Note: Coercion is wrong in reality, and if you uncomfortable reading about it, please skip this story.
Chapter 1
Introduction
Dear Izzy,
You did a tremendous job on week one. We were all thrilled with your performances. The place has never been cleaner, and we never had better dinners.
We have been pleasantly surprised with how you took to the other sections of the chore list. Your hair is sexy, your voice is fantastic, and we were very impressed with your outfits. We won't even mention how much we appreciated the other chores you did.
However, you are staying here for free. We are feeding you, and as you noticed, we are spending a good amount on you to help you complete these chores. The rules have been modified for week 2, as we think we took it a little too easy on you.
We can't wait to see how you handle it.
Yours truly,
Your Roommates
I stared at the note in disbelief. Seriously? They thought that was easy. After the initial shock wore off, I couldn't help but get annoyed. I knew I'd worked my ass off in week one, juggling their ridiculous chores and even agreeing to some seriously fucked up stuff. At least the roommates seemed pleased with my efforts, and I still have a home.
As I scanned through the chore list for week two, it was clear they weren't about to cut me any slack. Section A, the cleaning crap, mainly was the same, but they'd slashed the total points down. Great! Fewer points for the same amount of work. I rolled my eyes; they wanted to shift me into the other sections even more.
Section B had gotten a makeover itself. They'd removed the hair dyeing, which made sense, considering I'd already turned myself blonde. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, running my fingers through my now slutty blonde hair. I had to admit, it was kind of sexy, in a sort of trashy way. It was almost like it wasn't me in that mirror; it was like my sluttier twin sister.
Looking closer, I had to wear their approved outfits daily to earn points. Gone were the partial points for individual days. Plus, they added some seriously absurd things like lip fillers to the list because that's exactly what I've always wanted: dick-sucking lips.
Then came the kicker. The training videos I'd reluctantly watched were now only worth 1 lousy point if I watched them, but I'd lose 2 points if I skipped a day. Seriously, negative points now?
Finally, I reached Section C. Massages were out, and massages with happy endings were in. As I read the words, I felt my embarrassment rise. Massages were easy points, and sure, I did the happy ending last time, but I was just caught up in the moment, you know?
What became clear from these changes was that my roommates were paying attention and trying to edge me toward the chores they wanted me to do to mold me into their ideal model roommate.
With a deep breath, I stood up and grabbed the chore list. It was time to roll up my sleeves and get to work. They wanted to see how I'd handle it. Fine. I'd show them that I could more than take it. I wouldn't just become their plaything. I would stay the same, Izzy, no matter what chores I had to do.
Lying in bed, I couldn't help but weigh my options. Jason's offer of a potential job at his office felt like a glimmer of hope, a way out of this bizarre circus. But then there was the memory of my old boss, David Montgomery, at the restaurant, who'd made it clear I'd never waitress in this town again.
As anxiety gnawed at me, I wondered how I'd survive this week with all the new challenges and my uncertain future. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted to sleep, dreading whatever the hell the next week would bring.
Chapter 2
Monday [0 pts]
This morning, to my surprise, I found myself awake and ready to face the day earlier than usual. Maybe there was some subconscious drive there, trying to get a start on this new week. With a determined sigh, I hopped out of bed, headed straight to the shower, and got myself clean and ready for the day. Doing makeup had joined my regiment. Even though it wasn't technically a chore, it felt right if I was dressed on display the way I am.
As I styled my hair, I stared at the chore list, mentally bracing myself. The rule changes kept echoing in my mind. If I wanted the 14 points for having my outfits approved, I had to start that first thing. I needed to know who was in charge of approving my clothes this week.
Tightly clutching the towel around me, I swung open my bedroom door and peered into the hallway. And there, standing with that signature cocky grin, was Braden. Figures, he'd be the one. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling more self-conscious in my towel-clad state than when I was completely naked.
"Morning," I managed to greet, my voice coming out in that high-pitched way that I still couldn't get used to.
"Morning, Izzy," he replied, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "Ready for a new week?"
I glared at him, my lips twisting into a pout that probably only added to my image. "Like, totally ready, duh! So, who's, like, gonna be the fashion police this week?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant even as the words came out in that ridiculous voice.
"That would be me, babe. I've got your wardrobe for the week right here."
I arched an eyebrow, mentally rolling my eyes at the term babe. "And, like, what's the deal?"
His grin widened, and he leaned against the doorframe. "I've given you enough clothes for the week. Wear whatever you want, but only from these. No repeats, though; we wouldn't want to get bored."
Bored, what a jerk. I sighed in defeat, realizing that arguing would get me nowhere. "Sure, like, hand it over, please!" I said, stepping out of my room and extending my hand.