You tell her you own her

You watched the panic settle into her face and felt the familiar click of opportunity. She was already half-broken from the office, still tasting the aftermath of what you’d done to her, and now the only proof she had of the job was gone. That made her perfect.

You stepped in close, voice low enough that no one walking past the cars would hear.

“You want the role that badly?”

She nodded too fast. “Yes. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything is a dangerous word.” You reached into your jacket, pulled out your phone, and unlocked it. “Here’s how this works from now on. You’re not getting another letter. You’re not getting a call from my assistant. You’re getting me. Every time I text, you answer within five minutes. Every time I tell you to come to my office, my car, or my place, you come. No excuses. No delays. If I decide I want to use your mouth on my lunch break, you show up and open it. If I want to bend you over my desk after hours, you bend. If I want to film it, you smile for the camera. You belong to me until I say otherwise. In return, the role stays yours and the paperwork stays buried in my drawer. Break the rules once and I burn the letter, call the director, and make sure every casting office in town knows you’re unreliable. Clear?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. The last scraps of that earlier cockiness were gone. She looked at the phone in your hand like it was a leash. “Yes,” she whispered. You typed a single contact into her phone under a neutral name, then sent a test message. Her screen lit up immediately.

“Good girl,” you said. “Now get in the car.”

She didn’t ask which car. She just followed when you unlocked the doors and slid into the passenger seat without another word. The second the doors closed, the air inside felt different charged, final. You didn’t drive off right away. Instead you reached over, took her chin in your hand, and turned her face toward you.

“From this moment on, you’re not negotiating. You’re not offering deals. You’re property. My property. When I want your holes, I take them. When I want you on your knees in a parking structure, you drop. When I decide to loan you out to a director or a producer who can help your career, you go with a smile and you do whatever they ask. You will never tell anyone about the letter, about this arrangement, or about what happens when we’re alone. Understand?”

Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes, but she nodded.

You released her chin and put the car in gear. “Then prove it. Unzip me and get to work while I drive. We’re going to my place. You’re spending the night. And every night after that until I get bored.”

She didn’t hesitate this time. Her hands moved to your belt with practiced obedience, the last of her resistance crumbling under the weight of what she had just agreed to become.