by Lily White
“It’s funny you should mention that. I wouldn’t think Rebecca was your type. After what I saw this afternoon, I could have sworn you’d put on that show for me.” A pause, my voice without affect, unbothered, matter of fact. “You don’t have to work so hard for my attention, Chris. If I’m the one you want, all you have to do is ask.”
His body shifted over the bed, chains clanging heavily against the iron frame. “What’s wrong? Worried that she’ll prefer my cock to yours now that she’s had something to compare you to?”
My head rested against the door, a smile stretching my cheeks. If I didn’t know Christopher was playing me, I might actually like him. He had balls. I’d give him that. “Rebecca has had many opportunities to experience cocks that weren’t mine. I’ve enjoyed demanding it of her. Enjoyed watching other men use her much like you did today. Thanks for that. I appreciate you obliging me.”
We were playing a slow game of chess, my rook sliding left, his queen moving just out of range. I’d align his king before too long.
“Any time,” he finally answered. I didn’t miss the hitch in his response, the doubt that he’d cornered me as easily as he’d hoped.
What Christopher didn’t understand was that to pierce my heart he’d have to find it first, a feat no person had yet accomplished.
“I’ll oblige you again tomorrow when she returns. Show her what a man can do for her that doesn’t require making her feel like a piece of trash.”
My eyes closed, shoulders rounding as I fought not to laugh. Maybe he didn’t recognize Rebecca as well as I thought. It only took me a few hours of training to discover her kinks were humiliation and exhibition. My beautiful Pet loved to crawl. She came the hardest when she had an audience watching. It’s why I kept her photos displayed after five years of owning her.
A gift to let her see herself as plainly as I did. All my other photographs were tucked away and out of sight. But those I took of Rebecca were blown up and proudly displayed.
Allowing silence to shred his arrogance, I refused to respond. It left him flailing to fill in the empty space with words intended to taunt. Most people were more clearly seen when you sat back to let them ramble.
“Have you come here to punish me again? You could release these chains and take me in a fair fight. Or are you afraid I’ll walk away with the girl while you lay on the floor bleeding?”
For the life of me I couldn’t understand why anyone would have chosen this jackass to be a Courtesan. He was too rough around the edges, his machismo far too engrained. It made me want to look into his original Master more to discover his habits and thinking.
“I’ve come to play, actually. You succeeded in your efforts to turn me on.”
“Then let’s play. I happen to like the pain you give.”
That pulled laughter from my throat. “I’ve noticed. It’s sex that bothers you.”
Silence, and then, “You’re right. I absolutely despise it when someone sucks my dick. Try not to use too much spit. It feels sloppy.”
It really was a shame we couldn’t be friends. The dumbass was amusing.
“I would never be so uncouth.”
My eyes had fully adjusted finally and I could see Christopher stretched out and bound across the bed. There was just enough slack in his chain for what I needed to do. It was a good thing he was tall, the stretch of his arms long. He might not die as long as he had decent muscle control.
Pushing away from the door, my steps were a rhythmic tap against unfinished wood floors, my path to the closet unhurried. There was still time to talk, to listen, to learn. “It’s not often that a Courtesan enjoys his or her Master, yet you seem to be quite pleased with yours.”
The observation was a lie suitable for the moment. In truth, most Courtesans fall in love with those who train them. It was essential to the job. Teaching them to crave being a plaything for the desires of another was integral to the process. A buyer expected it of the Master who trained the whores.
“She’s a beautiful girl. It’s not hard to enjoy her.”
In that, he wasn’t wrong. My fingers wrapped over the knob of the closet, my footsteps falling silent. “Did you also enjoy your first Master?”
Silence.
I’d expected as much.
Keeping our chat as idle as small talk between acquaintances, I clicked on a small closet light, just enough illumination for my eye without marring the darkness of the room. “Jake Gillian was an old man from what I recall. It made me wonder: Was his dick as wrinkly as his face?”
