His Name Is Sir (The Power to Please, Book 3)

by Ward, Deena

  “You’re seeing it all wrong, as usual. I’ve always done what I knew to be best for you. That’s my job as your dominant. I ...”

  “You’re not my dominant. You’re nothing. And you don’t care about me, or what’s best for me. You only care about yourself.”

  He made a little hmm sound, then said, “I am selfish, that’s true. I’m a dominant male. We’re all selfish.”

  I thought of Gibson. “No, not your kind of selfishness.”

  “I’m coming over to your place. We’ll talk about it.”

  “The hell you are! Don’t come anywhere near me.”

  “What are you going to do? You can’t stop me.”

  “I won’t open my door.”

  “You will.”

  And the bastard hung up.

  I immediately called him back.

  He said, “Don’t be impatient. I’m in your area and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  His smugness infuriated me. “Take the video off the site, now, today.”

  “No.”

  “Take it down or I’m going to sue you.”

  “Go right ahead. Sue me.”

  His response took me by surprise. I floundered for a moment. “I mean it. You’ll lose everything.”

  “No I won’t. I’ll win. I have a signed release and contract, and I will honor that contract. Your royalty checks are mailed quarterly, so you can expect your first payment in a few months. If these first few days of sales are anything to go by, it should be a hefty check.”

  “I didn’t sign anything and you know it.”

  “It’s not a forgery, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have witnesses. It’s not the neatest signature, since you were somewhat out of it at the time, but it’s very much yours.”

  “I don’t remember signing anything.”

  “That’s hardly my concern,” he said. “You signed right after I took off your hood that night, when you couldn’t open your eyes for long, and were babbling around. It was nothing to stick a pen in your hand and tell you to sign a few pieces of paper. You were willing to do anything I told you. It was incredibly hot.”

  “Coerced signatures don’t count.”

  “I guess that would be up to a jury to decide, if I coerced you or not. Don’t you know that the tabloids will love this story, a sex slave who claims she was tricked into making a pornographic film without her consent? Oh, the nasty things she did in the video were with her consent, just not the filming and sale. Ha-ha. They’ll eat it up. And I’ll make sure they hear and see all the juicy details. The publicity will skyrocket sales on the site. You might even make enough money to pay your lawyer.”

  I hated him more than ever. I ended the call.

  I paced around my apartment, frantically trying to think of what to do. I needed help. This was too much to deal with alone. Naturally, I thought of Gibson. But he was out of the country until the next day, so there was no point in calling him.

  My usual friends weren’t a consideration since I couldn’t tell them about the video. I hadn’t told them anything about what I’d been up to the past few months.

  I called Elaine Hoyte.

  Chapter 18

  Later, I felt sorry for Elaine, for the way I called her up that day and spilled all of my troubles onto her in a manic rush, about the DVDs, losing my job, Michael’s betrayal. I don’t know how she followed the tale, I was so distraught. But she did.

  “That sorry S-O-B!” was her response when I told her what Michael had done. “I’m blown away. I can’t believe he’d do something like that, not that I’m saying I don’t believe your story. I believe you. I just can’t believe anyone would do something so awful to someone as sweet as you.”

  I told her that Michael said he was coming to my apartment and that I didn’t know what to do.

  She said, “Don’t buzz him up.”

  “He’ll get in anyway. I’ve never once buzzed him in. I think he sweet-talks people into letting him in.”

  “Hmph. Yeah, that’d be easy for him. Well, don’t open the door. No matter what. I’ll call Ron and we’ll be over there as quick as we can. If Michael shows up and starts makin’ a fuss, call the police.”

  “I don’t know about that. The police will want to know what this is about and ...”

  “Right, you’re right. Never mind. Just hang tight. We’re coming. And honey, I’m so sorry this happened to you. We’re going to make it right. You’re going to be okay.”

  Her kindness raised a lump in my throat. I croaked out a, “Thank you.”

  She repeated, “It’ll be okay.” Then she clicked off.

  I wanted to believe her, that everything would be okay, but I couldn’t. All the same, her sympathy and support helped calm me some. At least I wasn’t alone anymore.

  I jumped when a knock sounded at my door. It was Michael. I knew it. He must have been close when I called him to get here so quickly.

  I didn’t make a sound. Didn’t move.

  He knocked louder. I turned my phone over and over in my hands.

  He pounded, yelled out, “I know you’re in there, Nonnie! Open the door!”

  Yep, definitely Michael.

  He repeated himself a few more times and I continued to pretend I wasn’t home. Then he stopped. I prayed he had given up.

  I nearly dropped my phone when it vibrated in my hand. I looked at the screen. Michael was calling me. I tiptoed to the bedroom and closed the door.

  I answered the phone. “Unless you’re calling to tell me you took down the video, you’re wasting your time.”

  He simply said, “Open your door.”

  “Oh, are you at my apartment? I’m not there.”

  “Yes you are. Open the door.”

  “Take down the video.”

  Stalemate.

  His voice carried low and ominous. “Open the fucking door or I’ll go from apartment to apartment and tell all your neighbors about how they’re living next to a porn star, and then I’ll show them exactly what site they can visit to see you in all your naked, kinky glory.”

