The Pleasure House

by Kitty Thomas

  It was evil and unfair, but goddammit she’d wanted him so much. As much as he’d wanted her. They’d spent months flirting and bantering at the bar. And if he hadn’t been so fucking stupid and scared her away the night they went out, things could have been so different. He could have had her in his collar by now. It wasn’t as if she’d never been attracted to him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen the whisper of the submissive urge in the way she reacted to him without realizing it.

  She’d begged him not to leave her that night. And yet he had. Like a fucking idiot. And here they were in this place where she might not feel safe to do anything with anyone again, where she might be too traumatized to cross that bridge and where he didn’t know if he was strong enough not to push her across it.

  Gabe turned the water off and went back into the main room. Julie had finished her cup of tea and was now looking at him like a cat about to be taken to the vet. Wary. Ready to scramble and claw if he got too near. The embrace she’d melted and sobbed into minutes before would not have an encore.

  It’s been one day. Get a grip.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. Will you have dinner with me later?”

  “Okay.”

  Gabe nodded and left the room. Moments after he’d closed the door behind him, he heard the lock click in place. Well, served him right. He had barged in. What did he expect her to do?

  He really should be going about his day, training the girls, having a little fun—anything to take the edge off, but instead he found himself glued to the screen in his room. He watched her finish her tea and disappear into the bathroom. She was in there a long time, and he worried she’d fallen asleep in the tub. He was ready to go get a master key and storm his way in there after her, when Julie emerged from the bathroom.

  She was wrapped up in his too-large-for-her terrycloth bathrobe. She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled back the covers on the bed. She’d run the bath he’d asked. She’d drank her tea like he’d asked. And now she was lying down for a nap like he’d asked. He had to get a collar around this girl’s throat somehow. And he didn’t want to do it the evil way.

  When she took off the robe, Gabe’s breath hitched in his throat. It hadn’t been that hard to imagine what she must look like nude, particularly with what she’d been wearing last night at Dmitri’s. But seeing it was another thing. He had no doubt Dmitri had many ways of abusing the girls he’d been prostituting, but whatever punishments he’d devised, he hadn’t allowed anything to mar their skin.

  It made sense. After all, the clients of Dmitri’s house liked it vanilla and clean and elegant and well-oiled and dressed and perfumed. Those men wouldn’t be turned on by the deep red welt of a whip’s lash. They wanted the perfectly groomed, coiffed, and thrilled-to-please fantasy. They wanted girls that were nice and compliant.

  Julie was thinner than Gabe would like these days, but she’d return to her former more healthy weight no doubt after a few weeks on Phyllis’s food. Her hip bones poked out a little, and Gabe could see the slight outline of her ribs. But this didn’t detract from the gentle curve of her waist or the pert breasts he wanted to run his tongue over.

  Between her legs there was no hair. The skin was smooth and no doubt soft, like he liked it. Gabe tried not to think about the fact that she wasn’t waxed because she was into it, but because Dmitri’s clients had been. And yet… she might let the hair grow out for a time—briefly reclaim her freedom and privacy—but if she became his, it was getting waxed right back off again and staying that way forever.

  It wasn’t that he had any problem with the way a woman naturally looked. It was that hair got in the way of his pleasure and hers. He wanted to lick smooth unobstructed skin. He wanted a clear view that kept nothing hidden from his gaze. At least she was used to waxing.

  After a few minutes, Julie got into the bed and pulled the covers over her. She didn’t bother putting any clothes on like she had the night before. With her door locked, she must be feeling braver. Once she’d finally fallen asleep, Gabe got up and turned off the flat screen and went downstairs. He had a raging hard on and he needed to find someone who would be happy to play the way he liked.

  Julie woke with a start and glanced at the clock on Gabe’s nightstand. She’d only been asleep an hour. She would like to say she felt rested, but all she could feel at the moment was her heart galloping through her chest like a wild horse. She’d dreamed she was back at Dmitri’s. It was just another day, just another gross client. Just another time when she had to close her eyes and pretend it was Gabe.

  And now Gabe was here and she was afraid she might have to sleep with him. How screwed up was that? The fantasy of the one guy that had gotten her through the worst of it and now she was horrified she might actually get the fantasy? But imaginary Gabe had been tame with the same bland desires as Dmitri’s clientele. With fantasy Gabe, she had been the one in control. It was the one bit of pretend-control that had helped her stay sane in there.

  Julie got up and put some clothes on—bright fuschia shorts and a white tee shirt—and splashed some water on her face in the bathroom. She’d forgotten to call Phyllis to take her tea things, so she pressed the number three on the intercom. She didn’t bother with shoes. It was the middle of the summer and the floor was a comfortable temperature beneath her feet. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere.

  She unlocked the door and peered out into the hallway. She didn’t know what she’d expected. Gabe to be lurking like a hungry wolf ready to devour her? She checked next door, but he wasn’t in his room either. She went in. This really should be her room, but it felt forbidden to be in here. Sure, there was only one small window and it was a bit dark, but she’d feel much better if she was in this room and not taking Gabe’s much nicer, larger room from him.