“I thought you weren’t into men.”
Selecting a length of thick rope, I pulled it from a shelf, careful not to knock anything to the floor. “Usually I’m not, but it’s like I said earlier: you succeeded in drawing my attention. Rebecca likes it rough, and so do I.”
Fingers wrapping over a tool I had specially made years ago but never used, I opened it to slip in a few batteries, ensuring they were new from the package and fully charged.
Turning, I was a silhouette against the low light of the closet. “You never answered my question.”
His head hadn’t turned my direction, his eyes directed to the ceiling. The willpower it must have taken to not watch the predator circling was impressive.
“I didn’t pay much attention to my former Master’s cock. It didn’t do much for me. He preferred using whips.”
“I thought as much. Most likely, the old man couldn’t get it up. I’d heard a rumor but haven’t verified. I’ll be sure to correct that error.”
With my heel, I kicked the closet closed, the sound jarring in a small unlit room. “I think we should have a conversation, Christopher. One that remains between us. I have a promise I’d like to make you.”
A deep voice echoing in the darkness. “That doesn’t sound promising. And here I thought we were about to be friends.”
My lips twitched. “We are. The most intimate of friends. Hours of endless entertainment.”
His bravery was fracturing. I could sense it, just like I could sense that he was using Rebecca to get to me. Fucking head games. Apparently I wasn’t the only person who knew how to play them.
“What’s the promise?”
Rebecca’s kink was humiliation. Christopher’s was not. His arrogance in toying with me had been the mistake that tipped me off to that particular truth.
This man with his machismo and self-satisfied assurance was willing to play the game of toy as long as it was his choice to do so. With Rebecca, he’d chosen to behave only because he believed it would eventually turn a girl’s eye away from the man who owned her. But with me...ah, with me...he’d made no such decision.
I wasn’t yet sure if Rebecca knew what he was doing. She would be the next sensual game I played. But for now, an exhibit - art in a way only I knew how to create it.
A snail’s crawl across the space between the closet and the bed, my lack of speed disguising any anger I might have felt toward him. He wanted to get to me, and even if he had, I would never let him know it.
“My promise to you is that if you attempt to gain my attention, I’ll happily give it to you. You may play nice with your Master. You may crawl, and fuck, even bark on command if that’s what she wants you to do, but if you utter my name, or if you convince her that she’s fucking you to get back at me for any reason, I’ll view it as your request to see me again. I know you like me, but try not to degrade yourself so far as to beg for my touch. It only makes me view you as pathetic.”
My feet stopped when I reached the bed. Setting the tools I’d chosen on a side table, I reached to turn on the spotlight. His eyes clenched against the bright intrusion.
“Speak the Devil’s name and he shall appear. You ready to play now?”
His throat worked to swallow, sweat breaking out over his brow despite the cold air. My face was concealed in shadow, but every sharp angle of his was in clear view.
“Only if I get to make a promise as well,” he answered, his eyes opening to seek min
e. I wouldn’t give him that contact. Instead, I waited silently for what he had to say, took the time to grab the rope from the side table and fashion a makeshift noose. I wasn’t particularly interested in anything he had to say and I wasn’t foolish enough to let him think his thoughts or opinions mattered.
“I promise -“
My hand gripped his hair before he could utter three words, lifting his head to slip the noose over it. His eyes widened to realize what I was doing, the length of the rope brushing against his chest. While I was tightening the knot, he impressed me again by continuing to talk.
“- that by the end of this, you’ll lose the woman you call -“
The knot crushed up against his Adam’s apple, making it difficult for him to swallow and breathe.
“- Pet,” he coughed, his skin turning an ugly shade of red. Still, he kept on, his voice strained. “So, that’s your plan? Kill me? Afraid I’ll win this if you don’t?”
I lightly tapped his cheek. “That’s adorable. And no. You’ll survive this. Just as long as you don’t fall asleep or move from the position I leave you in.”
