A/N: Do you know how weird it is writing light BDSM when your mom's in the room and figures she needs to clean your closet? It's really unsettling, friends. By the way, there's going to be mentions of light BDSM in this chapter, in case you wanted to know. It's not going to get too graphic, though. It's a glass of iced tea with a lemon wedge on the side. It's not exactly in your tea, but it's there. Are we getting the metaphor? Golly, I sure hope so. Enjoy!

Mike's penthouse was nicer than the one we had in St. Petersburg. And probably twice the size. This place was gorgeous. It looked like the epitome of luxury. Very Victorian London gentlemen's club. And it only got better the further we walked in. Once we passed the bookshelf lined entryway, it opened up into the warm, rich living room. This felt like one of those places where I'd get yelled at for touching anything.

SWAT!

I let out a little yelp as Mike slapped my ass before I got the chance to sit down, "Hello…"

"You stay here, pet," Mike ordered, gesturing to the overly stuffed, black leather couch. I had a feeling it would swallow me on impact.

"Where are you going, Master?" I asked eagerly, curious about what he had in store for me.

"Well," he went into his kitchen, digging through the cabinets, "I'd hate for my little pet to get hungry while we're playing. You had a long practice, didn't you?"

"Yes," I laid my head on the arm of the couch. My legs were killing me and all the falls were finally starting to take their toll. If I sat like this any longer, I knew damn well I would fall asleep.

"You sound like it," Mike noticed, "Maybe we'll have to hold off on the rough shit for right now. I saw how hard you went today. A little rest won't kill you. Is there anything specific you'd like to eat, Violet?"

Honestly, I'd kill a man for Victor's pelmeni right now. A big bowl of them, "Do you know how to make pelmeni? Some of those would hit the spot."

"I don't even know what that is," he joined me, giving me the silent go ahead to ball up in his lap, "What's pelmeni?"

"They're dumplings, essentially," I cuddled into him, "It's Russian food. I don't know why, but I have a horrible craving for Russian food."

"My little angel knows quite a bit about Russia," Mike brushed my hair out of my face, "How did she get so smart?"

"I used to live there," I held back a yawn, "I spent seven years in St. Petersburg."

"What would you be doing all the way in Russia?" he asked, cradling me delicately in his arms.

"Skating," I explained, "Raising my boys while my ex-husband was gone. It was great while it lasted."

"Your ex-husband would leave you?" Mike kissed the top of my head, "How could he? I don't even like when you go home at the end of our playtime. It takes away from this. You do like when we do this, right, sweetheart?"

"Absolutely," I turned into a puddle as he started scratching my head all over. Damn, this felt good.

"Now, he propped me up a bit, keeping those scratches coming, "I know you're tired, but I need you to stay with me. Can you do that for Master?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl," Master praised, rewarding me with a few soft, sweet kisses, "You know Master wants to make you happy. Making you happy is how I show you I love you and it makes me happy, too. So, I need to ask you one thing."

"Of course," I allowed, "What's on your mind, Master? What do you want to know?"

"How exactly do you make pelmeni?" Mike wondered, "I'd still hate for my pet to go hungry."

"Actually," I rested my head on his shoulder, "I've never made pelmeni myself. I mean, I've tried, but it just turns into a mess."

"In that case," he suggested, "We could always order some."

"No," I shook my head, "None of the restaurants in tow can do it right. To my knowledge, only one person in all of New York can make good pelmeni and I'm pretty sure he's busy right now."

"Look at that," Mike threw me over his knees, "Is my perfect, well-behaved pet being picky?"

"I wouldn't say picky…"

SWAT!

"I would," Mike growled in my ear, sending more of a chill through my body than the smack on my ass, "Now, since we can't get pelmeni that's to your standards, what else can we get to fill that cute little belly of yours?"

"There's a ramen shop in the East Village," I told him, "They deliver. They're really good, too."

"I'm not eating that garbage."

"No," I clarified, "Real ramen is nothing like the instant stuff. Please, Master. Spicy ramen?"

Mike thought it over for a second or two, still not totally sold, "Fine. Stay here. I'll order you some spicy ramen."

"Thank you, Master," I went back to laying on the couch by myself, ready to take a nap. I haven't had a good, spicy ramen since we were in Japan. When we go back for competition, I'm binging. Mmm…The Red Dragon ramen house in Shibuya and the kung pao ramen. Mmm…I need that in my life like yesterday. That sounds even better than the pelmeni.

"Violet," Mike called out, "What do you want?"

"Pork, ginger broth, one egg, green onion, soy sauce and sriracha on the side!" I yelled back. I knew exactly what I wanted. I've ordered enough ramen in my life to know how to order. It's like getting Chipotle, except better. Even in my half-asleep state, I still knew my ramen order like the back of my hand.

"Well then," he came back in and threw himself into the couch, "We have approximately an hour until food gets here. How, my dear pet, shall we pass the time?"

