Page 15

Vivian

I took a big stretch when I woke in the morning, then stopped halfway through.

Where the hell am I?

The scent hit me first: something clean and masculine, tinged with soap and sandalwood. Jeff . Or, as he liked to be referred to as, Sir .

I looked around the room; it was exactly how I envisioned his bedroom would look: all clean lines and muted tones.

The slate-grey walls matched the fluffy comforter and window coverings, giving the space a nice cool, masculine feel, while the dark wood furniture added warmth.

Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one wall, the kind that probably let in a flood of morning light if the electronic shades weren’t lowered like they were now.

It was minimalist, but not cold. Everything looked expensive and perfectly arranged. Like him.

Okay, so I figured out where I was, but the bigger question of why I was there had yet to be resolved.

His side of the mattress was empty, but the sheets were still warm. I was naked, except for the collar around my neck.

The events of last night came back to me. I remembered how he’d held me in his arms, whispering sweet words while running his hand up and down my back to comfort me.

I think he’d even called me “baby”.

And now I woke up in his bed—without his cock gagging me.

I got out of bed and went to use the bathroom in the guest room I’d been using, After brushing my teeth and hair, and washing my face, I pulled the white t-shirt of his that I’d been wearing over my head and made my way down the stairs.

My bare feet moved across the cool hardwood as I followed the smell of coffee.

I wasn’t sure what I expected, but the sight of him shirtless at the kitchen island, tablet in one hand and a spatula in the other, caught me off guard.

He looked relaxed, almost domestic. A far cry from the man who’d made me squirt in front of a roomful of men just thirty-six hours earlier.

He didn’t look up right away. Just said, “Good morning, baby. Shower, then come eat. Don’t take too long—I’m making breakfast.”

Baby?

“Oh, okay.” I quickly added, “Sir,” because I still wasn’t sure what was happening.

I turned without another word and headed back to the bathroom to start the shower.

As I waited for the water to warm up, I took off the t-shirt and unclasped the collar, carefully setting it on the vanity, far from the sink so there wouldn’t be any accidents.

The hot water soothed my aching muscles and washed away the dried cum and lube, but it did nothing to help with the confusion swirling in my head.

Last night, he’d held me. Whispered to me. He’d called me baby and let me sleep in his bed.

I remembered feeling safe in his arms

Could someone so cold also be capable of tenderness?

I stepped out and dried off quickly then ran a brush through my wet hair.

The black leather collar sitting in stark contrast to the white marble reminded me that, no, this wasn’t romance. This was transactional. I’d sold myself to him. So, whether he chose to be kind or cruel, it didn’t matter. I was still just his property for the month.

But something in me wanted to believe this could be more. Maybe he was seeing me as something more than the whore he’d bought.

But then I went downstairs, and that thought evaporated into thin air.

~~~~

I walked back into the kitchen, still damp from the shower with Jeff’s collar once again secured around my neck.

He didn’t look at me. Just said, “Island. Up. Spread your legs.”

I hesitated for a second, then climbed onto the counter without a word. The marble felt cool against my skin as I spread my legs like he wanted.

He turned toward the stove again and flipped something in the pan, like this was normal. Like my pussy on display was as routine as making eggs.

He didn’t touch me at first. Just looked.

Then, casually, he reached over and ran two fingers between my folds before smirking. “You’re wet, whore.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know if it was from the shower or from being objectified. I guess to him, it didn’t matter.

Another minute passed with my legs spread wide. He plated breakfast like nothing was out of place. Then his fingers brushed my clit, and he smirked again when I flinched.

My face burned. Not from embarrassment at having my pussy on display, but from how wet I knew I was becoming. Again. Just from being looked at and touched like a thing.

I hated how easy I made it for him.

But I didn’t move. I stayed spread open, like his obedient whore on the counter, because that’s what I was. That’s what I’d agreed to be for the low, low price of one hundred thousand dollars.

Maybe the worst part wasn’t being owned and used for his pleasure. It was how much I liked it.

****

Jeff

I let her eat at the table with me.

She looked unsure when I pulled out the chair, like it might be a trick. It wasn’t. I just wanted to see her across from me, naked but for the collar. Mine.

I cut into my omelet and said, “What are you majoring in?”

She paused mid-bite to answer, “Psychology.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t sure why I thought it’d be something like business or education.

After taking a swig of coffee, I asked, “Favorite subject?”

“Social deviance.” She smiled faintly, then pressed her lips together to quell it.

Of course it was.

I nodded. “That explains some things.”

She didn’t respond, just watched me for a moment. “Did you always want to be a doctor?”

“No, I have a trust fund, so I never thought much about what I wanted to be when I grew up while I was younger.” I took a bite of my breakfast. “But by my second year in college, I realized I wanted to actually do something with my life. Do something that mattered. Medicine seemed to check all the boxes.”

She nodded. “Do you like it?”

“I like having a purpose. And I like being in control.”

She snorted, then her hand flew to her mouth to try to cover it up.

I couldn’t help but smile. I mean, she wasn’t wrong to laugh at that.

I decided to let it slide and continued. “And the pay is decent. I was able to buy this house without dipping into my trust.”

“It’s a beautiful home,” she said softly.

I looked around the kitchen and tried to see it through her eyes. “I’m comfortable here. Plus, the block is quiet, and my neighbors aren’t too nosy.”

She looked down at her plate and pushed the omelet around with her fork. It was obvious she was trying to think of something to add. Finally, she asked, “What’s your favorite food?”

I smiled. “Whatever you eat off my cock.”

Her face turned up, her lips curled in a grin as she shook her head subtly at me, like I was her boyfriend whose jokes she was tolerating.

I liked that idea more than I should have.

We finished in silence after that. But it wasn’t tense. Just… comfortable.

And that was the problem.

This was starting to feel normal.

And normal was dangerous. It made it too easy to forget she wasn’t mine because she wanted to be. It was because I bought her. Just like every woman before her.