I followed Mom’s advice and let the girls rest for the rest of the afternoon, but it’s almost eight now, they’ve been fed and my mom’s gone home. I don’t want any of them going to sleep before I tell them the rules.

“Get off the sofa, it’s time,” I tell Rocco, who’s been nodding off since eating three heaping plates of mom’s spaghetti earlier.

He grumbles and groans, but does it, while I climb halfway up the stairs. “Girls! Please come downstairs!”

Kat is the first to poke her head out of her door. “Get the others then come downstairs,” I say curtly. Mostly since I’ve been picturing her naked with her shapely lips wrapped around my cock all afternoon, and I’m still not sure if it’s a good idea to turn that fantasy into reality.

“‘Please’ was a little over the top, no?” Rocco jokes as I return downstairs to stand in the doorway to the living room.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say grinning at him. “But I’m sure my mother would appreciate my manners.”

“She likely would,” he says and chuckles, then his face grows serious and imposing as the first of the girls comes downstairs.

“Through here,” I say pointing at the living room and ignoring their scared faces, as they cast sheepish glances at Rocco and me.

They’re all so skinny that four of them fit on the sofa, but Kat takes the armchair I was sitting in before getting up to call them. She looks like a queen on her throne. Sort of. Though her eyes are scared more than anything else. But coy too. I’m sure she’s no stranger to twirling guys around her little finger. Hell, I’ve barely spoken to her, and I’m just about ready to fall at her feet.

“I’m sure you must be tired, so I’ll get right to the point,” I say after clearing my throat in an effort to dispel that particular fantasy. “This is your home now, and it’s entirely up to you how pleasant your stay here will be. If you do as you’re told and don’t make any trouble, it can be a good home.”

I pause in the speech I’ve been practicing for the last five days to gauge their reaction. They’re all staring at me with fear bordering on terror. Some of them already have the shaky lip and are probably seconds from bursting into tears. But not Kat. I can’t read much in her eyes. Unless it’s interest. Just what I want to see on any other woman I have a boner for. But not on her. Because she’s off limits.

“You’ll be locked in your rooms at night, but not during the day,” I continue. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the cameras in your rooms. You’ll be doing video sex to start with, and I’ll explain more about that tomorrow.”

“No real sex?” one of them asks, interrupting me. She sounds so relieved it’s unnerving.

“Not to start with, no,” I answer.

My father has the policy of introducing his whores into the business slowly, and I’m really glad for it right now. It could be months before any of these new recruits have to go on a live date. Or it could be a couple of weeks, depending on their popularity. I bet Kat’s gonna be real popular, and that thought doesn’t sit well with me.

“I’ll explain more tomorrow,” I continue. “For now, return back upstairs, shower and go to sleep. I think Carla arranged some clothes for you.”

“She did, yes,” Kat says. “She is very nice.”

I nod, but don’t know how to reply. “I’ll come lock the doors in about an hour. There are bars on all the windows, so don’t try to escape. Someone will be up all night making sure you’re behaving yourselves.” It’ll be me tonight, but I don’t tell them that. “Like I already said, this could be a smooth, pleasant experience, or hell, and the choice is entirely yours.”

Two of them are staring at me defiantly, but luckily don’t say anything, so I don’t have to get any more unpleasant with my warnings. I will, if I have to. I feel for them in their predicament, but I’m no pushover. I know what my job here is. And what I told them is the truth. They can have a cozy life here, if they behave.

“Go now,” I add, refusing to meet Kat’s eyes as she passes me, even though she’s desperately trying to catch mine.

But nothing good can come of us getting any closer.

A few moments later I can hear the sound of showers running. I can also hear their muffled voices as they talk.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out,” Rocco says. “You’re fine here without me, right?”

There’s a clear undertone of doubt in his voice, but I ignore it. “Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

Once he’s gone, I go out to the porch for a cigarette, locking the door behind me. I’m trying really hard not to picture Kat soaping herself up in the master bathroom right above my head.

The cigarette I meant to smoke turns into five, and it’s almost ten by the time I finally go back inside to lock them into their rooms. The house is completely quiet, all the bedroom doors closed. The silence makes me nervous, makes me think that they might be waiting to clobber me on the head with something. But everything that could be used as a weapon has either been removed from the house, or is safely locked up, and I think I can take five skinny girls, so it’s a stupid thought.

I start at the far end of the hallway, checking each room to make sure the girl is inside before locking her in. I have the urge to bid the first one that looks at me goodnight, but I refrain. That would be getting too friendly too soon. It’s better, easier in the long run, that they stay afraid of me. That was father’s advice, though he never told me to be mean to them. Just stern and strict.

Pretty soon the only door left to lock is Kat’s. She chose the master bedroom overlooking the porch.

And even as I slide open her door I’m still not sure I won’t be walking in to join her.

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed as I peer inside, wearing just a short nightshirt, the light on the nightstand making her long, slender legs glow gold.

“Can I have a glass of milk?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah, sure, come on,” I say and open the door wider, without even considering that there might be a more sensible way to deal with this.

