Vanessa
"Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do all day?" I ask, plopping down on the bed.
"He actually just sent a list." He shows me his phone screen:
-Make sure she eats three meals a day and takes her birth control every morning
-She's allowed anywhere in the house but my office
-Trixie will be over for her Brazilian wax at 2. She cannot opt out of it
-If she can't behave, lock her in the room. I will punish her when I return
My mouth hangs open as I read the list over again just to make sure I'm not imagining it. This can't be real. This can't be happening!
"He cannot be serious!" I exclaim aloud. My hands tremble as I scroll through the list again, the weight of each absurd demand sinking in. Birth control? Brazilian wax? Locking me up like some unruly child? The audacity of his control over every aspect of my life pisses me the fuck off. Maybe instead of trying to escape, I should just kill him and save the next woman this cruel fate!
Although I'm not hungry, Danny makes sure I eat some fruit and take the birth control pills. I don't know what the purpose of that is, since I'll never willingly have sex with Diego, but whatever. It is in the contract. As I mechanically chew on a piece of fruit, my mind wanders to the absurdity of the situation. The taste in my mouth is bitter, matching my emotions.
There's an entire home theatre downstairs, so I spend the rest of the morning watching Fruits Basket (the 2019 reboot). The vibrant animation and whimsical characters offer a temporary escape from my fucked up reality. Danny sits beside me on his phone the entire time, a constant reminder that even in this seemingly comforting activity, I'm still a prisoner.
I'm almost halfway through the first season when he shuts off the tv and rises from his seat. I begin to protest, but he says, "Let's go, Princesa. Time to wax that little pussy of yours."
Dread washes over me as I follow him into the front room, where a woman is all set up and waiting for me. Trixie, a beautiful woman in her mid-twenties with flawless blonde hair and a face adorned with makeup, stands tall with long, elegant legs that seem to go on forever, exuding the presence and allure of a supermodel.
I can't help but wonder what someone like her is doing here, working for a monster like Diego. She must be getting something significant out of it. Perhaps money or sex, with him.
I immediately push the thoughts aside. Who cares what they're doing, it's good he has someone to fuck that isn't me. Although an unknown emotion lingers in the back of my mind. I just can't identify it yet.
Trixie has me lie on the portable waxing table she brought. With my lower half exposed, I cautiously watch as she warms up the wax. Danny sits in a nearby chair, his eyes on me like a hawk. He seems to be taking his babysitting duties a little too seriously today.
"Have you ever had a Brazilian wax before?" Trixie inquires.
I shake my head. "No, but it's not like I have a choice," I mutter bitterly.
Her eyes convey a sympathy that no one else has shown me yet. "Well, I promise you'll barely feel it."
Bullshit. There's no way getting hair yanked off my pussy isn't going to hurt.
"Please, just get it over with," I say between clenched teeth. I hope she doesn't think I'm irritated with her. My anger is aimed towards my captor. The whole situation is an intrusion on my human rights that adds to the growing list of indignities I've suffered since arriving here. I know I agreed to do this once a week, but there's no way I'd willingly subject myself to this torture.
Trixie begins applying the warm wax, and its scent permeates the room. I brace myself, anticipating the inevitable. Danny observes with an unyielding gaze. In an instant, the strip is yanked off, and I release a piercing scream. "Motherfucker!" I shout. She quickly pats the area to dull the pain.
Danny stifles a laugh, masking it with a fake cough. I shoot him a glare. "I'm glad you find this amusing."
Taking a bite of the apple in his hand, he responds bluntly, "I sure do. You deserve to suffer."
Anger boils in my blood. I'm suffering enough for what happened yesterday, I'm tired of him taking the shit out on me. "You know, I know I did something stupid yesterday, but the rest of what happened wasn't my fault. He made you-"
He sneers. "He didn't make me do shit. Jefe has only ever shared his pets with our Underboss, so I consider it a privilege." He continues speaking before I can respond, the harshness unwavering in his voice. "You are here for his pleasure only. I assume he involved me in your punishment because he didn't deem you worthy of his mouth."
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did I smell or taste bad? Wait, why am I offended about something that shouldn't have happened in the first place?
Trixie orders me to flip around so she can wax between my ass cheeks. I guess the saying "mind the business that pays you" rings true because she seems unfazed by our conversation as she carries on with his work. Each rip of the wax intensifies the feeling of violation, serving as a stark reminder of my lack of control. I clutch onto the table, painfully digging my fingers into it to distract from the pain. Once she's finished, I put my pants on, and she gives me a compassionate smile before leaving.
I'm left alone with Danny, who's still watching me with that stoic mask on his face. Contemplating whether I should voice the question lingering on the tip of my tongue, I ultimately decide to go for it, even if it ends with me dying from embarrassment.
"H-How was it?" I manage to ask, feeling my cheeks flush.
Recognition lights up his eyes as he tilts his head, understanding my words. He snorts before responding, "I have no complaints besides eating the pussy of a traitor."
"I'm not a traitor," I retort, frustration evident in my voice. "It isn't fair that I'm paying off my father's debts when I didn't even know what he was involved in."
Despite my reluctance, I find myself opening up to him, hoping I can make him see that what his boss is doing is disgustingly wrong. I don't expect him to be my savior, but maybe he can be less of an asshole.
"Diego is being fair. Neither you nor your sister should have made it out of that house alive. Let it be me or anyone else that betrayed him the way Antonio did, and our families wouldn't have survived the night," he replies, his tone filled with disdain.
Okay, I understand why he holds such animosity towards me now, but how is that my fault? It sounds like an issue he should be taking up with his boss, but, of course, he's too deep in brainwashed loyalty to see it.
Fuck. This is going to be the longest week ever!