Guilty Pleasures (16 page)

“Ms. Delaney?”

She looked at Lindsay, not sure she could keep the disgust off her face.

“I didn’t follow protocol. Even if Brian wasn’t going to do anything too extreme, they don’t want you fucking everything here. I should have respected that. I betrayed your trust.”

Her mouth gaped. “You betrayed my trust the moment you sent me to Dome. What’s a little boot licking and sticky hair added to that?”

He smiled. “I’m glad it didn’t put your fire out.”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

Lindsay took out a notepad and propped it on his knee, a pen poised over the paper. “One of my jobs here is to assess your psychological condition and how you’re responding to training. I want you to talk to me about Brian and how that made you feel. Was it him specifically, or what he did or . . . ”

Vivian just stared at him. “I can’t talk to you about that.”

“Why not?”

“Gee, let me think. You helped orchestrate my capture. You’re one of my captors. Yeah, I’ll just give you more weapons to use against me. Why don’t I make a list of everything I’m afraid of while I’m at it. That way you have all the torture options in one place.”

An exasperated look came over his face. “Let me put it to you this way. You will talk about this or you’ll be punished, then you’ll talk about it. And if I have to, I will hook you up to a polygraph machine. I can say I won’t use this knowledge against you, but you won’t believe me. And it doesn’t really matter what you believe. You have no options here except to obey. Now tell me about Brian.”

She looked at the orchids again. He was right, of course. But Anton’s earlier exclamation about her intelligence had been rattling through her head since he’d said it.

“I don’t know. It’s too many different people. I just . . . I can’t handle that many different people fucking me.” He started scribbling down notes as she talked. “There’s something very cold about him. On the coldness scale it’s him, you, Anton, then Gabe. I can barely deal with you.”

He smiled, still scribbling. “Noted. Is that all?”

Vivian shrugged, pulling at a stray thread on the gym shorts.

“What else?”

“I don’t know. Maybe what he did, but maybe not.”

“If it had been Gabe it wouldn’t have upset you, would it?”

Her eyes shot to his, her face flaming. The last thing she needed was for them to think she had some kind of schoolgirl crush on one of them. Before she could answer, he spoke again.

“It wasn’t lost on me how you reacted to him when he entered the room.” Lindsay sat the notepad on the desk and propped his feet next to it. “Here is how we operate. We only hire attractive men because we want to make training easier. It also subtracts a variable so we can get a better read on your reactions to things. It’s easier to get you to submit to beauty. And the easier it is for us, the quicker we can sell you and the more money we make.”

“What good does that do me if you sell me to someone ugly?”

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised how rarely truly rich people are ugly. A lot can be done with money, and few people with that much of it go about looking like troglodytes. Some of the men here have different styles of domination. We let them all play with the girls to see how they react and respond. Then we can match appropriate masters with suitable slaves. I still think it was beneficial for you to have that experience with Brian. But I knew he wasn’t supposed to be near you, and I was wrong to allow him to talk me into it.”

Their discussion went on for an hour, the standard length of time if they’d been having a normal session out in the normal world somewhere. He quizzed her on her various feelings about what had happened so far, her submissive desires, her earliest sexual fantasies.

She found herself detailing slave and kidnap fantasies she’d never repeated to anyone, giving words and form to thoughts and feelings that had swirled in the darker, hidden regions of her mind, locked away for years. The feelings that had been awakened when she’d met Anton at Dome.

He forced her to admit her own complicity in where she was and the fact that the blackmail had been her permission to allow the fantasy to play out and pretend that she wasn’t in some way responsible for it.

The openness with which she verbally expressed herself already showed in sharp contrast to the mousy, inhibited woman she’d been the first day she’d met the doctor. She could no longer work up shyness toward a man who had not only molested her in a coat room, but had recently been working a dildo in her ass. Talking about her sexual feelings was suddenly low on the scale of embarrassing and revealing with him.

By the time the session was over, he’d filled several pages. He glanced over the notes. “I’m very pleased with how well you’re opening up. Come here.” He crooked a finger and motioned for her as he placed the notebook back on the desk.

