by Bella Jewel
I had my two days off yesterday, to which I went and collected some more stuff from my apartment and spent a few nights there, coming over here during the day to tidy a few things up, but it was mostly pretty casual. This morning, I’m back in for my five-day stay and, honestly, I’m relieved. I really do love being here, it’s an escape from reality, without a doubt.
I walk into the house just after seven in the morning.
I don’t see Mason or hear anything as I get to work figuring out what needs to be done during the week. Mason said he’d leave a list, and I find that list on the counter. Picking it up, I read over it. He needs washing done, cleaning, shopping, and he wants some mail posted as well as some letters delivered to some place in town. Right. I can handle that. I glance around the big, empty house and exhale.
I’ll go upstairs and start with his room.
I always start with his room, just in case he comes home and wants to use it.
I move up the stairs and toward the door at the end of the hall. Mason’s room is massive, I’m talking huge, it’s probably the size of my apartment. When I reach the door, I go to turn the handle but realize it’s locked. I wonder if he’s still in there? I knock a few times, wait, then knock some more. Nothing happens. Pursing my lips, I go back downstairs and take the spare set of keys for all the rooms. He showed me where they were when I first started just in case I ever needed them and he wasn’t here.
He must have accidentally locked his room.
I walk back up and use the key to unlock the door. Then I step inside and stop dead in my tracks. My eyes widen, and I stare for what seems like a few really long minutes, blinking at the sight in front of me.
There is a woman tied to his bed. She’s cuffed in a perfect cross, legs and arms outstretched, and she’s butt naked. Everything on display. She’s wearing a ball gag in her mouth, and a mask that covers her eyes. Oh. My. Lord.
I glance around the room, feeling like I’ve just stepped into a BDSM club. I can’t see Mason. Did he leave this poor girl here? Alone? Where the hell is he? Did he go out to get coffee? Breakfast? Or did he simply forget about her? I bite my bottom lip and glance back at the girl, then figure what the hell, she might want to be freed. I’m going to see if she’s okay.
I walk over and say carefully, “Hi there, I’m Saskia. Mason’s maid.”
The girl squirms.
I reach over, trying not to look at her ridiculously perfect body, and pull the mask off her eyes. She stares up at me, wide eyes, mouth still filled with that weird looking ball.
“I’m going to take this gag off. I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you, believe me, I feel you, it’s not every day you find a woman tied to a bed in a house you’re cleaning.”
She starts shaking her head as I reach over and unbuckle the ball gag. The moment it leaves her lips, she growls, “Put it back in! Immediately!”
I blink. “Pardon me?”
“Hurry up. If he knows I took it off, I’ll be punished.”
I snort. “Punished … for what? Talking? You’re kidding, right?”
“Listen here, little girl,” she snaps. “Just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it is wrong. This is our thing. Mine and Mason’s. Now, put the gag back on and get the hell out.”
I cross my arms and stare down at her. “You listen here, lady. I don’t take kindly to orders, especially not from women who are tied to a damned bed. You do know I have the higher power here?”
She scowls at me. “Who the hell are you anyway?”
“I said, I’m his maid.”
“You look like a teenager. Go back and play with your friends and put that back in my mouth.”
I cock a hip and raise my brows. “What happens, exactly, if I don’t?”
She purses her lips like she’s going to lose her mind. I’m still trying to avoid looking at her but, honestly, everything is out there on display. The woman is spectacular, and I suddenly do feel like a teenager in comparison. Why the hell aren’t my boobs that big and round? And my skin so golden and tanned? Damn her. I’m not even going to look at her lady parts, because I bet they’re perfect too.
Is this what Mason is into?
Women who he can dominate and leave tied to his bed while he goes and does whatever the hell he wants?
“You don’t want to know; your little mind couldn’t handle it.”
She’s pissing me off now.
She is throwing around insults, and she’s the one tied to the bed.
“I don’t particularly like how you’re speaking to me. I’m not the one, lady, who is tied to a bed. Maybe it’s your mind that’s little. Don’t you have better things to do than to be a man’s little toy?”
She goes red and snaps, “You wouldn’t know what you’re talking about. You probably have missionary sex and that’s it. Maybe you should try it, do you good to learn to shut that mouth.”
I snort. “Get over yourself. I’m going to call Mason and find out what the hell to do with you.”
She shakes her head. “Do not call him. Put the ball back in my mouth and leave the room. Go on with your little day, and you can hear what happens later when he comes home and praises me for being a good girl.”
I laugh. “A good girl, seriously? You’re a grown woman.”
She goes red again.
“And you’re a bratty little maid, now get out.”
“Really,” I mutter as I pull out my phone. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
I dial Mason’s number and put the phone to my ear, waiting for it to ring. It does, three times, before he finally answers. “What?”
“Last time I checked, the greeting was hello. Not what. Didn’t you learn any manners in school?”
He exhales. “What do you want, Saskia?”
Grumpy.
“I just wanted to let you know, I came across your play thing tied to your bed. I have to tell you, she’s not a very nice woman. Whatever punishment you’re giving, it’s clearly not working.”
He growls, low and deep. “What the fuck are you doin’ in my room?”
