Ten Shades of Passion

“I am going to break you. That’s the whole purpose of this exercise. From the moment the door inside that room closes, I am not going to be Mr. Nice Guy. I am going to do everything in my power to hear you scream, and I won’t stop until I hear you beg for mercy. Do you wish to proceed on that basis?”

Then you’re going to have a very long day, I thought. Looking up from my hands, which I’d been obsessively staring at for the last five minutes, I finally risked another glance at his face.

My heart slammed into my chest, my eyes went wide, and my throat closed around the sounds I wanted to make.

Goddamn. Why did he have to be so damned beautiful? If it had been any other male in the universe, I wouldn’t have had a problem, but this one looked too much like him.

It took nearly all of my willpower, and I had an impressive amount of the stuff, to answer him back.

“Yes.” My eyes immediately returned to my hands, where they were safe.

He looked at me from above the glare of his computer screen and sighed. I knew what he was thinking. She’s a small, thin, frail-looking sparrow, and a good stiff wind would probably blow her over. She won’t last more than an hour.

Thankfully, he kept his reservations to himself.

Returning his gaze to the keypad in front of him, he then typed in my answer to the previous question. Three little taps. I heard every one. Those three letters could mean only one of two things: my death sentence or my salvation.

At this moment in time, I barely cared which one was waiting for me. Tomorrow would give me those answers. I could wait until then.

The man then began to boldly assess me, his eyes rolling up and down my body, and it was easy enough to fill in the blanks. My hair was a scraggly mess, and the black sack that I currently wore was for comfort rather than style.

There wasn’t a scrap of makeup upon my face, my body was an unpleasant pasty white, courtesy of the English winter, and I hadn’t even considered things like perfume or heels. I was a mess.

The recent weeks had played havoc with my self-esteem, and I had barely thought about my appearance this morning.

“You can pull out, Ms. Reeves. That option is still available to you.”

That annoyed me. He had my answer. Now I would have to look up at him again. Steeling my expression against the onslaught of his pretty face, I slowly raised my pale grey eyes towards him, and the look he received was devoid of emotion.

“No, I can’t,” I said. “This is my last lifeline. I do this, or I do something stupid.”

He tilted his head, considering the matter, whilst he twirled a very expensive fountain pen around in his fingers. “Do you even like pain?” he asked.

I smiled weakly. “I’m not entirely sure. That’s what I’m going to find out.”

I didn’t care about the pain. I’d been through pain far more excruciating than anything his hands could deliver.

“Why don’t you go for something a little tamer to begin with?" He asked.

Most girls opt for our ‘introduction to spanking’ package, or ‘sensual 50 shades of Brown' for their first encounter with us. Those packages are also much cheaper, by the way. You could then see what turned you on, before committing an awful lot of money for something you may not actually like.” He added.

My steely gaze became more determined as the man in front of me tried to thwart my carefully constructed plans. This was not about desire or arousal. This was about me, but obviously he didn’t know that.

All he needed to know was that I would not be taking any other package than the “Ultimate Guide to Pain.”

I had my reasons. If he knew them, he’d probably have me committed to the nearest mental institution, so it was just as well that he was a complete stranger who would be interested in nothing more than taking my money.

“Can I ask why you want that particular package?”

Mumbling underneath my breath, I cursed myself for speaking too soon. This was not how I had envisioned my simple booking session would go. It was supposed to be a “hand over your credit card and run” type thing.

A few simple questions, and a time and place were all that were needed, surely? Why was he trying to complicate things? I didn’t want to have to deal with this today. I just wanted to crawl back to my dark room and wait patiently for tomorrow to dawn.

Unfortunately, I had to get through this first. Looking him directly in the eye, trying to ignore the pale blue orbs of concern, my lips thinned. “Why do you care? Can you deliver it or not?”

“You need to answer the question. If you can’t answer it, then this conversation is over, and I will escort you to the door.” His mouth hardened.

I nearly gasped out loud. Who was this idiot? Did he try to psychoanalyse all his sexual conquests? What for? Kicks?

“This is ridiculous. Get me the manager.” My eyes darkened, and we stared each other down for the longest moment. Then, strangely, he smiled.

As he crossed his arms in front of me, I watched that smile, and he took his own sweet time with it.

My position of power from a moment ago had changed, and though my gaze did not waver, I knew instinctively that the shift was not in my favour. My intuition was rarely wrong, and this time was no exception.

“It just so happens, I am the boss.” He said, his arms still crossed. Oh shit.

“Great. Stop messing around and take my money.” I was now furious.

My eyes could not return to my hands because then he would have won, and I wasn’t going to let him have that, though it cost me dearly. Instead, I stared right through his skull and headed straight for his cerebral cortex. The gloves were off.

“Why do you like meting out pain? Do you enjoy hurting women?”

If possible, his smile got wider. “Is that what you think we do here? Hurt women?” He paused, and I resisted the urge to squirm.

“Are women all over the world…,” he leaned over the desk to give me the full weight of his stare, “...crazy enough to pay for that kind of thing?” His pen tapped sharply on the desk, daring me to answer.