She rose from the chair and went to him as the lump formed in her throat again.

He sat, smirking up at her, no doubt reading the expressions play across her face.

“You’re very transparent, Vivian,” he said mildly.

“How so?”

She hated that he knew or felt he knew of some secret room in her psyche even she didn’t possess the key to. Since she’d arrived at the mansion, she felt nothing belonged to her anymore, not even her own thoughts.

Two sides of her existed at war. One side felt peace, the other railed and fought, clawing to get out and free herself from the web she’d been snared in. The web she’d kept walking into, sure she could untangle herself, until it had gotten too sticky, and she was trapped by her own stupidity and perhaps desperation.

He shrugged. “Ask nicely, and I might tell you.” He snapped a finger and pointed at the floor like she was some pet trying to climb up on the furniture.

The clawing, fighting side reared its ugly head as she glared at him. And before she could stop the words, they’d barreled right out of her mouth. “I’m not your dog.”

He chuckled. “You’re whatever I want you to be. Be wise, Vivian. I have quite a fondness for anal play. I’m sure we can find you a tail to crawl around in.”

The other side of her responded as her stomach did a little aroused flip at the idea that seemed to both repulse and excite her at the same time.

“I don’t want to have to punish you, and you don’t want me to have to.”

She sighed. She hated him, but he was right. She wanted to know what he’d been writing during their session. If he was willing to tell her, a little mild debasement wouldn’t kill her. Not after everything else.

She dropped to her knees and tried to come up with something suitable to say that wouldn’t sound like sarcasm. Maybe simple was best. “Please, Sir. Will you tell me?”

He shook his head. “Come, now Vivian, you can do better than that. I know you can. Somewhere in there is a deliciously naughty slut. You just have to let her out. What’s the problem? Talk to me.”

He’d pushed her head onto his thigh and was petting her hair.

“The problem is that I’m a prisoner being trained to service . . . ”

“No more lies, Vivian. That’s not the problem, and you know it. Don’t take the easy out. What’s the problem?”

She was crying now, her tears dampening his nice pants. “I don’t know what you want from me when you ask me to do something so vague.”

His fingers were still tunneling through her hair. “Are you self-conscious?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m looking for active participation, acceptance that this is your life now. You need to let everything go but the part of you you’ve been locking away. You need to open the door and let it out. Stop thinking. Start feeling. That’s why you were shut down when you came to me the first day.”

“This is wrong,” she said.

“So are a lot of things that happen in the world. Are you going to debate your rights with me now? You have the right to freedom and to pursue happiness, and . . . Tell me Vivian, were you happy in your old life?”

“No, Sir.”

“Well, then nothing is lost. Is it?”

She jerked her head up and just stared at him. Everyone in this asylum was fucked in the head. She wanted to dig her way out of the rabbit hole and go back to where life was normal. Where right was right and wrong was wrong. Where everything had its place and a neat little compartment. Where nothing was gray or backwards or upside down.

He raised an eyebrow. “When you came into my office that first day, you were upset that you couldn’t achieve orgasm.”

“No. I was upset Michael was making me see a sex therapist, like the problem was mine.”

“Wasn’t it? Did he not make an effort to help you come?”

She’d put her head back on his lap, not wanting to look into his eyes or let him see more of what lay behind hers. She sighed. “He did.”

“So then the problem was on your end, was it not?”

She shrugged against his thigh.

“Everything has a price, Vivian. Due to your particular mental landscape, your body will only respond with complete surrender. If you wanted to be a cold, frigid bitch, you wouldn’t have kept going back to Anton. You wanted what he could make you feel. You want what I can make you feel. Don’t you? There is no harm in admitting it now. You’re already ours. The only thing left is for you to accept it.”

She nodded.

“Words, Vivian. Give me words.”

“Yes, Sir. I want what you can make me feel.”

She felt his movement, then heard the shuffle of belt buckles and zippers as he freed his cock.

