by Aya DeAniege
“I didn't sleep with him for money.”
It took a moment for me to register the stinging in my cheek, the heat that flooded my face as I stared at the ground and slightly to the side.
My father had struck me across the face.
“That's quite enough," Nathaniel said, stepping between my father and me. "Darling, get in the car."
“But—”
“Darling,” Nathaniel said with an edge to his voice.
I wasn't certain because I had never heard Nathaniel use that tone before, but I thought it was remarkably similar to Mr. Wrightworth's last warning.
Not wanting to test the limits of that tone, to upset the man who had so much control over my life.
I went to the car, climbing into the passenger seat.
Not a word was said until the door closed. Then their words were muffled, I didn't catch what was said, but Nathaniel was quick about whatever it was. He went to the door of the apartment building and said something to my mother, who stood in the doorway.
Then he moved around the vehicle and climbed into the driver's side.
“I think it's best if we go to the hotel and figure out just what the news is fucking well doing, fucking broadcasting confidential information,” Nathaniel growled.
A combination of pissed and frustrated was what Nathaniel was. He spoke so fast that his words seemed to slur together. With him angry and me shaken to my core, I was certain that the rest of the day was not going to go well.
Chapter Six
The news companies had all the information. There were videos of my time in the Program being shown, of my time with Nathaniel, in Nathaniel's rooms. There was even a snippet of me in Mr. Wrightworth's rooms, right before he took control over his security again. Which led me to believe that the Program had been compromised, that perhaps the controllers had done it, but I couldn't fathom why they would give me a stuffed animal one month and then toss me to the wolves, the next.
The reporters were even saying things that weren't true at all. That had never happened. Such as the claim that Nathaniel loaned me out to several prominent members of the community to pay back debts. That all those in the community participated in an orgy once a month, that participation was mandatory, but few questioned the rules.
It was no wonder my father was upset.
Though at the time I didn't see that.
What I saw were my dirty secrets displayed on the television as part of the 'freedom of information act' which was a new law meant to keep the slums up to date on things that were going on in the country. That act was made to give the news companies the right to deliver whatever information they wanted to the slums, as long as it wasn't aggrandized the way rich peoples' news was. It had to be the facts and nothing but the facts.
Anything involving a slum was to be reported after the fact, once a solution was found.
In my case, they weren't supposed to announce that there had been a survivor until after the trial started. My identity was supposed to be protected. I was to be an anonymous face, mentioned little in the trial. Of course, at the time we didn't realize that Albert's entire defense rested on proving that I had consented to everything that had been done to me.
News companies were not permitted to broadcast information about a trial, let alone information that the Program had sworn they wouldn't let out. Even video footage from Nathaniel's estate, footage that had Nathaniel on the phone with his security team. He left the room for the call, all I caught was:
“What in the fuck am I paying you for?”
While he was on the phone, I went to the bathroom and stripped down. I almost felt numb, stripping down. Wrapping my head and emotions around what was going on, what had been said about me, was difficult. It seemed like the kind of thing that would be in a movie as a plot point. Or if it did happen, it happened to someone from a slum you had never heard of and was little more than a rumour.
I climbed into the shower, and I cried, allowing the sound of the shower to cover the sound, letting the water wash away my tears. The tears had no real purpose. They were neither sad nor mad, and they were not from frustration. It was simply that, I wasn't able to respond in any other way, so the tears came to give me a way to respond besides sitting and staring mutely.
I did wash as well. It was too ingrained in me not to waste water. At the end of the shower, I stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying my body and face, then wrapping my hair in the towel.
I had just pulled down the bathrobe when Nathaniel walked into the bathroom. As he walked in, I realized who it was, and rushed to get the robe on and tied. I didn't feel strong right then, and the idea of Nathaniel looking at me while I was naked, after his comments that first day back, was just too much for me to bear right then. His look gave me pause as I slipped the knot into the robe's belt.
He seemed rushed, tense even. But as his eyes fell on me he relaxed, even as his features darkened. My heart skipped a beat, because that look, I recognized. I had seen it on Mr. Wrightworth's face often enough.
I was about to tangle with a sadist.
Fuck, that's just what I need.
I considered my options. I could be a brat. I could outright disobey him. I could just submit as I had a time or two before for Mr. Wrightworth. But I didn't want to submit. I wanted to hit something.
If I hit something, I knew that I wouldn't be thinking about what he saw when the robe slipped off. I'd only be thinking of the then and there. The outside world wouldn't exist if I picked a fight with Nathaniel.
I wanted to put up a fight because I couldn't fight what was being said on the news about me. Once my fight was spent, I wanted him to beat all the bad emotions out of me, leaving nothing left but him and me.
A bell rang, somewhere in the large set of rooms we had been given.
Nathaniel looked frustrated. Surely he had seen the look on my face in response to his behaviour. I could only guess that he had been about to accept the silent invitation. The idea of playing with Nathaniel made me press my knees together. There was a twinge deep in my belly at the mere thought of a session.