Like saying no, or bringing her the glass of milk myself. But it’s too late to change my mind now, since she’s already passing me. The nightshirt she’s wearing barely covers her ass, and I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing any underwear underneath it. We’re practically alone in the house, and no one will disturb us. No one will know, if I do anything more than drink milk with her.

So all in all, letting her get her own glass of milk was probably one of the best decisions I ever made.

* * *

KAT

I don’t know the real reason why I asked for milk, or why I’m preceding him into the kitchen now. But getting milk isn’t the reason. I rarely drink it.

All afternoon I’ve been thinking about Vin and how obviously he likes me. He hardly even looked at the other girls, while he gave that speech in the living room. He only had eyes for me. I could use that to my advantage somehow. Like maybe I could find something to attack him with then run out of this house and get help.

Escape was pretty much an impossibility on the ship, even without the threats the men with us kept issuing day and night, until some of the girls did nothing but cry all the time. A few of us who weren’t so cowed by all that joked about jumping into the water and waiting for some brave sailors to rescue us. But the water was very dark and very deep, and they only let us out onto the deck for fifteen minutes at a time and watched us like hawks.

Now escape is suddenly a possibility again. This house is on such a normal street. I’m sure someone would help me, if I ran around screaming.

But all the furniture in the kitchen is plastic, and all the cupboards are locked shut with huge padlocks. There’s not a single knife in sight, nor is there anything to pick up and threaten him with.

“The fridge is that way,” he says, pointing at it with his head, while he picks up one of the plastic glasses we used at dinner and shakes off the few droplets of water still clinging to it. “And here’s a glass.”

He holds it out to me.

“OK,” I mutter and take it from him then twirl around to face the fridge. Which is the only thing with a door that’s not locked in this whole kitchen. Possibly in the whole house.

I swing open the door, and I get hungry all over again at the sight of all the food in there. There’s everything from mayonnaise, to all sorts of salamis, and heaps of vegetables and fruit.

“Here,” he says, reaching past me and grabbing the carton of milk. I get a very strong wave of his scent as he does so, musky yet clean, fresh like some clearing in a pine forest, and it hits me just below the navel with a physical force. He’s standing so close we’re almost touching.

“Thanks,” I murmur, and take the milk he’s offering.

“What were you looking around for? Weapons?” he asks, but he doesn’t sound annoyed, just amused, but in a carefree sort of way like we’re just having fun. Like my life doesn’t depend on getting out of this house before I get used and abused even more than I’ve already been.

He wants me, his desire for me is a palpable thing right now. I could always sense that, but for all my beauty and vanity, I never knew what to do with guys’ attention. I hid that well, just let them take the lead, but I don’t think I ever enjoyed being with any of them as much as I could have. With Vin it could be different. Somehow, I’m sure of that.

And maybe that’s the best path to my escape from this place. He will fall in love with me, then he will rescue me, and we will live happily ever after. I should make him fall in love with me. I wish I knew how. Back home I had a few creepy stalkers over the years, but that kind of obsession is as close, as I ever came to love.

“I was just looking around,” I mutter and turn to him. I should touch him now, run my hand down his arm or something. He’s changed from his suit, is wearing jeans and a t-shirt now, the bulging muscles in his arms clearly visible. But I’m holding a glass in one hand and a carton of milk in the other, so it’s not exactly doable.

“Let me pour that for you,” he says, grinning as he takes the milk and glass from my hands, his fingers brushing mine as he does so, sending a river of heat up my arm.

“Here you go,” he says and offers me the full glass, then finally takes a step back, so I can move away from the fridge. I walk over to the counter, consciously making my hips sway even more than they usually do. That’s the kind of thing guys like.

His eyes are literally eating me up when I turn back to face him.

“Milk’s not the real reason why you wanted to come down here, is it?” he asks. It’s a question, but everything in his eyes and on his face, even in the way he’s standing, with his wide chest squared toward me, is telling me he already knows he’s right.

“You said we could have a pleasant time here,” I hear myself say in a sultry, seductive voice, which I don’t think I’ve ever heard myself use before. I may look like a seductress, but that illusion is always gone when I open my mouth. “Sleeping alone in a locked room is not pleasant,” I add.

He walks up to me and I’m sure he’s going to kiss me now, but he stops just short of actually doing it. “What else did you have in mind?”

He knows exactly what I meant, his eyes are telling me that plainly. So he’s either just toying with me, or he actually wants my permission to kiss me, and I’m not sure which it is. All I know is that the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach are very real and much stronger than any I’ve ever felt before. They make no sense. This man is my captor.

“You could kiss me, if you want,” I whisper, and it sounds kind of dumb, but right at the same time.

He wastes no more time after that, his lips brushing mine, softly at first. I part my lips slightly and his kiss gets bolder, his tongue jostling with mine in my mouth. Before long we’re sharing a hard, dirty, wet and needy kiss, but there’s softness and sweetness in it too, so much of it I forget I’m a captive in this house, that all the windows have metal bars on them, and that I’m his property, about to become a whore for life. Right now I’m just a girl kissing a boy she likes.

