by Regine Abel
I popped the meat in my mouth, waiting for the storm to hit. Grace clenched her jaw. Some truths needed to be said for her own good. Whatever the outcome of our current agreement, hitting the reset button on her career was a sound investment. With proper training and the right show, she could be a top selling act in one of my VIP lounges.
And she would be.
“Ah… So the real Grace is too trashy for Mr. Anton Myers? You don’t want to be embarrassed by my performance?”
“The real Grace is exactly who Anton Myers wants. The Grace you project isn’t her and yes, she’s too trashy. I don’t want my pet walking around with her ass and tits spilling out for every bastard to gawk at.”
The hurt in her eyes didn’t move me.
“We fool around for one week and you know me better than I know myself?”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin then casually discarded it on the table. “It is my business to read people; to see them for who they truly are, their potential and what makes them tick. You, sweetheart, are so starved for attention, you do whatever you think will bring you the most of it, over what you personally want.”
Grace snorted, shaking her head. I leaned forward, my gaze seeking hers, but she looked away.
“I was there at the boutique with you. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you tried on the outfits that spoke to the true Grace. Each time I asked you which clothes we should take, you pointed to the ones that excited you the least but showed more skin.”
“That’s not true!” She glared at me, her knuckles white from holding her utensils too tight.
“Really? You’re going to tell me you didn’t love that bare-back silver dress or the blood red one?” She didn’t answer – didn’t need to. The way she averted her eyes spoke volumes. “You passed on them because they weren’t skimpy enough to draw the kind of attention you’re used to.”
Grace pushed away her half-eaten breakfast.
“You’re doing the same thing with your singing career; being who Marcus told you to be, rather than who you want to be.”
“And who would that be, since you know everything?” Her voice dripped with resentment.
“You want to be courted by places like Risqué. You dream of red carpet treatment, where people scream your name and faint with excitement over your touch. You hunger for the kind of respect and deference women like Seria and Sheila get wherever they go. But Peter won’t give you that.”
Grace’s anger slowly abated as I spoke, her eyes full of longing. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at me.
“That doesn’t happen to girls like me.”
“There is no such thing as a girl like you,” I said, gesturing for her to continue eating. “You are yourself, period – not whatever label anyone wants to give you. And if you want to prance in the elite circle, take the steps to get there.”
“As if it was that simple,” she said, nibbling on a triangle of toast.
“Nothing is ever simple, especially things that are worthwhile,” I said in a conciliatory tone. “And nothing is ever guaranteed either. But with hard work—”
Grace frowned.
“Yes, Grace, with hard work, you have a chance to achieve your goals. And even if they don’t reach the height you were aiming for, you will still end up in a much better place than where you started.”
Looking dejected, Grace dropped her half-eaten toast on her plate and crossed her arms. “What kind of hard work?”
“First, you need a vocal coach to get your voice in shape. You thought Seria was good, yet she has nothing on you, other than training. Then a stage presence coach so you learn how to enthrall your audience like a singer, not a stripper. At the same time, you will start preparing a show that puts your audience’s expectations first. That means, researching and analyzing your audience.”
“Man, you sure are all work and no play. You’re right; I want the glitz and glamor. However, I don’t want to become you. Sure, you’re all kinds of rich now, but you never relax and you never have fun.”
“Oh, but I do make time to have fun. In fact, we’re going to the grand opening of Sade tonight,” I said, keeping my expression neutral.
“Oh wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming. “Everyone here is bending over backward trying to get tickets for it. I bet you’ve got VIP tickets with a private booth.”
“Naturally,” I said, spreading a generous layer of cream cheese with chives on a piece of toast. I took a large bite from my toast and leaned back in my chair.
“I can’t wait to see it. I hear it’s wild in there.”
“So the owner claims. I will have very special guests accompanying us tonight,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Braxians. The heirs to the leaders of some of our most prominent clans.”
She poured herself some orange juice. “Ok.”
“You will be nice to them.”
She paused pouring juice, her eyes snapping to mine.
“How nice is nice?” she asked.
I held her gaze. “Extremely nice.”
Her face shut down. She put the bottle of juice down and sagged in her chair. She pinched her lips, her chest heaving. “I’m not fucking some random Braxians.”
My voice hardened. “You will do whatever the hell I tell you to do. And if sinking their cock in your cunt is what those Braxians want, you will bend over, spread those creamy thighs and take it. Understood?”
She shook her head. “No, I won’t.”
I leaned forward. “You read the contract. I fucking own you. You will do what I tell you or face punishment.”
“Then I’ll take the damn punishment,” she said, lifting her chin.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she snarled.
“As you wish,” I said, draining my cup.
After wiping my mouth and my hands, I rose from my chair and headed out of the kitchen.
“Come,” I said over my shoulder without checking if she followed.
Her chair scraped against the floor, then I heard her light footsteps behind me. I called the lift. The door opened seconds after Grace caught up with me. I gestured for her to get in before following after her. She stared at me, bug-eyed, as I pressed my thumb to the scanner before pressing the button to the secured lowest level of the space station.
