It’s not so bad, though. It’s boring of course, but it’s better than the way my life used to be. Plus, the amount of money I stand to make for this is astronomical, and all I have to do is keep myself as busy as possible.
It’s like a beautiful and comfortable prison, or like a playpen for a loved pet. Maybe that’s exactly what he wants it to be. I am his little pet, after all.
There are much worse things to be. There are worse places to be, too. I’ve been in a few of them. I can remember one beat-up, decrepit house that Derek and I stayed in for a week or two back in the deepest throes of our addiction together, just before he died. That place was a mold-infested rat’s nest and yet we slept there, ate there, fucked there, and got high there for almost a week straight. We barely left that place and it felt like paradise.
Mostly because I was high out of my mind. I feel so disgusted and embarrassed to look back on those days. I’ve worked so hard to better myself, to improve over the junky I used to be. But that junky is always there, buried in the back of my mind, and every day I fear she’ll break free and take over again.
I just have to make sure that doesn’t happen. I have so much to lose now.
Around noon, Jenkins comes with my lunch. He wheels it in on a cart like usual, and it smells amazing. As he turns to leave, I stand up from the couch. We don’t normally talk, but today I suddenly feel a little bold.
“Excuse me,” I say.
He pauses and turns back to me. “Yes?” he asks, barely concealing his disdain.
What a jerk. The man acts like giving me food is like feeding a lizard or something.
“I was wondering if I can go for a walk,” I say. “I’m just cooped up in here all day. I just hoped I could go around the block.”
He pauses, his frown deepening. “Did Mr. Locks explain the rules to you?” he says.
“He did. I just hoped I could get permission from you.”
He shakes his head. “Permission denied.”
I pause, surprised. “It’s just around the block. You can come with me if you want.”
“No, thank you,” he says. “I’m a very busy man. I don’t have time to escort an... escort around the block.”
I sigh, understanding. I guess it is pretty obvious what I am. And clearly Jenkins doesn’t approve. I can’t say I really blame him or am surprised. He probably has Ethan’s best interests at heart, and is afraid that I’m here to rob them all blind.
I’m not, of course. I’m here to make Ethan happy. I’m here to do my job. But I can’t really explain that to this man. He’s clearly too proud and too stubborn to ever really get it.
“Thanks,” I say, sitting back down.
“Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He turns and leaves without another word.
I sigh, stretching my legs. I’m so bored and cooped up. I get up and walk out onto the balcony, enjoying the fresh air. The city stretches out below me and I pass some time watching the people walk down the sidewalk, wishing I could be one of them, but knowing I’d never really trade places with any of them for anything.
Despite all the difficulties, I am where I want to be.
Hours pass, dinner comes and goes, and I’m almost ready to give up on another visit from Ethan when there’s a gentle knock at the door. I’m wearing my usual yoga pants and t-shirt, although I have on makeup and my hair is pulled up into a messy bun. I’m obeying his commands more or less. I wouldn’t wear makeup all day like this if I weren’t going to see anyone, but I can’t let myself fall apart completely. I have to put in some sort of effort for him at least, even if he wants me to be myself.
Ethan steps into the room, looking as handsome as always. I put down my book and smile at him, surprised at the excitement that I feel in my stomach.
“How was work?” I ask him.
He grins at me. “Work was fine. Couldn’t wait to leave.”
“Why’s that?”
He walks over to me and sits down on the chair across from me. “I wanted to see you. And to apologize for last night.”
“There’s nothing to apologize about.”
“I was an ass. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”
“You have things that you don’t want to talk about. I get it.”
He sighs and leans back in the chair. I can see how tired he is suddenly, and I realize that he can’t sleep more than a few hours every night. His job is clearly demanding a lot of him, and he gives it everything he can.
He probably doesn’t have time to get close to people. When he first bought me, I wondered why a man like Ethan could possibly want someone like me.
I still feel unworthy. I am unworthy, truth be told, but now at least I understand why he’d want to buy me. Ethan doesn’t have time to meet women and to fall in love like normal people. He’s working and living at an entirely different level, one that most normal people can’t even imagine. He makes a lot of money, but he sacrifices a lot for it.
I see all of that in a sudden flash of insight as I watch his face. He looks back at me curiously, head cocked to one side.
“What?” he asks.
I pause for a second, trying to decide how to answer him. “I want to go for a walk,” I say quickly, blurting it out. I regret it right away.
“Do you?” He leans forward, smiling. “Are you bored in here?”
“I just feel like I need to exercise.
“There’s a treadmill in the other room. And you can go onto the balcony for fresh air.”
“It’s not the same.”
His smile gets bigger. “Didn’t I punish you for this already?”
I nod, feeling a thrill run through me. “You did. But I don’t care. I want to go outside.”
“No,” he says, and I can see him warming up to the game. “Do I need to punish you again?”
“Yes,” I say simply. “I won’t learn otherwise.”
His grin gets huge as he stands. “Good girl,” he says. “You’re learning.”
He walks toward me and I watch him, heart hammering in my chest. He leans down and takes my arm, pulling me to my feet, then roughly pulls me toward the bed.
“Ethan!” I say.
“I’m sorry, am I being too hard with you?” he asks, smirking at me. He pulls me toward him, hands on my hips, and I let out a soft moan.
“Is this more like what you want?” he asks, his lips on my neck. I throw my arms around him.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“But this isn’t a punishment.” He grabs my hair, tipping my head back. I gasp as he kisses my throat. “You just want pleasure. But you can’t have pleasure without pain.”
“Who says?” I ask.
“I do.” He smirks at me and pulls back, still holding my hair. He walks me over to the foot of the bed. “Down on your knees,” he commands.
I obey, falling to my knees. He pulls the tie off his neck then takes my wrists, both of them together, and wraps the silk tie around them. He takes my hands and puts them above my head before tying me to the top of the headboard.
When he’s done, I’m down on my knees in front of him, hands above my head. I test the bond but it’s expertly tied, tight but not so tight that it’s cutting off circulation. He steps back and looks at me.