The Things Done to Me Ch. 09

Author's Note: The character "Bella Donna" from chapter 2 has been renamed "Demi Tanzer" to differentiate her character from a real-life actress. I apologize for any confusion. All characters are above the age of 18. I want to thank my wife for editing and my friend Ann for her encouragement.

It's about three in the morning, and here I am, awake, in the living room with my tablet, banging out a journal entry. Dr. Angioli, do I get bonus points for extra entries? No? I didn't think so.

I had a nightmare in which Mark was my Dom. He was so horrible to me. He slapped my face during sex, told me that I was no better than a farm animal as far as he was concerned, and kept me in a dog kennel cage when he didn't have a use for me. I tried to use my safeword multiple times during the dream only to realize that I didn't have one. There was nothing I could do to stop him.

The worst part of all was the fact that it turned me on. Being humiliated and abused turned me on. Being neglected and ignored made me dripping wet. It was horrifying to have my body betray me like that. I was constantly on edge, ready to be fucked into my next orgasm, whether I liked it or not.

When I woke up, the bed was soaked. I wish we already had the waterproof mattress protectors that Vince ordered; this is getting ridiculous. I've never leaked so much in my life. I've never cum so much in my life. Ever since I started that damn conditioning, I've been horny almost perpetually.

That's probably the origin of my dream - the conditioning. Yesterday, when Vince told me who had called - that Mark had called - my heart sank. At that exact moment, I also felt the need to talk to him... to listen to him... to obey him. Of course, I didn't tell Vince this.

He thinks his conditioning video worked. I may have given him the impression that I was cured prematurely. These feelings are just a part of the conditioning I wasn't aware of and haven't encountered before. They must have been subliminal, somehow, buried deep within the video and audio.

He couldn't have called at a worse time. Mark was like that - he always made things as painful as possible, whether intentionally or unintentionally. I was so in love and felt so close to Vince on a spiritual level, blissfully in his arms. If he had asked me to marry him, I would have asked if tomorrow morning worked for him. And then Mark happened.

So that's why I'm up at 3:43 in the morning. I'm typing on a damn tablet instead of a keyboard, hoping that I don't wake Vincent. And I'm praying that the handful of hours I've slept today will be enough because my first day back on the job is tomorrow, and I don't want to blow it. Fuck it. I'm making coffee.

_____________

"I'm surprised you're up so early," Scarlet said from Persephone's computer monitor. "I didn't expect you until later today - after your appointment."

Scarlet was an older woman with long raven-black hair. She wore a blood-red blazer and skirt over a cream blouse, as she often did. Behind her was the backdrop of sunlit windows, which hinted to Persephone that Scarlet was in her office.

"The doctor canceled," Persephone said with a frown. "Or, rather, her office canceled. She's developed COVID symptoms." She shifted at her desk in the bedroom, hoping that her surroundings weren't too casual.

Scarlet smiled sadly. "I understand. The doctors think my mother has it, but there are so few damn testing kits..." She shook her head. "Anyway, I'm trying to keep my mind off of all of that."

"I really am sorry to hear that, Mrs. Belliveau," Persephone said.

"Thank you, but please call me Scarlet," she replied. "I'm going to spare you the morning meeting, seeing as you're not 100% back yet, but the rundown is that we're considering cost-saving measures, including cutting back all of our employees to 4 days a week. The alternative would be to start letting people go. However, after looking at the work each individual does for the company, I really can't find anyone who doesn't pull their weight, so I'm trying to avoid layoffs at all costs."

"I see..."

"We have a new line of COVID masks, which we're already debuting on our website, and we've started donating masks as well for the less fortunate. Other than that, it's business as usual," Scarlet explained.

"Well, I'm excited to start on this project. We should call it the Night Bride dress line. By the end of the week, I hope to have at least three dresses for you along with suggestions on how to expand into accessories." Persephone smiled.

"I was thinking about your proposal last week and had an epiphany," Scarlet said. "The wedding industry can't be the only industry that will face hardships in these upcoming months, so why not pool our resources and work together with those outside of our bubble. My daughter suggested I contact Demi Tanzer, a fetish wear designer and well-known personality within the BDSM community. The star power alone would boost visibility and help us reach our target audience."

"Star power? Am I still the lead designer on the project?" Persephone asked.

