Lisa

..

..

Christine brings us BLT sandwiches for lunch. Apparently, my torture session lasted well through breakfast. I don't miss the disappointment in my housemaid's eyes and it bothers me. I've never seen the look in her eyes before. I have done shit like this for years so I'm confused that she suddenly seems offended.

"Thank you," I tell her as she scurries off. "Tell Bambam to come here."

Bunny sits quietly in my lap. She's long since stopped crying and when she started to shiver, I covered her in her robe. Now she's simply silent. I miss her voice and my chest aches.

This is exactly why I needed to see Rosé. To get my head back on straight. I'm weak when it comes to Bunny.

"You need me, ma'am?" Bambam's normally playful smile is gone and he's all business. I glare at him in confusion. Are they all fucking pissed at me? Again, this isn't the first time I've done this shit.

But Bunny is different.

I swallow down the fact that my staff sees it too and grunt out my command. "Take care of Bunny. I have shit to do. I want her playing the part of perfect whore by dinner." I attempt to keep my voice even and bored but when she tenses in my arms, guilt washes over me. Instead of letting the guilt win, I nudge her to get out of my lap.

"Come on, honey," Bambam says with a sigh of exasperation, "let's go work some magic. It'll take a lot to make you the way Ms. Manoban wants you."

His comment is a dig and I snap my gaze to his. We standoff for a moment as he helps her to her feet but eventually he chickens out and looks away.

"Pure. Street. Trash." My reminder makes him huff.

"Got it, ma'am," he says over his shoulder. "But this will take all day."

The dig again.

He wants me to understand that she is far from street trash. Fuck him and his girly attitude. I'll have a little conversation with him about it later. But right now, I need to sort through some work and focus on anything but how warm she felt in my arms.

"Just get it done, Bams, if you want to keep your goddamn job. I want her ready by five for dinner."

All I get is a wave before the door closes behind them. As soon as she's gone, the air is colder. My office seems empty. Lonely. I fucking hate it.

I attempt to keep my mind off of her by diving into work. Several emails wait in my inbox from Irene and Jackson. Apparently Kai is doing well and he's "deeply saddened by his actions and the consequence of said actions."

Good.

He should be fucking scared out of his goddamned mind. I'm not done with his ass yet.

An email pops up from a name I don't recognize.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

RE: Membership

Ms. Manoban,

I'm very interested in discussing your exclusive membership opportunities. Please ring my office so we can talk privately on the matter.

—M—

I pick up the phone and dial the number he's listed just under his picture. He's a politician with a friendly smile. The Black membership is incredibly expensive to the tune of a hundred grand a year. Accounts like this don't come around every day, so when they do, I make sure to handle the transaction. He answers on the first ring. "Mark Lee."

Sitting back in my office chair, I swivel around so I can stare out at the lake. "Hello, Mr. Lee. Lalisa Manoban speaking. I received your email and understand you've read the terms and pricing for our Black membership?"

After a lengthy discussion, I discover that Mark is a freak like me. He's even had my grumpy ass chuckling a few times with his easygoing personality. His only concern was making sure that his paying for the Black membership will keep his dealings discreet because of his political affiliations. It's a legitimate concern and one he won't have to worry about. Even I can't access his "requests." He could be asking for dudes for all I know. Many other clients like to brag about the toys they're interested in and what they do to them but Mark has been absolutely silent on the subject. All I know is he's willing to drop a lot of fucking cash in my company for his needs.

"I have a thing for brunettes," he tells me finally with a chuckle, giving me a sneak peek into his private world.

So do I apparently.

"I have some time off at the end of February. That's probably when I'll set up my meeting with my toy. I'd love to meet up with you and play a round of golf, Ms. Manoban."

"Please, call me Lisa. We'll make it happen. In the meantime, upon completion of your payment, you'll be given access to the Black section of the site. Feel free to call me if you have any questions as I want to make this a pleasurable experience for you."

"I have no doubts I will be pleased. I'm looking forward to some fun before I have to work my ass off. I'm running in 2022 so that means I won't be getting too many vacation days in the near future."

"What race?"

"Presidential."

I whistle. "Impressive. Your dealings with our company will be handled with the utmost discretion, I can assure you. As long as you follow your rules, we follow ours. But, for the record, I'm not voting for you," I joke.

We both laugh.

"I like you, Lalisa Manoban. Can't wait to meet you in person."

"Likewise, buddy."

I don't make friends very easily but I already like this guy. Perhaps I will vote for him.

..

..

"Where's Bunny?" I question from the doorway of the salon. Bambam is putting all the makeup back in a drawer and doesn't look up at me.

"Upstairs."

I cross my arms and wait for him to elaborate. When he doesn't I growl. "Do you have a fucking problem, Bams?"

He snaps his head up and his jaw works in desperation to keep what he really wants to say from escaping. "Not at all, ma'am. She's a skanky, little whore just like you requested."

Nodding at him, I start to leave but his words stop me.

"Ma'am," he says with a sigh, "I don't mean to step out of line but something is different about Bunny. She doesn't belong here."

My blood boils. If another goddamn person tells me this, I'm going to choke the fucking shit out of them.

"Is that all, Bambam?"

He mutters out a yes and goes back to cleaning.