“Where are we going?” she asked with a thin voice.
“You’ll see.”
She wrung her hands while the lift made its quick descent to the bowels of Venus Hive. The door opened to a long, narrow corridor with rows of locked doors. I walked to the one at the very end and placed my eye in front of the retinal scanner, then my thumb on the print scanner. The door slid open with a soft swish.
It revealed a large, semi-circular room. The arched wall flowed as one continuous window displaying the endless void of space. Starlight lit the dark room. Grace’s wary gaze drew my attention. I met it head on.
“Strip.”
She glanced at the room, chewing her lip, then complied. She untied her sarong which she had knotted at the front and the luxurious fabric slid off her body. I extended a hand and she gave it to me with shaky fingers.
“Shoes.”
She hesitated. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Grace swallowed audibly then bent to pull off her high heels. I took the shoes from her and walked to a section of the back wall, by the door. A panel slid open, revealing a shelf onto which I placed the scarf and shoes.
“Ring,” I said, and a faint circle lit the ground in the center of the room.
I motioned with my chin for Grace to go stand in the middle. She looked at it, then at me, her lips quivering.
She wrapped her arms around her midriff. “What are you going to do, Anton?”
“Go,” I said, showing no emotion.
Not knowing what was about to happen, terrified her. It was intended.
She swallowed again before taking hesitant steps towards the ring. Once she reached the center, she faced me. Even now, naked, tremblin
g in the stark empty room with nothing but a curtain of stars behind her, she was the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. I fought the urge to drag her back to my room and fuck her senseless.
“Last chance,” I said. “You can come with me, and do as you’re told, or you can spend the next twenty-four hours here. Your call.”
Her eyes welled, and the trembling of her lips spread to her chin, but she shook her head. I couldn’t help admire her determination. This display of strength was unexpected… and refreshing.
“As you wish,” I said with a nod. “Bars.”
No sooner had I spoken, a tight ring of bars rose from the ground, caging her. She yelped, looking around her as they lifted to the ceiling. As they made contact, they stopped with a clank that echoed loudly through the empty room. Grace stared, wide-eyed, as a circular grid descended from the ceiling towards her. She tried pushing against the grid, her arm shaking from the strain. The pressure forced her down until she buckled, her knees slamming onto the metal plated floor.
“Anton!” she cried out, fearing she would be crushed.
The terror in her eyes tore at me. Pushing my shoulders back, I steeled myself in my resolve. The top grid stopped its descent, a little under four feet above the floor. Grace looked at me horrified through the narrow space between the bars. The cage was too low to stand in, too small to lie down in and just enough space between the bars for her to wrap her hands around them.
“You can’t leave me here!”
“I’ll see you in twenty-four hours.” I turned and walked towards the door.
“What if I need to pee?” she shouted in desperation.
Looking at her over my shoulder, I said, “Then do. There’s no one else here to mind.”
I walked out to the sound of her voice shouting my name until the door closed behind me.
CHAPTER 6
Grace
When the door swished open and Anton’s silhouette appeared in a halo of light, I thought my foggy mind played tricks on me. Everything hurt. My extremities were swollen. The bones of my ass felt as if they were trying to pierce through the skin onto the cold, hard floor. The bars of my cell were all but embedded in my back. I couldn’t feel my legs anymore they were so numb. In a way, it was a relief compared to the vicious bouts of cramping that had seized them at various intervals over the past twenty-four hours. I tried to shift, but there wasn’t enough room. The sharp pain along my spine convinced me it was a bad idea anyway.
Imaginary Anton approached the cage and crouched in front of me. His black eyes roamed over me.
“I didn’t pee,” I said with a wispy voice.
“I see that.”
Frowning, I blinked at Imaginary Anton. It was the first time the hallucination responded.
“Bars,” Anton said.
The sound of the top grid ascending the bars startled me. Looking up, I watched it fly to the ceiling.
I can stand again.
Except I couldn’t feel my legs. I hissed at the burning sensation of the bars sliding against my naked back as they lowered into the floor. Losing their support, I collapsed. Anton’s hand caught the back of my head, saving me from smacking it against the metal plating.
He’s real! I’m free! It’s over!
Blood rushed through my outstretched limbs, bringing with it fresh pain and feeling. They awakened in a chaos of pins and needles, stabbing every inch of them. I whimpered and attempted to roll to my side but cried out when my leg cramped. I tried to roll back to my initial position but my other leg cramped too.
I groaned and wept at the pain, unable to find relief. My numb hands couldn’t massage the cramps away. An incredibly warm blanket landed on me. The heavenly heat seeped into my tortured muscles all the way down to my bones, loosening the tension. Anton started rubbing and massaging my legs over the thin heating blanket, making swift work of smoothing my excruciating knots. Soon the pain receded, leaving my legs jerking involuntarily to random spasms.
Anton wrapped the blanket around me then carried me in his arms, bride-like, to the lift. By the time we reached the penthouse, I still hadn’t regained enough motor control to walk on my own. Anton set me down by the bathroom. I limped inside, leaning on the wall for support. My bladder sang with blessed relief. I didn’t know why it had mattered so much, but I refused to pee myself.
