Mandy walks over and stands in front of the bed, and I open the bag Samantha gave her, removing the angel wings. I had requested whatever costume she was dressed in to be sent with her, and this is all too perfect. I’m dressed as the devil in a room that looks like Satan’s sleeping chamber. And I intend on spoiling this perfectly innocent angel before me.
I slowly walk up behind her and get as close as possible without touching her.
“Remove the robe, kitten,” I whisper against her neck.
I practically see the chill move down her body, and with just a slight hesitation, she does as I ask. I hold out the wings and help her put them on, and then take a step back.
“Turn around.”
When she does, I feel a sinister smile creep across my face as I stand back and look at my prize.
5
Mandy
I’m fucking livid, but even worse than that, I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I wanted to smack him right across the face when we got into the limo. Then I thought I should give him what he wants before he can order me to do it. I wanted to beat him to the punch and have it be on my terms. When he stopped me from trying to give him a blow job, I was so embarrassed, and a true moment of uncertainty hit me. Maybe sex wasn't part of why he bought me. Maybe he didn't want me in that way. I thought maybe this was still all about my brothers. But then he started snapping orders, and a whole different feeling came over me.
His tone was unlike his normal one. I’d heard him be short with people on multiple occasions when I worked for him, but this was different. Each command shot through my body as if each vein were a live wire. I didn’t want to do what he said, but my body betrayed me. Maybe it’s because I now belong to him. He owns my body this time around, and if he wants to use it he can. I wonder if I would have felt this way if someone else had bought me. The idea of being owned seems to turn me on more. I don't know why I never considered it that way before I went on stage, but now it’s all I can think about. I’m his to do with as he pleases, and the thought makes me clench my jaw.
His eyes roam over my body, and my nipples respond to his stare. His look is hungry, and I suddenly feel like I’m being stalked. My reaction to him is unsettling because I don’t have any control over it. I must have starved my body of sexual attraction for too long and now it’s going crazy. It doesn't help that no one has ever looked at me the way he does. Seeing his reaction feels a little empowering.
I fight the urge to cover myself with my hands, knowing he’ll only make me remove them. He would give me an order that I would instantly follow, and then wonder why it turned me on. I’m quicker to jump to his commands, and this makes me uncomfortable. I’ve always felt attraction to Charles, but now it seems my body is dying to get closer to him. It’s the exact opposite of what I was doing when I worked with him.
Pulling my eyes away from him, I try to stem these feelings rushing through my body. Just like everything else in the casino, reds and blacks cover the room. I now realize this is his place; it was right next to mine when I stayed here. We always seemed to be coming and going at the same time, but I’d never been inside his home. Seeing his bedroom somehow calms me instead of frightening me.
I examine the massive four-poster more closely, and I notice black cuffs hanging from each of the posts. Is this like his fuck pad or something? Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen him with a woman. He must bring them up here for whatever it is he does, but I'd never seen one slip out before. I wonder if he likes to dress them up too. I look up, seeing the mirror above the bed, and I want to roll my eyes. I guess he likes to watch himself fuck. I let the thought roll off me, and try to focus.
Having the angel wings back on makes me feel like an innocent trapped in the devil's lair. His sole mission is to corrupt me and bring me over to the dark side with him. Maybe it’s his kink. I hate that my body warms to the idea of all the dirty things he wants to do to corrupt me.
“Mr. Townsend, you can’t be so bad in bed that you have to restrain women to get them to stay.” I poke him because I need to get myself back on a level playing field. In the past if I landed a few jabs he would storm out of the office, so maybe I can get him to storm out of this love nest.
“With you I wasn’t sure. You seem to be good at giving me the slip. I have to make sure my property stays where it belongs.”
“Property?” I fire the word back at him with distaste, hoping that maybe that will make me hate the idea of being his property. All he does is smirk, like it's cute that I have a problem being owned. “I never gave you the ‘slip’,” I say, stressing the word to highlight its ridiculousness. “I did my thirty days and I left. Is that what this is all about? You think I shorted you a day?”