Stalking out of the salon, I storm past the kitchen that smells heavenly and get on the elevator. The ride upstairs is long and I'm tight like a rubber band stretched to its limit by the time I step out on the top floor. Her room is empty and my stomach drops.

"Bunny?"

She responds from the Theater Room. I find her inside hiding in the dark. "Did you not find any movies to watch?"

Her laugh is harsh and cold. "I don't watch Disney princess movies. I'd hoped for a Reese Witherspoon flick or something."

I shrug my shoulders. "You'll have to earn more movies."

Flicking on the light, I'm surprised to see her standing. The dress Bambam picked out for her is neon yellow and short, barely covering the nice swell of her ass. Her slender legs are sparkly in the light from some kind of lotion or some shit. And she wears spiked black heels that make her a few inches taller. He's teased her hair all over her head and it's twice its normal size. She glares at me beneath long false lashes. The rouge on her cheeks has been overdone and her lips are stained blood red.

She's supposed to look like a whore.

But she somehow looks hot.

"Come here."

Her hesitation is minimal as she steps toward me. The light in her eyes isn't dulled but it has darkened. She's not afraid of me like she should be. She fucking hates me. The very thought sends a trickle of unease sliding down my spine.

I don't care if my toys like me.

I don't care if they think I'm the fucking devil.

So why the fuck am I craving the way she looked at me last night?

"I'm embarrassed," she says softly and it slices into my gut.

Studying her features, I frown. "Why?"

"Look at me. I look like a whore."

I should remind her that she is a whore but I can't. I can't fucking do it. Instead, my mouth blurts out what I want to say and the moment it slips out, I'm angry with myself for being a pussy. "You don't look like a whore. You're beautiful."

Her long lashes bat against her cheeks and I see surprise morphing her pretty features. "Master?"

My cock thickens with one word. All sweetness drains into the floor and my back stiffens. I like my whore looking the way she does. "Yes, my toy?"

"Can we go shopping one day?"

I raise a confused brow. "Bunny, you have a closet full of clothes, from the finest retailers in Seattle."

She frowns and looks away. "Never mind."

I reach for her hand and she lets me take it. Dragging her out of the Theater Room, I head toward the Hole. I know we're supposed to be going to dinner but I want to fuck her before we go. She needs to be dripping with my cum during dinner. That's what good whores do—they drip with their owner's cum.

There's no resistance on her part as I push through the unlocked door and into the room. The light's still on from last night and the air is cold like it's supposed to be.

"On your knees, skank." I give her a small shove toward the mattress.

She saunters over there as if she owns the fucking place and gets on all fours. "Like this, master?"

I groan as I begin unfastening my pants. "I want to see your ass when I fuck you. Push your panties down and lift up your dress."

Her chuckle is fake but it stirs my cock. "But master," she purrs, "I'm not wearing any panties."

Tugging my hard-as-steel dick from my pants, I saddle up behind her. Bruises mar her ass and it makes me want to put them all over her body—but with my mouth.

"Are you wet?" I question.

She shakes her head. "No, ma'am."

"Good." I line my cock up against her opening and shove myself inside of her.

Her scream isn't one of pain and with how easily I slid in, I know she was lying. She's so fucking wet and I'm confused. My toy hates me yet she's eager for me to fuck her. This shit hole of a room turns her on.

I have half a mind to drag her unwilling ass into the Princess Room and fuck her there. But I don't have any rope handy and I'm guessing she'd try to run. I'll save that little fantasy for another day.

"Does your ass hurt?" I question as I thrust into her.

She whimpers every time my nuts slap against her clit and it turns me right the fuck on. "Yes, ma'am."

"Does my dick make it all better?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Reaching into her knotty hair, I tangle my fingers in it and yank. She yelps but her pussy clenches around my cock. My toy likes it rough.

"Beg for me to spank you again, Bunny."

She whines. "Please don't."

"Bunny," I warn with a growl.

I'm surprised when she falls to her elbows and offers her ass up to me. I take her deeper and groan. Jesus, she feels so fucking good.

"Beg, baby."

"Please spank me, master."

My sight darkens with pleasure and my groin tightens. She clenches her butt cheeks as she prepares for a spanking which makes her body grip my cock. It's intense. I crave to pause this moment with her. To live inside of her for eternity. My thoughts are running wild in my head as I live in the sheer fucking pleasure she rewards me with. She tenses, waiting for pain—pain I'm not sure I can even deliver because I'm too frozen in the moment that's her. I don't spank her but I do cum without warning.

"Shit!"

She gasps and as I throb into her, her body begins to shudder, milking my dick as if I could suddenly produce more cum for her. Her body is still shaking when I yank out of her.

Fuck!

This was supposed to drag on. To last longer than three goddamned seconds. I wanted to whip her and hurt her. I fucking wanted to own her mind and body for hours as I kept her away from her much coveted bliss.

But instead, she messed with my damn head. I lost myself in her again. This woman confuses the hell out of me and she's ruining my carefully constructed plans.

I stand with a disgusted snarl and shove my wet dick back into my pants. All through dinner I want to feel her sticky pussy mixed with my seed.

"Pull your dress down, whore. We're going to dinner."