“Mason,” I say calmly, “I’m your maid. I clean your house. I live in your house. What do you think I was doing in your room? I wasn’t having a party with your clothes.”
He growls again. “The door was fuckin’ locked.”
“Yes. It was. And I thought it was by mistake, so I unlocked it and now I’m getting bad mouthed by Barbie here, because I took this stupid ball out of her mouth.”
“Put the fuckin’ thing back and get out.”
I raise my brows. “You can’t be serious? You’re going to leave her here all day?”
“Yeah, I’m goin’ to leave her there all day.”
“Why?” I gasp. “What if she needs to pee? Or,” I whisper low, “worse…”
“She holds it in. She does as she’s told. Which is somethin’ you should fuckin’ try and learn.”
“Being tied to a bed with a ball gag in your mouth is hardly doing as you’re told. You don’t get much choice.”
“Put it back in and leave her there,” he snaps.
I huff. “Fine, but I swear to god I am not cleaning her pee if she can’t hold it in. Should I give her a drink?”
“No,” he growls.
“Food? Lunch maybe?”
“Fuck me. No.”
“What about if she gets bored, can I turn the television on?”
“I swear to fuck I’m goin’ to come in there and tie you to the fuckin’ bed if you don’t shut that pretty little mouth.”
“You think my mouth is pretty?”
He makes a long, drawn-out, frustrated sound. “Put the ball back. Lock the room. And leave her be.”
“I’m not sure I can do that. I mean, honestly, it has to hurt after a while.”
“You don’t do it, you’ll have no job.”
“Yeesh,” I mutter. “Moody. Fine, I’ll leave her there, but I can’t promise I’m not going to check on her.”
�
��Saskia,” he warns, voice low and holy fuck, very sexy.
“Yes, Mason?” I say sweetly.
“Do as you’re fuckin’ told.”
“Your fetishes are strange, but okay, I’ll do what you’re asking. I don’t like her anyway, I was only trying to be nice. She’s very mouthy. Remember that for later.”
He makes a groaning sound, partially angry, partially frustrated, mostly exasperated.
“Goodbye,” he mutters.
“Bye, boss!”
I hang up and turn to the girl. “Looks like you’re in for a long, boring day.”
“Just put the ball back in,” she snaps.
“Happily.”
I walk over, pick up the ball, and shove it back in her mouth. She makes a groaning sound.
“What if you get a blocked nose and can’t breathe? You could die …”
She glares at me.
“Fine, have it your way. But I won’t be held responsible. My fingerprints are on this ball gag now. So, you better keep breathing.”
I tie it up and shove the blindfold back on, then I leave the room and shut the door.
Crazy woman is honestly going to lie there all day waiting for Mason.
The man must have a magic cock, or mouth, or hands, or all of it.
Because damn, that’s a long time to wait.
Oh, well, whatever floats her boat, I suppose.
I must admit, though, I am curious.
Really strangely curious.
~*~*~*~
MASON
“Mason, please, get them out! Get them out of here!”
I walk over, kneeling in front of my mother, taking hold of her face. “There is no one here, Mom. They’re gone. They’re not here.”
“They are here!” she cries. “They are, I saw them. They’re hiding. They’re tricking you. When you leave, they’ll come out, and they’ll hurt me.”
I squeeze her hands, trying to get her blue eyes to focus on my face; it seems to be the only way she is able to come back to reality from whatever hell she’s living in in her head.
“Mom, look at me. Look at me. It’s Mason. I promise you, they’re not here.”
“Mason,” she cries, cupping my face. “Mason, don’t leave. When you leave, they come. Please don’t leave.”
I look up at the clock. I’m late for work. If I miss another day, I probably won’t have a job. Without a job, I’ll have no money. Right now, Mom doesn’t know left from right. She has money, plenty of it, that my dad left her when he passed, but she has zero control over it right now. She couldn’t shop if she tried, which means I am the breadwinner, I am trying to keep everything afloat.
“Mom, listen to me, we’re going to get your medication and put you to sleep, you’ll feel so much better when you wake up.”
“Mason, no!” she screams. “No.”
Her fingernails dig into my face, and I wince, but I don’t push her away. We’re still unsure as to what is going on with her. She became ill after my father passed and started having hallucinations after an attempted break-in one evening. The doctors think it is mental, some sort of heartbreak and the fear she felt when she was alone and nobody could help her when someone tried to get into her home, but I think it’s more than that.
Something isn’t right.
Trying to get somebody to believe me is nearly impossible.
Getting help is even harder.
“Come on, Mom, let’s go upstairs.”
“No, you can’t leave, please don’t leave.”
Her voice cracks and she hangs onto me so tightly that I know today is a bad day, a really bad day. Most days, she manages with the help of a hired nurse, but some days, like today, nobody can help her but me. I exhale and take her hands from my face, saying in a low voice, “Okay, Mom. I won’t leave. I won’t go. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Good boy, my good boy.”
I hang onto the exhale and help her up the stairs.
I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to do this.
How much longer can I throw everything in my life away?
I look at the fragile woman in my arms and I know, I just know …
I’ll do it forever, if I have to.
