Joseph

 

 

 

“Can I assume that you’re still thirsty - and hungry?” I ask her.

She seems startled by my question, but nods. “Yes, I am.”

“I’ll be right back,” I tell her, before I turn around to leave her room.

I can feel her eyes following me as I walk out, filled with unspoken questions.

I walk back into the bathroom to gather up her things, the clothing she was asked to drop. She’s not going to wear any of them again any time soon, but her special item must be among them, and I swore to never leave a girl without her special protector. I wonder what she brought for herself. I didn’t find anything when I looked through her purse, the first thing I took away from her. She had nothing but her phone and a wallet in there, neither of which she can have while she’s here, as it’s clearly stated in the contract.

I fold her clothes and put them in a somewhat neat pile. The only thing missing is the gigantic red fur coat. The coat was the distinctive feature that made it easy for me to find and kidnap her, and I assume it’s also closely connected to the name she chose for herself. Her special item could be in one of the pockets of the coat, but as I search through them, I find nothing but a small business card.

Curious, I take the card out and hold it up to read.

Violent Delights. Ruby Red.

It’s the business card issued by the agency, Violent Delights. The girls are always asked to keep their cards on them, so they can identify themselves when asked. I never know their legal names, because I don’t need to. They discard their real identity as soon as they get caught up my in clutches. For thirty-nine days. I only for who they are when they are with me, and I know that person differs from the one they are in the outside world.

I take the card and put it into my pants’ pocket. She no longer needs it, just like she will not need her clothes. However, I might have to ask her about her special item. I’ve never had to do that before, since the special item is usually obvious.

I take the pile of clothes and the coat with me, and make my way downstairs. This mansion has been in my family for two generations. I inherited it from my grandparents when they decided to move to a milder climate in Florida, and I’ve lived here for most of my life. I would even go as far as to say that I grew up in these lavish halls, even though my parents have never lived here with me. My father grew up here, but he left at seventeen when he was sent off to college in hopes that he would one day follow in his father’s footsteps and continue the family’s real estate business.

But sometimes, things don’t work out as planned. Sometimes children disappoint their parents, sometimes they turn into major fuck-ups, leaving the burden for the next generation.

I grew from a bad seed, corrupted with this dark disease and vanity. Who knows what would have happened differently if I hadn’t changed the course of my destiny with the help of my grandfather years ago. I don’t want to think about it.

Locking up willing sex slaves every once in a while feels benign compared to the things I know I’m capable of. Yet, it’s an endeavor that needs to be kept secret. Even my house staff never gets to know the full extent of what I do to these women. And every time I release another pet back to freedom, I’m met with the same look in their eyes, the same hurt, the same confusion. I break them for good. They may be wealthy and free after I’m done with them, but they’re no longer the same person.

Since I sent my staff away, I will have to prepare my own food for the next few days. I usually have a personal chef on hand whenever I need him, but that’s mostly for times when I’m too busy to cook for myself. These thirty-nine days are my vacation, my reprieve. I select these days carefully and set things in motion far in advance, leaving myself with more freedom and time away from the business while I have a pet at home. I can’t withdraw completely and leave the business to itself for more than a month, but I can make sure that there are no major transactions, deals, meetings and contracts that need to be arranged during this time. It’s just business as usual, demanding not much more of my time than a couple of hours a day.

Ruby’s temporary living quarters take up most of the uppermost floor, an area that no one but me ever enters. My bedroom is right below hers, making it possible for me to hear her move around in her room, unless she’s locked up in the attic as punishment. Every door upstairs locks automatically, and only I have the keys to open them. All other doors are usually open, so the cleaning staff can enter at any time. Except for one room, my office. It’s right next to my bedroom, revealing too much about my sick obsession with the pet that’s living upstairs. They’re never free of me as long as they are here, even if I’m not physically present, but they don’t know it. Cameras in several corners take note of every movement, telling me of any transgressions during my absence.

I store her clothes in my office and then continue down to the first floor. The open kitchen is connected to a wide dining area that gets used rarely for special occasions. I’m usually by myself and prefer to eat at the counter instead of sitting at the huge table all by myself. I’ve never had a pet down here, because it wouldn’t be right. They have no place in my life outside of feeding my dark desires.

But I have cooked plenty of meals for my girls down here. I enjoy cooking, and it’s gratifying to prepare a meal for someone else, someone who’s giving so much of herself to me.

Ruby looked exhausted and starved, and she needs a proper breakfast to fuel her with new energy. I prepare her a good-sized portion of buttered whole grain toast, two scrambled eggs, bacon strips and half an avocado topped with some fresh fruit on the side because I know these women always ask for something fresh. She doesn’t strike me as someone who eats a dish like this on a regular basis, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate it now.

However, when I bring the plate up to her room, I don’t find her eagerly staring at the door awaiting my arrival. Instead, she’s curled up on her bed, still on her leash, and fast asleep.

She looks so peaceful, so unbelievably beautiful. I don’t have the heart to wake her up, but instead I leave the plate on her nightstand, carefully placing the blanket over her naked body before I retreat, trying to make little to no sound as I close the door.