She stands and drags her short dress back over her ass with a satisfied smile playing at her lips as if my instructions were normal. The two of us are not fucking normal. I want to be pissed at her—for scrambling my brain—but the fire is simmering. A smile of my own tugs at my lips against my will.

"What are we having?" Her curious expression snuffs out my anger and I can't help but think she's cute. Especially knowing my hot cum is running down her thighs.

Chuckling, I reach for her hand. "My favorite. Today's been a good day, Bunny. I'm pleased with your progress. You're making me very happy."

She flashes me a shy grin and my cock reacts. But I'm fucking starved. I'll have her suck our juices off later for dessert. Her hand slides into mine and the iciness of it sobers me right the fuck up. Dragging her out of the room, I hastily get her to the elevator and out of the Hole.

We get onto the elevator and she shivers. Even though she looks like the prostitute she is, her green eyes are eager. For food. Just like me. When you live on the streets, food becomes just as much of a drug as heroin or cocaine.

"Christine is a fantastic cook. You haven't had home cooking like hers," I tell her, excitement in my voice.

She raises a challenging brow. "Then you, ma'am, have not had Jennie's Famous Fried Chicken. One taste and you'll be mine forever," she teases.

The thought of her bouncing around the kitchen with flour on her nose stirs much more than my cock this time. An ache forms inside my chest and I don't like it.

"Can we go shopping tomorrow?"

Her question once again confuses me. "What is your obsession with shopping?"

She swallows, her icy hand in mine becomes clammy. "I wanted to get some yoga pants and some T-shirts."

I start to protest but stop to listen to her next whispered words.

"And I was hoping I could get some socks," she says, turning her sad eyes to mine. "My feet have been so cold."

The ache is in my chest again.

I don't know what I'm going to do with this toy.

But I know for sure that tomorrow we're going to buy her some fucking socks. Every goddamn pair at every goddamn store.

..

..

Jennie

..

..

"Bunny?"

The voice. Dark, rich, powerful. It tugs me from my dreams and I run to it willingly. As I blink open my eyes, I'm reminded that I'm in the Hole. After dinner, Lisa left me to "turn in early." I came upstairs, washed all the whore makeup off and combed out my ratty hair, donned a robe, and crawled onto the piss mattress in the Hole to sleep.

I'm sure the closet or the Theater Room would have been warmer but they don't smell like her. Lalisa Manoban. The dickhead who I'm hopelessly attracted to. Yesterday had been humiliating—and that's saying something coming from a used up whore. Had it been her friends or even the doctor or Dubois, I could have dealt better. But Christine and Bambam had been there. They were horrified, I could sense it. And I was embarrassed. I'd hardly said two words to Christine the rest of the day. It was a little more difficult to avoid Bambam though. That man just gets right up in your face and suffocates you with his delicious manly scented bear hugs. He promised me things would get better though and I clung onto a false sense of hope.

But the thing that has my mind reeling is what happened after they left the room. When it was just Lisa and I. She'd said terrible things to me and I liked it. It wasn't like my past where I'd been ridiculed by someone who I thought loved me. Instead, it was like she said these dark, dirty things to reach some sexual animal inside of me that I'd kept well-hidden over the years. I'm still confused about how my body responded and desperately craved her vicious words. A warmth flushes over my chest and my heart flutters.

I'm sick. Just like I accused her of being. And I look forward to more. Maybe I do need to chat with Rosé and try and figure out what's wrong with me.

"Bunny!"

The voice again.

"In here," I respond and sit up as the door flings open.

Her frame hulks in the doorway and her chest heaves. She probably thinks her precious toy ran away. Well, she'd be wrong. It'll take a lot more than a few spankings and her humiliating me for me to leave. This money could mean a new future for me. For once, I'm wondering what that future could hold.

"Jesus, Jennie, it's fucking cold in here and you don't even have a blanket. Come here."

The fact that she called me by my name has my heart fluttering at that hope that Bambam told me to hold on to. Because even though awful things come from her mouth, she can also be sweet. The sweet is what somehow makes it all better. When she held me yesterday after all she'd done to me, I felt whole. It doesn't quite make sense in my head but I like both. A lot.

Lisa and I are cut from the same complicated, dirty cloth.

She reaches for my hands and I take them, allowing her to pull me to a standing position. Her grey, stormy eyes from yesterday are gone and she regards me with the deep blue ones that make me feel revered.

"Get showered and dressed," she tells me, pushing a dark strand of hair from my eyes. "I'm taking you shopping."

I squeal in delight which earns me a breathtaking smile. Before I can stop myself, I fling my arms around her neck and kiss her warm lips. "Thank you."

She nods and I break free to get ready. Half an hour later, I've found the most comfortable outfit in the closet after a quick, hot shower: a pair of charcoal-colored pleated pants, a pair of snakeskin, black heels, and a white, ribbed sweater that fits my body like a glove, accentuating my breasts and flat tummy. I don't find any jewelry but find a black and grey, patterned scarf to hang around my neck. My makeup, I do minimally but enough that I decide I look pretty and my hair which has begun to dry wild, gets pulled up into a messy bun that looks like I spent hours styling it that way.

After a few minutes staring into the mirror, I decide I look . . .

Normal.

Like the old me.

