by Jenn Marlow
That was one condition she definitely hadn’t looked over or even thought about. She knew that she was to have no contact with her family or friends during her duration of the contract, but damn, it somehow didn’t register that she couldn’t keep her phone. She sighed, defeated, before angrily reaching into her pocket to retrieve it.
“Thanks for opening the door,” she spat sarcastically and trekked towards the front door without even being told. His brows had furrowed in confusion before she walked away, and she liked that she could at least challenge him despite all that happened. Despite losing her right to be herself, she still had the ability to be herself.
And as herself, she had nothing to say. At least not to the likes of him. And that silence had created quite the awkward car ride, but damn it all if dinner wasn’t even worse. The maid had placed them each at the head of the table and the table was fucking long. They were what seemed like miles apart—which was perfectly fine with Alex—but was strange, nonetheless.
The dinner consisted of several courses, none of which she could pronounce, but it was tasty. He was refined in demeanor, and his good looks increased when his manners were highlighted. Why on earth he had to buy women was still beyond her. And though he wasn’t ugly in appearance, Alex couldn’t stand to look at him.
She wasn’t sure what she expected—if she had even thought about it that far—but it definitely wasn’t this. She wasn’t sure if she would have been more comfortable with some fat old geezer, much like Mr. Gresky in appearance, or not. But she felt that at least the whole buying-women-shit would have made some sort of sense. This…this made no fucking sense.
“After dinner, I’d like to be fucked,” he said.
She nearly choked on her food. What sort of lead-in was that? Had he been completely desensitized to anything and everything since he began buying women? What in the actual fuck? “Ok, either you’re just really lame or you’re a major asshole; you can pick,” she replied, before chugging the rest of her water. And the darkness of his eyes, as his look intensified, told her that it was the latter.
He was a dick. Hell, she still didn’t even know his name. “I don’t even know what your name is bro,” she continued, before taking a huge mouthful of food into her mouth. She still didn’t know what it was that she was eating; it could have been like a fucking horror movie, and she could have just as easily been eating human meat and she wouldn’t have even known it.
“It’s Roland. Roland Peters,” he said shortly, obviously not wanting to give her too much information. And then there it was; the dude was distant. “I’ll let this go this one time, but I expect to have what I paid for next time,” he continued, wiping his mouth and stomping off.
She had to admit, she felt accomplished watching him stomp out of the dining hall and around the corner. She had actually convinced a man that bought her to not try and have sex with her; that had to be some sort of record. She smiled and took the final drop of her water into her mouth before the maid came rushing in.
“Mr. Peters told me to show you to your room,” she said, a little too-upbeat for Alex’s taste, given the situation. But then again, did she even know the situation?
The woman was short and Latina, and she was seemingly kind-hearted for the most part. It almost seemed to window through her sweet puppy-dog brown eyes. She had short black hair, with streaks of grey running through the front. She was older—probably in her late fifties to early sixties—and as she walked, she could tell the job made her young.
The house was huge, and Alex felt herself growing a little exhausted as they rounded halls and climbed a mountain of stairs. She was confused by the layout and didn’t heed any of the information or advice the older woman had provided her. Hell, she figured she’d be there for three years, so there was plenty of time to figure it all out.
“So what does Mr. Peters do for a living to live in a place like this?” Alex asked, genuinely curious about her buyer.
“Ah, he’s a consultant,” she replied. “None of us are really sure what that means, but he works downtown in a very large building.”
And there it was, he worked downtown. Obviously, no matter how long she felt she was in the car, he had to live somewhat close-by. If he worked downtown, he’d have to be close to the city. And then she wondered, had he driven in fucking circles to confuse her of her location?
“How far is this from the city?” Alex asked, trying to be more pleasantly curious rather than frustrated and overly inquisitive. “I felt like I was in the car forever.”
“About forty-five minutes with traffic, I would say,” the maid replied, and Alex wondered if he had tried to confuse her, or if—with her eyes closed—it had just seemed like an eternity, but she decided to ignore it. It didn’t matter now.
They finished ascending the last flight of stairs and the woman stopped her three doors down. “This is you,” she announced happily. Alex smiled in response; she refused to believe that this woman knew anything about her boss’s actions.
“Thank you…” Alex realized she had not yet asked for the woman’s name. She was embarrassed. “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”
“Maria,” she replied, a wide smile forming on her face. “None of the others ever ask for my name.”
Alex felt even worse. “Others?” she asked, hoping the woman didn’t know.
“Yes, all of Mr. Peters other girlfriends…well, ex-girlfriends, I would say.”
She wanted to laugh. Maria thought all of the women he had likely purchased were his girlfriends, but then again, maybe Alex didn’t know him at all, maybe he had actual girlfriends too. She couldn’t be sure, and she knew one thing was for certain…she should never assume. Not in a place like this.
“Do you like Mr. Peters?” Alex asked.
“Yes, he’s great!” Something in Maria’s voice was strange, and Alex knew that she hadn’t been completely honest with the statement. Out of fear, she was likely keeping her true feelings to herself. Alex knew that, and she didn’t want to make the woman think she was putting her job at jeopardy, but she had to know. The test of a man’s character was in how he treated his servers. She had to know who she was sharing a roof with.
