Seductive Shadows (7 page)

They were beautiful.

Dampness formed between my legs.

“Do you like what you see?” Victoria asked. Fishnet stockings crept up her thighs, held by a garter belt. Her red satin corset was rimmed in lace and beads, and lace boy shorts hugged her body. A matching mask hid all but her eyes. I craved to learn her appeal.

I nodded. “Very much so.” It wasn’t something I could hide.

Her black sparkly lids disappeared as we made eye contact again. “I thought you would.” She took a seat behind the desk. When her red acrylic nails reached inside a drawer, the monitors turned black. “Now that I’ve given you a small sample, you have an idea of what goes on here. What makes us different from other establishments of similar…
service
, shall we say…is our exclusivity. Not just anyone can enter our doors; we’ve been in business for over fifty years, and our clients are the most influential, prestigious members of New England’s society. There’s a five-year waiting list, and acceptance is by invitation only. Our roster of members guarantees the confidentiality of the mansion and its workers.”

I thought back to the previous night when I had held Lilly’s bills in my hand and believed the job had something to do with painting. It was what I had wanted to believe, but a part of me had known the truth. I still had to ask my questions.

“Would I live here?”

Her long black hair fell to her breasts when she shook her head. “No, but it will feel like home, and we’ll take care of you just like you’re family.” She paused. “That means I would constantly be monitoring your privacy and security and, because of that, I wouldn’t allow our clients to remove your mask, or theirs. You will also be escorted by limo to and from the mansion every evening.”

“Every night?”

“Three nights a week, and only three weeks a month. Based on your cycle, you will get a whole week off, but we’ll compensate you during that time as well. Your shift will last six hours; one will be spent getting ready, and the remaining will be spent with your client.”

I glanced over to the closet and the items that filled each rack. The few costumes I had were tattered from the washing machine, and I didn’t own enough hair products or makeup to spend that long getting ready.

“We supply everything,” she said, as though she were reading my mind. “Clothes, shoes, jewelry, food…condoms, so you’re always protected…and whatever else you’ll need when you’re inside here. You’re not allowed to bring anything into the mansion, or to take anything out.” She reached into the desk, and one of the TV screens flipped on. It showed me changing in the backseat of the limo. “We watch
every
move, so I have complete confidence in your safety.”

The note that was left for me on top of the box said I’d have privacy from the driver, but it didn’t say I’d have it from anyone else. Most people would have felt violated that a stranger had watched them undress. I was turned on.

“Are there any other rules I should know about?”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “We care about you, Charlie, and the way you take care of yourself…we wouldn’t want you to jeopardize your abilities, your health, or do anything that would scar or harm your body. Besides the heart and the date, no more tattoos.” She grinned as though she were proud of her clairvoyant ways. “When making or receiving any calls or texts—for business or personal—we ask that you always use the cell phone that we provide. This is for your protection as much as it is for ours. The only other requirement is that you must
never
discuss the mansion or what you do here with anyone. Ever.”

It seemed harsh. But I understood.

“What if I decide I’ve had enough, and I don’t want to work here anymore?”

“You can stop working here any time you choose to…but you won’t. One of the reasons we chose you, Charlie, is because sex isn’t emotional for you. You’re going to be worshipped and cared for. You won’t want to leave. Trust me.”

I wasn’t surprised that she knew about my tattoos, despite how small they were, and how they were almost always hidden by a ring or closed fist. And she could have easily found out about Dallas or any of the other people I had slept with. But how did she know my desires…things that didn’t show on my face because I wouldn’t allow them to?

“The clients are going to be so captivated by you. They’ll lavish you with gifts and tips and bonuses, and I promise you’ll be completely safe every minute that you’re in here. I take care of my girls, Charlie, and I personally watch all the TV monitors. But I’m not here only for your protection and care; I’m here for
you
, to become the family you don’t have, and for you to become something of a protégée.” She stopped and leaned across the desk. “The nights that you’re here, you’ll get to leave poor Charlie and her drunk mom behind, and you’ll turn into a beautiful, desired woman for the evening.”

This stunning, powerful woman wanted to protect me? She believed in my abilities and wanted to become my family? I wasn’t sure I could trust this.

