Author's Notes: I hope you all enjoy this latest story I woke up with on my mind recently. I hope you start to fall in love with Olivia and Owen like I am. If you enjoy this story, please rate and/or leave a comment (I am a whore for your comments.) and I will publish the second chapter. I've got quite a few chapters down but want to see how people like this first chapter. Seriously, I am an actual comment slut, so don't be afraid all you anon's. 😉
Owen
I sat on my usual stool at the bar, sipping a strong gin and tonic. Surveying my surroundings, I took a deep draw of breath. Collared subs in between the legs of their doms and masters. A purple and red studded collar flashed through my mind, dissipating just as quickly with the whirlwind of long red curls brushing my shoulder. Leanne sat next to me, smiling her pretty white smile and scrunching up her freckled button nose. She was a previous sub of mine, another I had let go, but she stuck around. She was stubborn, strong-willed, and relishing in her newfound happiness.
It was difficult to let such a gem go, but she hated pain, and I couldn't go on with someone who despised my forte. This led to my loneliness, but also my success. The club we were sitting in was high-end. An underground kind of bar but not so much for the elite. It was invite-only and many of the members were close friends of mine. Relationships that had blossomed and solidified throughout the lonely years.
Leanne called over Stephen, the daytime bartender, and ordered a sex on the beach drink, fruity, like her. She smelled of tangerines and flowers. The same scent I used to inhale while looming over her. Now it stirred nothing but a flashback here and there. Once she was served, she finally burst. My silence too much for her to bear.
"I didn't know you were in town. You could have called, you know." She faked a pouty face and I smirked. I hated when she did that, manipulation was not my forte.
"I wasn't going to, but Kat called. Our hostess quit in the middle of her shift." I sighed heavily, wondering how in the world I'd replace Jessica. She was the star of the club, she danced on weekends and hostessed on weekdays. She was gorgeous and several of the members loved to see and chat with her. A blonde bombshell that would be impossible to replace.
"My God, I know. I was here actually. It was a disaster. She was fine one second and gone the next. Not before letting the entire club know too." Leanne shook her head and her red curls bounced. I looked at her and couldn't help but feel endeared by the fact of her happiness. I knew Andrew would be a good fit for her, and I was right. She now wore his permanent collar and never stopped smiling.
"So, been on any dates lately, old man?" Leanne bumped her shoulder up to mine, waggling her red-tinted brows.
"And that would be your business, why?" I sipped my drink liberally, not in any mood for that conversation. She was constantly trying to return the favor and help me find my perfect sub. I had explained her in detail, the face I envisioned in my head every day for the past twenty years. So, she looked for girls and would push them my way, but I always hurt their feelings and turned them down. Half the time, I wondered if maybe I'd missed her or something. Maybe I turned her down one of those times and it was really her. I'd never know. I just resigned to my loneliness and worked hard, trying to keep busy. But that never helped at night when I lay in bed and closed my eyes. She would haunt me. My dreams.
A tiny thing with blonde hair and dark eyes. So dark, they were almost black. But they sparkled with a hint of mischievousness and mystery. I only ever saw her face, but it was enough to drive a man insane over time. Leanne had sent me a picture of a stunning blonde about a week or so prior, and I again rejected her. She was perfect in every sense. But she was tall, I just somehow knew she had to be small. There was always one little thing off no matter how perfect they were.
Stephen finished serving some members and came over to get in on the gossip. "I cannot believe Jessica. How are we going to replace her?" He whined. He was gayer than a fruit fly and flaunted it. "She was like my bestie," he pouted.
"Looks like we'll have to do a slew of interviews and just try to find the right fit." Leanne excitedly babbled. She had been there when I opened the club and helped with the enormous hiring process. She loved to interview.
"Put out an ad, Leanne, and we'll see who we get. Make interviews for this upcoming Thursday. I'll stay in town a bit longer to get this sorted."
I stood and stretched my arms over my head, yawning loudly. I looked around one last time, watching a very young sub crawling on all fours to her dom. He held a thin silver leash in his hand, drawing her to him. They were likely about to perform a scene upstairs. The club relaxed me but made me all the lonelier. I missed the days I too held a thin silver leash in my hand and drew a sexy little vixen to my lap.
