Mansion (Forced Bonding Series) Read online

Page 5


  He sat on the bed and patted it, showing Emily that she should sit next to him.

  “I need to ask you something,” Dylan said. Emily looked down. Dylan tried his best not to roll his eyes. “Who are you? Why are you here, exactly? Why did you choose this life?”

  Emily stared at him again, now with a confused face.

  “My name is Emily Wigg, I’m here because your dad signed a contract with my agency, I choose this life because I always had this fantasy since I was a child, and I thought it was appropriate for the time being, since the Junction Year is coming and I have to find someone,” she explained promptly, and Dylan raised his eyebrows.

  Wow, she talks! He thought.

  “I get it. Look, Emily, I don’t think I’m the right person to be with you. You were expecting someone different, weren’t you?” he asked, and her eyes went wide, but she said nothing. Dylan encouraged her, “you can tell me anything.”

  “I didn’t know what to expect…” Emily whispered.

  “But probably not this, right?”

  “No…” she said, but she put her hands in front of her mouth in a sudden move. “I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t mean to say bad things about you.”

  “It’s all good,” Dylan said, and he lay down on the bed. Emily didn’t move. “Ugh, Emily, I’ve got to tell you something. I don’t know how so there it goes. I was with Natasha today.”

  Silence. She didn’t say anything. Dylan wondered if she had listened. He didn’t know how he could state it any clearer. He sat up and looked at her. She had the same expression as before.

  “I like Natasha, you know. A lot,” Dylan said. Emily still didn’t answer. “Is that all right for you?”

  “Yes, Master, I don’t have to have an opinion in your personal life.”

  “How come? You’re part of my personal life now!” Dylan exclaimed, raising his voice, but he realized it and apologized. “Sorry. It’s just that I thought you should know.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Stop calling me master. Why are you doing that? Is this your way to rebel? You obeyed everything else besides that,” Dylan said. Emily’s face flushed, she looked at her thighs, like she was caught red-handed.

  “Forgive me, Sir. You should punish me,” she said, no louder than a whisper.

  Dylan understood the game she was playing. She was doing that to get a punishment, to test Dylan.

  But there was nothing that he wanted less than to give her a spanking. And he really, really enjoyed giving spankings.

  “Emily. I’m sorry. This won’t work,” Dylan murmured. Emily kept staring at him. “We barely know each other… and I really have a crush on this other girl, you know. I’m very sorry.”

  Dylan wasn’t expecting Emily’s reaction. He was expecting her to be bland and boring as always. But what happened was basically the opposite of that.

  She lost it. The good girl posture, the controlled slave tone. Her eyes went wide, she got to the ground on her knees, in front of Dylan, tears in her eyes.

  “Please, please, don’t do that to me! Don’t take me back to that agency! The waiting line… is terrible. I’ll have to resume training with those sadistic instructors! All the girls there… we never imagine that we’ll have a chance, and now I have this, please, I’ll do everything you want, I’ll never call you master again, I’m sorry if I was so bad, please don’t take me back, sir!” she pledged, tears rolling down her face.

  Dylan stared at the girl on her knees and felt his heart beating fast.

  “Oh, Emily. Okay. Calm down. We’ll think of a solution,” Dylan said, offering his hand for the girl to get up. Tears were still streaming down her face.

  “I’m in the third year already…”

  “Of college?” Dylan asked, frowning. She nodded. “Are you older than me, then?”

  “I think so…” she said, and Dylan smiled, finding that funny. “I only have one more year before they put me together with someone random.”

  “But I am kinda random too, don’t you think?” Dylan asked while she wiped the tears out of her face with the back of her hand. “We met yesterday!”

  “Yes, but they don’t take into consideration your preferences when they join you with someone random. Imagine if I get stuck with a sub boy. We’d never… you know.”

  “Have sex?” Dylan asked. Emily smiled, letting a giggle escape, but she was back to that good slave posture. Dylan saw that and commented, “look, I prefer when you’re yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t stand this good slave thing. It’s not my thing,” Dylan said. Emily sighed.

