Author's Note: All characters are above the age of 18. I want to thank my wife for editing and my friend Ann for her encouragement.
Today was uneventful and rainy, just as Vince had said it would be. Thank God; I needed a boring day after all that had happened. It's therapeutic. However, it would be more therapeutic if I could speak with you, Dr. Bea. I just feel like you help me put things in perspective... like feeling guilty over enjoying a perfectly uneventful rainy day. What a stupid thing to feel guilty over - but here I am, wondering if I deserve it.
Sex yesterday was so intense that it left me in a subspace stupor, so Vince had me take it easy today. He touched, kissed, and held me, but nothing more than that. It's sweet how he worries about me, but at the same time, it leaves me hungry for him. The pain. The pleasure. The possessiveness of his arms around my body. The gravel in his voice. The scent of his sweat mixed with mine. I don't mean to be so poetic...I guess I'm still drunk off of those moments. Maybe a day away is a good thing; I wouldn't want to become stuck there.
Demi Tanzer was almost apologetic today during our design session. Almost. I get the feeling she's the type that never apologizes for anything that she meant in the heat of the moment, so that's really the best that I could hope for. She's a scary-intense individual - passionate beyond what is reasonable. However, we're working well together.
I suggest lace collars and cuffs; she counters with a white leather body harness with removable silk sheets that hang off the harness. I talk about lacy teddies worn underneath a dress, peeking out from the sides and around the chest. She quickly sketches a latex dress that would work with lace worn underneath - or with nothing underneath if the bride is daring enough. We're turning wedding dress design on its head, and the results are elegant, sexy, and surprisingly understated despite their radical nature. I can't help but think that somewhere, in all the designs we're discussing, we're designing my wedding dress... or collaring dress. Whichever comes first.
Vince told me he's helping clean up what's left of Dr. Krysolov's presence here in the states. So far, twenty-nine American women have been found and rescued from his operation. He tells me that barely scratches the surface. There may be hundreds of missing women found due to my experience. I find that gratifying.
What I stumbled on was a new angle to their operations. The idea of tricking women to prep themselves for brainwashing and willingly hand themselves over to their kidnappers is... dark. However, they've been operating for years before they implemented this new strategy. Many wealthy, powerful men will be caught up in this - both domestic and foreign. Vince also mumbled something about a movie star or singer. I'm honestly afraid to know who he could be referring to.
Vince said that he's working on a strategy to address my problems with daddy-dearest. When I asked him what exactly he was going to do, he just glared at me. I told him not to get into trouble, and he raised an eyebrow. I just hope that my former-hacker boyfriend knows what he's doing.
And, on top of all of this, the COVID pandemic is raging in the background. Hospitals are filling up, and half of the country doesn't believe it's a problem. Idiots. I can't turn on the TV without hearing about morgue trailers and the lack of testing kits. I hope you're okay, Dr. Bea; I've only seen you a handful of times, but talking to you has helped me. I miss you.
_____________
Vince sat back at his industrial black metal desk, surrounded by three back-lit high-end monitors. It looked more like a cockpit than a desk, with an integrated chair that included a split Dvorak keyboard and trackball mouse on armatures that could be swung out of the way when not needed.
Vince wore a pair of orange-tinted glasses, a button-down white shirt, and a straight black tie. The webcam pointed at him wouldn't catch the jeans he wore or bare feet. He was professional enough for anyone who might want to video chat from Teleigence without having to wear a full suit.
With a single keystroke, the image of Jeremiah Winther filled the central screen.
"Hi, dad!" Vince taunted.
"I'm not your uncle, and I'm most certainly not your dad. What is it you want, Vincent?" Jeremiah said.
"Seeing as I want to marry your daughter, I thought I'd try it out. You're right, Jerry - I don't respect you enough to call you dad," He snapped back.
"Did you just call me to insult me?"
"No - I wanted to talk to you about the conversation Mark had with Sephie. Hurling insults at you is just a bonus."
Jeremiah rolled his eyes. "I've talked to Mark about that conversation. It's a shame how twisted you have her. You can be sure that I'll pry her from your grasp."
"Oh? You talked. He didn't show you a video of exactly what was said?" Vince asked.
"No. Why would he have -"
"I have video," Vince interrupted Jeremiah.
He squinted at Vince and sneered. "Fine. Show me."
Vince hit a key, and a split-screen, displaying Persephone's and Marks webcam feeds side by side, started playing on his left-hand monitor. He muted the sound on his end but heard the discussion play out on Jeremiah's computer speakers. Vince watched as Jeremiah's eyes widened, and his expression changed from disgust to rage.
Both men sat through the video in silence. Once it ended, Jeremiah glared back at Vince and asked. "How do I know this video isn't one of those deep-fakes they're talking about these days?"
