Chapter VI: A Natural Submissive

“Yes Sir. But you must understand that my knowledge on this life is sort of…limited.”

Mr. Masen looks amused, his emerald eyes filled with mirth.

“I understand that Isabella. But you are naturally submissive. That is the key element to all of this. You have to want this too. I will train you and Isabella…I am a great teacher.”

Although I know little, I trust him. He is right about me. I crave domination; I crave the structure it can provide. It has been many years since I have felt cared for; it has been a long time since anyone in this world has looked out for me. I’ve spent so many years being angry, angry at my family, angry at God, and angry at myself. Until now, I had not realized how far I had fallen. I know if I had the courage to look in the mirror, truly look, I would not recognize myself.

“What is it Isabella,” Mr. Masen asks after I have been quiet for too long.

I flush and avoid his gaze. I don’t want to bare my soul to him, not yet at least. Mr. Masen rubs my back and coaxes me to speak. I can’t talk about it. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to talk about it.

“If this relationship is going to work, we have to be open and honest with each other.”

“It is nothing sir,” I calmly assure him, “I was merely lost in thought.”

I glance up at him to find his gaze assessing me. I’m sure he does not believe me, but he says nothing. Mr. Masen holds me in his arms and the feeling is soothing. I don’t want to remember the last time I was comforted like this. I replace those old memories that have plagued my thoughts for so long with this new one. When I look back on a time where I felt exceptionally cared for, I shall remember this.

“I don’t want you to return to that club Isabella,” Mr. Masen says. His voice low and riddled with disgust.

As much as I would love to never return, I know I can’t afford it. I can barely afford my living as it is. The money has become an addiction and it’s so hard to turn away. Every day as I make the long bus ride into the city I promise myself that that day will be my last at Jack’s club. But every night when I leave with money in hand, I can’t bring myself to quit. There are not many options for a girl like me, at least none that would pay so well. When you have no one, you can’t afford to be particular.

Jack knows this. I know that is why he hired me. It’s the same reason he has hired many girls. He wants us dependent on him, dependent on the money, and dependent on the lifestyle we become accustomed to. But for me, it is not much of a lifestyle. I barely get by. After my bills are paid there is nothing left. As soon as there is nothing left, I take my clothes off once more.

“Sir,” my voice is uneasy, “it’s my job.”

My reply sounds weak. I sound weak. I can’t afford to stop, not with the responsibilities I have. Mr. Masen has to understand this. I won’t be his kept woman. I won’t allow him to purchase me every night.

“I can help you find a more suitable position. I’m sure there is something you would rather do. I know you hate the club, I could see it in your eyes,” Mr. Masen states.

“Sir,” I begin meekly, as I do not want to anger him on this subject, “I do dislike it. But I need the money.”

He is quiet for a moment, calculating. “You could work here…for me. I need a new housekeeper.”

Could I truly work for this man? Shouldn’t there be some separation between us? I’m sure he would grow bored of me if I were always around. What if he were to grow bored of me, would he merely throw me out like a used toy when he was finished? I need job security, I need the money. Or perhaps, I merely don’t want to give it up. I’m surprised by this and find that I barely know myself.

“I would like to stay where I am at,” I state quietly.

Mr. Masen tilts my chin up so I am forced to meet his gaze. “That is out of the question Isabella. If you are to be my submissive I will not allow other men to gawk at you. You will begin to behave modestly. If you don’t, then I shall punish you. Do I make myself clear Isabella?”

I silently gape at him, too in shock to say anything. I’ve never allowed anyone to order me around, but when Mr. Masen does it, its…arousing. Very arousing and I find myself wanting to follow his rules. I want to please him and I would like for him to be proud of me.

“Answer me Isabella,” he commands.

“Yes sir.”

His gaze drops to my naked body. “Do you have any modest clothes Isabella?”

“Yes sir.”

It has been years since I have purchased new apparel. My clothes from high school are modest, although they are rather loose.

“I would like you to wear something modest the next time we meet. Your appearance is a reflection on me now.” Mr. Masen pauses for a moment, appraising me. “Do you have someplace to stay Isabella?”

Does this man believe I am homeless? Do I look homeless?

“Yes sir,” I say, my tone riddled with embarrassment, “I have an apartment.”

“Take some time to think Isabella. I really want you to meditate on my offer before you sign anything. We will only do what you feel comfortable with, I promise. We will meet again on Monday?”

Although he asks, it does not sound like a question. I nod in affirmation. Mr. Masen smiles and places a kiss on my temple.

“Monday it is then,” Mr. Masen grins. A real grin seems so uncharacteristic for this man, I stay stunned in place. “I will drive you home now.”

“I can take a cab,” I suggest shyly. I don’t want Mr. Masen to see my apartment. I doubt he will approve.

“I would like to drive you. That way I’ll know that you arrived safely.”

It’s strange that he cares. But then again, I suppose I am a stranger no longer. I am his submissive and he promised to take care of me.