28 Days
3200 words
Jon hadn't felt so good in a long time. Vanessa had completed her 28 day test. She'd messed up once, when she smoked without permission, but her behavior had been flawless otherwise. She'd even begun to think she felt better since she'd surrendered her freedom of choice to Jon.
It was still true that the only reason Vanessa was submitting to Jon was fear of prison. She knew he'd send her away if she didn't do everything he demanded. But he'd never told her to do anything that wasn't in her best interest, and she had to admit his judgment was better than hers.
His insistence on daily workouts had her in the best shape of her life. Four weeks of forced sobriety meant she didn't crave alcohol every day. She still had urges to smoke, but the urges weren't so powerful, and she could tell it was good for her health. Mandatory meetings with a therapist was a good idea.
Mainly, she was glad to know that she was acting like a woman who deserved to be Jon's lover. She'd felt like an imposter for so long that she hadn't realized how good it would feel to give up her life of lies. Being a sex slave wasn't as bad as being an inmate.
As always, she was dressed in sexy lingerie when he walked in the door. "I hope you had a good day, lover," she said. "I am going to make sure you have a good night."
Jon smiled at her. He'd begun to believe she might not be manipulating him anymore. "I have some surprises for you," he said.
He pulled out a brown envelope and removed a sheaf of papers. "This is the eviction notice that says you have to move out today," he said. Jon ripped the notice in half. "You can forget about being evicted."
Vanessa was so touched she began to cry. "Thank you," she said. "That is such a relief."
"Come with me. I want to show you something."
Jon had driven a dark blue pickup and parked in the garage. "Here are the keys," he said. "You have wheels again."
There was nothing fancy about the truck. Vanessa could tell it was getting old. There was a dent in the left rear fender. It was smaller than most of the trucks on the road. Still, she'd gone four weeks without transportation. She'd never driven a truck, but she realized this was a blessing.
"I'm sure you'd rather drive one of my sports cars," Jon said. "But you know I was concerned that you were driving recklessly when you had the Porsche. You'll be safer in this truck. I want you to practice driving cautiously. If you can learn to do that, we can talk about giving you something sportier."
"I will, baby," Vanessa said. "It will be nice being able to drive again."
"I hope so. I should warn you that the stereo doesn't work. But this truck is reliable. It won't break down on you."
Vanessa had expected that Jon would want to have sex as soon as they went back inside. She was mistaken. He had another surprise.
"Would you like a cocktail?" he asked.
Oh God. Did she ever! "Yes, please," she said.
Jon removed a small bottle of expensive vodka from his jacket pocket and used soda from the refrigerator as a mixer. By adding a couple of ice cubes, he produced a very nice beverage they could use to toast the end of her four weeks of bowing to his will. She was still a virtual slave, but at least she wasn't in imminent danger of being evicted and arrested.
"Taste good?" he asked.
"Very," she said.
"I would like it understood that you are never to drink before 5 p.m., and you are never to drink alone. Can you agree to that?" Jon said.
"Of course, Jon. I'll be more careful in the future."
They sat next to each other on the sofa. Both of them were glad that the 28 days had passed with only one major incident. Vanessa remembered how much it hurt when Jon used his belt to whip her ass; she'd do her best to avoid a repeat of that.
She felt the effect of the drink before she'd finished half of it. Cutting out alcohol seemed to make it work better.
"How are things going with your therapist?" Jon asked.
"Slow. He wants to talk about everything that has ever happened to me, including all kinds of things that I don't think are important. But I'm doing it. He's the professional. I'll talk about whatever he wants."
"Has he offered any judgments at all?" Jon asked.
"He has said that it's obvious that I'm pretty smart, but that my intelligence doesn't seem to stop me from doing stupid, risky things. That does not seem to be a very startling insight, frankly. I've known that for my whole life."
Talking about her therapist made Vanessa look defeated. "Don't worry about it, babe," Jon said. "Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. There's no hurry. You'll get there."
"I hope so," she said.