  The accommodations were simple—a large bed with some shackles on the wall. Don’t think about that part. There was a box at the foot of the bed. Julie opened it and then wished she hadn’t. All sorts of twisted, kinky toys and bondage equipment. She slammed the box shut quickly and then went to check out the small attached bathroom. On the wall back in the main room was a large flat screen TV. Odd, because she hadn’t noticed a TV in Gabe’s room. She couldn’t find a remote so she pushed the power button at the bottom of the screen.

  It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. She’d expected cable or satellite TV. A movie, or a TV show, or the news. Instead, what she saw was Gabe’s room… her room. He was spying on her? Her face flamed as she realized she’d walked around in the bedroom after her bath without clothes on. Had he been watching? Maybe not. Maybe he’d gone back downstairs.

  Fear would have been normal. And a part of her wanted to run and hide. She wasn’t sure how much good it would do her, but it was an option she was at least considering. But then that friendly feeling of anger returned, pressing warmth up the back of her neck and into her cheeks. It was a surging, powerful energy. Underneath it was hurt and betrayal, but she wouldn’t let herself feel that. Just the anger. Anger felt safer.

  Fuck Gabe. Fuck his pretend noble morals. Fuck his supposed kindness. He was spying on her, watching her undress. After everything that had happened with Dmitri he couldn’t give her an inch of space? He didn’t care about her any more than that? All men were monsters. All of them were liars. Hadn’t she learned that well enough by now?

  She’d been kidding herself, trying to keep the fantasy version of Gabe once the real one had descended into her life again. If he’d had soft feelings for her, that had been before—when she was pure and innocent and sweet and probably still pushed all his creepy little buttons… just another virgin for him to deflower. But now? Now that she was all spoiled and used up and tainted. Oh, now he thought he could do whatever he wanted with her. Why give her the illusion of any of this? Why not take what the fuck he wanted? Like all the rest did?

  It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to it. It wasn’t as if trauma hadn’t become the new normal. She’d probably
be more likely to fall apart and turn into a wilting flower if he was nice to her. Nice threw her off balance. She didn’t know what to do with nice. Casual cruelty had become expected, routine. There was comfort in routine.

  And then there was all that money he’d paid Dmitri. Of course he planned to do whatever he wanted with her. He’d bought her. She was just another expensive possession to him.

  Julie flicked off the screen, and before her brain could catch up to what the rest of her was doing, she raced down the stairs. She practically ran over Annette in the foyer.

  “Where’s Gabe?” she demanded.

  Annette was taken aback no doubt by the sudden personality shift. “I-I don’t know. Is something wrong? Can I help?”

  “No. Where might he be?”

  “Well, I mean, h-he could be in one of the play rooms. I thought I saw him going that way about an hour ago. He looked pretty keyed up.”

  “And where are these play rooms?”

  Annette pointed down a long hallway.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No.”

  “It might not be wise t-to interrupt him.”

  Julie’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure if she would be, but she was at least reasonably certain he wouldn’t shoot her. She hadn’t seen a single gun on anybody since she’d been here. And she’d been looking pretty intently for them.

  “O-okay, then.” Annette excused herself and went back to the other end of the house.

  After everything Julie had survived, she wasn’t about to cower and huddle anymore. She was done. She’d risked her life more than once to try to escape Dmitri. If she couldn’t escape Gabe and he wasn’t going to treat her like a human, what difference did it make what happened to her now? She wasn’t going to sit around all weak and demure hoping he would have mercy on her. He’d been creeping on her. If he wanted to be a monster, then he sure as hell better be one out in the open. She couldn’t stand the pretense. The uncertainty. She couldn’t stand to sit like a terrified little rabbit, waiting to be his prey.

  She poked her head into a few empty rooms that looked like they could be porno sets. They probably were. Then she heard voices coming from the end of the hall. She took a deep breath, grasped the doorknob, and pushed the door open.

  It took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. This room looked similar to the others. Like a porno set. There was a professional camera set up in one corner but it didn’t appear to be on. Neither were the bright set lights. On one end of the room was a blonde girl. She was naked and on her knees, tied up, and attached to a machine that was fucking her. Gabe sat in a chair in front of her, looking amused, while she was busy attending to his erection with her mouth.

  Julie refused to let herself process it or to decide on an emotion to have about it. She was doing all she could to hold onto the one emotion that made her feel like a normal human being: anger.

  There was another large box of toys near where she stood. Gabe was so lost in his own pleasure he hadn’t heard the door open. Before she lost her nerve, she grabbed a dildo out of the toy box and hurled it at Gabe’s head. It missed her target and hit his shoulder instead. She’d chucked it so hard at him, it made a loud thud when it made contact. It might leave a bruise, an idea she found ridiculously satisfying. This sense of contentment did not last long, however.