“How much would you pay me?”

She smiled. “Two thousand a week. If we like your work, that number will double.”

The Recruiter had been right. That was more than I made in a month.

I looked around the room again, at the lace and satin in her closet that would cling to my body every night, at the flickering candles that would cast their glow across my skin, at the televisions on her back wall that would show every stroke of penetration. Did I really belong here?

“When you put on that dress inside the limo, you felt powerful, didn’t you? You were seduced by its luxury, and the thought of becoming Cee.” She stopped and scanned my eyes, then my face. “When you become
her
, I’ll welcome her like a daughter.”

Whenever I walked through Emma’s front door, I left my life in her driveway. I didn’t think about the liquor that turned Lilly into a monster…or the collectors who called non-stop, or the showers I had to take in the girls’ locker room at school because we didn’t have hot water, or how I shivered at night from not having heat. Or the men Lilly had chosen over me. Victoria was offering exactly what the Hunt’s had: a place where I would be taken care of, dressed and fed, and where I could live out a fantasy. I could leave Charlie in the limo. And when I stepped inside the mansion, I could become Cee.

“Would I ever be asked to do something that I didn’t want to do?” My eyes drifted to the handcuffs. “Would the men be allowed to hurt me?”

“No one hurts my girls.” Her voice rose with each word, but her tone wasn’t angry. It was protective. “What you do within these walls is your decision—not your client’s, and not mine.”

I closed my eyes just briefly, and then opened them again and smiled. “When can I start?”

Victoria reached inside her desk drawer. The wall to my left began to move as a pocket door slowly slid open. A woman walked in, her honey colored hair bouncing as she moved closer. Her chin was sharp and defined; her beautiful, all-knowing eyes stared back at me. But the characteristic that stood out the most was the seam that ran down the middle of her bottom lip. It was the Recruiter.

Finally
.

The long wrinkle in her lip deepened when she said, “You’ll start tomorrow, assuming you pass tonight’s test.”

“A test?” I asked.

She was dressed in a light pink lace bra with a matching thong and mask. Her body was slender but toned, her skin a golden bronze. Her mouth had mesmerized me last night, but tonight it was her breasts. She moved behind me, pressing her lower stomach into my neck. Then her hands landed on my shoulders, gently rubbing my muscles, the pads of her fingers tracing the straps on my dress. “Let’s call it an
audition
instead.” Her nails ran over my chest.

I had only ever been with two women: one was a nurse who worked at my doctor’s office, and the other was a cashier at the grocery store near my house. I’d had sex with each of them more than once. The taste of a woman, the softness of their skin and the way my tongue could dip around their curves were things I craved on occasion. Men would always be my first choice, but women understood my body; they knew how each of my spots wanted to be touched…and licked.

“Can you be one of us, Cee?” the Recruiter whispered in my ear, her lips lingering just above my lobe. The air she exhaled smelled of perfume: a crisp apple, a fresh white rose, and the musk from amber. It tickled the side of my face and fluttered down toward my breasts, warming the dress against my bare skin.

Her movements were confident, but there was tenderness in the way she stroked my flesh. Her teasing was soft and sensual; the tiny moans that came from her mouth were barely audible, yet they reached me. I wanted her to be rougher, for her teeth to pierce my nipple and her nails to drag up my legs.

Victoria stayed behind her desk, but I felt the intensity from her stare. Her eyes would always be on me if I worked here. The thought excited me; I wanted my monitor to be the one she watched the most. She appeared to hold so much control, and it could possibly be a challenge to impress her. But I wanted to try. I wanted to show her how many times my body could climax.

The Recruiter slowly moved in front of me, straddling her legs over my lap, her hands lightly resting on my shoulders. Every few seconds her fingers danced down my arms. As her neck turned, her locks fell onto my chest, dipping into the top of my dress, caressing the patch of skin between my breasts. My head tilted back from the sensation; my mouth opened. And when I finally looked up, her lips hovered just inches above mine.

My thighs parted from the build up of anticipation and from the way her tongue licked my neck. Her movements had turned hungry; she was feral in her need, and so was I. Her hot breath whispered promises that my body craved to accept. She finally gave me her mouth, but pulled away after only a few seconds. She took my lip with her, holding it between her teeth, and then dropped it.