I wasn’t an animal.
I crawled to the tub and leisured in a hot bath, eyes closed. Interspersed spasms ran through my muscles. When I returned to the bedroom, food was laid out on the small breakfast table. Though it smelled good, I wasn’t hungry since William brought me water and an energy bar every six hours of my incarceration. I almost declined the meal but I didn’t know what Anton had in store for me. Eating seemed the wiser course of action.
Chewing slowly, I forced myself to clean my plate under his watchful gaze. When I finished, he stood in front of me.
“Sade’s launch was a resounding success,” Anton said, casually.
My stomach knotted, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“The celebrations will last for three more days. Night after tomorrow will be the grand finale, which I am expected to attend.”
His cold, dark eyes connected with mine. I shuddered.
“My friends were quite disappointed by your absence last night. They’re hoping you won’t be… indisposed for the finale.”
My hands fisted around the hem of my dress, twisting the delicate fabric.
“I don’t need your answer now,” Anton said as I opened my mouth to speak. “You have two days to decide how you want to spend your evening… and following hours.”
He headed towards the door.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
He paused and faced me. “Think, pet. I’m sure it will come back to you.”
Anton walked out without another word.
* * *
I knew better than to get attached so quickly. Dr. Hazan and I had spoken plenty about it when things got out of hand with Paul. After I broke up with Marcus over his endless cheating, I hooked up with one of my biggest fans. Paul was gorgeous, worldly and wanted to spend every minute of every day with me. How could I not fall for him? He was so sweet – when he was sweet. It took me a while to admit the number of times he wasn’t nice quickly outnumbered the number of times he was. The day I changed my stage outfit to hide bruises, Marcus went ballistic and forbade me from seeing Paul again. He also forced me to meet with Dr. Alicia Hazan. According to her, I had a Dependent Personality Disorder, Accommodating Subtype.
I just called it falling for the wrong guy and trying to make a doomed relationship work.
My first week with Anton had been good, great even. He was growing on me and I thought, maybe, he liked me. The way he spoiled me, taught me things and couldn’t seem to get enough of me… I hadn’t imagined it. For a brief window of time, I believed my six months with him would be fun. He even seemed willing to help my career. Then, out of nowhere, he turned into this heartless monster.
It didn’t even make sense. He went from changing my entire wardrobe because he didn’t want my tits and ass exposed to the whole world, to wanting to pass me around his Braxian buddies.
Braxians…
Yes, I was superficial – Marcus had called me out on it enough to be aware. They weren’t a pretty bunch. Everything about them was just too damn much. Their forehead was too prominent, their nose too wide and too flat, their jaw too square and broad. But it wasn’t just the Braxians unattractive faces that made the thought of them pawing me repulsive. Their bodies were massive with hands bigger than my face. Their freaking thumb alone was almost the size of a human dick, so imagine what lay between their legs. If they tried to fuck me, they’d split me in two. Braxians didn’t have cocks, they had tree trunks.
At least Anton, being half-human, was scaled to reasonable proportions. He was big compared to standard humans, but his body was fucking spectacular – big, lean and muscular. To my shame, even now with a
ll this shit going around in my head, thinking of Anton naked made me wet. His face wasn’t as brutish as theirs, the Braxian traits being more subdued, refined. And those lips… Anton had amazing lips and he knew what to do with them.
The first time we had sex, I might as well have been a virgin it had been such a tight fit. There’s no way I could take on his buddies without tearing apart. Surely he could understand that? And I didn’t want to fuck other men. Even when I was with Marcus and he stepped out on me, I never did. Anton and I may not be in a relationship per se, but for me, it was no different. Giving head to some other guys, I could consider, but not my pussy. Somehow, I needed to get through to him.
The cage had been more than I could stand. I couldn’t go back there. My muscles twitched just at the prospect. I never did well with pain and couldn’t have imagined how excruciating extended periods in a confined space could be. Another session there would drive me insane.
There was only one hour left before it was time to head out to the club. I already told Anton I would come. He became distant over the past two days, giving me no opportunity to plead my case. He only called me when he wanted me to suck him off, then he’d dismiss me. I actually liked giving him head. He smelled good, tasted good, and I loved seeing such a strong man fall apart beneath my touch. But I didn’t like what was happening between us right now.
He no longer touched me or tried to get me off. Before, he always made sure I climaxed and only after would he find his own release. Now, he treated me like a fuck hole. This felt like an extension to my punishment, a way for him to get back at me. Yet, I knew it must be more than my refusal to sleep with his friends. When I asked, he simply told me to figure it out.
It was so frustrating.
The bedroom door opened and Anton walked in. I rose to my feet, flattening out the non-existent wrinkles on my dress. It was a long, silver dress with a thigh high split on the side. Anton particularly liked it when I tried it on at Aphrodite’s Vault. I took special care of my appearance tonight, hoping to please him. He gave me a once over, and I felt myself warm at the glimmer of approval. His words though felt like a cold shower.