  “Maybe we’re truly not meant to be together.”

  “How does this contract work? Is there a period you have to stay here or?”

  “Yes. Two weeks. Otherwise, if it doesn’t work, I’ll go back to the agency,” Emily said, shaking with the thought.

  “Can’t you just leave the agency?”

  “But then it’ll be worse! There’s no one compatible in my college! I tried everything I could to find someone in these past years! My mom is paying a lot to keep me in that agency! I couldn’t disappoint her.”

  “Let’s get some sleep. We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Dylan said. Emily nodded. “Do you want to sleep here with me, or would you like to have your own bed? Tell me the truth.”

  “This thing between us won’t work, right?” Emily asked, sighing.

  “I don’t think I make a good master,” Dylan said, curling his lips. Emily smiled.

  “Are there any spare rooms left then?”

  “Sure,” Dylan said, getting up. “Grab your things.”

  They went to the hall and Dylan chose one of the many rooms available. The mansion was gigantic and most of it wasn’t used. The spare room felt like Dylan’s own room. Empty. Like no one had ever slept there. It had a painting above the bed, but that was all the decoration. No life. No nothing.

  “See you tomorrow?” Dylan asked. Emily nodded and closed the door.

  Dylan felt warm and happy. He got rid of Emily as a slave, the girl was talking to him for the first time since she arrived, and she seemed happier. He went back to his bedroom, finally thinking he would get some rest. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, and lay down, closing his eyes, getting comfortable.

  The next thing he noticed was his dad slamming the door open, screaming. Dylan jumped in place, startled.

  “Dylan!!” Mr. Fleck screamed, going to the window, opening the shutters. It was morning already. “Why did you tell Emily to sleep in a different bedroom?”

  “What’s wrong??” Dylan asked, covering his face with a pillow. It was way too early for this bullshit. Dylan didn’t think it was possible, but his dad made a worse roommate than Carl.

  “You told Emily to sleep in another bedroom!” Mr. Fleck exclaimed, pulling the pillow from the boy’s head. Dylan groaned again. He opened his eyes and sat up, feeling the anger arising.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Dylan asked, groggy. The sun invaded his room too brightly for his eyes to stand. He was just wearing his boxers.

  “What do you mean with ‘what’s wrong’? She’s your slave. She should sleep here with you.”

  “Or in a dungeon,” Dylan murmured, but his dad didn’t think it was funny. He grabbed Dylan’s face, hard, forcing Dylan to look at him. It hurt.

  “Let me go!” Dylan exclaimed, pulling his chin back, getting away from the grip. “You know what? I’m leaving.”

  “What?!” Mr. Fleck asked, raising his voice.

  “I’m leaving. I’m clearly not welcome here. I never was. Bye,” Dylan said, getting out of bed, grabbing a shirt from the floor, and putting it on, all in a matter of seconds. He was only in shorts but that would do. He got his phone and his wallet from the nightstand, then dodged his father, and headed downstairs, even though he really needed to pee.

  “Get back here, right now!” Mr. Fleck screamed. Dylan resisted the strong urge to giving him the finger. He knew
he would be dead if he did that. His father would trash him and never give him money again. So, he just walked out of the door, dialing the taxi’s number. He didn’t wait there for the taxi, though. He kept walking down the street, in case his father wanted to get him. He knew his father refused to walk, so he would be safe.

  He was thinking about how much he needed to get himself a car, but he didn’t want to use his dad’s money anymore. He would have to get a job. Although he’d never worked before. Maybe he could join the military like Oliver. This thought made him laugh out loud. The taxi found him while he was walking, and he got in it.

  When he arrived at apartment 39, he entered without knocking. Nobody was there, so he ran to the toilet. When he got out, he saw Oliver’s worried face waiting for him down the hall. He looked like he had just woken up, his copper hair was messy, his eyes were half-closed, and he was wearing only black boxers, showing his six-pack.

  “Hi,” Dylan said, going to the couch.

  “Hey, man,” Oliver answered, yawning and stretching. “Why so early?”

