6
Bo
* * *
Was I unnecessarily harsh on Haley? I’m not exactly a nice guy – those who know me, know – but there’s no sense in going around insulting young girls just for the hell of it. Yes, she talks a lot, but I could tell it was out of courtesy more than anything.
Oh shit. Maybe I got a bit carried away when she started rambling about one of my books. Most guys would soak up the compliments, but I’ve had to deal with sycophants for so long that my reflex is to turn inwards whenever I’m praised. It’s perverse, I know, but that’s just how I am.
The best thing for Haley is to stay away from me because I’m no good for an innocent, trusting young woman. The worst part is that she has no idea. Haley literally thinks I’m a quirky artist, who’s probably just rude because I’ve been holed up for so long that I’ve lost all my social graces. But the truth is much more twisted than that. This author thing? It’s just a hobby. My real job, and my real proclivities, are dark, deep, and utterly twisted.
After all, I own a BDSM club named Club Om back in Portland. It’s on the outskirts of town, and very discreet with a high-end clientele. Only at the club do I truly come alive. I like my women submissive, obedient, and preferably on their knees. I can already tell that Haley would be shocked and horrified if she knew, not to mention impossible to tame. Yet my fingers itch and my cock hardens at the thought of putting her through obedience school. I’d love to attempt it.
We finished our meal in silence, the air between us frigid. Then Haley got up and loaded the dishwasher, and I couldn’t help but admire the roundness of her ass as she bent over, not to mention the baggy sweater which couldn’t hide her enormous breasts. I’d love to squeeze those melons before sucking on them, but let’s face it: this woman hates my guts.
Immediately after she was done, Haley started arranging books and other items in the living room. Discreetly, I watched her from the corner of my eye while sipping a drink and checking my laptop screen. She ignored me completely while plumping up the sofa cushions and dusting off the mantelpiece. It was only after she started up the vacuum that I retreated to my office, given the ear-splitting cacophony. Fortunately, the walls are thick in the cabin, and blocked out most of the sound. As a result, I picked up my phone to dial Jeffrey, my manager at Club Om.
“Hey boss, how’s it going?” the younger man greeted. “You getting a lot done on your book?”
I grunt.
“It’s fine. How’s the club?”
He chuckles. “Business is good, Mr. Nielsen. I think people really appreciate the new St. Andrews cross we purchased for the playroom. You know, the one where two people can be restrained at once, one in front and one in back.”
I let out a low chuckle. “Good, because that thing cost a fortune. How is membership, by the way? Did we get more referrals?”
Jeff chortles again.
“Yeah, definitely. Word of the club is getting around, and we practically have people begging to join. But hey, we’re elite for a reason.”
I nod. “Good, good. Anything else?”
“No. All quiet on the western front, sir. Enjoy yourself, Mr. Nielsen.”
With that, we hang up, and I stare off in space for a moment. To be honest, I’ve been itching to get to the club to satisfy the darker urges I have. This cabin is great for writing, but for physical expression, it’s useless. Sure, I indulge a little here and there with the internet, but there’s nothing like skin on skin. There’s nothing like a warm, wet woman with bouncy curves and a hungry smile on her face. Fuck, what do I do?
At that moment, the vacuum outside lets out a particularly loud roar, and I shake my head with frustration. Haley has no idea how close she’s toeing the line, but I restrain myself. She’ll be gone tomorrow, and out of my hair for good.
7
Haley
* * *
The grey light of dawn seeps through the shutters and my eyes slowly open. Checking my phone, I see it’s only 5 a.m. and flop back on my mattress. Dang, my head hurts and my muscles ache a bit. It’s that damned man’s fault. I couldn’t sleep well because Bo North pisses me off so much that I tossed and turned all night. That bastard. I wish I could shout at him to vent all my anger, but what’s the point? People Assist would never place me again. Besides, I’m leaving this morning, so he’ll be out of my life for good.
“Ugh. Screw you, Bo North,” I grumble while getting up. There was no sense in lying in bed anymore because I wasn’t going to fall asleep again. But before heading to the bathroom I peeped out the window and my heart sank.