“Now, ask me again to share with you what I gleaned from our session today. Don’t think. Just feel.”

Vivian looked at the long, thick cock. The fighting side of her was screaming in her brain like a banshee on drugs. Vivian mentally dragged her through the corridors of her mind until she found a dark hole to throw her down. Then, satisfied with the silence in her head, she scooted up until her breasts were pressed against his thighs.

She placed open-mouthed kisses along his hardened length, then licked up the side and around the head. She glanced up, her eyes locking with his, letting him know which side of her was in the driver’s seat now.

“Good girl. Work me like a good little cocksucking slave, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

She went to work, moaning around him, shoving down all the stupid commentary in her brain that wouldn’t let her just feel anything without analyzing it to death first. She tasted the salty tang of his skin, felt the drops of pre-come as they slid down her throat. She felt the fullness of him in her mouth, and the power in making him come apart for her, as he tangled his fingers in her hair, his breath leaving him in heavy, erratic pants.

She felt the pain where Sabrina had hit her, but still she kept going, ignoring it in favor of the almost hypnotic sounds coming from the doctor’s throat.

When he’d finished, she sat back on her heels and looked up. “Please Sir, will you tell me now?”

He chuckled and mussed her hair. “There’s hope for you, yet.”

She blushed, still uncomfortable that she lapped up sexual praise like a dog when she should be fighting. Especially Lindsay.

He tucked himself back into his pants and righted his clothing, then he guided her head to rest on his thigh again as stroked her back.

“All right. Brian is a bit different, yes. You haven’t truly seen his level of cruelty in action, but you’re right to sense it. Of Anton, Gabe, and myself, you see me as the worst, Anton as a slightly lesser evil, and Gabe as the least evil. But that has nothing to do with what we’re doing to you here or our dominance style. You see me as the most evil because I set you on this path and delivered you to Anton. Gabe is least evil because he just happened to be here when you got here. But we all know what we’re involved in. We all work together to make this happen. There are no white knights in this house.”

Lindsay was right, of course. She was being ridiculous. She’d already developed an almost romantic crush on Gabe, seeing him as her protector or rescuer, but he was just as much her captor as anyone else.

She expected the doctor to demand verbal surrender, making her accept he was right. But he didn’t. Instead he helped her to her feet. His finger moved to her lip and lingered there.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugged.

“Not after all this progress, Vivian. Tell me.”

“I knew what you wanted, and you knew I’d been hurt. But you still wanted it.”

“I might have let you off the hook until you healed if you’d asked.”

“You would have been disappointed,” she said.

He smiled. “And that matters to you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir. I don’t want it to matter. It’s wrong that it matters.”

He nodded. “Do you understand why Anton brought you here now? You belong to us, and soon you’ll belong to one man who can give you what you need. Is that what you want?”

She looked into his eyes for a long time, the banshee screaming and trying to get out again. He must have seen it too.

“Forget your old life and that world. The moment you can truly shut that door, you’ll be free to feel what you feel. You’re safe here.”

She nodded, finally. “Yes, Sir.”

“Are you going to trust us to take care of you and place you with a good master?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nodded. “It’s almost noon. Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria and get a sandwich or something? Maybe sit by the pool and get some sun. You’re a little too pale.”

She left the room, not sure why she felt so floaty and calm, but tired of fighting it.

THIRTEEN

Without Sabrina to rule the roost, most of the cattiness had ceased. A few bikini-clad women splashed in the pool while Vivian lounged beside a small table. Taking Gabe’s diet restriction threats seriously, she’d gotten chicken salad on a croissant, a bowl of pineapples, and a glass of water with lemon.

When she finished eating, she peeled her shorts and top off to reveal a pink and white polka-dotted bikini. Vivian reclined in the lounger and closed her eyes, absorbing the warmth of the sun. The doctor was right, she didn’t get outdoors enough, which was ridiculous since she used to stay home all day. What would have been so hard about finding fifteen to twenty minutes to lay out and soak up the rays?