into the adjoining room, attempting to cover up as much of her nakedness as she can. I smirk behind her. Silly little kitten.
“Good girl,” I praise in a condescending tone. I shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as I am. Once in the bathroom, I turn the shower on. “We’ll groom you first, then breakfast.”
“Groom?” she repeats curiously. Those big green eyes are a damn killer. I’ve spent five minutes with the girl, and I already know why Kayne is infatuated with her. She’s adorable, sexy, feisty, and has the spirit of a strong-willed submissive in the making.
“Mmmm hmmm.” I pull out a table from the linen closet and open it up.
“What’s that for?” she asks untrustingly.
“You’ll see.” I pull the key ring out of my pocket again and unlock the wide collar, removing it from her neck. She immediately rubs her sore throat. Thick training collars like this one take a while to get used to. “In you go.”
She steps into the stone shower and allows the water to continuously cascade over her skin. She’s stalling.
“Wash,” I strictly instruct. Ellie sticks her tongue out at me as she turns for the soap. Seriously? “I saw that.” I can’t hide my amusement. If I wasn’t about to inflict pain in an ulterior way, I would bend her over and spank the spunk out of her right there in the shower. Kayne is going to have his hands full with this one, I can see it already. And I can’t wait to watch the show, as fucked up as it is.
“Done,” I announce, opening the door and turning the water off. “Hey!” She immediately jumps and covers herself. Please. I pull her arms away from her chest. “Get over the modesty. And get used to being naked,” I state bluntly. Clothes are a thing of the past.
“Why?”
“Because that’s how Kayne wants you.” I wrap her in a towel and dry her off with a bit of a massage. See? I’m not all bad.
“Why me?” she asks forlornly.
“He has his reasons.” I work the towel up to dry her long golden hair.
“I wish someone would share them with me.”
“You don’t need to worry about his reasons. All you need to do is what you’re told.”
“What if I can’t be submissive? Then what?” she challenges.
“I don’t think you want to know,” I divulge. Kayne may care about her, but he’ll do what he has to do to make her submit. He wants her obedient for her own good, and he knows there may be lines he’ll have to cross to reach his desired outcome.
Ellie’s lip quivers. “He’s going to hurt me, isn’t he?”
“Not if you listen,” I try to hint.
“What does he want from me?” she demands with her emotions bubbling over.
I shoot her an I think you know look. “Don’t be naïve, Ellie. It doesn’t become you. You know exactly what he wants.” Your obedience, your submission, your body. “You’ve been acquired as a sex slave.”
“Don’t use that word!” she screams with her head in her hands, tears bursting from her eyes. “I can’t do this. You have to let me go!” she sobs.
“Shhh, Ellie.” I wrap her in my arms and calm her. This is the part that’s going to kill me. Seeing her suffer. It’s a necessary evil. But I solemnly swear, I’ll never let her hurt alone. She’s one of my girls now. “You can and you will.”
“Why?” She cries into my shoulder.
“Because—” I pull away and look down at her with compassionate eyes. “Listen to me, Ellie. You need to trust Kayne. I know that might be hard, but he’s doing this for a reason.”
“How can I trust him?” she asks in turmoil. “He puts a collar on me and forces me to walk around naked. And soon . . .” She wipes her watery eyes. “Soon . . . I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“The only thing I can tell you is things aren’t always as they seem.” It’s the only thing I say without giving anything away.
Ellie searches my eyes. “What does that mean?”
I merely shake my head. “Trust Kayne.”
I know. Easy for me to say.
“Enough talk, Ellie. It’s time to be strong. Lay on the table.” We need to get things moving.
“What are you going to do?” She sniffs.
I glare with a pseudo-annoyed expression. She can’t think I’m a total pushover. “Here’s your first lesson in submission. Don’t ask questions, don’t talk back, and do as you’re told.”
She frowns.
“Now go, or I’ll force you down and tie you to it.”
Her wide eyes tell me all I need to know. She’s buying my bullshit. Ellie lays on the table, naked with her hair still damp, clearly
beside herself. I’ll try to do this as quickly as possible. For both our sakes. “Pull your knees up and spread your legs. Put your hands over your head,” I order. She does as I instruct, panting nervously.
“Breathe, Ellie.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks again.
“Wax you.” I smear the warm, sticky wax all over her pubic hair, and she flinches. I haven’t done this in a long time, so I hope it’s just like riding a bike. For her sake. “Don’t move.” I continue to cover the applied wax with strips of cloth.
“Have you ever had a Brazilian before?” I attempt to distract her as I rip off the first strip.
