Barefoot, but definitely not pregnant

The blinding light wakes Elena from her slumber. She spies a crack in the door. But where’s Alex? She swears she didn’t hear anything and yet—

“Looking for someone?”

His breath reeks. The guy must have gone two days without brushing. No wonder he’s stuck with call girls and slaves. Any decent woman would’ve run away and called the cops. Or just run away.

He unchains her. She sits upright, watching him warily. He’s frozen for several seconds, looking at her as though she’s a statue. Whatever is going through that perverted writer’s head isn’t good. But the day is still young.

Or is it night?

“Get up.” He commands her.

The words don’t register with her.

“Are you deaf? I said, get your ass up!”

Elena stands erect, waiting for his orders. He yanks her by the hand as they traverse the stairs. The intern peeks through windows, watching limbs sashay in the breeze. Oh how she wishes to be out there in the wild, listening to the mating calls of birds.

The sound is enough to make her heart patter a little.

As her eyes focus, she fixates on the portable, black vacuum cleaner in the middle of the living room, idling. The device reminds her of one of those leaf blowers the janitors at work use. Not something one would expect to find in an upscale mansion in one of New York’s toniest neighborhoods. Alex leads her toward the appliance.

The **** grimaces.

“I want this entire room vacuumed by the end of my lunch break. When you’re done you’re to continue into the master bedroom, the office and all the guest rooms through that hall.” He points helpfully toward the corridor to her left. After that you’re to await further instructions. Failure to comply WILL result in SEVERE punishment. Do you understand?”

“I guess.”

Alex slaps her.

“Yes, sir.” Elena massages the red welt on her face.

He slaps her again.

“I didn’t hear you…”

“YES, MASTER!”

“’Sounds more like it.”

She straps the machine on her back, cursing under her breath.

“One more thing.” He kicks her in the rear. Elena catches herself as she falls, steadying herself on her hands and knees.

“If I spy you standing upright the whole time, the punishment will be twice what I normally dole out. Don’t forget, I have web cams and shit all over this place.“ He shows her his iPhone. “Don’t think for a second you can take a break unless I tell you to.”

He collects his car keys and slams the front door behind him.

The strain of the vacuum cleaner weighs on her back as she cleans, covering every inch of the carpet and floor as she works her way out of the room. She sniffles as dust particles drift into the air. It irritates her eyes.

Sonofabitch She whispers. Like a boss riding herd. Next thing she’ll know, he’ll be asking her to fix his coffee. She could’ve done just as well at PPI. At least the **** stops at five over there. No telling how long this’ll continue. Elena could see why her boss was so hesitant to do business with the man—he’s like a male version of herself, on steroids.

She grimaces as she spies several condom wrappers lying in Alex’s sleeping quarters. She pushes them away into a corner, far from the prying eyes of any cameras that may be watching. The mere sight of them makes her feel icky. She wonders what type of person would be willing to sleep with such a skank whore.
Then again, when you’re Alex West, erotic author extraordinaire, there’s no shortage of willing partners.

Oh, my back she groans. She spies a nook and crawls toward it, freeing herself of the vacuum cleaner. She’d do anything for an Aspirin right now. But rules are rules. She isn’t about to risk his wrath over some paltry concern about her health.

Elena glances at the rumpled covers on the bed. She can only imagine what stains must be on those blankets. Probably enough sperm on there to produce five or six Presidents, an entire squad of Rhode Scholars, and a hundred Peter North wannabes to keep San Fernando Valley busy for the next five decades. To say nothing of little Alex Wests running around single-handedly ushering in a fad in chastity belts among respectable women and concerned parents.

Why not kill two birds with one stone while she’s at it? Make up the bed and vacuum, and maybe earn some brownie points in the bargain. He could certainly use some help around the house…not like his has his own personal army of maids. Who knows? Maybe he’d feel grateful enough to let her eat something other than rice tonight.

But he didn’t say anything about the bed.

Elena regains her strength, moving on to the office. She spies a stack of postcards on the desk near his computer.

“TEMPLE OF BAAL PARTY” The flourish of cursive reads. “Friday, July 21st, 2010. Come one, come all. BYOS.”

She frowns at the smiley face at the end. For a self-styled writer, the man seems to have a knack for clichés. But what does BYOS mean? And what is the Temple of Baal?

Before any of those questions could be answered, her ears pick up at the roaring of an approaching car. One look at the driveway confirms her suspicions. She quickly places the card where she found it and resumes her chore.

“I’m back.” Alex booms. “Done with your work, ****?”

A chill ripples through Elena’s spine.