It was no longer some contractual obligation to keep her sister alive.
He turned back to his email and she crossed to the bathroom. Sometimes he joined her in the shower, but this morning it seemed he had things to deal with on the computer. She hated when he was in work mode. She could tell by his focus that they wouldn’t be able to play until the evening when he got home.
Still, when she got out of the shower, she put the edible pineapple body cream on. She wouldn’t break his rules just because he wouldn’t have time to lick it off her. And anyway, she loved the smell of it. It made her feel like she was on a tropical vacation. It was sometimes hard not to think of the house as some grand resort.
She went to her spot in the room near the chair he often sat in and knelt on the floor, legs spread, eyes cast down… waiting, hoping he had a few minutes for her before work.
She heard the laptop snap shut. Then he was up and crossing the floor. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. Minutes later, the shower came on. The first week with him had been amazing. They’d spent every moment together until all her fears had melted away. But now he was back to the normal routine. It sucked.
Annette heard the shower cut off. Several more minutes passed. Then the door opened. He crossed to the walk-in closet. More time. More waiting for him to come touch her. Finally he came out, dressed in a pair of dark casual pants and a black T-shirt for the spa.
He put his laptop and glasses in his laptop case. Finally, he came over to her. Annette’s breath caught in her throat at his nearness.
He took her hands and pulled her to stand, holding her close. He whispered in her ear, “We’ll play later, kiska. I’m sorry I have a busy day today.”
Even so, he pressed a kiss against her throat, and then another on her lips, and others trailing across her collar bone. Then he paused to take each nipple into his mouth one at a time, tasting the pineapple cream. “You taste delicious,” he said. “Be good, today.”
“Always,” she said.
He winked at her, then turned and left the room.
Annette sat in a lounger beside the pool with a wide-brimmed hat shading her face still wishing he’d had more time for her this morning. She’d had very little time to angst about how wrong any of this was. And in a way, she was just grateful that once they’d settled in, Anton had turned out to be the fantasy. Every woman’s fantasy. Rich. Hot. Intelligent. Powerful. Decent. In his way.
Annette had been sure in those first few tumultuous days that he would end up some abusive monster. But it hadn’t turned out that way. They’d somehow bonded, and he’d kept her in such a frenzied aroused state and given her so much physical pleasure that it was increasingly hard to see any of this as some great sacrifice anymore.
The evil arousal cream was part of the daily ritual more than once per day. She should hate it, but she loved it. She loved the loss of control and that she couldn’t really blame herself for how shameless she was when under its spell. She was helpless to resist it or anything her master demanded of her during that time. It made things easier. It kept her from fucking up something that was bizarrely somehow working.
Though if she were a bit more honest with herself, she might admit that she also felt these things when there was no arousal cream in play. She’d often catch herself having lunch in the cafeteria, and Anton would come into the room. He’d catch her eye, and she would immediately blush and look down at her plate. She’d get a nervous flutter in her stomach which was now almost a constant companion whenever he was near, and then the excitement would push further, between her legs, and all she wanted was for him to touch her.
By the end of the first week, she’d given up all pretense of lying to herself—that she was some hostage. Maybe in the strictest sense, but by that point, she’d already stopped believing Anton would ever hurt her or her sister. If she somehow managed to get away from him, she didn’t believe he’d kill her, or even that he would send Brian to do it.
But she didn’t want to get away from him. It was a secret she held ever closer to her because she didn’t want him to know how much power he had over even her mind at this point.
He hadn’t been lying when he said he could take excellent care of her. She’d been eating so well that it took hours in the fitness room per week to stay in shape. Every need she had: material, sexual, emotional… he met them.
After a time, it began to feel that the trade was no longer her enslavement for her sister’s life and freedom, but her absolute obedience in exchange for all that Anton gave her, which made it worth doing. She often had moments where she forgot this had all started in a much less fairy tale place.
In their quieter moments, when her master would lie in bed with his laptop and reading glasses and she’d snuggle against him, there was a peaceful coexistence between them that she couldn’t explain with words. It was a visceral contentment.
She had begun to feel a sort of compulsive pathological need to please him. She’d started to care about his opinion of her. When he wasn’t at the spa working, she’d taken to making food for him instead of Phyllis. Annette wanted to be the one to cook things or make the sandwiches. She wanted to be something more to him than just sex. And she took care of not just her laundry, but his as well. She couldn’t do the dry cleaning, of course, but everything else.
She’d seen her sister several times in the intervening weeks. The first time, Janette had flung herself into her arms and cried for fifteen minutes straight. Despite daily phone calls, Annette hadn’t fully realized just how hard it must be for her sister to not see her and know she was fine. At that first meeting, she’d felt guilty that she hadn’t begged to see her sister sooner.
She just hadn’t wanted to push him.
But once Janette had settled down and gotten a good look at her and had a long talk with her, she’d finally become convinced Annette was okay. Since then she hadn’t had to worry too much about her sister. She could, instead, focus on the new reality that was her life with Anton.
He’d also taken her out of the house. By the third week, he’d thought she was ready for the ballet again. The after party had actually been fun, and she’d gotten to play with Katya, which she was surprised to find she looked forward to.
Now the house was changing significantly. For the first time, there were other girls here. Ten of them, in fact—all between nineteen and twenty-three. Anton had brought in a couple of other guys to help with training and a few guards.
The house had become a well-oiled machine. Phyllis handled the kitchen. The girls cleaned up after themselves, did their own laundry, kept their rooms clean. All the girls, including Annette, were on rotation for other chores. The trainers and guards were on the rotation as well. A lot of deliveries came to the house, but they always got delivered to a secondary location where the guys picked them up and brought them back in a large white van Brian had purchased.
Annette had gotten to know a few of the girls quite intimately and considered some of them friends, including a new girl she’d just met named Shannon.
Anton had kept Annette nude a lot at the house in the beginning, but once the other girls started arriving, he’d stopped. He’d said she was above those girls, and he wouldn’t humiliate her in front of them. From that point on, she got to dress like a regular person outside of designated play areas.