Day 3: Part 1

The Playroom

I wasn't exactly looking for a homemade breakfast or anything, but I was less than impressed with the box of cereal on the counter. Total; who the fuck eats Total that's under the age of 70? I had 45 years to go before I would be forced to eat that shit and I sure as hell wasn't starting now. I opened the nearest cupboard, finding nothing but utensils and flatware that were all well beyond my breadth of culinary knowledge.

"Slow cooker," I mumbled, staring blankly at the opened cupboard. "Crock pot. Crock pot?"

All foreign words, which was just fine because I burned grilled cheese fifty percent of the time. I'd been making the stuff since I was eight, so . . . whatever. But that was kind of what I did, break expectation boundaries and such. I wasn't impressing anyone. I slept better for it.

Only Total, it would have seemed. Though, in reality, what type of cereal did a twenty five-year-old eat, exactly? Too old for Captain Crunch but too young for assorted bran flakes. I glared at the Total for about thirty seconds after finding nothing but more flatware and foods written in various foreign languages, before settling down on a barstool. I opened the box and was about to pour some in a bowl that was left on the counter when I found a pink Post-It note in the bottom.

Bella,

Good morning!

Before you eat, please meet Master and me on the third floor. The door with the terne handle.

- Tanya

I groaned out loud and smacked my forehead on the granite countertop. What the hell is terne? More importantly, it was a god-danged miracle I was up before ten thirty and, frankly, I owed them no favors. Sure, Jasper had so ungraciously offered me a place to stay until . . . well, until I found somewhere else.

I looked at the cereal again.

I took the Post-It note out of the bowl. Was there a red-light district up in these parts? I was pretty sure I wasn't above shaking my ass and exposing other little unmentionables to snatch a few twenties. I rose from the barstool to get some milk from the fridge. Twenties, huh? Was that too little? I grabbed my right breast and squeezed. A good handful, maybe a grope-and-a-half. Fifties? I grabbed a spoon out of the utensils drawer by the stove.

Emmett would know.

My purse had been, thankfully, lying on the nightstand next to my bed when I woke up and I'd snaked my phone out from its depths before I came downstairs. I took it out.

Are there any brothels in the area?

I sent the text to Emmett and my phone dinged almost immediately.

Going to the other side, are you? That's hot.

Do you talk to your wife like that? I placed my phone on the counter and made a gesture to open the cereal, but my phone trilled again. I flipped it open.

Did you have fun last night?

I ground my teeth together. Both touché and fuck you. Triply, I might add.

Is that even a word?

Does it matter, Benedict?

Unique. And you wanted to get thrown back in the culture, so here you go. You're fucking welcome.

Yeah, except Jasper makes my skin crawl.

Good lord, did you fuck this up already?

Shut up, Emmett. Is he always like this?

Still hasn't warmed up, I see? And don't you worry your pretty little head about Jake, I got him. Look, you refuse to live with Rosalie and me and refuse to take anymore of our money for electricity. This is getting stupid. I told Jasper you got kicked out of your apartment and he agreed to let you spend some time there. Play nice. Don't be mean. And have lots of girl time.

Your balls are mine. And I'm pretty sure Jasper's a psychopath. Please pick me up.

Sorry, babe. And I won't be available to talk for a few hours, but feel free to text me to let me know you're having a good time!

I chucked the phone angrily back onto the counter, with more force than was probably necessary. I was just about to add the milk to the cereal when a loud, crackling sound burst into the kitchen. I dropped the milk jug and screamed in a whiny, high-pitched embarrassing way that would have made Jake surrender his balls.

"What the fuck?" I almost yelled.

"Bella?" It was Tanya.

"Um, yes?" I looked around the kitchen, trying to find where the voice was coming from. The crackling suggested some sort of intercom. "Where are you coming from?"

"By the fridge, next to the light switch."

I rounded the kitchen table, almost slipping in the spilled milk, and stood in front of the shiny, silver box. I smoothed down my hair and shirt for some inexplicable reason. "Are there cameras here, too?"

"Um, no?"

"Why was that a question?"

"It's weird."

"But a full-housed intercom isn't?"

She didn't say anything.

"What can I do for you, Tanya? And where are your napkins?"

"Why?"

I sighed. "I want to make a napkin play structure. You know, with swings and shit? I missed out on it as a kid and I'm trying to figure out some way to express – "

"Bella."