“No!” she shrieks as the scalding pain burns her skin and tears run out of her eyes.
“First time for everything.” I rip off strip after strip, until she’s completely bare. Mm, I steal glances of her little pink clit peeking out of her smooth, puffy folds, restricting myself from soothing the irritated skin w
ith my tongue.
Ellie would be a fun doll to play with, but I know Kayne would kill me if I broke the lock to that toy box.
I’ll behave.
For now.
“Aloe.” I show her the green blob on my fingers before I apply it to her sensitive skin. She’s so incredibly soft now. Kayne is going to lose his fucking mind.
“Up you go.” I take one of her hands and help her to stand. She’s a little wobbly on her feet.
But we’re not done yet.
“Turn around and rest your hands on the table,” I continue. “Are you on any birth control?” I ask clinically.
“No, why?” She looks over her shoulder as I pick up the syringe. “Good.” I stab her in the ass.
“What is that?” She tenses and grits her teeth as the needle penetrates her skin.
“Depo-Provera,” I inform her, and the realization as to why she needs birth control hits home. She starts to hyperventilate.
“Ellie, calm down.” I rub her back. Jesus. I want to tell her that it’s more dangerous for her out there than it is in here, but instead I just continue to comfort her. “You need to eat.” She’s barely had a full meal in days. She’s dehydrated, traumatized, and things are only going to get worse before they get better. I lead her back into the bedroom and urge her weary body onto the bed. “Lie down. I’ll be right back. Is there anything you’re allergic to?”
“No.” She cries into the pillow, distraught. Seeing her like this breaks my heart. Knowing I’m partly responsible breaks my spirit.
Speedily, I head down to the kitchen where I know Donovan, the chef I employ, is cooking away.
“The redhead has been in my kitchen again.” The French chef is a bit territorial about his space. Donovan has been with Mansion for years, preparing lunches and dinners for me, Kayne, and the girls. He’s a godsend when he’s not in a snooty mood. Which he seems to be at the moment.
“Yes. She likes to cook. It’s therapeutic for her. Get over it,” I dismiss his gripe. “Can you whip me up something light?”
“Right now?” He’s holding a large, silver mixing bowl filled with batter.
“Yes, right now,” I forcefully request.
Donovan drops the bowl on the counter. “I work for you, so I guess the answer is yes.” He puts up his nose, affronted.
I roll my eyes. I am surrounded by challenging personalities. I lean against the island as Donovan floats around the kitchen.
“Are you just going to watch?” he asks rudely as he cracks an egg into a bowl.
“Yes.” I glare threateningly at the patronizing Frenchman.
He frowns apprehensively as he cracks another egg. That’s right, man, I’m not in the mood for your attitude today.
All of ten minutes later I have a beautiful plate of scrambled eggs and a side of toast.
“Thank you.” I cover the serving platter with a silver dome lid.
“You’re welcome. Tell the redhead to stay out of my kitchen!” His accent flares behind me as I power walk out of the room.
“Never gonna happen!”
In no time, I’m back in Ellie’s room. She’s in the exact place I left her. A pile of troubled bones on the bed. I drop the tray on the table situated under the large wagon wheel window before I force her to get up and eat.
“Time for breakfast.” I lift the lid to reveal the scrambled eggs and buttered toast. “Eat it. All of it. It will make you feel better.”
Ellie stares at the food with puffy eyes, and her stomach rumbles loudly. Standing over her, I watch her finish every single thing on the plate. Once I’m satisfied, I cover the dish then lift the platter off the table. I unfortunately can’t spend too much more time with her. I have a business to run and other girls to look after. Luckily, with Ellie finally out of her cage, Kayne can split his attention a little more evenly between her and Javier. Maybe now that all the dust is settling, we can finally set up the critical meeting with El Rey like we’ve been promised.
“I’ll be back later to get you ready.”
“Ready?” she repeats anxiously.
“Try to relax, Ellie. You’ll need your strength for Kayne tonight.”
She looks up at me callously.
“Retain that frame of mind, Ellie. Remember what I told you. Strong.”
I leave her with that bit of advice before locking her in the room.
SOMETHING ISN’T RIGHT.
And it hasn’t been right for days now. The climate of the house is off. Tense.
Jett is hovering more.
Kayne is grumpier than usual.
