Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Now what?
As the rainy afternoon slowly morphed into a rainy evening, I became restless and impatient for something to happen.
After my fit earlier, River and Reese had agreed to play with me. For having pushed me so far, they didn’t seem very excited about my consent to let them go nuts. It was what they wanted, for chrissakes. But either way, we’d gone through my limits, experiences, and fantasies properly—from degradation and humiliation to heavy pain and kinks like rapeplay, mental torture, and interrogation—and I’d sworn up and down to be honest and use my safeword if I needed it. Then, nothing. River had walked off to “check shit out,” whatever that meant, and Reese had announced he had some work to do inside the main house.
I’d been told I would know the moment the play began.
Given that I was currently alone in their cabin watching TV, that moment wasn’t now.
I didn’t know what to do. I’d showered, I’d tidied up in the bedroom, the kitchen area, and out by the pool; I’d checked in with my brothers and Aunt Mel, and I had rejected every movie on Netflix. I’d mulled over sending Isela a message but had second thoughts. Being online didn’t appeal to me.
“Enough of this bullshit.” I’d caught myself tapping my feet restlessly one time too many by now, and I was done. Knowing where River kept his smokes in the kitchen, I left the couch and aimed for the lower cupboard next to the fridge. I’d repay him later. Or them both; I’d eaten and lived off of the twins for almost three days now. Maybe they could let me borrow a car and pick up groceries in town.
It wasn’t too late, and I was getting hungry. I could buy us dinner.
I didn’t wanna owe them anything.
As I stood outside on the little porch and smoked a cigarette, I kept an eye on the house for any sign of life. I’d only seen a single couple—albeit briefly—since around noon. Everyone else had left, and it made the house look bigger. Almost too big. I bet they’d had the place painted black for a reason. It reminded me of a stereotypical haunted house. Sitting up on a hill and all.
I glanced up at the darkening sky as a couple raindrops hit my cheek. The clouds above us were less angry now, but the ones looming farther away that were on their way here were practically black.
“Shay!”
I looked over at the house as River stepped out on the deck.
Huh. And it was River. I knew it instantly, without first checking for a neck tattoo of a longhorn skull half buried underneath a pile of wilted rose petals and thorns.
“Light one up for me too,” he said.
He’d been doing some manual labor. How advanced was this scene going to be? I thought the masochist was the one who would sweat and look all flushed.
“You don’t happen to have a gym in that house, do you?” I lit up the smoke and handed it over when he’d reached the porch.
He let out a chuckle but said nothing else on the matter. “You hungry? Reese is making meatloaf.”
I lifted my brows. Oh. So they had a…well, I mean, I guess it made sense that they’d have a kitchen at the main house… “Why’s he cooking up there?”
River exhaled some smoke and lifted a shoulder. “Closer to the office. Bigger kitchen too.”
“Oh.” I looked up at the house again and grew curious about this place as a business. To most of us, it was a community with a membership fee we paid every month—or annually for those who could afford it—but to these two men, it was their livelihood.
If I remembered correctly, there were three tiers. Basic, which was free, that only gave a kinkster access to join the munches. Then there was Visitor, the most common tier, the one I had, which made you automatically invited to most parties out here; you were allowed to spend three nights a month in a guest room, and you got, like, discounts to attend demos and whatnot. It was fifty bucks a month. Lastly, the Resident level. I’d forgotten how many nights they were allowed to stay for, but it cost you a hundred bucks every month, though it came with some sweet perks. There was a Resident group in our online community, and I’d seen pictures of goodie bags filled with sex toys and pain implements from samples that vendors sent to River and Reese.
Ivy had once sorted through an entire closet of free stuff they’d been given and packed it all into bags to hand out.
There was another group in the online forum for those who “worked” here. From dungeon monitors and founding members to Little helpers and those who identified themselves as domestic slaves. People volunteered to keep the place running, to clean, to organize events, to build new contraptions, to host sales parties for BDSM vendors, in order to get perks and reduced membership fees. I’d briefly considered it when I first became a member, but in the end, I’d chickened out of contacting them via the form and I’d just paid the fee instead.