This time it was Jasper and his voice sufficiently 86-ed my witty response.

"Um, yes?"

"Please join Tanya and I on the third floor. I urge you to ignore whatever mess you have created for the time being."

I immediately bent down and picked up the almost empty milk jug. Its red cap was still on the counter and I attached it to the top before sticking my tongue out at the intercom box. I opened the fridge and put it in, relishing in the soft, final sound of the door as it closed behind me.

"Third door on the left," Jasper said and then the crackling stopped.

I apologized profusely to the Total for my rashness and made my way up the stairs, more than a little annoyed that breakfast was at a standstill. I licked my wrist as I got to the second floor and waiting until I reached the third to smell it. Morning breath. I scrubbed my teeth with one of my fingernails and ran my tongue along them, hoping to clear whatever I could.

Well, they didn't exactly give me time to pretty myself up. Though, to my great annoyance, I still ran my fingers through my hair before I reached the door.

Terne. Huh.

It was a vertical bar, so I pulled on it. But it didn't budge so I pushed on it. I was pretty unwilling to be deterred by a door handle, so I spread my legs shoulder-width apart like they had taught me to do when I took karate as a little kid, before throwing the entirety of my body weight against the door. It opened effortlessly this time and, as I watched the wooden floor rush up to meet me, an arm snaked around my waist and pulled me upward.

"There we go."

Jasper righted me and then stepped away quickly. "Forgive me," he said. "The room is soundproof and I was unable to hear your arrival."

He was . . . smiling? Fuck, that wasn't a question. He was pretty close to beaming as he looked down at me. I raised an eyebrow at him. His smile didn't fade, in fact, to my confused horror, it expanded. Somewhere, in the dark cobwebbed recesses of my mind, I heard Edward's voice – which was slightly squeaky – singing "See how nice he is now? I told you so, I told you so."

I focused back on Jasper's wide smile and my stomach clenched at the sight.

In one, two. Out one, two.

"Bella, are you all right?" he asked as I squeezed my eyes together, trying to swallow the saliva building in my mouth. "You seem a bit pale. It might be best if you take a seat."

"You talk weird," I blurted, spitting a tad as I did. His smile faded into a smirk. "I mean, you know, it's not weird weird, just not something you'd expect to hear nowadays. If you were from like, the 1800s or something, then I think you'd fair pretty well."

He wasn't smirking anymore, but grinning slightly. I took a deep breath. "What I meant to say was thank you for catching me and no worries because I didn't get hurt."

Jasper nodded his head at me in a very formal way and I rolled my eyes and readied my throat for a scoff, but stopped when his lips pressed into a gorgeous thin line and his eyes narrowed. His eyes were gray.

"All right, then," I said.

And that's when I noticed the room.

The ceiling was high, really high, probably about fifteen or so feet high. The walls were all an ecru-like color, though the ceiling itself was white. But what caught my eye were the things that were along the walls. Rows and rows of paddles, whips, canes, rods, and every other conceivable toy that any Dom would beg to own. Each respective category seemed to have its own little cubby around the room, though they were all upright and organized in some fashion my glazed-over eyes couldn't figure out.

"Goddamn, does that whip have nails on it?" I asked.

"Yes," Jasper said, moving from the doorway. "But I assure you, it's purely ornamental."

I considered telling him I didn't give a fuck, but I was pretty sure he didn't give a fuck about what I thought of his whip, so, for his sake, I let it go. As he walked towards the center of the room, his lithe form making even a muted stroll look disgustingly graceful, I noticed a low-rise table pushed up against one wall with a green folder on it. On the other side of the door, an identical chair to the one I was currently sitting on existed with an ottoman. Between the chairs and to the right of the door, there was an intercom.

But the bench in the middle of the room was undoubtedly the most staggering sight. Sure, the bench itself was a glorious piece of carpentry. It was made out of a dark cherry wood and topped with black leather and from my position on the chair I could see it was in an arc shape, stretching from the floor and upward so its head was pressed against the wall. But it was Tanya, sprawled half-naked and looking quite chagrined, that really made me gawk.

She was not bound to the table in the traditional sense, with the intricately laced ropes James had never mastered, but her arms were stretched above her head in a way that suggested her wrists were cuffed. The arc in the table made her back arch, causing her neck and breasts to stick up well above her hips. Both of her knees were resting on identical wood slabs alongside the bulk of the bench, also topped out with leather, and the slabs seemed to bear the brunt of her weight. I immediately recognized Tanya's strained expression; she was being punished.