It took him a moment to force himself to relax, which made me wonder who was at the door. Why had he smoothed out his features? If it had just been a bellboy, then he would have remained annoyed, even if it had been Mr. Wrightworth. There wasn't a visitor I could name that would make Nathaniel check his emotions before he went to answer the door.
I watched him leave the bathroom before I went about drying my hair. The dress I pulled on was a slip of a thing. It was not something I would wear in public. One that, if I bent over just the right way, the skirt would ride up dangerously, threatening to reveal something.
If I bent over, I wanted him thinking about my backside, about the fact that it had been so long since he had had a chance to use me as he pleased.
Walking out of the bathroom, I headed towards the front door.
“Izzy,” Nathaniel called from the front room.
I stepped into the living area of our set of rooms and frowned at him. His green eyes flowed over the dress, and a red came to his cheeks. His eyes lingered on my form. I swore I saw a kind of regret there.
Nathaniel swallowed hard and stepped to the side.
Behind him, my mother stood in the doorway, blinking several times at me, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
“Your mother came to visit,” he said, sounding just a little strangled.
That'll teach him to invite my family without telling me.
My mother took in the dress, then focused squarely on my face. I was quite familiar with that look. The one that said that she was ignoring something pointedly because if her attention was drawn to it, someone was going to get a beating. Though, typically that look had been directed at my brothers, not at me. After all, I didn't end up being dragged home by the police, or with the neighbour's wife in my bed.
“I liked the other dress better,” she said.
“Nathaniel likes this one,” I responded, m
oving around Nathaniel.
As I did so, I grazed the tip of my finger over my leg, just above my knee. I saw, out the corner of my eye, the way Nathaniel went redder and turned away.
I motioned to the small dining table near the door. It was meant for meals eaten in the rooms, but it would also do for a talk. Atop the table was a small glass vase with a single red rose in it. The two dining chairs were rather simple, compared to the elegance of the rest of the room.
“I'm surprised you're here,” I said as I sat.
The skirt rode up, and I dragged it back down as I caught Nathaniel glancing over at me. I scowled at him, and his eyes fell to the floor.
Once sitting, the only person who would be able to see my legs, let alone that the skirt had risen at all, was Nathaniel. The man stood to the side, seemingly playing on his phone, but I knew he was paying attention with how red he went.
“Why don't you order food,” I said to him.
“Of course,” Nathaniel said, not meeting my eyes.
Did he just slip into the submissive role?
Nathaniel left the sitting room. I heard him on the phone as I turned to my mother. She was staring after Nathaniel. When she finally turned her attention to me, she frowned just slightly and cocked her head to the side.
“According to your father, the news is saying all sorts of things about him being a sadist and a dominant alpha type,” she said, confusion colouring her voice.
“Nathaniel is typically my Sir, but he's also been a submissive before,” I said. “He and his Master don't believe a Dom should do anything to a sub that they haven't experienced themselves.”
“He has a Master?” she asked, her voice going slightly higher.
“Had a Master, yes. It's hard to explain. I mean, neither of them have been connected to another person for very long, not until I came along so I suppose the dynamic will change."
“Sounds like vampires," my mother said brightly. "Trust me. I've read lots about vampires. Vampire romances are all the rage right now. Heather, down the block, has almost all of them and lends them out to me."
That, at least, gave us something to talk about. And talk we did. There were months of absence to catch up on, and my mother knew all about what was going on in the slum. Of the changes that were coming in, and the government men in black who had walked the streets with clipboards, knocking on doors and doing random inspections.
Nathaniel returned a few minutes later and served us drinks, making them at the bar with his own hands. I hadn't been aware that he knew how to mix drinks, it had never come up before. When the food arrived, he accepted it, then served that to us as well.
We had a nice meal and then talked over another drink.
It was after sunset when Nathaniel finally interrupted.
“I got you a pass to be out after curfew, but the slum won't accept drivers after a certain time," he murmured to my mother. "If you don't go soon, you will be locked out of the slum overnight."
“Not a good thing, these days,” my mother said.
We said our goodbyes and she left the set of rooms. Nathaniel drew me through the rooms, to the balcony which overlooked the driveway for the hotel. He motioned downward, and I watched. It was several minutes before my mother emerged alongside a man in a suit with an armband.
“Hotel driver," Nathaniel whispered as my mother was led to a car.
I watched as the car pulled away and headed down the road towards the slum. As I did so, Nathaniel stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me.
“I don't know when you'll get to see her next, especially with this new problem.”
“I want them found,” I said.
“The Program is already combing through everything to find out who it was,” Nathaniel murmured. “Because it was a leak from inside their archives.”
“I want them to pay,” I said.
“Mr. Wrightworth has taken an express interest in your case,” Nathaniel responded, I could hear the smile in his voice. “You can guarantee that they will pay dearly for this. He can't beat them or whip them, but he has all the power of the government backing him along with the support of hundreds of rich folk who rely on contracts. There will be no place this person can hide, that he can't find them. And when he's done with them? There'll be no place they can comfortably live again. Privacy is sacrosanct amongst the Program's contracts.”