His hands are all over my ass and back, grabbing my breasts through the thin fabric of my shirt, and that betrays what this really is. The prelude to a quick dirty fuck with no romance. But I don’t mind it. The passion he has for me comes through in his kiss, in every touch of his hands. And I like it, I share it, enjoy the feel of his hard body in my arms. I want to get naked for him, see his nakedness too. Feel his cock on my lips, in my mouth, in my pussy.

His fingers find my clit just as I think it, like my thoughts guided him there, and in seconds he has me moaning, as his fingers caress my pussy, dip inside me every so often, but not harshly, not hard. He knows what he’s doing, which isn’t something I can say for the guys I’ve been with before him. Not that I’m really thinking about any of that, or about anything at all. Because his fingers in my pussy, his soft, wet lips against mine are making me yearn for the sweet release of an orgasm, until that’s all I can focus on.

But just as it’s within my reach, his lips leave mine, and his fingers retreat from my pussy.

I yelp as he lifts me up by my waist and sets me down on the counter. He slides my shirt up over my stomach and breasts, and I let the glass of milk fall from my hand, so he can take it off all the way.

“You really are a stunningly beautiful woman,” he groans more than says, as I sit naked before him, my legs spread wide. His words feel like I’ve swallowed a warm, sweet beverage I’ve been craving for a long time.

His lips find my nipple, teasing it with kisses and bites, and then I’m moaning and forgetting how to think again.

“I need to have you,” he mutters, and I’m not sure he knows he said it aloud.

He unbuckles his jeans, yanks them down along with his boxers too, and I only get a second to be scared of how fat his cock is, before he pushes it inside me. The next second I’m coming so hard around it, I forget how to breathe too.

He only slows his advance into my pussy for a moment, giving me a questioning look before his eyes glaze over with pure desire, and he starts pumping his cock into me, faster and faster, each thrust going deeper. I grab onto his shoulders to keep steady, though there’s really no need, since his strong arms are holding me in place exactly the way he wants me. A new orgasm is already building deep in my pussy, and I’m screeching and moaning, unsure if I actually want it to come, because the intensity of the build up is already too fierce, too consuming. The room is spinning around me, and I feel like I’m on the ship again, as we sail through a vicious storm.

“Shh, keep it down,” he whispers into my ear, then makes it impossible as he grabs me even tighter and delivers a series of fast and shallow jabs to my pussy, that cause my whole body to unravel around him, and make me forget how to control my voice and my eyes.

Everything is still fuzzy when he releases me, his cock sliding out of me as he takes a step back.

“That was even better than I imagined,” he says, and the wide grin on his face is the only thing I can see clearly. I just nod. I never knew sex could feel this great, and I’ve certainly never had orgasms like these.

He pulls up his pants, moves to the sink and pours a glass of water, then takes a gulp. But he stops midway and offers the glass to me instead.

“Here, you probably need it more,” he says.

My hand is shaking as I take it, even though I don’t know if I’m thirsty. I don’t know much at all. The only thing I do know is that I just came harder than I ever have before, and I don’t want this memory to fade. But the cold water feels good trickling down my throat too.

The memory and the warmth the orgasms left are already fading, and they’re pretty much gone as he hands me my shirt. “Get dressed.”

I know this part well too. He fucked me, and now he’s done with me. I should’ve played it better, made him wait, made him beg for it. I shouldn’t have just spread my legs for him so easily. Now he’ll never fall in love with me. How could I be so stupid that I forgot that number one rule about men?

I don’t say anything, just slip off the counter and get dressed. He’s already fastened his belt and is waiting to take me back upstairs and lock me into my bedroom.

Katarina the Stupid. No doubt about it.

But he’s still looking at me like maybe he doesn’t want me to get dressed just yet.

“Where is your bedroom?” I ask with a firmness in my voice that I don’t feel.

“Back there,” he says and points at a door to the side of the fridge. “But it’s small and cramped. I was just gonna crash in the living room tonight.”

“Oh, I haven’t watched TV in ages,” I say without thinking.

He smiles at me, but it’s a sad sort of thing. Though maybe that’s just because he looks like he’s half asleep already.

“Do you want to?” he asks. The confused look in his eyes makes me sure that was the last thing he meant to say.

But I’m not about to pass up this opportunity.

“Yes,” I say and walk past him and across the hall to the living room before he can change his mind.

He’s right behind me though, and is the first to plop down on the sofa, picking up the remote as he does so. He taps the spot beside him and turns on the TV.

I sit down very close to him, and he just grins at me again, then wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Might as well do this right.”

I’m not quite sure what he means, but I smile and nod anyway. He hands me the remote. “You can pick something for us to watch,” he says. “Since it’s been so long for you.”

Then he gets more comfortable and pulls me even closer. I flip through the channels, but nothing that flashes past really registers, since I’m trying to think of something to say.

“What would you like to watch?” I finally ask, but by then he’s already asleep, his chest rising and falling with his even breaths.

I snuggle up to him even closer and stop flipping through the channels, because I’m suddenly very sleepy too. And the last thought I remember having is that I should be going through his pockets to find the keys and get out of here. But for some reason, I feel safer in his arms than I’ve ever felt in my whole life. And I think maybe he’ll let me go, if I ask him to.