I grip the sheets in my hands and glare at the wall in front of me, holding a massive television that almost glistens in the dark room. Another fucking dream, only they’re more memories than fantasies that are created when you sleep. My dreams are always real, which makes them that much more painful. Every time I see my mother in them, I wake up with the same empty ache in my chest.
The one that reminds me I failed her.
I promised her I wouldn’t, but I did.
And now she’s gone, and I’m here alone in this big, fucking empty house.
A house that brings me nothing but fucking misery. I hate being here. Yet, I can’t bring myself to sell it. It’s the only thing I have left of my parents, and damned if I’ll sell it and let my greedy sister anywhere fucking near what’s left.
I shove out of bed and stand, walking out of the room and down the stairs into the kitchen. I stop when I see Saskia sitting in there, staring at her phone. She’s looking at pictures, from what I can tell, her eyes scanning over the screen. Looks like pictures of her and a man. If she’s got a man, where the fuck is he? Because I sure haven’t seen him here. I clear my throat and she turns, eyes wide, startled.
“Jesus, dude, you could have warned me you were creeping around the house at night like a weirdo.”
I grunt. Always got something smart to say, this girl.
“My house, didn’t know I needed to announce myself everywhere I went.”
“A pre-warning would have been nice. Maybe a cough, or a fart, or something before you entered.”
I scrunch up my lip. “Don’t fuckin’ fart.”
She giggles, and it sounds fucking cute. “All men fart.”
“Not in the presence of ladies, they don’t.”
She blinks, and for the first time, I’ve startled her. She has nothing to say. I’ll be damned. I’ve shut her up.
“So, it is possible to shut that mouth,” I murmur, walking over to the fridge and opening it.
“I guess so. I didn’t expect something like that to come out of your mouth.”
I grab a pitcher of milk and put it on the counter, then go in search of a glass. “Don’t know what kind of gutter trash you’ve dated, but not all men are pigs.”
She huffs. “I don’t know, you might not fart but your attitude sure stinks.”
She laughs softly at her own little joke, and I turn around, glaring at her. “Fuckin’ really?”
She grins. “Well, it was funny in my head. Why are you so grumpy all the time, anyway? Is that just your personality or are you some dark, twisted, broken person?”
I pour the milk, ignoring her question.
Doesn’t stop her.
“I’m going to go with dark, twisted, and broken. Which makes me wonder why? And considering you’re not going to tell me, I’m going to have to make a guess. And let me tell you, I have a very active imagination. I’m not sure you want me going around town sharing my theories with other people …”
“Go for it,” I mutter. “Nothin’ that hasn’t been shared around before.”
She huffs. “You were supposed to fall for that and then share with me why you are the way you are.”
“Not sure why it matters to you, woman, considerin’ we ain’t friends.”
“That’s not very nice,” she points out.
I shrug. “Not a very nice person.”
“Is your little girlfriend still tied to the bed? I’m sure she is fully aware of how mean you are.”
I look at her, putting the glass of milk in the microwave.
“Not my girlfriend, don’t do girlfriends.”
“What is she then? Your toy?”
“Basically.”
“Ugh.”
“You asked.”
“Well, I didn’t expect such a br
utal answer.”
“Honesty …”
She nods. “Fair enough. Okay, well, how come you like tying women up?”
I pull my milk out. “What makes you think it’s me? Ever think it might be them?”
She snorts. “No. Why in the hell would it be them?”
“Some women like being controlled.”
“Weirdos.”
I snort and glance at her, studying her fucking lovely face. She’s not a classic beauty, and she’s not blonde and hot like most of the girls I have around, but she has something about her, something fucking incredible that makes my dick fucking hard every time I look at her. Maybe it’s her outrageous confidence and lack of fear, or maybe that she knows exactly who she is and what she wants and isn’t afraid of it.
Whatever it is.
She outshines most women.
“Anything else you want to know before I go back to bed, considerin’ you’re askin’ my entire life story?”
She smiles, and fuck me, it about takes me off my feet.
“Nope, that’s it for now. Although, I must point out, it’s rather cute that you’re drinking warm milk because you can’t sleep.”
“Goin’ now,” I grunt, turning and walking toward my room.
“The gruffness only makes it cuter,” she calls after me.
“My mom did it for me. Tradition,” I yell back. “Not fuckin’ cute.”
“That just made it ultimate cute,” she yells, and her voice echoes down the hall. “Goodnight, cutie.”
I smile. It’s small, but there.
Fuck me.
She’s almost addictive.
~6~
SASKIA
The doorbell rings, and I’m midway through scrubbing the windows. I solemnly swear I will never, ever, ever have this many windows in any house I live in. My God, they’re always getting dusty, and I swear all I do is clean windows. I put my cloth down and wipe my hands on my shorts, walking over to the door and opening it. This is the first time anyone has come to visit Mason, so I can honestly say, I have no idea who I’ll find when I open the door.
I swing it open, and my heart starts racing.
Definitely not who I thought I’d find.
Standing in front of me is my sister.
I could have easily gone the rest of my life and never, ever, not for a single second, seen her again. But here she is, standing in front of me, smirking.