And their new house guest has done nothing but put us all on edge. Especially Jenna. He seems to be fixated on her. She’s the only one he requests, and every time he does, we end up hiding out in a nook in the library so she can lick her wounds. I beg her to stop going to him, but she just keeps insisting that it’s her job. She should be able to handle it. I don’t know what she’s trying to prove. And I don’t know why Jett won’t intervene. But I’m close to taking matters into my own hands. I can’t just stand by and watch someone I care about be hurt the same way I was. Not when she has a choice.
Jenna doesn’t seem to understand just how important free will is. And I don’t want her to learn that lesson the hard way. After it’s already been taken away.
I heard a woman screaming a few nights ago, and after interrogating each and every one, the girls swear it wasn’t them. I badgered Jenna the hardest, but those big green, innocent eyes have me believing it wasn’t her. When I asked Jett about it, he shrugged it off, claiming he had no idea what I was talking about. But I heard it. Loud and clear, and I swear she was screaming Kayne’s name.
I know I shouldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but my instincts are clamoring. Something isn’t right, and I have to find out what it is.
So I’ve been stalking Jett, following him around the house as stealthily as possible. If there’s one thing I learned from my father, it’s how to sneak around. I was his biggest secret, and he knew how to keep it that way.
For the last two days, Jett has been disappearing into an obscure client room on the third floor several times a day. It’s located on the far end of Mansion, removed from busy foot traffic. I watch from a distance in the long, dark hallway with purple carpet and hand-blown chandeliers as he unlocks the door and slips quietly inside. My curiosity has gotten the best of me, so I boldly tiptoe up to the door and press my ear against it. What’s in there? I have to know.
The wood is thick. Solid, so I can barely hear a thing. But I’m determined to prove my suspicions right. Something is very wrong.
There are muffled voices, of that I’m sure. And one definitely sounds like a female’s. I listen for a while, desperate to make out anything I can of their conversation. It’s futile, though. The oak is just too damn thick. Stupid old house. Just as I’m about to give up, the hinges squeak and I come face to face with a startled, and frankly peeved, Jett. I get a second-long glance into the room before he slams the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses.
“Snooping. What do you think you’re doing? Who is that? Why is she in there? Is it a new girl? Is that who was screaming the other night?” Jett slaps his hand over my mouth and pushes me up against the wall.
“Shhhh . . . She’s no one.” My eyes widen. I know all too well what that means.
Jett removes his hand after a few heated, pulse-pounding moments. Every organ in my body droops with disappointment.
“Tell me what’s going on.” It’s not a request, it’s a demand.
“What’s going on has nothing to do with you.” It’s the first time Jett has ever honest and truly chastised me. The reprimand stings, but it doesn’t dissuade me.
“If there is a girl being held against her will in there, it has everything to do with me.”
Jett exhales restlessly. “London.” His tone is firm but soft.
“Jett, tell me. Things aren’t right. They haven’t
been right for days. I thought it was just me after everything that happened, but it’s not. You’re tense, Kayne is tense, and look at what’s happening with Jenna. Everything feels like it’s unraveling.”
“It’s not unraveling. At least not yet,” he cryptically testifies.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” he doesn’t clarify.
“Who’s in there?” I press again. I have to know.
Jett stares me down, conflicted. A war of contention battling in his blue-green eyes.
“She’s Kayne’s,” he finally discloses.
“What?”
“She belongs to Kayne,” he reiterates slowly, to aid in my comprehension.
Realization hits me in the face like a sucker punch.
“She’s a slave?” My voice elevates three octaves.
That sparring look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.
“Why does Kayne need a sex slave?” I hyperventilate. “He has a whole house full of women he can fuck. Who will do anything he asks. He has me.”
Jett grimaces. He doesn’t like that factoid one bit, but it’s the truth.
“It’s complicated,” is his pathetic explanation.
“Then un-complicate it,” I demand, tears welling in my eyes. “After everything. After knowing my past. Knowing what Alistair did to me, you’re condoning this?”
Heart-wrenching does not begin to describe how I feel.
“London.” Jett grabs my arms and pins me to the wall. “There are things happening under this roof that are beyond your understanding.”
Beyond my understanding? Did he just insult my fucking intelligence? I understand just fucking fine.
“What things?” I clench my jaw, indulging in my anger.
“I can’t tell you, but you have to trust me.”
“You know how hard trust is for me, Jett. Especially after finding out what I just did. I’m not even sure I know who you are.”
Jett’s pretty aqua eyes flash with something distressing and hurtful.
“I’m exactly the man I was the first day you met me. I’m exactly the man who pursued you, and protected you, and cares about you. I will always be that man.” He shakes me lightly. “And right now, I’m protecting and caring about the woman behind that door, too.”