“Nathaniel?”
“Mm?”
“Sir...” I said, uncertain how to ask.
Nathaniel growled behind me, like a dog with a bone.
“Get in the room and on the bed,” he said huskily.
I moved to obey.
Nathaniel was right behind me, he closed the doors and drew the curtains. I heard the sound of the door's latch catching and then the sound of the curtains.
The curtains hadn't even stopped swaying before he grabbed a handful of hair and yanked me close.
That amount of time wasn't long. He moved in a quick, fluid motion, which meant that I made it to just inside the hotel room when I was grabbed. Because h had told me to go into the room, I hadn't expected to be caught. It was a surprise, and I tried to fight, but it's difficult to struggle with your hair in someone's grip.
I reached for my hair. Bits were pulling here and there, hurting. Nathaniel responded by wrapping his other hand around my throat. His grip was firm, his flesh warm. He pushed me towards a chair, thrusting me over the back of it.
“Don't move.”
Bent over the chair, I wanted to move just to see what he would do to me. If Nathaniel were bent on punishing me for disobeying, however, he wouldn't beat me. He'd probably tie me up and leave me that way. I kept my head down, hair draped around my face and hiding the bedroom.
Nathaniel walked around me. He walked to the dresser and opened a drawer. There was a minute or so of my being perched there when nothing was said, no sound was made.
He was watching me for any movement.
Footsteps drew near, and Nathaniel took first the one, then the other wrist. He wrapped something around them and tied a knot in it. I pulled experimentally at the binding.
Nathaniel reached around me and smacked my backside hard.
I whined as he walked away. The stinging in the one side made me ever aware of the space I was in. Irritation arose from the imbalance.
He had to even it out.
He fucking knows he has to even it out right away.
Nathaniel returned a moment later and lightly patted the other side. I whined in annoyance, and he chuckled. Chuckled at my predicament. His hand roved over my backside, up my back, and gripped my shoulder tight. He yanked me off the back of the chair and thrust me towards the bed. I stumbled over my own feet, unable to use my hands to stop myself. Nathaniel grabbed the back of my dress by the neckline. That stopped me, until...
I fell again as the stitches in the dress gave way.
Rich people clothing might be expensive, but it's utter shit.
I hit the floor, though not as fast as I was initially falling. With a groan, I struggled to my knees. Nathaniel slid a hand under my arm and pulled me up. He ripped at the last of the stitches and tossed the shreds of my dress to the side. He thrust me again, without skipping a beat, onto the bed.
“Centre of the bed, now.”
Didn't even stop to see if I was all right. Then again, I had taken harder tumbles at work in the slums.
I moved to obey as Nathaniel retrieved a tie from the dresser. He slipped it between my wrists and tied it to the headboard. Then he lifted my hips so that they were off the bed.
“Keep them there.”
The angle bent my hips upward, keeping my chest pressed against the bedspread. It didn't feel too bad until Nathaniel gave me a hard smack.
“Get them back up there.”
I lifted my hips again. Without concentrating on my hips, they had lowered. My body had relaxed without my realizing it had. I tried to keep my backside raised in the air, as he had instructed.
A hand roved over my hip, hot skin leaving trails of cold in their wake. Nathaniel made a sound as he bent. His teeth sunk into the side of my hip, pressing down until I yiped from pain.
The man chuckled again as he sat up.
“Tonight? Tonight would be a night when I need you to understand that I own you body and soul,” Nathaniel said, his hands roving over my back and down my legs. “But,” the hand hesitated on my leg, “I don't think tonight should be that night, considering all else. So, how far do you want me to go, Darling?”
“As far as Sir likes,” I said.
Nathaniel made a small, appreciative sound. “I didn't bring your friend, so we'll just have to play in other ways. Keep your hips up, or play is done, understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He struck me then, with such force that I was afraid I might tumble bum over head into the headboard. Then he struck me again on the other side. The pain made me focus on then and there on the soft sheets under me, on the angle of my hips, and the cool air of the room against my bare flesh.
I had never put underwear on, only the dress.
The following strikes hurt more with each thump of hand against backside as my flesh registered the first bit of pain.
“Ow, stop!”
Nathaniel's hand settled on my stinging skin. His fingers trailed down my backside and between my legs. They thrust into me roughly but drew a moan from me nonetheless. I pressed back against Nathaniel as his fingers delved ever deeper. My teeth gritted.
“I'm not stopping until you come,” he said.
Which drew a moan from me as I tried, as every bit of me tried to react to those words. Nathaniel bent down and kissed the small of my back.
“Come for me, Darling.”
He rarely has to ask twice.
The sweet, blessed release slammed into my body as I cried out into the bedspread.
Nathaniel pulled away and walked to the bathroom. I heard the water running, him washing his hands, and then he returned as he dried his hands on a towel. With a small whimper, I looked up at Nathaniel.
“Oh no,” Nathaniel purred out, tossing the towel to the side. “We aren't done here. I've got months and months to make up for.”