  Gabe rounded on her, his eyes blazing. But she was still too angry and shocked by what she’d walked in on to process the fact that maybe she should be afraid right now. Maybe she should have been demure and sweet and waited and hoped he stayed nice to her. So what if he was perving on her. It wasn’t like it was the worst thing that had happened the past few months. And it was Gabe. He was hot. She’d liked him. Liked—past tense—being the key word, here.

  “I can’t believe you would spy on me!” she shouted, more to fill the increasingly distressing silence than anything else.

  He stared at her for another moment. Julie paused to consider her options; the smartest one seemed to be running. Maybe she should have put on shoes after all.

  “Pam, stop,” Gabe said. The girl at his feet hadn’t slowed down during all this.

  She finally pulled back. “Yes, sir.”

  Julie started to back away, inching toward the door, while Gabe zipped himself back up. Then he turned off the machine and started to undo the other girl’s bonds. He didn’t look up from his task when he said: “Julie, if you run from me, you will regret it. Don’t move another inch.”

  Julie stopped, frozen in place. There had always been something about Gabe. When he told you to do something, you did it. She couldn’t explain why. It still made the most sense in her head to run, but Gabe said don’t move and she found herself unable to go against him. She couldn’t be sure if it was fear, or an emotion far more subtle. She’d always responded this way to him. So despite everything inside her screaming to run, she stayed.

  “Pam, you can go. Lock the door on your way out. I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Yes, sir.” The girl spared Julie a look on her way out the door that made Julie want to run even more, but Gabe was stronger and faster, and he might not shoot her, but what the hell was wrong with her? Why had she gotten so angry? Because she’d stupidly trusted him. Though she’d known how foolish it was, she’d trusted him when he’d said he would protect her and that he wouldn’t hurt her. But he just wanted to use her and toss her aside like all the others had. He wasn’t going to like sex with her when he did it. She hadn’t been very popular at Dmitri’s house with the other men. She saw no reason why that should be any different with Gabe.

  The door clicked shut, and he slowly crossed the room to her.

  “Were you aiming for my head?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Be glad you missed. Sit.”

  “W-where?”

  “My chair is fine.”

  Julie crossed the room and sat in the chair he’d vacated. This was so weird. This whole thing was so weird. Sure, she hadn’t thought past the initial thrill of throwing the first thing she found at his head, but this almost business-like reaction was freaking her out.

  Gabe paced back and forth and sighed. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. For a shocking moment right after the dildo had hit him and he’d rounded on her all fury and shock, she’d been sure he would jump out of the chair and pounce on her like a wild animal. But this calmness was more frightening. It was the behavior of someone who knew he had the upper hand and that he could take his time meting out whatever retribution he decided on. He was calm and calculated like Dmitri and that scared the shit out of her.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” he said finally.

  Julie stayed quiet.

  “Not even going to apologize?”

  “I’m not sorry.”

  Gabe’s eyebrows rose the slightest bit. “I know you’re not a stupid person, so can I assume you’re really brave?”

  Julie’s hands started to shake, and she put them on her lap in an attempt to still them. She shrugged.

  Gabe moved closer and put one hand on either arm of the chair she was sitting in. He leaned in so close she could smell his shampoo.

  “Look at me.”

  She looked up. Some of his anger had melted away. That was something at least. Maybe now she could go back to the be nice and sweet plan and all would be forgotten and forgiven.

  “I told you I wasn’t going to force you to be my slave. But I still paid half a million dollars...”

  “You said that was ransom. You said I wasn’t your property.”

  Gabe pushed off the chair and took a few steps back as if he needed to put some distance between them. “Fuck it. I lied. You are mine. Yes, I wired up your room for surveillance. Half to keep an eye on you in case you needed something, and yes, half because I wanted to look at what is mine.”

  Tears began to roll down Julie’s cheeks. She’d expected a
nother lie at least. He couldn’t have the decency of shame about it?

  “Don’t do that. You threw a fucking dildo at me. Don’t do the pathetic crying routine.”

  “So everything’s a lie. You’re going to take what you want from me and prostitute me and who cares because I’m just a whore anyway, right?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake. No! I didn’t lie to you. I lied to myself. I thought I could separate things out fully, that I could think of the money as a ransom and see myself as some big hero rescuing you. But that’s not realistic. I do want you. You are mine. And yes, I know how creepy it is that I wired your room up. And if you want me to say I plan to unhook it and stop watching you… well, I won’t. But I’m not going to force myself on you. And if you think I would share you with anybody else in this house or elsewhere, then you don’t know the first thing about me.”

  “But you said you weren’t monogamous.”

  “I didn’t mean I would pass you around.”

  “So you want to play around with others, but won’t let me do the same?”

  Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “Really? You want to play around, Julie?”

  She looked down at the floor. “No.”

  “That’s what I thought. And I was clear that if we were in a relationship, it wouldn’t be equal.”

  She decided to move right past all that. She didn’t want to be in a relationship with Gabe Griffin. Or she shouldn’t want to be in one. And she didn’t think she could handle it anyway. “Are there cameras in the bathroom?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Are you going to put them in the bathroom?”

  “No.”

  “Fine. I’ll change clothes in there, then.”