  “I’ll call the police.”

  “No you won’t. You’re all bluff. You’re an open book to me. You should know that by now. Open the door and get it over with. Unlike you, I don’t bluff. I follow through on my threats.”

  I was so frustrated I wanted to scream. I loathed that man with everything I had.

  I ended the call and went to my front door. I had a sturdy swing bar lock on the door, like the kind they use in motels. I made sure it was engaged, then I turned the deadbolt and opened my door the few inches that the swing bar allowed.

  Michael immediately pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Let me in.”

  I didn’t look through the crack, not wanting to see his despicable face. I stayed behind the door, wedging my foot against the bottom, just in case, “No, this is all you’re getting. I don’t trust you anymore. I don’t know what you might do.”

  He sighed. “That’s ridiculous. You’re being a drama queen.”

  “Call me whatever you want, I’m not letting you in. Besides, you’ve called me way worse. I recall ‘whore’ and ‘slut’ being two of your favorites.”

  “That was just for the video, Sweet. That’s part of the fantasy for the customers. I don’t think you’re a whore or a slut. Okay, so you’re a little slutty, but I like that about you.”

  He said it in that damnable way of his, a way I once thought was sexy. It took all I had not to call him every filthy name I’d ever heard.

  I said, “Would you get on with it? Say whatever it is you came here to say so I can tell you to go to hell.”

  “That’s not a good start. You could at least keep an open mind.”

  I didn’t respond, was finished with rising to his bait.

  He said, “I’d like to say this to your face. I can’t see you. You can’t see me.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  Silence.

  He sighed again. “Fine, I’ll
play along for now. I know you’re upset. It’s understandable. But you only need to realize that everything was done for a reason, and that you’ll be better for it in the end.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek.

  “You don’t need that job of yours,” he said. “I couldn’t even remember what you did there and had to mail out eight, I think it was, DVDs to make sure at least one of them got to the right person.”

  I flinched. A whole new panic rushed over me. Eight? I hadn’t counted how many DVDs were in the manilla envelope that Isabel gave me. Oh God, what if she hadn’t found them all? And even if she did, how many people watched the video before Isabel confiscated them? I wanted to run and count the DVDs right away, but didn’t want to chance Michael somehow breaking through the door.

  Michael’s voice was all calm, trying to be soothing, now. “You don’t need that job. You can work for me. Money’s no problem and you’re a star in the making, Sweet. Your vids are selling well. I knew they would. Imagine how many more we’ll sell when they can see your pretty face, see how beautiful you are when you submit. You’ll be set for life in no time.”

  I couldn’t hold back any longer. “That’s why you did this ... because you want to record more videos of me. And you think that by ruining my life, I’ll be happy to do whatever you want.”

  “Well, not exactly. I admit that I’m pushing the point, limiting your options. I told you in the email I sent that I would claim you.”

  “You don’t know me at all. Or maybe you’ve lost your mind.”

  “Oh, I don’t expect you to come to me today, though that would be nice. I’ve missed you. However, I’m realistic. I know it will take you a while to realize the extent of the difficulties ahead if you try to go it alone. Experience will prove my point to you.”

  He paused for a second, probably trying for effect. “For instance, you’ll have a hard time finding another job, and when you do, it will be hard to keep it when your co-workers learn your little secret. And I’ll make sure they find out about it. Also, you told me how your friends wouldn’t understand your new lifestyle. They’ll desert you when they hear what you’ve done, especially if they see it for themselves.”

  I said, “And you’ll make sure they do.”

  “Exactly. You told me you have no family you can rely on. No friends, no family. No job. Just me, Nonnie. That’s all you’ve got. And that’s all you need. I can give you everything. I will give you everything.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said, but it was weak. His threats had destroyed my bravado. Would he really do what he was threatening? Did he even need to? After all, who knew how many people at Linton Cosmetics saw that video, and how many they told about it? That would get around, possibly to my circle of friends. They had met some of my coworkers before.

  I said, “You’re forgetting about the Hoytes. They’ll help me.”

  “What can they do, really? Are they going to support you, pay your bills when you can’t anymore? Will you live with them? For how long? They’re a pair of country bumpkins anyway. They can’t save you. Only I can do that.”

  He couldn’t be right about that. He couldn’t be right. No. There would be a way to fix this.

  He interrupted my panic with, “And by the way, don’t think for a second that my dear cousin Gibson will bail you out. Whatever you had going with him is over now. He’s a wealthy, important man, and men like him may fuck a porn star on the down low, but they don’t have relationships with them. He can’t risk being seen in public with someone like you now. You’re bad for business, and business is what matters most to men like my cousin.”

  Gibson. I hadn’t yet allowed myself to think about him, how all of this could change what I had started with him. I wanted to argue with Michael, and yet I couldn’t. I didn’t know, actually, what Gibson would say or do if he knew about all of this. I refused to think about it yet. I had enough to handle and he was out of the country, safely away for another day.