  Dylan told the story, while Oliver conducted them back to his bedroom. Lucy was there, still laying down, but Oliver opened up the window to let the morning light enter. Lucy whined, just like Dylan had done earlier. She was sleeping with her butt up, wearing black lingerie only, so Oliver slapped her. She jumped in place, wailing, but she turned to face the boys.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Oliver said, smiling, and then gave her another sound slap.

  “Stop hitting me…” Lucy moaned, but then she smiled while stretching. Her dark hair was all tangled and she could barely open her eyes. “Hey, Dy!”

  “Hi, Lucy,” he said, sitting down. “Do you wanna hear why I’m here?”

  “Isn’t it because you love us and miss us?”

  “That too, of course.”

  “Just kidding, silly,” Lucy said. “Tell me, tell me!”

  Dylan nodded and started telling her all about Emily and his dad. When he was about to finish the story, though, they heard a vigorous knocking on the door. The three of them got silent, exchanging worried looks.

  “This early? Who?” Lucy said, with a worried face.

  “Oh, no…” Dylan whimpered. “If he asks, I’m not here.”

  “If it’s your dad, you have to talk to him. We can’t lie, Dylan!” Oliver exclaimed while the knocking got louder.

  “Do something, do something!” Dylan said, panicking. “I’ll run away through the window!”

  “No, sir, you won’t,” Oliver said. “You have to end this right now.”

  “I don’t want to faaaaace him!” Dylan said, trying to hide his head under a pillow.

  “Wait! Wait! I’m coming!” they heard someone saying. They stayed silent again, exchanging another worried glance. “I’m coming!”

  “Natasha, noooo!” Dylan screamed, getting up and going down the hall, right when she opened the door, still wearing her pink night robe, with her hair all messy.

  It was Mr. Fleck himself, and he looked furious. He didn’t wait for an invitation to get in. He pointed at Dylan, and Dylan looked around, pondering about his escape options. He didn’t have any.

  “How dare you run away like that?” Mr. Fleck asked. Dylan didn’t know what to say but then Oliver got by his side. He had put his work clothes on, camo military uniform, so Mr. Fleck backed off.

  “Good morning, Mr. Fleck,” Oliver said.

  “Morning, Oliver. Did Dylan tell you what he did?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s impressive. Aren’t you ashamed of telling that to your friends?” Mr. Fleck asked. “I get you the best slave available in one of the best agencies in town, and you let her go! What will you do? You won’t get anyone else, you brat!”

  “I don’t want a slave,” Dylan said, folding his arms. “And you can’t enter here like that. This isn’t even my apartment.”

  “Oh, I know. I went there first.”

  “You did what?!” Dylan exclaimed, thinking about how his roommates would want to kill him.

  “Mr. Fleck!” Natasha exclaimed. Everybody stopped what they were doing to stare at the girl. “There’s a reason Dylan doesn’t want Emily.”

  “Yeah? Would you be kind enough to enlighten me then?”

  “It’s because we’re together,” Natasha said and looked at Dylan, who made the same surprised face as his father.

  Mr. Fleck looked from her to Dylan, and then from Dylan to her.

  “Are you being serious?” he asked. Natasha nodded. Then, he turned to Dylan, still with a shocked face. “Is this true?”

  “Absolutely…” Dylan hesitated, looking confused at Natasha.

  “Why didn’t you tell me then, stupid boy?”

  “It’s because,” Natasha started saying, “I asked him not to. Since… the incident. I was very embarrassed.”

  No one said anything for a while. Dylan didn’t know how his dad would react. His own heart was beating quickly, and he suddenly felt like throwing up.

  “Well, you should have said so, honey. So that’s why you two were together that day! Everything makes sense now,” Mr. Fleck said, turning to Natasha, and opening a broad smile. “Now we have to wait two weeks until sending Emily back.”

  “I’m sorry, dad,” Dylan said.

  “Oh, no, son, it’s okay, it’s okay. I like this explanation much better. I thought that you might be… a submissive.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Dylan whispered, but the father ignored.