Wrapping my left hand around the length of loose rope, I tugged down before he thought to brace himself, his arms extending fully above his head until his chains became taut. While he struggled to kick himself back up the bed, I used my right hand to hold him in place with my hand over the noose, my body leaning over him so that I was finally visible in the light. “Do me a favor and flip over on your stomach.”
Face mottled and dark red, eyes wide, teeth clenched, he managed to hiss, “Fuck you.”
I grinned. “Thanks for the invitation, but I’m not into men. Try and keep up.”
He stared at me unblinking, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to drag air into his lungs. I tsked. “If you keep fighting, you’ll end up killing yourself. And how can you expect to steal my Courtesan from me if you’re dead?” Pausing, I held my professional mask in place, my eyes as serene as the still water of the lake outside my office window.
“Fine. I guess we’ll do this the hard way.”
Tugging the rope down until I could wrap it over the foot rail of the bedframe, I tied it in place, dismissing the wet sounds of a man choking. He thrashed over the mattress as soon as I gripped his hips to force him over onto his stomach, the fight reminding me of the man he’d pretended to be when first brought to my house.
Casually, as if we were two old friends speaking across the table while drinking a cup of coffee, I commented, “You see, your problem is that you let your emotions get all tangled up in this. Anger, retribution, lust, pride, it all muddies the waters and gives your opponent the upper hand.”
Once flipped, I untied the rope, tugging it again to drag him up onto his knees, his back arched forward, his ass presented to the air and his forehead coming to a rest on the mattress. Resecuring the rope now that I had him in the position I needed, I reached beneath him to loosen the noose to ensure he continued breathing. “I wouldn’t try to tug out of that position, Chris, you’ll end up suffocating yourself if you do.”
Stepping back I admired the pose. His arms were pulled taut about his head, his body curled forward over his knees, his ass in perfect view of the door. If any person were to walk in, it would be the first part of his anatomy they’d see.
“Is this what turns you on, you sick fuck? Fucking a man from behind?”
My shoulders shook on silent laughter. “A man, no. A woman, well, Rebecca seems to enjoy it when I explore that particular hole.”
Satisfied he was held in place, the rope positioned to strangle him should he attempt to straighten over the mattress, I grabbed the second toy: a metallic vibrator with glimmering streamers attached to the end, much like you would find on the handles of a young girl’s bicycle. They hung down to create a horse’s tail, if that horse were a unicorn from some puke inducing fantasyland. The design would have been pretty hanging from a woman’s ass, but ridiculous on this particular man.
Flipping the switch, I trailed the vibrating tip down the crease of his ass, notching it at the hole. The soft whirring noise a quiet buzz as I spoke. “Did you know that a man has a pleasure center in his ass? The prostate gland, I’ve read, is quite responsive to touch.” Sliding the vibrator inside him with a slow stroke, I knew it wouldn’t cause much damage for its slightly smaller size. He wasn’t my Courtesan to damage. Not yet anyway.
Crouching low enough so that I could lock my eyes to his within the shadow beneath his spread legs and curled body, I smiled. “How’s that feel?”
Christopher didn’t respond, not that I thought he would. But his eyes were narrowed with rage, a silent promise to get even. I welcomed the attempt.
“Enjoy the first few orgasms this toy will give you. After that, I hope the continued stimulation doesn’t hurt too much.”
I stood, about to make my way from the room, when another idea came to mind. It only took a few minutes to walk to the playroom, grab my camera, and return to the struggling son of a bitch who thought he’d make a fool of me. After snapping a few photos, I opened the door all the way, leaving it so there would be a perfect view of what I’d done should anybody walk down the hall.
Before leaving, I leaned a shoulder against the doorway, admiring the living art I’d created. “It’s as I promised you, Chris. I see no problem if you want to behave for your Master, but drag me into it again, and I’ll come up with another fun game for us next time. Oh, and one more thing,” I said, my temper rising to remember what had pissed me off most of all.