"Can I take a nap?" I was almost there. A few more minutes with my eyes closed and I'd be asleep. I curled into Mike's lap, making myself comfortable.

"You really are tired, aren't you, Violet?" Mike ran his hand down my spine.

"Uh-huh," I sighed out.

"Oh, baby," he cuddled me, "Go ahead and take a nap. I'll wake you when food's here, ok?"

"Ok," I yawned, letting my eyes finally shut.

"But," Mike forced my gaze, "When you wake up and we're done eating, you and I are going to log in some hours together. I hope you know that."

"Yes, sir," I agreed quickly. That might have woken me up a little more. Regardless, I needed the nap. Slowly, I shut my eyes again and drifted off. A sudden wave of nostalgia hit me. Way back when, before Victor and I got the boys, naps in the hotels were a regular thing. His thick, muscular thighs made for such a good pillow. They still do. It made me curious. What is he up to right now? Practicing with Yuri, maybe? Maybe with Yurio, too. It's weird to think about my boys when I'm in the lap of another man…

A little while later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I didn't want to move. Then, a string of kisses traced up my neck, "Violet…Wake up, sweetheart."

Even better, a spicy scent filled my nose. Mmm…Ramen's here. I opened my eyes and saw the bag sitting on the table. God. Bless. That woke me up, "Good morning."

"Good morning," Mike sat me up, "Hungry?"

"Starving," I rubbed my eye.

"We can't have that," he got my bowl for me, "Do you want a fork or chopsticks?"

"Chopsticks," I insisted, "My god, you don't eat good ramen with fork. That's like an insult."

"Alright," Mike got me a pair from the bag, "Here. You'll have to show me how to use them. I've never been good with chopsticks."

"It's real simple," I promised, "Hold your first one like a pencil, put the second one on top, wedge your finger between them, and use. Easy."

"You're American, though," he struggled a bit, "What would we ever need chopsticks for?"

"I've been to Japan many times," I told him, "If I don't use chopsticks there, I get yelled at. Either by my ex-husband or my son."

"Your son is Russian."

"My other son is Japanese."

"How many kids do you have?" Mike gasped, giving up on them altogether.

"Two," I could've sworn I told him that, "We adopted them together. I couldn't say no to one, my ex-husband couldn't say no to another, so we walked out with two babies instead of one."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to wrap my head around that," he tossed them aside and got a fork out of the kitchen, "You've been a mom to two little boys, one of which I've kind of met, and yet, I've also seen your ankles behind your head and you kneeling at my feet. It's a weird juxtaposition to think about."

"I'm more than just a mom," I reminded him, draping a noodle in my mouth. I forgot how good real ramen was, "I'm a woman, too."

"You're not just a woman, though," Mike joined me, laying it on even thicker, "You're my pet, too. You know, I kind of want to go back to Cosmos tonight. Maybe we could try a room with a window this time. Go with a voyeurism thing."

"No," I shook my head, "I don't like that. Other people don't need to see me naked or in compromising positions. I'm sorry, but the chances of that happening are pretty slim. I don't need to be censored on magazine covers. Pictures like that would fetch a high price, I'm sure."

"Ok," he let it go, "I understand. But Violet, there are ways around that. Voyeurism and costumes all in the same go? My god, is it my birthday?"

"Not that I know of," I giggled, stuffing my face, "I don't know. One little thing slips and suddenly, people know who I am."

"How famous are you?" Mike fed me a bite.

"I wouldn't say famous," I blushed, "But I'm pretty well known in the skating world. Not necessarily for my skating, though."

"What else would you be known for?"

"I..." I bit my lip, "I don't want to get into that."

"Come on, Violet," he pried, "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Malyshka," I spoke softly. I never thought I'd have to use the safe word outside of sexy times.

"That bad, huh?" Mike stopped, "Or is it just a touchy subject?"

"It's one of those things that revolves around my divorce," I skirted around it, "But like I said, I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well then," he put his empty bowl back on the coffee table, "Why not a little something, something to get your mind off this unpleasantness?"

I see where he's going with this. Without thinking, I turned up the charm, "And what did you have in mind, Master?"

"Come with me," Mike extended his hand, "I think it's time I show you my bedroom."

Who was I to say no? I took Master's hand and the two of us walked into his bedroom. Deep reds decorated the room to no surprise. This place was dripping with sex. It only made me wonder how many other pets my master has taken on…Or still has. He was comfortable enough to keep the handcuffs hanging around the bedpost, so I couldn't help myself.

"Violet," he sat me at the edge of his king-sized bed, sinking me into the silk sheets, "I have a present for you."

"What kind of present?" I wondered, perking up a bit.

"Stay here, pet," Master ordered, "I have to go get it."

"Ok," I could hardly contain myself. A present from Master? Already? We only started doing this recently.

