Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Nonplussed, I follow his broad back as we make our way down the stairs to the basement area. Okay, this is getting weird. I thought for sure I would stay in the guest bedroom, but I suppose not. Still, Art seems completely unconcerned as he leads me past the dungeon and to a dark, narrow hallway in the back with an open doorframe on the left.
“Here we are,” he drawls, eyes gleaming. “This is your room, sweetheart.”
I gasp because the space looks like something reserved for a nun. There are no windows, seeing that we’re underground, and the bedroom can’t be more than a hundred and fifty square feet. There’s a narrow twin-size pushed against the side with a reading lamp on a bed stand next to it, but no decorations on the blank white walls. There’s also a wooden desk with a spindly chair, and I step inside, unsure what to think.
“Well, it’s very … um, Spartan,” I murmur helplessly. “I suppose I can heap my clothes onto the desk, seeing that there’s no dresser.”
“You won’t need a dresser,” Arthur drawls in a lazy tone, his eyes running up and down my curvy form. “Our train honeys don’t wear much, and we provide everything a woman might need. Including lingerie, sanitary supplies, and toiletry items,” he says in a meaningful voice. “Here, come look. You have your own bathroom.”
He steps back into the hallway, and gestures to an open doorway about five feet down the hall. It leads to a stark white bathroom with a clawfoot tub on one side, as well as a mid-size shower stall and a single sink. There’s an enormous selection of soaps, shampoos, deodorants, perfumes, as well as white, fluffy towels placed on a warming rack. I let out a sigh of relief. This is more like it.
“I see,” is my murmur as I finger a rose-scented lotion. “This looks nice, thank you.”
“It’s all yours,” Arthur drawls with a grin. “And in case you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, but there are no doors on either your bedroom or your bathroom because we have a “free use” policy around here.”
I swivel around, staring at the door jamb and realize that it’s true. There was something missing from these rooms, and I couldn’t place what it was at first, but now that Arthur’s articulated the missing piece, it’s all too clear.
“Wait a minute,” I sputter. “I won’t have any privacy if there are no doors!”
The handsome man grins, flashing brilliant white teeth.
“That’s right,” he confirms in a lazy voice as if this is par for the course. “You belong to us for these two weeks, sweetheart, so it’s time to get used to being our property. After all, do chairs get doors? Tables? Dogs, even?”
“There are doggie doors!” I protest. “You know, those cut-out things that are knee-high.”
Arthur chuckles, as if he expected this line of reasoning.
“Yeah, but those doors exist for the owner’s convenience. The dog’s convenience is merely an after-thought, and now, you exist for our convenience. We say no doors, so that’s how it is, honey. Got you nervous?”
I’m definitely anxious at this point. My pupils are dilated and my heart’s racing at a hundred miles an hour. Not only that, but I can feel the faint flush of arousal on my cheeks and chest, and my thighs are already moist with anticipation. Oh god, this is so wrong, and yet I can’t deny that I’m intrigued. After all, no doors can mean only one thing: the men are pretty much free to come down and fuck me silly at any time, and I can’t wait.
Arthur reads my mind and growls then, his brown eyes gleaming.
“That’s right. Don’t be scared, baby girl, it’ll be fine.”
I stare at him.
“I hope so,” is my whisper. He nods with approval.
“Well, now that you’ve seen your new environs, I think we’re done here.”
“That’s it?” I manage to whisper.
He nods.
“For the moment, yes,” he says in a smooth voice. “But tonight’s your collaring, so we’ll see you upstairs in an hour. And Xenia, be sure to be nude for the ceremony, save for these puppies,” he says, pulling a pair of glittery knee-high boots out from behind his back. “Get clean, shave yourself, do whatever you need to get prepped, but we’ll expect you in an hour.”
Then, he sets the boots on the ground before disappearing upstairs with my bag still on his shoulder. For a moment, I’m stunned. Really? They’re taking my stuff? Not only is my cell in my duffel, but so is the new burner that I got, as well as all my lingerie, creams, lotions, and make-up. Oh well, I suppose I’ll have to use the supplies I saw in the bathroom, although they did look quite fancy, come to think of it. Thank goodness I don’t take medication on a regular basis because that would lead to an awkward conversation where I’d basically have to beg the club to make a special dispensation.