Goddamn.

Jasper looked at me. "Would you like to know why Tanya is here?"

"Sure," I said.

He rounded the bench and placed his hands gently on either side of her face. "Tanya did not properly prepare your room last night before you turned in." He looked down at her. "Did you?"

"No, Master," she breathed.

"Oh, I don't – " I started, but Jasper slowly raised one of his hands up.

"Please, Bella. If you would let me speak."

I frowned.

"If you recall, Bella, I asked Tanya to prepare a room for you last night." He raised a single, perfectly sculpture eyebrow at me and, against all that was holy, I nodded in agreement. "However, she forgot to turn down the comforter of your bedding. Which is both inappropriate and inexcusable."

I squashed an urge to laugh nervously. "Seriously, it's not – "

"Bella," he said curtly. "If you speak again, I will have to ask you to leave. And," he continued, a weird glint of something unfriendly in his eyes, "if I am not mistaken, you have few options outside of my home."

My stomach churned and I was, for the first time, grateful that I hadn't eaten the Total. This room was ridiculously clean and I wasn't particularly interested in revisiting my breakfast. "Right, sorry," I mumbled.

Jasper smiled. "So, Tanya must be punished for her behavior." He walked over to the far side of the room and my eyes followed his lean legs. Something shiny but undistinguishable glinted off the tip of his shoes and I realized, with a small squeak of astonishment, that he was wearing cowboy boots.

How weirdly sexy and oddly inappropriate for Jasper. I racked my mind, trying to uncover whether he had always been wearing cowboy boots or whether it was just something he did in his playroom. I couldn't remember. He was now walking alongside the far wall, clearly looking for a whip of some kind. And, as I watched his delicious body scan the wall, I noticed that it wasn't just his shoes that were different. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans, tight throughout his legs, a leather belt with a wide, silver buckle, and a fitted Rolling Stones t-shirt that was stretched around the neck, marking its age. Around his left wrist was a two-by-two inch slab of brown leather, tied around by two thin strands of leather, holding it in place. The local symbol of a Dom.

My mouth watered.

Jasper finally found the whip that he wanted and plucked it from the wall, uncurling the length from its base.

"Tanya?"

"Y-Yes, Master?"

"The single tail?"

"Y-Yes, Master."

He turned to her, pulling his eyebrow together. "Why are you stuttering, Tanya?"

"My feet, Master."

"What is wrong with them?" He walked over to the bench and squatted down by her feet, which were painted a garish sort of hot pink, and ran his long fingers over the strap that held them together.

Holy fuck, I thought, I bet he knows how to use those fingers for all that is good.

Welcomed images of naked Jasper riding a horse, wearing his cowboy boots but nothing else, ran prettily through my mind. I must have been grinning or something, because Jasper said my name a bit curtly.

"Bella."

"Hmm?" I asked, my eyes coming back into focus. Why the hell would I imagine Jasper when his gloriousness was parading around – however unfortunately clothed – right in front of me. Though, judging by the un-amused expression on his face, we were clearly not in the same headspace.

"Is something humorous?" he asked.

"Not really," I said, trying to wipe the shit-eating grin off my face. "Sorry."

"Now, Tanya," he said, speaking to her with his eyes on me. "How many lashes?"

My stomach flipped and I thought for sure I was about to vomit. Though James had been a complete all-around type of asshole, punishment for James had truly been about pain. Unlike what I'd witnessed in other households. I was pretty sure that Jasper was evil brought to life, and the idea of seeing Tanya being hurt, well, made me a bit sick.

"Fifteen, Master."

I pulled my knees to my chest, prepared to slam my hands over my eyes if necessary. Jasper raised the whip in the air and brought it down with a solid crack that made me jump, but he hadn't hit her. He was just playing with my frayed nerves by testing it. Or something like that.

"Where are we, Tanya?"

"Green, Master."

"Count for me, please."

"Yes, Master."

The first blow came down with a crack just as loudly as the first. This time, though, I was more prepared and, to my embarrassment, my hands flew to my eyes before the whip landed.

"One," Tanya said.

Another crack and I felt bile begin to rise in my throat.

"Two."