  “I’m sorry I stormed in. Please, you two, go there later, then. We need to celebrate!” Mr. Fleck said. Natasha opened up a big smile.

  “Sure, Mr. Fleck.”

  “Call me Michael, sweetie!” he exclaimed, visibly relieved. He threw a last look around and said, “I’ll leave you alone now. I know Oliver has to work.”

  “Okay!” Natasha answered. He waved his goodbyes and left, first hugging Natasha. She was wearing old white pajamas, but she didn’t look embarrassed. He then shook Oliver’s hand, with a big smile. He didn’t go near Dylan, but he also smiled at him.

  When he closed the door shut, everybody exchanged looks, trying to understand what had happened.

  “That was close!” Natasha exclaimed.

  “Natasha… we…” he started saying, but she laughed.

  “Yeah, I can’t believe he fell for that. You and me together! That’s a good one,” she said like that thought was really amusing. Dylan didn’t say anything. His heart was pounding fast, his mouth dry. “Let’s pretend that we’re together so he gets off your back, right? I’ll do it for you, buddy!”

  “Yeah. Sure!” Dylan said, trying to look as happy as she was. She smiled and started going back to her bedroom.

  They didn’t say anything, but Oliver stared at Dylan, shaking his head.

  Chapter 8. Let’s Play

  “Come oooon, come with me,” Natasha said, holding Dylan’s arm. “Now that we’re together,” she blinked.

  “You remember how it ended up the last time we went to a BDSM event like that. You almost got 100 lashes in the public square,” Dylan said, chuckling. The last time they both went to a BDSM club, they had a fight, Natasha harassed a man there, and he called the police. “It wasn’t very nice.”

  “But I’ll behave this time. Besides, I’ve been there many times after that, and nothing happened. Everything was fine.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it,” Dylan said, sighing. He knew he shouldn’t, especially because he really liked Natasha and he knew she would find many other partners to play with her. That couldn’t be good for his mental health. But, even so, he did it.

  “Yay!!” Natasha screamed, excited. “Okay, get ready, leaving in thirty.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Dylan said, thinking of how Oliver would want to kill him for that.

  In no time, they both were in the taxi, ready to go to Diablo, their favorite BDSM club. Actually, it was the only club Dylan ever went to.

  Diablo was a box-shaped bu
ilding, all black. It was impossible to tell what was really happening inside. The lights were always on, the walls were painted black, and the floor, red. There were many spanking benches, St. Andrew Crosses, and implements that anyone could use. The sound was not of music but of people screaming, crying, and having fun.

  They walked in and Natasha opened a big smile, turning her head to look at all the scenes going on. Her shiny golden hair was up in a bum and Dylan stared at her long neck, imagining how good it would be to bite it. He was already imagining that she would leave and go looking for new people to play. But not this time. This time she held his arm and said:

  “Let’s play a scene. You can even top. I know you like to top.”

  “Wow…” Dylan murmured. She had never invited him to do a scene like that before. Usually, he had to beg her to play with him. “Sure thing! Let’s do it.”

  “Great! You can choose what we’ll do.”

  “All right, gosh, cool!” Dylan said, looking around, thinking about all the possibilities.

  He took her hand, and they got near one of the X-shaped crosses. Heavy-metal music played in the background, and Natasha didn’t even ask to get a drink before the scene.

  “Strip,” Dylan ordered, trying to make a dominant face. Natasha laughed and took off her pink blouse. Dylan saw her big fleshy boobs and his dick immediately pulsated. Then, Natasha started taking off her jeans, letting her red lingerie show.

  Dylan put her on the cross, tying her wrists delicately to each part of the X. She turned her bright blue eyes to stare at him with expectation. He smiled, running his hand through her back, watching how the goosebumps appeared there. He could tell she was aroused just by her smell, that divine scent that woke his primal instincts.

  He looked around to see if he could find any tools not being used. He chose a heavy and braided whip. Dylan deep down knew that would hurt a lot but that was what he really wanted. He didn’t like it when the word “revenge” appeared in his brain. But he also knew that Natasha loved pain and that she could take a lot of it.