Sean took the sting out of her career. All Harper could do was watch it spiral to a pathetic end. When she was with Sean, all worries about her future disappeared. However, as soon as she was alone—or, worse, in the house while her roommates chattered about their upcoming shows, a deep depression washed over her. It was punctuated only by bouts of anxiety.

There was no way she could tell Sean about getting fired from the agency. Or how she’d be homeless in a few days. Whenever she wasn’t with him, she scoured Craigslist for cheap housing and side hustles. However, the few so-called “modeling gigs” she’d emailed about ended up being nothing but thinly veiled porn. I’m not that desperate yet.

Harper cornered Helena in the kitchen one morning while Helena nibbled on a rice cake and black coffee. “I’m a lot better,” she started. “I think I just overdid it at the gym that day. Do you think—”

“Your body too tired,” Helena said with a shrug. “Can’t handle the stress of modeling.”

With just a week left before she got the boot, Harper sucked it up and called her mom. She’d moved to southern Oregon as soon as Harper had deposited the first fat modeling check in their joint account. From what she’d heard from the infrequent letters from Ashland, it was a beautiful town full of hippies and overpriced Shakespeare productions.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Harper? What’s wrong?”

The concern melted her. “I just … the manager here says my body can’t handle the stress of modeling. I was wondering—”

“That’s it? Your stressed? Harper, we’re all stressed.” She heard a male voice in the background. “I don’t have time to handle your problems right now on top of my own. James is taking us to Bali for the long weekend and I haven’t even started packing.”

“James?” She’d never heard the name.

Her mom lowered her voice. “Silicon Valley money,” she whispered. “Just … I don’t know. Go to the gym, work out the stress. I have to go.”

She wasn’t surprised. Harper logged into her various accounts, including the high-interest savings account her mom didn’t know about. I can live for a few months off this, she thought. Ask anyone outside of Los Angeles or New York, and it was a hefty nest egg. But it wouldn’t last long in L.A.

The Facebook tab on her laptop lit up with a notification. Yet another invitation to some designer’s showcase. However, when Harper clicked on it, Sophia’s message popped back up. Could I do New York? Sophia hadn’t mentioned a salary, but it would surely be enough to live on.

“Hi Sophia,” Harper wrote. “I’ve thought it over, and I would love to set up a time to talk with you about opportunities in New York. I can come to you, if you’d like.”

Sophia started to type right away. “Why the sudden interest? I messaged you over a week ago.”

Harper could feel the coolness from across the country. “I don’t think my body’s up for modeling anymore,” she admitted. “It’s time to start looking at transitional careers.”

“Did Helena kick you out?”

God, did she know? How quickly did gossip go bi-coastal? “I have to be out in one week,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Sophia said. “Truly. I do have a vacant apartment here in Manhattan that would be included in the benefits package of whoever I have. IF you pass the in-person interview, of course. I’ll be in Los Angeles on Wednesday on business. Can you meet then?”

“Definitely. Just let me know the time and place.”

There. At least it was a solid lead. But what about Sean? Could she really up and leave now? Harper didn’t know if she could handle it all without him.

“Busy?” she texted him.

“Just got up, not scheduled for another six hours. Come over.”

Harper pulled on her sandals, grabbed her keys and headed for the door.

“How’s my good girl?” Sean asked as soon as she walked in.

Harper dropped her beg and pulled her shirt off as she walked towards him. All she wanted in that moment, all she needed, was him to make her forget.

He laughed as she threw herself at him. “Normally I’d expect you to be a little more proper, sweetheart, but I have to say your energy is unprecedented.”

“Tell me what to do,” she said. That’s all she needed. To be told what to do.

Sean slammed her against the wall. Her bare back pressed into the cold stucco covered in his art. “Turn around,” he said.

She obeyed, and he immediately pulled down her skirt. “No panties, you’ve learned well,” he said. “Raise your hands.”

Harper didn’t look behind her, but heard him open the drawer. Sean slipped rough ropes around her wrists, not the usual slick bondage ropes. He bound them tight and attached her hands to the empty curtain rods that ran across the ceiling. There was just enough give that she could move slightly.