The thought cuts me deep and I hurry away from the mirror. Lisa is no longer upstairs and I find her in the dining room shoveling in some scrambled eggs. Today, she's not wearing a suit and I want to eat her up. Her chest is decadent encased in a fitted, mocha-colored long-sleeved Henley. She's styled her hair in a messier-than-usual way and as I approach, I'm jealous to see her wearing a sexy pair of nice jeans while I don less casual clothes.

Her need to humiliate me was confusing at first but now I'm beginning to understand her more. Lisa is aroused sexually by sadistic behavior, but she's not evil. I know fucking evil. She may get off on calling me a whore, but most of the time she's more human than monster, and she always sees to it that she pleasures me beyond my wildest dreams. I seem to crave both the woman and the dark creature that lies beneath. What she does to me isn't unforgiveable. In fact, I know that if I were to press the issue, she'd back down. Say the safe word. Pause. I'd have my ass out on the street but I'm not her prisoner. I'll never be anyone's prisoner again. Lisa simply has a complicated sexual appetite. And lucky for her, I'm a complicated woman who clearly gets off on what she does to me.

"Bunny," she says, her voice quiet as she sets the fork down on the plate. "You look.."

I smile and steal the buttered toast from her plate. "Normal?"

My cheeks burn because now I'm embarrassed. I look like the woman who would wear something like this every day for work a decade ago. That same woman whose biggest concern was making sure the clothes had been taken to the dry cleaners or that she changed her oil every three-thousand miles. I'm jealous of her simple life before it all went to hell.

"I was going to say beautiful." Her voice is gruff and she hungrily drinks up my appearance. Then, she smirks—oh, that sexy smirk of hers—and winks. "You'll never be normal, Bunny. You're a weird one."

I swat her playfully and sit on the edge of the table. She finishes her eggs while I devour both slices of her toast. Lisa doesn't even argue when I gulp down half her orange juice. I'm smiling when I catch Christine staring at me from the kitchen. She seems pleased with me which is a vast improvement from yesterday. I'll take what I can get with her. I actually like Christine and don't want her to be unhappy with me.

Lisa stands and helps me to my feet before depositing her dishes in the sink. "Chris, we'll be back by dinner."

She nods and walks over to her to pick a piece of lint from her shoulder. The gesture is motherly in nature and it warms me. But the vulnerable, despondent look in her blue eyes nearly guts me. "Take your time, ma'am. If the day gets away from you, take her to one of those seafood restaurants at one of the piers. Don't rush on account of me. I was going to make something simple anyway."

Lisa breaks away from her and for a moment a funny tightness makes my chest ache. Why does this feel like a date? And why does that notion excite me?

..

"This is not Pretty Woman. I am not Richard Gere and you aren't Julia Roberts," Lisa groans when I drag her into a coffee shop.

I can't help but laugh. I've been comparing us to the movie and trying to irritate the shit out of her by my incessant babbling. It's working, sort of. She seems more amused than annoyed though.

"Coffee is the workaholic's heroin," I tell her knowingly as we stand in line.

She raises a brow as if to inquire how I know about anything other than being a skanky ho. I shrug my shoulders. "I wasn't a whore my whole life, Ms. Manoban."

Her answering smirk is endearing and I sigh. It's been fun letting Dubois cart us around to all the shops in Seattle today. I spent three hours in Target alone, much to Lisa's horror, and bought every pair of yoga pants they had in my size.

"What were you then?"

"I'll have a Grande Café Mocha with extra cream. And big girl here'll have something tall and dark. Stir in a little evil while you're at it," I tell the barista, careful to evade her question. The blonde at the register scrunches her nose in confusion.

Lisa huffs. "A Grande Drip. Black."

"Like her soul," I add in.

She pinches my butt and I laugh. The girl rings us up but refuses to make eye contact. Once we have our coffees in hand and are seated by the window that overlooks the rainy Puget Sound, Lisa clears her throat.

"Bunny, what did you do? Before. Before prostitution and before the souvenir shop?"

I drag my gaze from the water and regard her with a frown. "Stuff. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm just a whore now." My words are bitter and I have to look away from her beautiful face. We were having fun and now things have taken a turn down Shitty Lane.

She reaches across and takes my hand. "Tell me."

Huffing, I meet her interested stare. "I managed an office at a law firm."

Shock crosses her features and then she scowls. "Are you educated?"

I swallow and nod my head. "Bachelor's in Business Law. I minored in Accounting."

We sit in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts while we drink our hot coffees. It warms me a little but my toes are still little popsicles. Heels weren't meant for shopping in Seattle in the fall.

"Jesus," she says with a groan and stands, striding over to a trash can to drop her empty cup. I can't help but admire her butt in her sexy jeans. The woman was a pig yesterday but I still wanted her. Today, she's so close to perfect that it's scary. My hopes are on a rollercoaster ride as I attempt to keep up with her ever-changing moods.

She stalks out of the shop and stands in the rain for a moment, running her hands through her hair. The woman is hot, no denying that. I just wish she wasn't so cold too.

I abandon my cup and hurry after her. She's climbing back into the car and slams the door shut before I reach her. I'm about to hop in after her when Dubois shakes her head at me from beside the car.

"What?" I hiss.

His face sours. "Whatever it is you think you're doing, you should stop."

I gape at him in confusion. "Stop what, Dubois?"