"Of course you are - it was your idea! And you will still have the final say over all pieces of the project. However, should we have her as co-designer, her name alone would boost the credibility of our product and potential customer base..."

"Is my name going to be a part of the advertising?"

"No, but then again, you're not a big name," Scarlet argued.

"Then I'm not going to be seen as the lead designer, and this line of clothing might as well be called the Demi Tanzer line," Persephone said.

"I was actually thinking the Demi Tanzer Bridal line," she clarified.

Persephone's eyes lit up. "That's where I heard that name before - she's a former porn actress!"

"Now, don't hold that against her. She's... wait - you've heard of her?" Scarlet asked.

"Yes. I'm not holding that against her. If you'd prefer Demi Tanzer to do the project - let her do it. Yes, it was my idea, but you're trying to save the company, and I respect that. If you're handing the design duties to someone else, go ahead. However, if I'm going to work on this project? I want the credit, not someone else. Those are my conditions."

"You've never been this demanding before," Scarlet said.

"You've never asked something so unreasonable before," Persephone countered.

"Touche." Scarlet leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I haven't heard back from Demi yet, so nothing is set in stone. However, I wanted to offer her something that would raise the profile of both of our businesses."

Persephone shook her head. "It would be a good idea if I talk to her directly before you make any final business decisions. Of course, you have the final say over the agreement, but if I can talk to her, designer to designer, maybe we can come up with something that works for everyone involved."

"Okay, I'll let you have the first crack at her. I'll trust you on this, Persephone. I'll see what I can do about arranging a meeting, and you start work on my daughter's dress," Scarlet said.

"Sounds good," she responded. "I'll talk to you later, Mrs. Belliveau."

"Again, please call me Scarlet..."

_____________

Vince sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, surveying the submarine sandwich he just created. He sighed happily and lifted half the sandwich to his mouth when he saw Persephone walking out of her bedroom.

"Hey, Sephe - How was your session?" he asked.

"Didn't happen. Dr. Angioli developed COVID symptoms over the weekend and is waiting for testing. I really could have used to talk to her today, too," she answered with a frown. However, her attitude changed when her eyes fell on the Italian submarine in front of Vince. "Oh wow - that looks good!"

Vince smiled. "Italian subs are a specialty of mine. If you get a plate, you can have half."

Persephone flashed Vince a bright smile and went into the kitchen.

"You said you needed to talk to Dr. Angioli? Is it something you can talk with me about?" he asked as he watched her grab a plate from the kitchen cabinets.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. She circled to the breakfast bar and sat down next to Vince with her plate. "It might be a touchy subject for you, and I don't want you to overreact."

Vince transferred the second half of his sub to her plate. "When have I ever overreacted?"

"Kassandra," Persephone quipped before taking a bite.

Vince sat back and took a deep breath. "You know I don't like to hear her name, Sephie. The bitch broke my heart. Cheated on me with an employee under her direct supervision." He took a bite of his sub.

"I know, Vince... but you asked for an example." Persephone reached past Vince for his Coke and stole a sip.

"So you think sending her whole office the nude photos she traded with her lover was overdoing it?" he asked as he got up.

"Yes," she said. "You have a real vengeful streak!"

Vince opened the refrigerator and grabbed another Coke. Then, he opened the bottle, took a swig, and set it down in front of Persephone. "You're probably right."

"I know I'm right... but she did deserve it," Persephone added.

Vince regarded her thoughtfully and then sighed. "Okay - I promise not to do anything rash," he said. "At least not without your permission," he added with a pained smile.

"That call from Mark affected me more than I let on," she admitted. "I had a nightmare where he was my Dom. Without getting into too many details, he treated me like trash. It was like I was living on the wrong end of every misogynist's wet dream. I didn't have a safeword, so I couldn't stop it." Persephone took a heavy swig from her bottle. "And the worst thing is, my body betrayed me. Despite being sick to my stomach, I was also extremely turned on by the time I woke up."

"The conditioning?" he asked.

"I think so... I'm not going to be free of this thing for a long time, am I?"

Vince's shoulders sagged as he felt his heart drop to his stomach. "No, I guess not," he whispered. "I imagine it will take several counter-conditioning sessions. However, there is one thing I can suggest."

"Oh?"

"That you call him and see what he wanted," he said.

"I really don't think that's a good idea!" Persephone replied.