“Honestly?” Alex’s eyes glistened with the need to have the answer questioned before she could just enter her bedroom. And she knew that Maria would see how much the knowledge meant to her. She only hoped that the woman was as empathetic as she had originally thought.
“He’s…he’s OK,” Maria said, and Alex knew she was being truthful. “I’m a little neutral as of late. But he’s not a mean man.”
The woman was indifferent.
That indifference was confusing.
“One more thing, I didn’t just eat human remains did I?” she joked and the woman broke out in a fit of laughter.
“Goodness no! It was beef!”
Chapter 10
Another awkward silence seemed to overtake them, and she felt the tension in the air. He was upset about last night, and she was still surprised he let it go so easily. She didn’t want to have sex with him. She knew what it meant to be owned and to be a sex slave; she really knew what it meant. But somehow, she was still in complete denial.
She wanted to believe that Roland wouldn’t hurt her, but she knew otherwise. You didn’t become the kind of man that bought women as slaves for being kind and generous. He wasn’t kind. He wasn’t generous. He was evil; and she knew that. He was just as coarse and rough on the inside as he was on the outside, and it chilled her bones to know that she was sharing a roof with him for three years.
As her fork clanked against the emptying plate, she knew that dinner would soon be over, and she would soon be asked to partake in an act she didn’t want to engage in, with a man she almost already despised.
He took a sip of wine, like he had all dinner, but this time his movements were slower and more intentional. He sat the glass down gently and further away from himself than he usual. “I wish to bed you tonight,” he said simply an
d quietly. There was almost gentleness in his voice, but Alex knew it was all bullshit. She scoffed.
Who would say something like that? It almost seemed like he was kidding at first, but as soon as he spoke again she knew he wasn’t. “You know, my previous slaves were very happy here. You’re very fortunate. It could have been a lot worse than it is; a really bad person could have bought you. You realize that, right?”
He sounded defensive to a degree, but more than anything he was acting like a salesman pitching a product. Only in this situation, he was the product. He was pitching himself to her, and she wasn’t quite sure how to take it. So, instead of taking it any way, she decided to take it no way it all; she decided not to respond; hell, she decided to ignore it completely.
She took a sip of her own wine, but not as politely and slowly as he had. Instead, she grabbed it gruffly, like a man in a tavern, and chugged it in a single gulp. She slammed the glass onto the white linen covered table.
“You know, you can continue to be an ungrateful little cunt, or you can just listen and learn from the past women who lived here,” he was replying to his rude little student. She was rude, but she didn’t care. In fact, that was the point of it all.
“Oh, do tell me about your captives,” she spat sarcastically in response before grabbing her fork again and taking inappropriately large bites. She was sure to chew with her mouth open and with as much sound as she could possibly make. She didn’t want to make it very arousing for him. In fact, she would be perfectly happy if he hadn’t found her attractive at all.
“Oh – thanks for asking, I will,” he smiled. “My first purchase was this small little Jewish woman named Naomi. She now lives in Boston with her three children and husband. She was contracted with me for only one year and was able to pay off all of her student debt and now lives happily ever after in the suburban soccer-mom life she always dreamed of.”
He rose his glass as if in cheers, and she rolled her eyes. He could tell her he contracted a three legged woman named Lucky and when she sucked his dick gold came rushing out, but it didn’t make it true. She wasn’t going to believe a word that the man that sat in front of her had to say.
She kept shoveling in the food: steak tips—cooked to a perfect medium rare—so juicy and flavorful, and potatoes au gratin. It was one of her favorite meals, but there’s no way she would ever tell him that.
“The second woman was a curvy and vivacious little number named Liberty. She had to pay off a hefty bit of gambling debts. Now, she owns a casino in Las Vegas,” he kept speaking, and she kept getting this overwhelming desire to throw her unfortunately empty wine glass directly at his fat egotistical head. “Now, I’m not one to judge but I don’t believe that’s such a good idea. But she's wealthy and around what she loves—so whatever.”
“I get it, I’ll be well taken care of,” she spat out, a few particles of potatoes flying out of her open trap as she did. “So you can just stop. I understand.”
The truth was, she knew what it was. She knew she would have to get down to business soon enough, but she wanted just a little leniency. She wanted him to shut his mouth and not feel the need to sell her on it. He repulsed her; his mind and body oozed with a disgusting aura that she wanted no part of.
“Great, then take your clothes off,” he gestured to his chest and did a little motion with his finger. It was as if to instruct her to remove her top, and she laughed out loud. Men were despicable creatures, especially this one. She had been there for a whopping twenty-four hours and he hadn’t even asked her what her first name was. And in truth, that was what bothered her the most.
It wasn’t the fact she had to fuck him; she had known she would have to when she signed the contract. Sex slave meant fucking sex slave, but it was the fact that because of her newfound title and this rude egomaniacal master of hers that she was almost dehumanized. It was like she no longer had a first name; it was like it didn’t matter.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t even know my name and you’re going to just request that I take my clothes off? Fuck off!” Her tone sounded repulsed and disgusted; and for good reason…she actually was. But as soon as he stood, his eyes narrowed like lasers and she realized her mistake. It was no longer her place to be outspoken. It was no longer her right; she had completely abolished those rights.