"You say and do things to make her weak. She may be my boss but she's also my friend," he clips out. "I won't allow you to hurt her."

Flipping him off, I snap at him. "You're blind if you think it's her who's getting hurt in all of this. Newsflash, it's me. And for some reason I seem to like it."

His gaze softens. "She's not as tough and put together as she outwardly displays. For some odd reason, you get inside of her like no other woman ever has. I hope that you don't abuse that power."

He opens the door and I huff as I get inside the car. His words irritate me. I'm not the one calling the shots around here. I'm not the one whipping people. I'm not the one controlling every single aspect of someone's life. So why is Dubois so pissed at me?

"Now what?" I question Lisa. Her frame is rigid as she stares out the window.

"I was going to buy you a computer and help you enroll in some college courses. That's part of what I do for my toys. But you.."

"I'm different."

She exhales loudly and glares at me. "The statement of the fucking year."

"You don't have to buy me a computer, Li—" I start but quickly catch myself. "You don't have to buy me a computer, ma'am. However, I could help you work if you want. It's kind of boring spending the day getting all dolled up. As much as I like gazing dreamily into Bambam's chocolate eyes, sometimes a girl has to give her hormones a break."

She growls and I laugh. "Bunny, he's gay."

Shrugging, I pat her knee. "I like to look at pretty things, what can I say. Don't get all jealous on me. I just said I'd rather spend my time with you than staring at the angel man."

Her chest puffs out a bit and I curl up against her side as Dubois merges into traffic. A shiver that has nothing to do with the frigid air courses through me when she wraps a heavy arm around me.

"At the next stop can I change? I'm freezing in these pants and shoes. I think my toes are going to fall off," I mutter against her chest.

She tenses but slides her palm up and down my back quickly as if to warm me up. "They won't let you into the restaurant I made reservations at if you're looking like a soccer mom."

My lips find her neck and I press a soft kiss there. "So take me somewhere I'll be accepted."

..

I traded my slacks for a fitted pair of jeans and my heels for socks and comfortable tennis shoes. Now I feel like a hundred bucks.

"I smell fish. Christine will be happy," I laugh as we walk arm in arm into the Pike Place Market.

She chuckles and I love the rich sound that somehow makes its way above the loud roar of people shopping in the market. "I think she will be, Bunny."

"What's up Dubois' butt anyway?" I question and stop to inhale a bouquet of pink and yellow roses. "He's been grumpier than usual today. I guess he doesn't like me much, huh?"

When I pop back up and glance at Lisa, she seems angry—her jaw clenches and the deep blue turns grey. "He's protective over me is all."

I nod and don't push the matter any further. She's been fun to be around today and I don't want her to go back to being a jerk. Together, we make it through the maze of people and browse trinkets and treats on the way to the "soccer mom" restaurant. When I've officially driven her crazy, and like a little kid begged for everything, we finally make it to the end and she guides me into a casual seafood restaurant.

The server seats us by a window that has a spectacular view of the Sound and the Ferris wheel. She orders a bottle of their finest wine—which only costs twenty eight dollars—and studies the menu with a sour pout.

"You're spoiled, Lalisa Manoban."

She peers over her menu and her gaze darkens. "And you like pushing your luck, toy."

I swallow and glance back down at my menu. Something happened from the time we got out of the car until now to change her mood. She's not the playful girlfriend-type sex god from earlier. Now, she's back to playing master and if I don't cut the shit, she'll probably bend me over her knee right here in the restaurant. The image of her sliding her belt off and having me bare my ass to her in front of everyone causes heat to rush through me, straight to my core.

"I hate your spankings," I say in a whisper. "But for some reason, I think about them a lot. And for some really odd reason, it makes me hot."

She grits her teeth and drops her menu. "I should make you suck my cock right here under this table."

I have to look away for a moment, unable to meet her eyes. Images of her humiliating suggestion heat my cheeks and causes an ache of need to bloom in my lower belly. When I look up again, I find her shaking her head.

"Jesus, Bunny. Does anything frighten you?"

My skin chills as I think about him. I blink away my nauseating memories and glance down at the menu. "Have you tried the salmon here?"

I know she hasn't but I'm desperate to change the subject.

Her foot nudges mine under the table and I feel compelled to look at her. She demands attention without uttering a word. Authority pulsates through the air—charging it—as she watches me. I'm not afraid of her—quite the opposite actually. When she gets all "I'm the Master" on me, I get turned on.

"I'm going to find out what scares you," she tells me with a growl, "and I'm going to make you face it."

She'll never know.

She'll never know.

"What can I get you two?" The server smiles at us and thankfully disrupts our odd exchange.

I'm still frozen somewhere between the past and the present so Lisa orders the salmon for me.

"I will find out, Bunny."

..

..

Undress and wait in the Princess Room.

Her words had been short and without any inflection of emotion. I'm confused because despite her being seemingly pissed at me during dinner and afterward, once she guided me straight to the car, she still went back and bought me the yellow and pink rose bouquet. It was sweet and they were fragrant, I'd been in love with the flowers and the gesture. However, the entire ride home was awful as she ignored me completely.