What's wrong with me?
"Board meeting with officials on Tuesday for The West House. Leanne, Kat, and Andrew will attend with me," I announced. Leanne nodded, getting up to deliver the message to Kat and Andrew, who was in Berlin for business. The three of them had been with me from the start of the club and The West House. My other ventures were started and completed by me, alone. I owned several hotels within the state of Ohio, as well as upstate New York and San Diego, California. I was busy, always traveling. I had homes in Ohio and New York. The more lavish of the two resided in New York, where I spent most of my time.
I was walking through the doors when Leanne stopped me. "I forgot to tell you that West House has received twenty-six intakes in the last two weeks alone."
My brows furrowed. "And you're just now telling me this?" Looks like I wouldn't be going home after all. I hardly spent time at either of my homes these days. She squeaked an apology and gave me an adoring smile. I rolled my eyes, turning on my heel to leave for The West House instead of home.
I drove leisurely, taking my time. I listened to some old Fleetwood Mac, reminiscing on the past. That purple and red studded collar flashed through my mind again and I sighed, turning up the music. I missed her curves and the way she said my name.
I pulled into the parking lot of West House and got out, trudging to the door through the rain that came out of nowhere. The building was large and not the best looking on the outside, but beautiful on the inside. It was used as a church long ago. I walked through the front entrance, where the entire downstairs had been redesigned into living rooms, a kitchen, and a few bedrooms. The front living room was full of people, including Kat. It made more sense that she wasn't at the club at that moment. There were several unknown faces, she was tending to them all at once. She looked frantic when she met my eyes.
"Thank God you're here. We've had twenty-eight intakes, half of which I can't get a word out of." She took a deep breath, wiping sweat from her brow.
I looked at the dirty faces sitting all around the living room. Some were rolled into balls, rocking back and forth. Some were crying uncontrollably. The West House was a good idea from the start, virtuous and all. But sometimes it was challenging, and we got too full. I hated to turn any girl away, so I made accommodations, sometimes hotel rooms.
"This many, just in two weeks?"
"Two more just walked in an hour ago. I'm trying to get rooms ready, but we're running out of space and beds."
"How many rooms do you need? I can make arrangements."
"I need at least eight rooms for the night. In the next couple of days, I can clear out more space upstairs, then they can come back here. Help me decide who's okay enough to go tonight?" She smiled painfully, knowing this was the hardest part of the job. Any non-profit organization suffers from time to time. Money wasn't the issue; it was the girls we took in. We took in battered women, drug addicts, homeless teens, and anyone we could really. But some of the girls were so damaged, that they couldn't even speak properly. Some just refused. Some were reverted to childlike behavior and needed a ton of therapy. So, picking which girls to go to the hotel became difficult when deciding because if I chose the wrong one, it could damage her more being alone. There had been times when girls would flee the hotel and end up right back on the street because being alone in a hotel room was somehow worse.
"Give me a few minutes. Call Belmont and arrange eight rooms." She nodded and flitted through the hallway and out of the living room, probably relieved.
Olivia
I was sweating profusely, straining my neck to see if he was coming back yet. Please. Come back. Please. I cried softly, running out of tears. My arms and legs ached, my back on fire from the whip. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out. More pain. I hung my head in defeat and whimpered.
Footsteps made me snap my head up, causing more throbbing in my temples. He was coming back to let me out. Please let me out. He was holding my phone in his hand, waving it in my face, and tsking.
"You tried to leave little one. What's our first rule, hmm?" He placed his hand around my throat and squeezed lightly. I swallowed hard, my mouth like sandpaper.
"No leaving." I managed to croak out.
"Good girl."
Thwack
. The belt striped across my chest, caressing my ribcage momentarily before falling limp to the floor.
"Red. Red," I murmured my safe word over and over, hoping for some mercy.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
I cried out on the last hit, my belly burning and tingling with the force of the belt. I closed my eyes against the pain, gritting my teeth.