I pulled the straight razor from my back pocket, opened it to allow light to wash over its smooth, metallic surface.
“Leave a mark on my Courtesan again, or draw even one more drop of blood from her beautiful body, and I’ll call some friends I have who don’t give a fuck about the rules in place between Masters. They’ll sneak in, drag you away, and in a few days time, nobody will remember you enough to care to look for your body. They’ll keep you alive for a few months, at least. Although you’ll wish for something as sweet as death could deliver. Just a warning between friends. And since you didn’t remember my last warning not to harm her, I’ll leave you with a more permanent reminder this time.”
Stepping closer, I dragged the razor over the taut skin of his ass, leaving my initials there for Rebecca to discover. The wounds weren’t deep enough to scar, a simple warning with blood welling that would drip as slowly as Rebecca’s had before he’d licked it up.
Tapping the wound, I smeared the blood. “Have a good night and please be sure to remember not to move. I’d hate for Rebecca to find a corpse in the morning.”
I walked slowly from the room in route to my bedroom, laughing to myself to think what Rebecca’s expression would be when she found her fuckboy left in such a compromising position.
And as for my Courtesan, I had one last lesson to teach, one that would be far more appetizing for a man such as me.
One down.
One to go.
This game was beginning to be interesting.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
REBECCA
I felt him before opening my eyes. A strong, patient presence, his danger licking across my skin as sparks and ribbons of electric awareness. It caused my heart to pound just a little harder, my lungs to struggle just a little more to draw in air.
The glimmer of morning sunlight through the thin, gauzy curtains, was shining on my face, a kiss of glowing red against my eyelids. Consciousness had just claimed me after a night of restless sleep, and though I’d not yet moved or opened my eyes, I knew he stood in the room watching me. I could taste his glorious cruelty, could feel him as a pulse beneath my skin, jagged and sharp with warning.
Please, I thought, don’t let this be a dream...
The photographs I’d studied the previous night were a slide show in my mind. It was impossible not to wonder what image of me he was dedicating to memory now.
Licking my lips, I drew in enough air for my voice to be a sleep-
laden whisper, not quite strong enough to breach the stillness of a pensive moment between a man and a woman. We were balanced on a cliff as thin as a well-honed blade. One wrong step would cause us both to fall, our bodies tumbling into oblivion.
“What do you see when you watch me?”
A cultured voice, deep in timber, as smooth and dark as the silk scarves he preferred to use in moments when he wanted me quiet or blind. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen you for a long time.”
My heart shattered beneath the weight of a truthful confession.
“What do you see now?”
A tick of silence, heavy and excruciating. “I see a woman who would walk away if I were selfless enough to unclip her leash.”
I wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t give him that, not after the last few times we’d been together. “Will you do so after I’m finished training my Courtesan? Or have you already begun unclipping my leash?”
“Is that what you want?”
My eyes opened to find Aiden leaning against a far wall, his hands tucked in the pockets of his slate grey slacks, his chest bare because he hadn’t yet finished dressing after taking a shower. A drop of water ran a slow trail down his chest to follow the line of his pec, further down until becoming caught by another drop stuck within one ridge of his muscular abdomen.
No. It’s not what I wanted. I once tried to imagine my life without him and only managed to work myself into a twisted knot of sorrow and regret.
We don’t choose who we love, even if the person who owns us is the sweetest of poisons leading us into a quiet death.
“Yes,” I lied, hating the game I played because one wrong move could send us spiraling apart.
Blue eyes held mine, the filtered sunlight in the room glimmering within their depths. “And if I told you I would change your mind, would you believe me?”
Tossing his question back at him, I asked, “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”
I stumbled over the lack of hesitation in his admission. Aiden was not a man who revealed any weakness, regardless of how minor it might be. Only a fool would let such an opportunity pass. “How?”