Chapter Eleven
Kait
KAIT SLEEPILY rolled onto her back and winced. “Youchie,” she grumbled, as the pain from her bottom brought her to wakefulness. “Look what you did, you big bully,” she said to Aurelian.
There was no response.
She opened her eyes and sat up. “Aurelian?”
His side of the bed was empty.
“Damn,” she grumbled. One of the nice things about being with someone—whatever that meant right now, was not waking up alone. And yet, here she was.
She had fallen into a sleep as deep and refreshing as any she had ever had. Her ass did feel sore though.
With a huff, Kait rolled out of bed and slipped into what she now thought of asherterrycloth robe. She padded into the kitchen, met with the delicious aroma of hot coffee.
A note from Aurelian was propped up on the kitchen island. She unfolded it.
Cherie—forgive me for not being here to greet you in the morning. I had to go to work, and you were sleeping so soundly I did not wish to disturb you. There is fresh coffee waiting for you, juice in the fridge, and English muffins on the counter. Jams and jellies are on the fridge door.
Thank you so much for last night, Kait—it was amazing. I think you have an aptitude for submission, and I hope you decide to keep training with me. I am going to continue my investigations today, and, if I discover anything, I will communicate with you over an encrypted line. Marc kindly left behind two secure phones, and I have left one with this note. The only people on the network are myself, you, and Marc. I look forward to seeing you at the end of the day.
Yours, Aurelian
P.S. The tube of aloe is next to the sink in my bathroom. Please feel free to make use of it. :)
Kait chuckled as she read the postscript. “Yes, I will definitely be using that, thank you,” she said. “Then perhaps a shower and some breakfast.”
***
Kait stood at the kitchen island and worked away at her laptop. She had tried sitting on one of the bar stools before realizing this was a bad idea.
She ought to be furious or at least irritated about that. Instead, she had examined her bottom in the bathroom mirror, curiously proud about the marks on her behind.
I can’t lie.Last night was incredible.Kait had discovered to her surprise shelikedbeing restrained—in fact, she liked it a lot. Being cuffed had allowed her to relax and fall into submission to Aurelian’s will, and let him bring pain and pleasure as he chose.
He certainly brought both. Is it a problem I liked them equally? I’d hate to go through life without any more fucking, but I think I’d hate to go through life without any more spanking, either.
Kait finally understood why Talia had pursued submission so single-mindedly.
She shook her head to clear away the thoughts, took a sip of coffee, and returned to work. Slowly, using both public information as well as data culled from the private network, Kait was getting a better picture of how the Pleasure House of Tarma really worked—who called the shots, and where power was located within the institution.
The governing board of the House could be basically broken down into two factions; in her head, Kait called them the Old Guard and the New Wave. The Old Guard was made up of the original founders and those who followed them. They were people who believed sex work could be transformed into something elegant and refined, an entire identity that could provide social standing and a place in society for the Pleasure Consorts.
Opposing their philosophy was the New Wave. From what Kait had managed to put together, the New Wave was in it for the money. They complained about the cost and time of training and argued the House’s single-minded focus on the development of Pleasure Consorts was blinding them to other directions and revenue-generating opportunities. The greatest strength of the Pleasure House of Tarma, they argued, was its brand, and they should be taking advantage of that brand to make more money.
Rachel Gentry and Harold Dawes were part of the New Wave group.
Could they have gone so far off the rails they were trafficking women? Come to that, who would bebuyingthese women? So far, they only had one clue: theStella Marisluxury spaceliner.
Kait leaned on the counter and turned her research skills towards theStella Maris. She steadily plodded through advertising copy, corporate PR releases, and promotional videos. Unsurprisingly, they really didn’t give much away. TheStella Marispromised “galaxy-class luxury for an elite tier of guests, discerning clients who seek a service that anticipates and meets every need.”
Hmm…including sex slaves? She was making her way through publicly filed financial reports for stockholders when she suddenly stood upright. Listed as board members forStella MarisLuxury Spacecruises: Rachel Gentry and Harold Dawes.
“Gotcha!” said Kait exultantly.
So… Rachel Gentry and Harold Dawes had interests in both the Pleasure House andStella Maris. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Could they be trafficking women to another business they owned?
