And Julie was right. It didn’t matter what she was theoretically into if he couldn’t get her through this initial terrifying beginning.
Before he could decide what to do next, or if he was actually going to follow through on his threat because she wouldn’t answer a question, she started talking.
“The other times were at Dmitri’s,” she whispered.
A tight hard lump formed in the back of Gabe’s throat at that, but he pressed on. “Were you by yourself or was it something someone made you do?”
“Well, I-I was never really by myself. But nobody made me… it was at night sometimes… when we were all supposed to be sleeping.”
So it was for some sense of comfort.
“Did you ever have orgasms then?”
“No.”
“Did you fantasize?”
Her face went dark red again and he remembered her earlier admission that she’d had fantasies of him rescuing her. Probably not sexual fantasies, but if she wasn’t specifically masturbating for pleasure, the combination made sense.
“You don’t have to answer that,” he said. Gabe couldn’t stand to be the cause of that look on her face.
Today will be the hardest, he told himself.
He had a long list of questions. He wanted to know all her sexual history. Any fantasies she might have had. Things she’d been forced to do at Dmitri’s. But this question and answer session was clearly torture for her. He was going to end up traumatizing her worse. He needed to do this a different way.
“What if I gave you a long questionnaire and you wrote your answers out? Would that be easier?”
Hope lit her features. “Yes, Master.”
Great, because watching her squirm like this was about to kill him. He certainly wanted to watch her squirm, but not like this.
Gabe pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed the in-house spa. Shannon answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Shannon, are you busy right now?”
“No, sir. It’s pretty slow.”
“I’m going to send my girl to you for waxing.”
“Just a Brazilian?”
“And anything else she needs or wants. I don’t know her personal grooming routine.”
“You got it. Send her down any time.”
“Thanks.”
Gabe disconnected the call and turned back to Julie. “Have you met Shannon?”
“T-that girl at the spa with the scars?”
Brian had left those scars. Shannon had once been at the house for the same reason most of the girls were there. She was to be trained and sold. But Brian had taken a punishment too far, and her life plan had been altered.
“Yes, the girl at the spa.”
“I met her briefly when I was touring the place, but I haven’t really been to the spa except for the quick look around.”
“And why is that? You’ve been here for nearly three months. I told you the house is at your disposal.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just haven’t.”
Gabe didn’t press for more, though he wondered if it had anything to do with her time at Dmitri’s. Surely it would be good for her to experience touch, like a massage, in a safe environment. But then, maybe she’d been afraid of that, too.
“You should go. Shannon has a whole range of services. Waxing, facials, massages, mud masks, scrubs. She also does hair. The other girls can’t go to the spa whenever they want, but you, Mina, and Annette can. You should take advantage of it.”
“Okay.”
“She’s ready for you now for a wax. When you get back, I’ll have questions ready for you.”
Julie nodded and left to go to the spa. Finally, something that didn’t make him feel like he was traumatizing her and shattering her entire world.
She returned an hour later and handed a small tube to Gabe.
“What’s this?”
“Coconut oil. Shannon said to use it to help the skin heal… from the Brazilian. She said to give it to you.”
Gabe smirked. Of course Shannon said that. “We’ll take care of that in a little while.” He handed her a detailed questionnaire, which was several pages long, attached to a clipboard and a pen and directed her out onto the balcony where she could have some privacy and space to think.
When she’d started working on them, Gabe went down to the cafeteria. “Hey Phyllis, can I get a glass of lemonade?”
She pointed to the end table with the drinks. “It’s out.”
“Thanks.”
Gabe poured a glass from the pitcher on the drink counter and took the lemonade back upstairs and out to the balcony and set it down beside Julie.
She looked deep in thought and seemed to be making some actual progress on the questions—far more than the extremely uncomfortable verbal exchange had produced.
“Thanks,” she said, when she looked up and saw the drink.
“I’m going to go pay a visit to the collar guy. I’ll be back in a bit.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead and left her to her thoughts and his questions.
39
Julie watched him leave. She stared at the golden skin of his arms, made darker by the bright white T-shirts he always wore. And that sun-kissed hair that she still somehow wanted to run her fingers through. He was absolutely beautiful in every conceivable way. Her stomach, despite all odds, still did that little flip-and-clench that made her think of a gymnast on a dismount.
The collar guy. They had a guy for that? Julie supposed it made sense. After all, Mina and Annette had very nice collars that looked like they had to have been custom made by someone. She tried to imagine a piece of jewelry like that around her neck and what it would look like. The thought of a collar like that around her throat, signaling to everyone in the house that she belonged to Gabe… well the idea didn’t bother her like she expected it to. Maybe it was the relief she felt knowing that once it was around her neck, Brian would never bother her again. She would be as safe from Brian as Annette was.
Julie wished she could shake her fears and get over the things that had happened to her at Dmitri’s. She wanted nothing more than to be able to have a relationship with Gabe that felt normal. Though the dungeon scared her, the way her body had reacted to the whole thing was definitely odd. And the way she always felt weirdly compelled to obey Gabe whenever he gave out an order… that was also disconcerting.
There were definitely things that made her question if he might be right about her somehow. When she got to the fantasy part of the questionnaire she was grateful she could write it out and not say it out loud. It sounded so silly and embarrassing and stupid and childish writing it out. She couldn’t remember having specific sexual fantasies. Ever, really. And maybe that was repression from being raised in such a religious environment. But the fantasies she did have—though not specifically sexual—did seem to weirdly and frequently revolve around things like kidnapping and pirates and rogue powerful men and other similar themes.
The mental stories themselves were innocent and tame but they always featured a strong and somewhat dangerous man... and her. She was always vulnerable and frightened, but the man always took care of and protected her. It was a weird theme to repeat over and over with no change except for the scenery. She had been raised in total safety. Sheltered. Why would she need to have fantasies like that? Unless the extreme repression of her childhood had pushed down the side of the fantasies that might have come out in her mind in a more open environment where such thoughts weren’t evil and some sign that she was bad.