Page 15 of Doctor's Demands
Petra Bakari is mine!
As I leave, I see the men who were making my life miserable have all moved on to the next woman. Thank God I made the highest bid. Petra will be one happy woman when she gets her reward for being my bottom. If she does the right thing with it, she’ll be wealthy the rest of her life. She’ll never have to do this again if she doesn’t want to.
Tossing the drink down my throat, I go to find one of the staff to ready my new bottom for me. I find a young woman who might help Petra feel calmer and ask, “Do you think you can do something for me?”
“Anything,” she says, with the helpful tone all the staff seems to have.
Taking her by the arm, I lead her to the apartment Petra was taken to. “I think that you might be a better person to get my new bottom ready for me. She looked a little nervous and I don’t want her to be afraid. But I’m not going to talk to her that much.” I pull the letter I’ve written to her out of my pocket and put it into the girl’s hand. “Give her this and let her read it. It’ll help her understand what I’m going to do with her. After she reads it, give her a drink if she wants one. Only one, though. I don’t like lushes. Then I want her arms bound with the monoglove I laid out on the bed. Her ankles need to be cuffed to the hooks in the floor and she should be in a sitting position. And just before you leave her, put the blindfold I’ve also laid out on her. Then tell her I’ll be there whenever I get ready.”
“Okay,” she says as we get to the door to the apartment. “Oh! Should I have her dressed in anything special?”
“There’s a robe on the bed. I want her in that and nothing else.”
With a nod, she goes inside and I head to the bar to get a drink. I need to calm the fuck down and get my head on straight. This woman is rattling me more than I like.
Taking a seat next to a man with salt-and-pepper-colored hair, I give him a nod in greeting and order a Scotch neat. Taking the drink, I don’t chug it the way I want to. Instead, I take a sip and sit back.
“Did you gain a bottom in that auction they had tonight?” the guy asks me.
“I did,” I tell him and decide to be a bit friendlier. “I’m Owen.”
“Nice to meet you, Owen. I’m Grant.” He nods back at me as he lifts his glass to his lips.
“I didn’t see you in there,” I say as I look at him. “No contract for you?”
With a shake of his head, he says, “I’m not into anything permanent right now.”
“Oh, neither am I. I mean, I’m not looking for a relationship.” I take another sip and watch him grin.
“If you were, this would be the wrong place for you.” He chuckles a little. “Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I have known of love blossoming within these dark walls. Not a lot, but it has happened on occasion. The Dungeon of Decorum isn’t a place one comes to when searching for love, but it can spring up between people every now and then.”
“I’m not worried about that happening. My bottom will never even see me or touch me. I make sure of that. I’m keeping her here and she’ll stay right where I put her until the end of summer.”
Grant laughs and looks me over. “Wow, that’s kind of drastic. Do women fall for you easily? Is that why you have to go to all this trouble?”
“It might be hard to believe, but this face, body, my bank account, and my celebrity status makes me kind of easy to fall for. But I don’t want any woman who’d only fall for those parts of me. If I could find a woman to love me for me, then I might give her half a chance. But then again, I might not. My parents have kind of sullied my ideas about relationships.”
“Ah, they made it look like a fiasco instead of the bliss we’re all told of?” he asks as he looks at me over his glass.
“A psychotic fiasco with five little pawns they created to use against each other. I’ve often thought they had us only for the purpose of gaining troosps behind each of them. Unfortunately for them, we all dropped out of their individual armies. But it hasn’t stopped their battles. You’d think their divorce would’ve ended their feud over who did who more wrong in their marriage, but no such luck.”
“Why don’t they just leave each other alone?” Grant asks me, like I have a fucking clue.
“That’s something none of us can figure out. Our father moved out of the house when he filed for divorce. He left mom the house and all five kids to take care of,” I tell him as I think about my horrible past. “Mom wasn’t about to be stuck with us while dad lived the life of a childless bachelor. So, she sold the house and bought one right across the street from the house my father had bought.”
“She sure showed him,” Grant says with a smirk.
“Yeah, and then the real wars began as they pushed us all back and forth. Then that switched to pulling us back and forth. A real cluster fuck of shit went on. One by one, my siblings and I left them alone to deal with each other.”
“A loving family can really screw up one’s head,” he comments, then places his empty glass on the bar. “Another, please. I have a father who’s a real winner. My mother is in the local cemetery and dad’s still walking around a free man.”
Nearly choking on the drink, I just took, I gasp, “He killed her?”
“A story for another time, Owen,” he says with a frown. “Shouldn’t you be getting to your new purchase?”
“Um, yeah. I should. See you around, Grant. It was nice to meet you.”
As I walk away, I look over my shoulder and see the man slumping in his chair. I feel badly for dredging up memories I’m sure he tries to forget exists.
