Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

And I could feel Mr Sinister’s eyes fixed hard on me as I looked through onto the dungeon room. His stare was intense, soaking up my reaction. I hoped he didn’t see the clench of my thighs, or the way my skin prickled at the thought of Brandon Grant’s hands on my flesh. I hoped he didn’t see the way I struggled to swallow with a dry throat, sealed up tight with nerves.

“This is one of the main show areas,” he told me and I managed a nod. “The chairs here are for our privileged client audience. They pay a lot for such a privilege. Sometimes they also pay extra to enter the scene, as you will find out in person soon enough.”

I counted the spread of chairs around us. There were enough for my stomach to flip. Ten. Ten seats with a clear view of events through the glass. I wondered if all ten would enter the scene at once and the thought of ten men assaulting me was enough to make me tremble.

I didn’t like this. Didn’t like it at all.

“Take a seat,” he offered and gestured to one at the front.

I lowered myself gently, trying not to show how scared I was as he dropped himself into the seat to my left. I could feel the heat from him. From the slick tailoring of his suit. I could hear his calm breaths. Smell the heaviness of his aftershave. A smell that turned my stomach.

I kept my eyes focused ahead. I looked through the glass at the wooden cross with shackles in the dungeon room and how it looked even larger than the one in Brandon’splace. I looked at the raised bed in the middle, with black rubber looking sheets and enough chain and rope to tie up a small army.

“You must be getting used to such environments after a few days in Mr Grant’s care, yes?” Mr Sin pushed.

“Yes, sir. I think so, sir,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice steady.

Confidence. I needed confidence in this place. So much more confidence.

“Tell me, Miss Emmerson,” he said. “Have you ever seen anyone else undertake a punishment session?”

It took a second for me to register quite what he meant. I shook my head in earnest.

“No, sir. Nothing… there was only me…”

I shied away as he landed his hand on my bare knee and squeezed hard. “Excellent. You can count this as an unexpected treat. I hope you enjoy being in the audience seat, you may well even learn something.”

My heart leapt when a door on the other side of the glass opened and two burly security type guys stepped on into the dungeon.

And now my heart was racing when a third of them pulled in a naked figure to join them and slammed the door closed behind.

“Miss Lane is quite a talented little slut, you know.” Mr Sinister laughed as they threw her onto the mattress and took up positions around her. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t blink, couldn’t move a muscle as she clambered around on all fours, trying to keep all of them in view. “Mr Grant worked wonders with this one. I hope he did the same with you.”

My eyes flitted up to him. To his smirk. To his side eye. But it wasn’t those that gave me the shiver of an impression. I guess it was his tone. The condescension in the way he spoke about Brandon. Like this was the main event, right here. Like Brandon was merely an assistant at some sideline venture and this was the hub of the action.

Like Mr Sinister himself was the true boss of the operation.

Maybe he was.

Maybe he always had been.

Maybe this shift had always been on the cards.

“I’ll be watching Rebecca right now?” I asked without thinking, hoping the horror in my voice wasn’t too obvious.

His eyes burned mine and I gulped in a breath.

“Sir,” I added. “I’ll be watching Rebecca now, sir?”

“Yes, Miss Emmerson, you’ll be watching Miss Lane’s session and you’ll be grateful for the opportunity to gain some visual experience and pointers for yours.”

I should say thanks, but I couldn’t. I should give my gratitude for even being allowed to sit in this audience space and look onto anything I could possibly learn from, but I couldn’t do that either.

He must have pressed a button or nodded to someone to trigger something or other, because a crackle gave way to the sound of Rebecca’s laboured breathing as some speakers blared out loud. I felt my cheeks burning and my heart racing all over again.

“She’ll be beamed live to client webcam in just a few moments,” Mr Sinister informed me.

I couldn’t see the wall of lights in the room around her that I’d been getting used to with Brandon. Couldn’t see the blink of green lights clicking in from red as the cameras went live. I didn’t doubt they were in there though.