What the fuck are you doing? Just look already. If she's bleeding all over the place, just throw up all over his perfectly clean floor and get the fuck out of here.

I separated my middle fingers and peered out at Tanya just as another lash fell. The end of the whip was hitting her straight onto her exposed stomach. But there wasn't really anything to show for it aside from a small red mark. She had three of them. Separated by maybe an inch or so. But there was no blood, no welt, no nothing. Just a mark. As though I had prodded her belly with my finger and was watching the blood rejoin the top layer of her skin.

"Five."

I was mostly startled. A little confused and quite a bit horny, only because Jasper looked like a god when he was flinging that whip, but mostly startled. Her face twisted a bit with each blow he landed. Apparently it didn't feel good, but it looked like he was barely touching her. Is this how it's supposed to be?

"Eight."

And then it felt like my world stopped for a minute. This was how it was supposed to be, wasn't it? Punishment not for pain's sake, but punishment for punishment's sake. It wasn't about pain, it was about punishment. Suddenly, I felt even more nauseous than I had before.

"Fifteen."

"Where are we?"

"Green, Master."

I looked back over at Tanya and Jasper and immediately my nausea went away. He was squatting next to the head of the bench, running one hand through her hair, wiping away the sweat from her forehead. She was frowning slightly, but leaning into his hand. He was whispering something in a very low voice, and from my position on the opposite side of the room, I couldn't hear him.

He undid her bindings and helped her off the bench. She collapsed immediately into his arms and a weird twisting sensation flashed through my stomach.

He grabbed the green folder off the table and brought her to the chair on the other side of the door, placing her on the ground between his legs. He settled himself in the chair and put the folder on his lap. She leaned backward and he ran his fingers absently through her hair.

"Bella," Jasper said to me without raising his head. "First, in this folder contain the house rules. They are both extremely important and non-negotiable." He passed the folder to me. I took it and put it on my lap, not opening it. "Second, I want to fully explain Tanya's punishment to you. I understand you are not familiar with the particular type of Dom and sub relationship Tanya and I have?"

He looked up at me and I shook my head.

"Well," he said, his eyes flashing for a second. "I am going to be relatively straight forward with you, since you truly seem like a decently smart girl."

I narrowed my eyes at him and his lips parted in a small grin. I didn't know Jasper, but from the way his top lip curled slightly over his canine teeth, I understood that his grin was not one of sunshine and roses. In fact, he looked very much like a predator. A predator posing as a house pet.

He's going to eat me, I thought absently.

With any luck, another voice inside my head snapped back.

"Tanya needs to wait on people," Jasper said. "It is ingrained within her." I opened my mouth to speak, but he waved his hand dismissively at me and I frowned deeply in response. "Her history is of no concern to you. However, I implore you to listen. In fact, I quite demand it."

"Yeah, I'm – "

He hadn't actually said anything, only cocked his head slowly to one side in a gesture that clearly said "are you talking when I'm talking?" It made me want to scowl. But it had sufficiently shut me up. He smiled.

I looked down at my hands.

"Which means," he continued, as though he hadn't been interrupted, "that you do nothing for yourself while you are in this house. If you are hungry, you ask Tanya to cook for you. If you decide to bathe, you ask her to warm the water for you. If you require your laundry washed, she does it. If you can not fall asleep, you ask her to sing you a fucking lullaby."

Fucking? Though his voice was calm to the point of disconcertment, the word sounded strange as it left his lips, almost ugly. For some inexplicable reason, I wanted to sink into the back of the overstuffed chair until I was completely immersed in the starchy leather. I would hide there, biding my time until Jasper stopped searching for me and, when the coast was really clear, would make a mad dash for the kitchen, grab my purse, and bolt out the door.

Excellent plan, Bella. Even my inner-voice was condescending. Never mind the fact that you're a walking disaster with a perma-inner ear problem. I'm not quite sure barreling through the house on the off chance that you might not fall is your best course of action here.

"Right, well, I'll make sure to do that," I said while, to my great annoyance, still staring at my hands. A rush of goosebumps ran over my arms and I watched as they sprang to life. He was fucking staring at me again. I squashed down the urge to shift uncomfortably in my seat.

When I did look up, he was smiling. I narrowed my eyes and glowered as evilly as I could at him, now fighting an urge to smack his forehead with the butt of my hand. His grin broadened a little and he looked . . . sheepish? Apologetic? I couldn't read his expression.