Now, she's downstairs barking orders at Dubois to unload all the packages and I'm hiding naked in my closet. She'd said be in the Princess Room naked and waiting. Since the closet is in the room, I'm technically not disobeying. My feet are cold again now that I'm naked and I shiver just wondering about how cold they'll get in the Hole. I wish she'd just take me back to her fur rug downstairs in her room.

My mind flits to the conversation with Rosé. Once we'd come home, I'd asked to use Lisa's phone to call her. To my surprise, she handed it over without questions. The small morsel of trust made it easier to make the call. Despite her seemingly angry disposition at dinner and on the way home, she'd softened momentarily at my request.

"I'm glad you called, Jennie. I am here to help you. Not hurt you."

I chew on my lip as I clutch the phone and swivel in Lisa office chair. Her office smells like her and even though I'd been humiliated here yesterday, I don't have any ill feelings now. In fact, I find comfort here because it reminds me of Lisa. I'm beginning to associate that sensation with her no matter how hard she tries to fuck with me. Deep down, she has another side—a side I witnessed today while out on the town with her before she got all pissy. And I want that side of her too.

"I like it when she hurts me but I don't want it all of the time," I whisper, as if voicing it implicates me in some sexual crime.

I can hear the smile in her voice. "Of course not. Who would want to be hurt all of the time? As humans, we crave gentle connection too. Do you feel like you receive those connections?"

My heart aches as I think about the way Lisa's made love to me or the compliments she gives me. I like the way she praises me, caresses me, and kisses me. "Yeah."

"Good. That means she's doing her part. Are you doing yours?"

I gulp and sigh. "I don't know."

"That's okay. It's a learning process. Lisa needs you to give into her. When she can exert power over you, she feels complete in her dominant role."

"But sometimes, I don't want to call her ma'am. Sometimes, I like riling her up."

She chuckles, much to my surprise. "And that, Jennie, is where it gets fun. That is what excites the sadistic side of her. That is where your masochistic side begs to be punished."

Clarity begins to form in my head. "So I'm not doing it wrong?"

"No. Not at all. Every couple is different. You two will figure out something that works—something that makes you both happy."

A smile plays at my lips. Being referred to as a couple and happy in the same statement floods my being with something that's hasn't seen the light of day in a long time. Joy.

A soft click of the door to the bedroom startles me from my thoughts and I peek out of the closet. She's still wearing her jeans and socks but her shirt is gone, as are her shoes. I cross my arms over my chest and shrug my shoulders as if to say, now what?

She's sexy as hell with all of the olive-colored flesh on her chest on display. My mouth waters and I lick my lips.

"Bunny." Her voice is a growl of warning. "Get on the bed."

I'm jerked from my lustful daydreaming as I attempt to follow her orders. I try not to let the purple get inside my head but it's fucking everywhere. As soon as I spy the bed, I make a beeline for it with my eyes half closed.

I climb up on top of the covers and keep my eyes slammed shut. She can do what she wants but I don't have to look at the sickening color all over the place. The room chills a few degrees and I know she's left. When she comes back, the sound of the door locking makes me shiver.

"I'm going to tie you up, toy."

I nod and am thankful when her warm hand grabs my ankle and I sense she's tying it to the nearest post. At least my poor butt will be safe for the time being. I'm relaxed as she makes quick, gentle work of tying up each arm and leg to the nearest post. This room is much warmer than the Hole and if I can make it through this, I think I can handle anything she throws at me.

"Open your eyes."

Except that.

I chew on my lip and give her a slight shake of my head. What's she going to do? Pry my eyelids open?

"Now, Bunny."

Another shake of my head.

"Fine, have it your way. But I will get what I want," she tells me in a calm voice.

Crack!

Something bites into my upper thigh and I cry out in shock but refuse to open my eyes. She's hitting me with something and that fucking hurt!

"Open."

"No, ma'am."

Crack!

..

..

Lisa

..

..

Her body flinches as I swat her with the small, black leather flogger Dubois purchased upon my request today while we ate dinner at the restaurant. I want her to open her eyes and tell me why she hates this room. So far, it's her only weakness and I have to know why. It's driving me fucking crazy.

"Open them.."

She clenches her eyes tight, refusing to behave. So this time, I slap one of her tits. A yelp escapes her and her pert nose turns pink as she attempts to hold in tears.

This goes on for some time; me demanding she open her eyes and her refusing. I enjoy watching her pale flesh grow red with the whelps I inflict. My cock has been hard all damn day for her but I'm not seeking release until I break her.

I will break her.

Because she's already broken me.

I nearly lost the very essence of who I am today while shopping. She was gorgeous as hell in anything she tried on. I couldn't tell her no and ended up buying half of Seattle for her. Despite my need to be firm and treat her like the toy she is, I'd found myself giving in to her every whim, indulging every one of her wishes, and following her around like a lovesick puppy. I even bought her fucking flowers because she was absolutely breathtaking when she first bent over to smell them and I wanted to see the look again. She's getting under my skin and now it's time to get under hers.

"Open. Your. Eyes."

Of course she refuses so this time, I pop her bare, spread pussy with the end of the flogger. She screams and squirms against the restraints. My body craves to kiss her everywhere—to assure her everything will be okay.

Which is exactly why I need to hurt her.

Punish her.

Make her face her fears.

So I can drink them up—drink up the terror and despondency in her eyes.