  I felt some sense returning. I said, “So your plan was to alienate me from everyone I know so that I’d have no choice but to turn to you. That’s pathetic, don’t you think? The only way you can have me is by giving me no other options? I would think it would hurt your pride to be considered a pitiful last resort.”

  I knew I’d hit home with that one. I could feel the tension pouring through the crack.

  His voice was tight. “That’s not how it is. I’ve taken everything away from you because I can, because I own you.”

  “Michael, let me tell you how I think it really is. I think that you did all of this because you were in a snit after seeing me with Gibson last Friday night and because I wouldn’t answer your texts. I think you wanted to punish me for turning down your high and mighty self.”

  I grabbed a quick breath. “And then there’s Gibson. I think you wanted to hurt him, to take me away from him by making me untouchable or whatever the hell I am now. You hate Gibson because you know that he’s a thousand times the better man than you will ever be. That’s what I think.”

  Silence. I braced my foot more firmly against the bottom of the door in case I’d angered him enough to lunge at the door.

  He hissed through the crack, the sound of rage, “When you come back to me, you’ll pay dearly for what you just said. No mercy for you, the same as you’ve shown me.”

  The hair rose on the back of my neck, an old cliche I’d never actually experienced. I passed it off with, “Well, there you go. Making it so tempting for me to get back together with you.”

  A pause, then some deep breaths, a long exhalation, not a sigh.

  I said, “By the way, the so-called country bumpkins are on their way over here right now, and I don’t think you want to meet up with Ron today.”

  He didn’t answer. I waited.

  Finally, he said, “I was getting ready to leave anyway. Before I go, one last thing. When I decided to record our scene that night, it was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the hood and the extra crew. That was special for you, Sweet. So I’d filmed plenty of times before. Later on, if I couldn’t convince the sub to let me put the video up for sale on my site, I’d keep it for my personal library, to entertain me and my friends.”

  “You were only one of many,” he continued. “Or so I thought. But then you astonished me. I hadn’t realized your capabilities, how far you could go. I imagined what you might do for me in the future, with more training, once you’d gained experience. You have no idea how many times I’ve watched your video, and the shower scene. I wish I had a recording of the next morning in your apartment. You were exquisite.”

  “So don’t think,” he said, “that this was about payback. I want you. When you accept the truth and are ready to come to me, all you have to do is call. I’ll see you soon.”

  Then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps receding down the hall. I slammed the door shut and threw the deadbolt, then I stood there, leaning my hot forehead against the cool wood.

  I was overwhelmed, awash with fear and hatred and confusion. Who was that man? Was he serious? Was he exaggerating? Was he crazy?

  He couldn’t possibly think I would return to him. This had to have been about revenge. Because if this weren’t about revenge, then he wasn’t just a narcissistic bastard. He was dangerous.

  My phone rang. I looked at the screen. Not Michael. Gibson. Gibson was calling me.

  Oh no, I couldn’t talk to him. He was still in Germany, and I needed him to stay there as long as possible. I couldn’t face him yet. I sent the call to voicemail.

  I sat down for a few minutes, then remembered to count the DVDs. Turned out there were exactly eight, including the one in my player, so that was something of a relief, if that’s what it could be called. At least I knew they were all accounted for. I set aside, for now, the fear of how many of those eight disks had been played that day.

  Some time later, I was pacing around my living room, manically wracking my brain for a plan of action, when my buzzer sounded. It w
as Elaine. I admitted her and in moments she was through my door, hugging me fiercely.

  “Are you okay? Did he come? What happened?” she asked while she held me.

  I tried to accept the comfort she offered in her embrace, but I was too keyed up to be stilled. I pulled away and we sat down on the sofa, my leg bouncing up and down in agitation.

  I gave her a quick synopsis of what happened with Michael, not telling her everything, of course, but letting her know that he seemed a changed person and that he refused to remove the videos from his site.

  Elaine said, “I’ve been calling him ever since you told me what happened, but the coward won’t answer. Don’t you worry, honey. I sent him a text telling him that he’d better not come here again or Ron would eat him for lunch.”

  I nodded, grateful.

  “I haven’t been able to get ahold of Ron yet,” she said. “He’s in a meeting at a supplier’s place, and I’ve left messages for him to call. He’s probably got his phone turned off. I expect him to be done any time now.”

  I nodded again.

  Elaine patted my hand and I realized it was clenched tight, in a fist. She said, “I’m so sorry, honey. It’s going to be okay.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think he’s ruined my life.”

  “No, no, he hasn’t. We’ll get this figured out.”

  I shook my head again.

  She reached out to touch me, but I couldn’t be touched just then. I pulled my hand out from under hers, thinking to myself that I shouldn’t be acting that way, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  Her expression was sympathetic. “You’re in shock. Anybody would be. Why don’t we talk ...”

  The buzzer by my door sounded. I jumped up off the couch, every muscle in my body readied for flight.

  I said, “It’s him! He’s back.”

  Elaine stood up and headed over to the wall unit. “Let me handle this.”

  For a small woman, she had a formidable stride as she crossed the room, lending me some confidence in her presence.