"I guess you don't. I'm not going to waste my time pointing out how hard it would be to fake a video like this. You're going to believe what you want to believe regardless of the facts." Vince said.
"Regardless of this... video, I still don't want you with my daughter. I can't imagine the perverted things you do to her," he sneered.
"You don't need to imagine - you can ask Sephie yourself. But I want the honors of telling you the most perverse thing I do to her. Want to know the most horrible, awful thing I do? It's letting her choose for herself," Vince said with a wicked smile.
"What do you mean, you let her choose for herself?"
"Before I first touched her, I gave Sephie a list of every kinky thing I could do to her; she noted which kinks she would never consent to and which she enthusiastically wanted to try. She has a safeword that she can use to make me stop everything. And after every time we have sex, we talk about the perverted things I did to her, so she can tell me what she did or didn't like," Vince explained.
"You're disgusting," Jeremiah spat.
"Would you like to hear the disgusting things Sephie said about what I did to her this past Tuesday?" he retorted.
"You probably treat her like a slave."
"I will admit that she washes me every morning after my workout - but that's something she wants to do. I cook her meals, clean the kitchen and do the laundry. Sephie takes care of the rest of the apartment. But if she ever wanted to be treated like a slave, I would be glad to do so - it just isn't one of her kinks," Vince said with a smile.
Jeremiah studied Vince and snorted. "I'll know soon enough if you're abusing her."
"Oh - are you talking about that private investigator you hired, Jerry? You should know that his wife almost caused Persephone a panic attack in the middle of the grocery store. Did you know he's done work for known criminal and domestic terrorist organizations? He's also been a person of interest in a string of murder investigations in another state. Did you check into his background before you hired this guy?"
Jeremiah blanched. "He came highly recommended by a friend that I trust."
"You really have to reexamine your friendships. That's okay, though - he and his wife won't be bothering either of us ever again. Before I called you, I hacked every computer he owns that connects to the internet and downloaded some very incriminating files from his computer. You put Sephie in danger by hiring him; let's just say I've removed the threat," Vince snarled.
"You've always been an arrogant little shit," Jeremiah spat back at him.
"And you're a sexist asshole, Jerry. You have very little respect for your own daughter's wishes or the opinions of your own wife. But if you ever want to meet your grandchildren, I suggest you start treating her like an adult and honoring her choices."
"And if she wanted to leave you, would you honor her choice?"
Vince smiled. "If it's truly her choice and not due to some bullshit ploy of yours? I'd let her go - but only after begging her to reconsider."
Jeremiah clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He hit a key, and the screen went blank.
"Well, goodbye to you too, Jerry," Vince said to the blank screen.
_____________
Persephone grunted as she did leg reps on Vince's home gym. She took off yesterday from working out, so she wanted to double her effort today. Sweat poured from her, covering her nearly naked body and dripping off of her. In between reps, she could hear Vince still talking. "What are you still doing in there?" she said under her breath. She did one last rep and then stood up.
She could still hear mumbling on the other side of the wall. All that stood between her and sex with her Master was that door, and yet she knew the rules: unless it was an emergency, she wasn't to open the door when he was working. He dealt with far too much sensitive data for her to be casually entering his office.
With a pout, she walked back into their bedroom. As she turned the corner to the bathroom, she stubbed her toe on the large leather trunk that Victor called his toy chest. Persephone cocked her head to the side and replayed in her mind all the times he had opened the chest. A wicked smile crossed her lips as she bent down and tried to find the mechanism to give her access to the toys.
She felt around the back of the truck and felt something odd. With a click, Vince's toy chest unlocked. She lifted the lid and gasped. A wave of regret overtook her as she realized that she just ruined several surprises that he was holding back.
"Too late now," she mumbled. Then an idea popped into her head. She took several different items from the trunk and threw them on the bed. "Friday night self-punishment," she said. Without a second thought, she stripped off her underwear and ran into the bathroom to shower off. Then she came back in and prepared herself for when Vince came walking through the bedroom door.
When he did come through the door, she noticed his eyes shift first to her, then to his open trunk. She nervously bounced, waiting for his reaction. "Bad Kitty, indeed," he frowned.
Persephone knelt in the center of the bed, wearing cat ears and a cat tail buttplug. She had written in lipstick on her stomach the words "Bad Kitty," above which a chain hung between two nipple clamps. A red ball gag was in her mouth, and a pair of handcuffs kept her arms behind her back. She made herself into a pretty package, ready for her due punishment.
"Tsk tsk tsk. Someone figured out how to open my trunk. Apparently, she felt so guilty about it that she tied herself up for my enjoyment," Vince shook his head.