I need to shoot my load all over her abused tits and then leave her there until it dries.

Yes, that's exactly what I'll do.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Three times in a row on her pussy. Up until now, I've varied where I hit her. Now, I want to watch her suffer.

"Why won't you sleep in here, Bunny?" My voice is soft, almost caring. But I don't fucking care. Yeah, right. Even I know that's a lie.

"B-Because," she says with a ragged rush of air. "I can't."

"You can and you will."

Crack!

This continues on until she's crying and begging me to stop. I can't stop though. Everything in me craves to know the answer. It is the foundation of who she is—I can feel it.

"Do you like when I hit your sweet little pussy?"

"No!"

Crack!

She shudders and I wonder if she's lying. I slip my finger between her thighs and push into her hot center. Dripping wet.

"Fucking liar," I say with a chuckle.

Her body relaxes and I sigh. She's so damn stubborn. "Want me to stop, Bunny?"

"Yes."

Crack! Crack Crack!

Tears have stained her cheeks but she still refuses to open her eyes. I pop her on the clit several more times until she's screaming and shuddering with a wild orgasm. My toy still won't open her eyes so I try a different tactic.

Dropping the flogger, I set to untying her legs. As soon as they're free, she draws them up to her chest.

"Do you want me to make love to you so you can go to sleep, Jennie?"

Her mouth parts open and her eyes flutter. I know she wants to look at me.

"Baby, open your eyes. Focus on me. Forget the bullshit around us. I'm your drug, Jen. Look at me." My voice is firm but I cloak it in a vow to protect her.

She senses it, as if connected to me through an invisible wire, and her swollen eyes crack open. They're on me as she opens them wider. Her eyes don't dare look at anything else in the room. A possessiveness over her saturates my soul and I want to always be the only thing she sees.

"Good girl. It's always me, understand? Everything else is unimportant. I'm your master—the giver of all your orgasms, the one who fulfils your every need, the one who wants every single part of you."

She nods and smiles at me. Her eyes are on mine and they droop when I climb onto the bed, settling myself between her legs.

"Watch me while I make love to you, Jennie."

A whimper trickles out of her and I devour the way she molds to me when I'm sweet with her. It's the only way I seem to be able to find a way inside her pretty little head. The asshole in me says I'm using her to get what I want. But the realist knows I simply like the look on her face. The look that says I'm her whole fucking world.

I grab onto my cock and slide into her swollen opening. She's hot, wet, and fucking ready as hell. As soon as I push all the way into her, those gorgeous green eyes start to close.

"No, baby. You promised. Eyes on me."

She nods, biting her lip and reopens them. I drop my lips to her dry ones and kiss them until she's straining against the ropes.

"Untie me," she begs.

I thrust harder against her, increasing my pace, and shake my head. "I like you all trussed up, beautiful. You're helpless against me."

She gasps when I push her thighs up and take her deeper. "I was helpless against you the moment you dragged me into your car that first night."

Her eyes shine, crystal clear with an emotion that slices open my chest and infects my entire being. I love the look. I love the clarity. I love the undeniable certainty.

She's mine.

"Oh, God! Lisa!" Her cries are muffled with my mouth as I dive in to kiss her again. She writhes beneath me with an orgasm that soon has my dick pumping my seed into her. For a moment, we're one and the sensation takes hold of my bitter heart. When we both relax, I rest my forehead against hers.

I'd had plans for my little toy. Plans that involved treating her like the rest. Plans that were to run through the same motions to get me by.

But with her, I don't want to just get by. I want to live in the moment. Live inside of her. To take pause.

And that's a big problem.

I climb off of her so I can turn off the lights. Her eyes stay on me and she ignores everything around her, just like I told her to.

"I want you to sleep here tonight," I tell her softly.

Her wrists are still bound but she fights against them. "Please, I can't do this without you."

I need to punish her.

Force her to sleep here alone, my cum running down the crack of her ass.

That's what my toys do. That's what makes me happy. Right?

"Too bad," I tell her and opt to leave the switch on so she won't have the darkness to shroud her from her fears.

Her howl as I leave the room is partly from the loss of me and the other as the demons swallow her up. It guts me as I pad naked toward the elevator.

Leave her.

Leave her.

This is how it works.

My finger hovers over the button and I freeze.

The wails coming from the other room are chilling. They tell the story despite her refusal to do so. Her cries are agony and pain and the shit nightmares are made of. They're too much.

"Jesus," I hiss out as I haul ass back to her. The pussy in me wins when it comes to her it would seem. Every damn time. I'll do anything in this fucking world to stop the sound of the way her heart seems to bleed loudly. So fucking loudly.

"Lisa," she chokes out when I come into view in the doorway.

Not wasting time, I quickly untie her and drag her into my arms. "Let's get the fuck out of here, baby."

And we do.

..

..

A few months later . . .

I stare at the screen and attempt to focus. My mind keeps thinking about the odd back and forth game Jennie and I play when we're together. It wasn't long ago that she was broken—so fucking broken. And I was responsible for trying to make her face whatever it is that freaks her the fuck out. But I was also the one to piece her back together again. So many nights we'd curled up on the warm vent in front of the fireplace. That's where we tend to have deep, meaningful conversations. Neither of us is ready to let our guard down completely but we do enjoy each other's company, that's for damn sure, and can carry on interesting conversations. I'd even told her about the other toys since she was curious. Mostly their names and what they looked like. I think she was even jealous of Swan. Not that there was any reason to be. Swan will never be a threat to Bunny. The toy before her is gone. Forever. A distant memory.