Sean grabbed her hips and pulled her back. Her feet lifted off the wooden floor. When she landed, she was bent nearly in half and the ropes cut slightly into her skin.

“See this?” Sean asked. A black riding crop appeared in her line of vision. He traced it along her cheek. “Remember your safe words.”

He reached below and sharply pinched each of her nipples.

The first swat was relatively light. The sting was delayed. Harper didn’t feel the full impact until he’d swatter her again, harder, on the other cheek. She cried out, mostly in surprise. The pain was sharp, but fleeting. Sean’s warm palm smoothed each site, and he pressed comfort into the pain.

By the tenth swat, she panted. Harper looked at her thighs and saw that her juices had streamed down nearly to her knees. The eleventh swat, and there was no unmarked area on her ass. “Eden,” she whispered.

Sean took extra time smoothing her flesh. “More?” he asked. “Ready?”

“One more,” she said. The twelfth took her over the edge. She pressed her eyes shut through the pain.

“That’s enough,” Sean said. He tested her wetness and she writhed against his hand. Still, she heard a cap open.

Harper looked over her shoulder and saw Sean with a bottle of lube. “Do … do you really need that?” she asked. She’d never been so wet.

“Are you questioning me?” he asked.

“No. Sorry. No, sir,” she said.

“Trust me, you’ll want it,” he said. “Have you ever been fucked in the ass before?”

Her eyes widened. “No,” she said. Is that what he was going to do?

A smile spread across his face. “I’m honored to be your first,” he said. She bristled with unexpected pleasure as he circled her rim with the cold lube. “I’ll go slow.”

Harper dropped her head and focused on the unfamiliar sensations. With one hand, Sean expertly worked her clit and she groaned with pleasure. His other index finger went from spreading the lube and teasing her rim to sliding inside her. She cried out, but it was surprise, not pain. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

By the time Sean had worked his finger completely into her ass, she realized she pushed against him. The contrast of the stimulation on her clit and the fullness his finger offered pushed her towards the edge.

“That’s a good girl,” he said as he removed his finger. “Remember your words.”

Harper grunted as he pressed his tip against her rim. There’s no way, no way it will fit. She could tell he’d lubed himself up, too. His tip slid in, no more than half an inch. “Eden,” she said tightly. “Eden.”

Sean stopped, his hands on her hips, but he didn’t remove himself. She was grateful for the rough rope at her wrists. That relatively minor pain offered a welcome distraction. “You want to stop?” he asked.

She thought she heard disappointment in his voice. “No,” she said. “Just … slow.”

He eased in another half inch and she cried out. She felt his hand move from one hip back to her clit. As he started to flick, she felt her juices return. With every inch, he increased the pressure or speed on her clit. The juxtaposition, the pain married to the pleasure, put her in another element.

Sean held himself, still, deep inside her. “This is enough this time,” he said. He began to skillfully flick her clit. “Come for me,” he said. “Like this, I’m telling you to come for me.”

She felt full, too full, but the pain mixed with pleasure put her in a state where she couldn’t think about anything but pleasing him. Doing exactly as he said.

When Harper came, she heard droplets hit the floor. She looked down to see a puddle between her legs. “You squirted,” he said, and bent down to kiss her shoulder. “Just your second time. It seems you like it rough.”

“Yes,” she said, and caught her breath as he eased himself out of her.

She looked forward to the pampering that always followed. To the pets and caresses, the sight of the black robe.

As Sean ran a brush through her hair, she watched him in the propped-up full-length mirror. I should tell him, she thought. But no matter how she tried to formulate the words, they just didn’t seem to come together right.

Why bother? she wondered. What could he do? What if the only decent job I can get takes me out of the city?

It wasn’t just that. What if his face falls when I tell him I’m not a model anymore? The weight of the unknown pressed down on her. Modeling wasn’t just a job, it was her whole life. She’d never known anything else.

Not being a model meant she’d get fat. She knew it, and he probably knew it. And if she was fat, there’s no way he’d be attracted to her anymore. The thought of him dumping her, on top of everything else …

No. Just stay quiet for now.