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I walk into my room and collapse on my bed, sighing in relief. I immediately regret my choice because I still have to shower and brush my teeth.
Turning over onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling.
Is my boss single? Yes, he is. Or at least I hope he is. Especially since he isn’t shy to invade my personal space.
I’ve never been in a relationship. That would probably have to do with some of my upbringing. I was born to a prostitute, who proceeded to sell me like I was a make-money-quick scheme. I guess I was as it worked out pretty well for her. My life has been something out of a horror story. At one point, I was locked in a room for close to a year. My only contact was a nanny who never looked me in the eye.
I didn’t understand there were such things as normal families—I had never seen or heard of one. When I got older, I ran away several times. My behavior was not tolerated, and I was beaten for it.
But I didn’t care and would do it again and again.
They would always find me.
At the age of fifteen, I knew how to please a man. What to do with my body to get what I wanted.
The last time I ran away, I didn’t get caught.
That was until I hit the border of a different country and somehow ended up with a man who took me to parties where he would proceed to sell me.
The man was neither mean or nice, he was merely a man wanting to make money.
That is when my luck changed, and I met Jake.
I was too young for him the first time I met him, but he bought me anyway, paying dearly for me to get out of the business and have a few years of a normal childhood. He put me in a house with a housekeeper, and I even had access to the internet, where I could learn things. He was the first person in my entire life to treat me as I was—a child.
I was…happy. At least, I think I was.
When I turned twenty-one, I was officially Jake’s.
Old enough to work.
I was happy to work for him, even knowing he owned a sex club because I owed him more than he would ever know.
It helped.
Immensely.
Don’t get me wrong. Those evil thoughts still love to try to creep into my head, take hold, and don’t let go. The ones where I have never been good enough, and how I am nothing more than an object to people. It’s hard to see yourself as something more when you are so used to people putting you down and using you.
But I work myself out of them.
My life before Jake was a life I didn’t want, I was taken, and what happened to me was not my choice.
But this life I am living right now? It is solely my choice.
Jake taught me on his visits that a woman’s body is her sole responsibility, and I could choose who touched it.
I liked the sound of that after having men who had so much power over me for so long. It felt good to have control.
And as it turned out, I was good at it.
I hadn’t worked out yet how I was good at many things.
The flashy things I have now, I make men pay for.
Up there for thinking, down there for fucking.
Leaving Jake was a big step for me because I love him. Not in a romantic way. He is a man who refuses to show feelings. He is cold in some ways and kind in many others. If I had something I could call family, it would be Jake.