The slurping of someone drinking coffee drags my gaze from my computer and I smirk to see her staring intently at my laptop as she drinks the "workaholic's heroin."

"Having fun there?" My eyebrow raises in amusement.

Her eyes find mine and she grins. God, she fucks with my head. Today, instead of wearing normal business attire for "work" as she makes me let her call it, she's wearing yoga pants and a pink Nike T-shirt. She's also donning thick pink socks and no shoes. After our shower this morning, she'd let her hair dry wild around her. Every time I glance over at her, I get sucked up into the beautiful vacuum that is her. It's nearly impossible to look away from her or focus on one single thing.

"You're so serious when you work." She waves her hand, gesturing at my outfit. "Don't you own anything besides black suits and white shirts?"

I roll my eyes. "Well, you're a big slacker. Your smartass is supposed to be helping me find why my company's profits have gone down and continue to despite the increase in clientele. I should fire you already."

She sticks her tongue out at me which in turn stirs my dick. "You aren't even paying me for this—you're paying me to suck your dick. And I'm hungry. When do we take a break?"

Laughing while I adjust my hardened cock, I ignore her and attempt to figure out the data in the accounting program. I've been shooting Jackson and Irene questions left and right over the past couple of months. Every clue seems to be explained away by one of them. It's pissing me off.

"Household Staff Wages. What's in that account?" Her voice is once again serious and I flick my gaze over to her.

"It's where Dubois, Bambam, and Christine's income comes from. There's nothing there. We need to be looking for any unusual account names that stand out. Anything that might be paid to an overseas account. Shit like that. My money's been going somewhere and I'm going to find out where."

She frowns. "May I see the bank statement for this account?"

"No. If you're just trying to be nosy to piss off Dubois, then it isn't going to work. Move on, Bunny."

Her eyes widen and she seems hurt. My chest does that stupid shit where it aches again. Fucking hell.

"Dammit, I'm sorry." Fine, I'll indulge my little toy. "Come sit in my lap, baby." I flash her a wolfish grin and she huffs.

"I'm not stupid, Li—ma'am. Go on, cop a feel while I peruse the account. I'll figure out what's going on."

I chuckle and log onto the accounts online. She sits on the edge of my knees and starts clicking through each line, opening up each transaction. Her ass is warm and I want to fuck her over my desk. This morning, I fucked her against the wall of my shower and it wasn't enough to satisfy me. I need her again.

Slipping my hands around to her front, I pinch her hardened nipples through her T-shirt. She may have won on her outfit choice, but I threw the "master" card down and demanded no undergarments. My toy put up absolutely no fight and granted me my wish.

"You should pay Christine more," she complains aloud.

I grunt. My housemaid makes more than any maid on the West coast. "Stop being nosy."

She wiggles her ass and continues her clicking. I slide a finger between her legs and massage her sweet pussy. Her moans are sexy as fuck and soon she's shouting.

"That's it! That's it!"

I expect her to shudder or display some other indication of her orgasm but she's pointing to the computer screen instead. Stopping my movements, I lean around her and stare at it.

"Two grand. Bid deal. The staff is able to use this account to purchase shit for the house."

She's already arguing. "Right, I see lots of those and they're pretty consistent. What's also consistent is the daily two thousand dollar withdrawals. Every day, Lisa. What do they buy for two thousand dollars a day for the past several months? Who has access to this account?"

My mind spins with her words. Bams, Christine, and Dubois all have debit cards from this account that is set up like a business account and they draw from it but this money has been taken out in person. And she's right, it happens often. Daily in fact. There was even one this morning.

"I know Bambam and Christine would never do this. But Dubois? He's questionable." She muses aloud.

But she's wrong. He's not a signer on the account, just carries a card like the other two. I'm a signer. And so was Kai.

"Shit!" I told Jackson to get him off of everything but clearly we forgot one. I didn't even think about this account.

She points to the screen. "See, the deposits come from checks written from all over your variety of accounts and businesses up until recently. Now it's just withdrawals. Whoever did this was trying to hide it by doing small amounts. What are you going to do?"

I run my fingers through my hair and growl. "I'm going to kill him."

"Dubois?"

"Jesus, no, Bunny. Kai. The fucker thought he was so damn smart."

She turns in my arms and throws an angry glare my way. "I thought he was dead. You told me you killed him."

Scowling, I shake my head. "I lied."

A choked sound comes from her and she scrambles out of my lap, heading for the door. I should go after her and apologize. But right now I need to do some damage control.

"Send Dubois in here," I call after her. "And go put on something presentable." I don't want to hurt her anymore but the damage is done. She's pissed. May as well get her to put on something sexy while I'm barking out orders.

She's already wearing something sexy. Anything she wears is sexy.

I ignore that thought and watch her fine ass jiggle all the way out the door.

All I get is a Fuck you, Lalisa along the way before my office door slams shut behind her.

Later, Bunny. I'll make it up to you with my mouth.

..

..

..