"It's a horrible idea, but I can't think of any other way of getting a recording of his voice."

"You're thinking...."

"If you can't beat the conditioning, change it," he said.

"I'll admit, I felt a lot better about myself yesterday after our scene. I love you for that," Persephone said as she leaned in to kiss him.

Vince felt a surge of protectiveness, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her deeply and gently. He growled softly as she broke their kiss.

"That was... surprising," she hesitated.

"If I'm going to kiss you, it isn't going to be a peck. Get used to it," he told her.

"Yes, Sir." Persephone squeaked. She shifted in her seat and straightened her clothes.

"So, if you weren't in session with Dr. Bea, what were you doing this whole time?" Vince asked as he took another bite of his sub.

"I was working. I decided to start early and get a jump on things. I've completed my four hours, and I'm off for the rest of the day." She frowned. "Scarlet wants to bring in an outside designer to work on my Night Bride line - to give it some name recognition. I'm not too happy with that idea, but we'll see what happens."

He took a swig of soda. "Well, if you want me to send nude photos of this designer to your boss to get her fired, just let me know," he joked.

"Shouldn't be too hard to find nude photos of her; she's a porn actress turned fetishwear designer. Demi Tanzer," she grumbled.

"Wait. The Demi Tanzer?"

Persephone blinked. "What do you mean, The?"

"She's a well-known advocate of sex-worker rights and LGBTQ rights, as well as a highly respected fetishwear designer," Vince explained. "I've met her once at a munch. She struck me as extremely knowledgeable and easygoing."

"Huh. So having Demi's name on the designs -" she started.

"- would be a huge boon," he interrupted.

"I still don't like the idea of someone else taking credit for my work," Persephone grumbled.

Vince nodded. "I don't think that's fair regardless of who we're talking about."

"Well, Scarlet is supposed to set up a meeting with Demi Tanzer where I can discuss designing the line with her." Persephone shrugged. "We'll see how it goes."

_____________

An image of a man in a suit sitting in front of a bookcase full of leather-bound volumes appeared on the living room television screen. He had sandy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a cleft chin. He gave Persephone a crooked smile.

"Lovely to see you, as always, Persephone," he said smoothly, and he looked her over.

"Mark," she stated, acknowledging his presence. "You called me last night?"

"Yes, I wanted to discuss our future. You see, as I understand it, your grandparents have given you an ultimatum regarding your recent romantic entanglement with a cousin and your previous marriage to me," he motioned to himself. "While I'm disinclined to give you another chance, it's been made clear to me by my family that I would forgo a tidy sum of money should I not be married to my first wife when my parents die. We both stand to make quite a bit of money out of this arrangement."

"I don't want your money or my grandparents' money," she stated.

"There's also the matter of your estrangement from your father and mother. Now, as I understand it, you've developed a certain interest in kinky sex; I'm more than willing to whip you every once in a while if that's what it takes to get you off," Mark chuckled. "Hell, as I understand it, cuckqueaning is a fetish - I'd be more than happy to let you watch me fuck another woman while you masturbate."

"It's only a fetish if it's consensual. Otherwise, it's cheating," Persephone sneered. "Speaking of which, what does that misguided little girl think about all of this? Has she realized you're a manipulative ass yet?"

"COVID hit, and Candace decided she would rather be with family," Mark shrugged. "Easy come, easy go."

"Good," Persephone gave a sardonic smile. "She may be a homewrecker, but I'm honestly glad she got away from you. Candace has her whole life ahead of her and doesn't need you fucking it up for her."

"You wound me! Fortunately, it isn't my face that got wounded. Speaking of which, you know that some of the best plastic surgeons in the world are right here in California. If I take you back, we can get your face fixed up good as -"

"I like my face as it is now," she interrupted.

"Oh! When did you decide this?!" he laughed.

"The moment you brought up plastic surgery. I don't want to owe you anything," Persephone spat.

"You owe me a fortune," he growled.

"You're the one who divorced me. I was working my ass off to make the relationship work while you were having an affair with a nineteen-year-old girl! I think you owe me a fortune, but I'll settle for never hearing from you again."

"Do you know what's funny about all of this?" Mark asked. "If you had been a real submissive while we were married, I probably wouldn't have divorced you. But, instead, you're stuck pretending with that Beta-male cousin of yours, never really knowing what it means to be dominated by a True Alpha. If you ever want to be owned by a real man, make sure you're naked and crawling when you beg me. Otherwise, I won't even consider it."