"Here," Mike came back in with a box in his hand. A long box. Like…A jewelry box, "Open it, sweetheart."

That scared me a bit. Not going to lie. I wasn't expecting presents today, but I'm not complaining. Slowly, I cracked open the box to find a thin, purple collar laying in the lining with a little silver bell and a tag on it, "Master, what's this for?"

"A little reminder," he took it out of the box and wrapped it around my neck, doing the buckle in the back, "You don't have to wear this all the time, but in here and at Cosmos, I want this on you. It's even got your name on the tag. You are my pet and I want people to know that you're off limits. Purple is my usual color. The fact that it's also your name is a happy accident. What do you say to Master?"

"Thank you, Master," I got in his lap, kissing his cheek.

"That's my girl," Mike held me against his chest, "I got you another one, too. But your other collar is more of a choker. Something you'll be able to wear all the time. But we don't need that one right now. How about we get things started? Just like we did last time?"

"Yes, Master," I knelt down at his feet, getting the same rush I had at Cosmos. Only this time, I didn't have the absinthe buzz helping me along. Master was going to have to work for it. Sure, the collar thing was a little weird, but to each their own. Who was I to judge? I was just as much of a willing participant in this as he was. This was Master's sandbox and I had to play by his rules. When I play by Master's rules, I get mind blowing sex in the middle of the afternoon. And I have no room to complain.

"Wow, Vi," Mike cuddled me, "You really are a little acrobat, aren't you?"

"I try," I curled into his chest, my body aching all over the place.

"Hey," he took notice, "You're awfully tense, baby. You ok?"

"Yeah," I tried stretching out the pain, but no such luck, "Some of the old war wounds are being a dick right now. I'll be alright."

"You know what would help that?" Mike suggested, "A nice, long, hot bath."

"It would," I agreed, "But I don't know if I got that kind of time."

"Then, how about a shower?" he kissed all over my neck.

"That does sound nice," I got up from the bed and gathered up my clothes.

"Where are you going, Violet?" Mike wondered.

"Uh…" I wasn't sure what he was getting at here, "Home?"

"I was thinking," he followed me, wrapping his arms around me, "You and I could go take that shower together. How does that sound?"

It was knocking on six o'clock and I really should be heading home, but I didn't have anywhere else to be, "Ok."

"Come on," Mike pulled me along into the bathroom and started the water. I feel like if he would've brought me to his bathtub, my head would've gone to an entirely different place and certain names would slip. He didn't need that.

Although…Master did insist he washed me in the name of him taking care of his pet. And cuddling under the showerhead was nice, too. He ran a warm washcloth down my back and paid special attention to my bruises on my legs, marking them each with a gentle kiss. Mike took very good care of me. When we got out, we just laid on his bed, completely content. If I wasn't careful, I'd fall back asleep here.

Ring, ring!

"That's me," I groaned, reaching over to the nightstand, "It's my ex-husband."

"Let it go to voicemail," Mike traced his finger down my face, "I'm sure if it's important, he'll text you."

"You're right," I left it alone for now and we went back to our peaceful quiet.

"Hey," he thought, "Let's go back to Cosmos tonight. What do you think about that?"

"I really don't feel like going out," I whined, "Do we have to?"

"No…"

Ring, ring!

"Guess who?" I checked my phone again. Victor's cute little face lit up my screen.

"Just turn your phone off," Mike took my phone away from me, "And how about the two of us have some more fun?"

My hips felt like they were going to fall off, but this was so damn addicting, "Fun sounds good."

And after another round, Mike sent me home. It really was getting late and I had no intentions of spending the day with Master, but I'm glad I did. My body felt like a noodle, but totally worth sending Gene home early. Now, for the rest of the night to myself. Maybe I'll turn on the hot tub, pour a glass of red, kick my feet up, and call it a night.

"WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?!" Victor stood at my door, ready to beat the shit out of me.

"I went out," I put my key in the lock.

"No," he grabbed me by the wrist, "We need to talk and we need to talk now."

"Where the hell…?" I stumbled behind him, "Victor, what are we doing?"

"You just disappear!" Victor threw me on his couch, "You've been out every night for the past week partying! What is going on with you, Violet?"

"I'm just having a little fun," I shook him off, "What's so bad about that?"

"Tomorrow," he demanded, "Your ass is mine. I don't care what else you have going on. You. Are. Mine."

"Yes, sir." Now wasn't the time to piss him off any more. Usually, Victor's anger was so passive aggressive. I was waiting for him to break into Russian obscenities.

"Now, go back to your place," Victor started to get into that calm state of anger that got even scarier, "Go to bed."

"Yes, sir." I got up and started going home. I've seen Victor pissed, but never that pissed…

A/N: I'm soooooooo sorry this is up hella late. But we have angry Victor. We have tired Violet. And a Lumi that's really behind. But feel free to sound off and I'll answer any questions you may have. See you next chapter! xx