Both of them wore the black collars. The taller woman gave me a sly smile as she looked me over.
“A new one? And shy, too, no?” Yes, her accent was definitely something European, but not very strong. She had to be at least thirty, which meant she’d probably been with Marco a while.
The other girl glared at me with something like contempt, and I felt myself shrinking from her. She was about my age, maybe even younger. I didn’t want to make any enemies, so I dropped my eyes, trying to show respect. Josef stayed at my side. I felt the warmth of his arm next to mine.
“Sea amable…” Perla warned the girl as she passed her. You be nice.
“Jin,” said Josef. “This es Angel. She speak only Inglés.” He nudged me and I looked up, nodding at her. “Angel, this es Jin, y this es Mia. We make her feel welcome, yes?”
Mia nodded, and Jin rolled her eyes. She actually rolled her eyes! What was her problem? Her immediate attitude toward me made me want to lash out. I didn’t want to be here and I didn’t deserve to be treated like shit from another slave. It wasn’t right. None of this was right.
“Angel,” called Perla from the bedroom area. “Ven aquí...come here, por favor.”
I passed the two girls, giving them plenty of space, and heard them enter the bathroom for showers. I went to Perla in the closet area while Josef fell naked onto his mattress for a rest.
Perla dressed me in a long-sleeved cotton dress that went to my ankles. It scooped low on my chest and back. She made a face at my chest.
“I tell Master you need bra. To lift.” She cupped her hands under my boobs and pushed them upward and inward, smiling at the small bit of cleavage that appeared. I fought the urge to move away or cover myself. She let them drop and pushed me onto a stool to do my hair—again in an elaborate, sophisticated bun. She powdered me and blushed me and painted my lips red, then looked at my fingers. One of my nails had been bitten off and was jagged. She filed it, giving me a gentle admonishment.
“You no bite.”
“Okay,” I whispered. It felt nice to let her take care of me, even if her boobs were swinging in my face half the time. I felt the overwhelming urge to hug her, but I didn’t.
She painted my fingernails and toenails red, just like hers. While I waited for them to dry, the door to our quarters opened and Luis stood there. My stomach dropped and my heart rate spiked. He was looking right at me.
“Angel,” he called. “You come with me.”
Perla quickly slipped my feet into a pair of open-toed black high heels and handed me a beautiful black masquerade mask lined with black feathers.
“You wear at lunch. Okay?”
“Thank you,” I told her, then walked up the step to meet Luis. I accidentally flinched away when he reached out and he shook his head, tsking.
“You must wear always except in this room.” He took a thin, black leather collar and put it around my neck. As he secured the buckle my eyes watered. I felt constricted, like I couldn’t breathe, though I knew it was only in my head. But fuck! I was being collared like a dog!
Luis reached for my arm and I pulled away, panicking.
Would they make me have sex with him again? Or someone else? Please not Marco. My stomach clenched and my feet wanted to dig into the floor to keep myself planted. Then my eye went to the gun holstered at Luis’s side, and a too-familiar sense of weakness washed over me, doing crippling things to my mind and will.
When he reached for my arm again I let him take it.
I wasn’t blindfolded or cuffed as we left the slave quarters, which brought me great relief, even if Luis did hold my arm in a vise grip. As if I could possibly outrun him or his gun.
I soaked in every detail of the house as he led me through it, and for a moment my terrible circumstances were not at the forefront of my mind. Calling the villa a house wasn’t really accurate. It was too massive and elaborate for that—more like a Mediterranean mansion or resort. Rooms that faced the ocean had floor to ceiling glass walls on one side. Some areas felt cozy and warm with tiled floors and seating areas, while other parts were wide open with grand ceilings and art of every assortment: paintings, sculptures, and hanging tapestries. Vibrant colors sprung from every direction.
I was taken to a small room that looked like a clinic or nurse’s station. Sterile. Medical stuff was lined on the counter. Luis led me to a paper covered exam table and I climbed up, sitting with a shudder. What was I doing here?
An older man in a suit entered and looked me over briefly before going to cabinets and doing something with his back to me. My pulse quickened as he pulled on rubber gloves with a snap and turned to me.
“Espa?ol?” he asked in a no-nonsense voice.