"GO TO HELL, MARK!!!" she screamed.

Persephone hung up the video chat and immediately broke down into tears. Sobbing, she slid off of the sofa and tucked her head between her knees. Vince ran out of his office and wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Sephie - I should have never suggested this," he said to her.

"D-did you get a l-large enough s-sample of his voice?" she asked between heaves.

"I'll make it work. I'm not putting you through that again." Vince kissed her forehead and rocked her. "You're mine; no one gets to talk to you that way. If I ever see him again, I'll fucking throat punch the bastard."

Persephone nodded. "Precious pet slut?" she asked.

"Yes. You're my precious pet slut - you're mine to play with, humiliate, hurt, and make cum, because I swear to you, I would never knowingly push you past your limits. I will always respond when you use your safe word."

"I know it sounds weird, but I really needed to hear you say that," she whispered. "It makes me feel safer."

"Good girl," Vince cooed.

"Sir?" Persephone asked in a small voice.

"Yes, Sephie?"

"May I go talk to Sophia? I think I need to talk to her...."

"Of course," he said.

"In private?" she asked.

"Absolutely. I'll just... I'll work off a little of this anger I have, okay?"

"Okay."

Vince helped Persephone up. She made her way to the bedroom while he set up his home gym machine. She couldn't help but feel ashamed; Mark's horribleness had aroused her, even as his abusive words made her sick to her stomach.

Persephone flopped on her bed and took a deep breath. She felt wrung out. Her eye flitted around the room for her cellphone, which she found on her bedside table. She retrieved it and called Sophia. It picked up on the first ring.

"Sophia Blevins' phone," a deep male voice answered. "I'm sorry, but she's a little tied up right now...."

"Are you Master Rob?" Persephone asked.

"Sophia calls me that, yes. But, unless you're my sub, I prefer you to call me Robert." His voice was firm but not unfriendly.

"Robert, I'm Persephone - Vince's sub."

"I am aware of who you are. Can I help you?" Robert asked.

"Maybe you can. Can we video chat?"

"Okay. I'll call back in exactly five minutes," he said.

Persephone rushed to set up her camera for a video chat. Then, just as she was sitting down, the phone rang. Five minutes exactly.

"Hello?" Persephone asked.

"Good. I'm ready," Robert responded.

She pulled up the video chat application and enlarged his image to full-screen.

Robert was an older white man with wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He had a gray mustache and salt-and-pepper hair. A dark blue tie hung undone from his neck, and the light blue button-down shirt was half unbuttoned. He looked at Persephone unflinchingly.

"Sir?" Persephone asked.

"Again, I'm not your Dom. If you call me Master or Sir once again, I'll have to disconnect this call. Is that clear?" he asked in a clear, firm, and authoritative voice.

"Can I call you Rob?"

"Robert," he said.

"Uh, Robert, you're a very... intimidating Dom," she said.

"That's not a question, Persephone," he observed.

"Why is Vince so different from you? Is it because you're an Alpha male? Can Beta males be Doms?"

"Those are questions, but two of those three questions are based on a false assumption," he sharply remarked. "I am, what some would call, an Alpha male. However, if truth be told, there is no such thing as an Alpha male. The concept of Alpha and Beta males is based on observations of wolf behavior done in the 1940s. Not only have scientists disproven the hypothesis of Alpha male wolf behavior, but they've shown that these concepts don't apply to male human behavior either."

Robert took a sip from a brandy sniffer and continued. "If you take a high school football team and add a brilliant but socially awkward male to their team, he will behave like the Beta stereotype. Place one of those football players on the debate team, and the football player will act like the Beta stereotype. It's completely situational - as it is for most Doms. No one is dominant in all circumstances; such a person would be difficult and..."

"What makes you different than Vince, then?" Persephone asked.

"...disruptive. Please don't interrupt," he said in an almost-kind tone. "The fundamental difference between Vince and myself is how we came to become Doms. For me, I've always had a dominant personality - it's integral to who I am. I am the stereotype - a wealthy, white, straight male with expensive tastes and the desire to have beautiful young girls serve me as sex slaves. All except that last part is true; I love my Sophia and wouldn't want to replace or supplement her with someone else."