“You haven’t answered me,” she said, though she placed her finger on my lips to keep my mouth from opening. “And I don’t want you to just yet.” Her hand grasped mine, and she pulled me to my feet.

The string of her thong buried even farther between her cheeks as she walked and kneeled on Victoria’s bed. Once she reached the pillows, she turned, and motioned for me to join her. The ceiling above my mattress at home—what I stared at when I masturbated—wasn’t nearly as sexy as the chains and cuffs that were above Victoria’s. And my fingers weren’t foreign like the Recruiter’s would be. But she only teased the top of my thighs before she stopped and turned toward the nightstand.

Victoria had moved to the foot of the bed; a man stood next to her. I never heard him enter the room, but one of his hands gripped the right poster, while the other fondled Victoria’s waist. Her posture had softened.

The Recruiter removed several toys from the nightstand; their vibrant colors flashed across my body, but I never looked down as she placed them at my side. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She slid her tongue over the outer edge of her lips, and my back arched. It was as though she were licking my clit. And when her fingers glided down her chest, pausing at her nipples, pulling them with the lace from her bra, I moaned.

“Answer me.”

I could barely find my voice. “Yes,” I stuttered, “I want to be one of you.”

“Tell me, then.” She circled her hand around my pointer and middle finger and brought them up to her mouth. “Tell me you want to fuck me with these, like you fucked yourself in the bathroom last night.”

My wetness had seeped through the satin dress, and I could feel it when I wiggled on top of the bed. My body was begging for her; my clit craved a release. My breath came in small bursts, and my chest heaved as I gasped for more air.

“Or better yet,” she said, “show me.”

There weren’t any clocks in the basement, but I knew we were in the early hours of morning when Victoria finally signaled us to stop. The Recruiter’s lips softly pressed against mine. Then she grabbed the man’s hand, and they disappeared behind the pocket door. When Victoria went to her desk to make a phone call, I slid the dress over my head and slipped my feet back into the heels. I didn’t need her to tell me that I had passed the audition. Maybe it was arrogance or some preternatural sense of right, but somehow I just knew.

And I was sure of it once she led me to the doctor’s room.

Outfitted like any other physician’s office with an exam table, stirrups, and canisters of alcohol swabs and tongue depressors, the room was a short elevator ride from the basement. Victoria told me that once a month I would be summoned here for a blood test, pap smear, and physical. There would be no exceptions made. The health of her girls was a top priority to her. The doctor, outfitted in a white eye mask that matched his jacket and black latex gloves, entered from a side door. As if taking her cue to leave, Victoria exited the same way.

Then, the doctor’s questions began. I gave him Lilly’s medical history—the only family I knew of—and past procedures that I’d had. The doctor glanced between a tablet and me. I got the feeling I was just confirming everything that was already on the screen.

He had a professional demeanor with a frosty edge; his mannerisms told me he expected obedience, and that’s exactly what I gave him. I placed my feet in the stirrups and leaned back on the table as he began the breast and internal exam. His warm touch surprised me, but after an evening of penetration I appreciated it even more. He scanned my skin, covering both sides of my body, swabbed my mouth, and drew my blood. Then he explained his rules: I was to call him Doctor and contact him for all of my medical needs—trivial or serious. He wanted to know what ailed me, and he would be my primary physician for as long as I worked at the mansion. I was no longer allowed to receive any outside care.

As the Doctor departed through the side door, Victoria entered and escorted me outside to where the limo was waiting. She handed me a cell phone; I was to have it on me at all times and was expected to answer if it ever rang. She said the location of the pick-up spot would be sent by text message, since it would change every day. But it would always be near a train station. I wasn’t ever allowed to be late. And for my protection, I wouldn’t be dropped off or picked up at my apartment. I actually preferred it that way. Since it wasn’t common for a limo to come into my neighborhood, it would prevent the other tenants from gossiping and keep Lilly from finding out. Not that Lilly would care at this point how I earned my money. But I didn’t want her questions. I didn’t owe her anything.