My anger snapped. "Would you stop staring at me, please? It's really creepy and not at all becoming of you."

For only the slightest of moments, Jasper's eyes grew wide. I mentally pumped my fists as Edward's squeaky voice congratulated me on my victory. But before I was able to break out into dance in the playroom about it, Jasper had rearranged his features into a mask of indifference.

At least, I thought it was a mask. And then he smirked.

I almost leapt across the remaining three feet between us. The room was still soundproof and I was glad I wouldn't have to worry about keeping my voice down as I strangled him. I just needed to muster up some semblance of calm and collect myself from the chair, bid Jasper and Tanya – I looked at Tanya, who was now fast asleep – bid Jasper goodbye and drive my happy ass to Emmett's.

Instead, I yelled, "What the hell is so goddamn funny?"

But Jasper just sat there with a nasty little smile on his face. When he didn't make any motion to speak, I threw my hands rather violently into the air. "You know what, never mind." I picked myself up from the chair. "Thank you for helping me yesterday, but I have to go."

But as I touched the terne door handle, my stomach clenched unexpectedly and with such viciousness that I brought both hands to it and bent over a little. I swallowed back a ridiculous amount of saliva and prayed that I wouldn't ruin my grand escape by vomiting all over the place.

In one, two. Out one, two. In one, two. Out one, two. I chanted repeatedly until my heartbeat died a bit and I felt un-nauseated enough to straighten myself. With a dignified huff, I righted the hemline of my shirt and, without looking back at Jasper, opened the door.

"Emmett is now out of town," Jasper said, his voice just as infuriatingly calm.

"No," I said, against my wishes, thinking about the text barrage I had sent Emmett while musing over the Total. "He told me to call him back in a few hours when I talked to him last."

"As he is most likely now on an airplane," Jasper said evenly. The coolness of his voice was gone now. Instead, it deepened and a soft drawl that hadn't been present before now crept around the edges of his words, softening them. I found this change of inflection much more alarming than any of the arrogant words that had preceded it.

I turned to face him. He was no longer smiling, though his head was bowed and he was looking at me from the tops of his eyes, one hand still playing absently with Tanya's hair. He blinked once, slowly, and then raised his eyebrows a little.

"Well," I said, trying to put a little sarcasm and condescension into my voice, but it shook all the same. "Since you seem to know so much about Emmett's whereabouts, care to tell me when he'll be back?"

"I do not know," he said, still looking at me.

I crossed my arms as more goosebumps prickled them. "So, you just agreed to let me stay here for what, an indefinite amount of time?"

"I agreed to keep you safe," he said, a ghost of a smile turning the edges of his mouth upward. "As far as I am aware, keeping someone safe does not usually dictate an expiration date."

"Right," I said, "well, as fun as your wit and complete lack of tact are – "

"Tact is just lying for grown ups."

I shut my mouth so quickly I felt my teeth clank together. "What?"

"Tact," he said, repeating the word slowly, "is just lying for grown ups."

Something felt inherently wrong with his statement, though with goosebumps covering me from head to foot and a weird, barely controlled anger causing the wet pounding of my heart in my ears, I couldn't articulate my reason for it.

"I'm going to go," I said in a small voice that angered me further. "To m-my mother's."

"I suppose you will require some money for gas? If I remember correctly," he said, smiling in a self-deprecatory way, "and I am sure I do, your mother lives about two hours from here?"

"I have gas money," I said, crossing my arms tighter against my chest, "but thanks."

"I was not offering assistance," he said, his smile fading slightly. "But thanks for your blind assumptions."

I paused, completely at a loss for how to respond. I had no options. The asshole was right, my mother lived too far away, my father was dead, Emmett may or may not be out of town, and . . . that was it. I had no options.

I grinned at Jasper. I had one option.

Jasper finally turned his gaze from me and stared, still smiling slightly, at the top of Tanya's head. After a few moments of silence, I turned around, pulled on the terne handle, and left. I walked with some composure down the third floor hallway, but when I got to the landing I bolted down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen, grabbing my purse where I had left it on top of the island. I hesitated for only a minute before ignoring the puddle of milk that remained on the floor. I did, however, swipe the unopened box of Total off the counter.

It was an immense surprise, and then no surprise at all, that I had taken the green folder with me.