“I’m not sure what you think this is, but I own you,” he said as he slowly and deliberately moved away from his seat. He pushed the chair into its resting spot beneath the table. His movements were polite and quiet. If she didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t have even fathomed that he was angry. By his movements, so calm and collected, it was impossible to tell.
In fact, the only way she knew otherwise—that he was really pissed off—was in the expression of his face. It wasn’t in a scowl as one might originally anticipate, but it was the mere fact that it was devoid of any real emotion that was truly frightening.
He rounded the table, his gaze on her form. He didn’t speak as he approached, and when he finally reached her, she felt herself begin to shake. She was—for the first time—scared. She was scared for her life. “You’re basically like my fucking prisoner now; you eradicated every single right that you once had to disagree with me.”
His face got closer to hers as he spoke, and she could feel the spit spew from his mouth as he scorned her in a whispering anger.“You now agree with everything I fucking say, and if you have a fucking problem with it, then I’ll go to Gresky about your disobedience. Not only that, but I will fucking ensure…”—he seethed so intensely he had to take a breath—“…ensure that you and everyone else in your poor, miserable life is left to rot in the slums that they likely dwell within. Do I make myself fucking clear?”
Tears began to stream down her cheeks, as he directed his anger directly at her. She was afraid, not only for herself but for her brother. She was now sure—more than she had been before—that this man could and would hurt her. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would have to give in.
“This time, Alex,” Roland hissed, acknowledging her name after all. “You can’t back down. You can’t win this. I want what I paid for. I tried to be nice. I tried to let you feel like a guest, so that you could feel a little more comfortable. This time…you’re going to do what I fucking say.”
“Fuck off, Roland,” she spat. It was the first time she had ever actually spoken his name aloud, and it oozed off of her tongue with hatred and she knew that he caught it. Because as soon as she said those words, he lunged closer to her face and breathed an angry, seething fire into her face. The heat caused droplets of moisture to formulate on her skin. His menacing face was almost too terrifying to fully grasp in her wildest imagination, but she had to stay strong; she couldn’t let the tears flow as rapidly as they threatened. Her resolve was a dam, but it was crumbling, and behind it was a river of tears that threatened to destroy her with rapid fury.
“I mean it. I paid for you,” he whispered angrily, grabbing her cheeks roughly. “Get on your knees.”
“Fuck you, Roland,” she spat again, trying to shake herself away from his firm grip. But as soon as she shook her head away, he tightened his grasp over her cheeks, causing more discomfort than she had anticipated. She had never said his name before, and as soon as it oozed out of her mouth, she regretted ever saying it. She knew she had spoken the name of evil; and though she wanted to think otherwise before, she was getting a fair reminder.
“I’m not kidding,” Roland said. “You aren’t getting out of this anymore.”
She wanted to fight it. “Fuck you,” Alex said again, at something of a loss for a witty comeback.
“Oh, no, Ms. Miller. Fuck you.” Roland laughed, taking his hands away from her face. She knew it wasn’t a release from his evil attempts. She knew it was only beginning.
“You’re going to just take it, like you do everything else then?” Alex said, eyes darting around the dining room. Everyone else had gone, even the cook and the maid. S
he was alone with him. She would have been lying if she said she wasn’t scared; but she didn’t want to make it easy on him. How dare he pay for women for his own selfish gain? He had so much going for him; he wasn’t just some fat, greasy, disgusting, rich man. He was gorgeous. He was young. He was successful. He could have any woman he wanted without having to pay for them; so she had to wonder why he paid for them. She wondered if it was because he didn’t want to try, because just buying it was easier than earning it. That had to be it, she thought. Roland had never earned anything in his life. Why earn this? Why start now? He was sick. It was obvious.
Alex shook her head away from her thoughts and onto the man so empty of morale standing before her. His eyes were empty and cruel; and his face was devoid of any emotion, except for anger. He wasn’t used to insolence. He wasn’t used to not getting his way.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he protested. “I bought you. Paid for you. I earned you.”
He let her face go and backed away from her slightly. His face softened a bit, and she felt in that instance as if she was looking at another man. In the blink of an eye, his demeanor had changed so dramatically that he seemed almost like a totally different person.
“It’s time to pay your debts, Alex. Get on your knees. Just do what you’re supposed to do and this will go a lot easier,” he said, with a hint of defeat in his voice. She wasn’t sure if he was genuine, or if he thought it would just be easier for him if he softened himself around her. She wasn’t sure what he was, or who he was; but she wasn’t sure he knew either. His voice was like steel, strong and sturdy, but it also held a small regard that she couldn’t recognize. It was something almost shameful. It was like he was ashamed of himself for some reason, but it didn’t make sense as to why. But then, as she contemplated the emotions he projected, his eyes narrowed in frustration and anger once again. It was then that Alex felt her knees weaken. She sank down, ashamed, not daring to look at him.