HMBC: Commitment

By Lillian Jean Daub

Jo Rogers seems to have it all. A beautiful condo, a success for book career, and enough trauma for a dozen people. After her most recent failed suicide attempt she decides that she needs to make a change and maybe deal with what happened to her at the hands of her mistress. She reaches out to gentleman who needs a fresh start as much as she does. Hoping that his years of helping people through their trauma will finally help her through hers. Follow Jo as she attempts to change her life while still embracing the submissive that she was and will always be inside.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781716681837

Book preview

mind.

Part One: Edwin Michael Ryder

Chapter One

It was the smell. The acrid stench of the disinfectant that they used on the padded walls that registered first. The small gag at the back of her throat making it impossible for her to stay unconscious. Then the aches and the pain in her arms. They had restrained her, not that she blamed them. She vaguely remembered fighting as she was dragged out of her bathroom. They had kept her alive, again.

The cold tears rolling down her face were the next symptom that she wasn’t going to get to stay in the state of willful ignorance of the world around her. Jo had to face the day and what she had done, again. She called out, the echo familiar in the chamber, Hello? Dr. Millar? Vi? Her voice was hoarse and raw.

The door opened, but Jo didn’t lift her head to see who it was. Doing that hurt and was awkward. The lecture would start soon, and she would know which of her two keepers would start and which would finish the lecture she deserved to receive.

Are you trying to ruin me, Kiddo?

Fuck. It was Eden. Wasn’t my intention, she responded coldly to the owner of the publishing house that she was contracted with. But you know me. When I go, I go for gold.

This isn’t a joke, Eden growled at her.

Jo turned her head to look at her. Dressed in a power suit of dark grey with blood red accents stood Eden Ryan. Her ginger hair cut short in a feminine pixie cut that let her green eyes bore holes into Jo. You think I find this fun?

I don’t know anymore, Eden growled and stomped her designer heels on the padded floor, grunting as the effect was lost. I don’t know what you want anymore.

Jo tried to raise her hands, her dark humor winning over good sense. Well, I thought it was pretty obvious what I want, but I forgot, she chuckled, mirthlessly, My life has never been about what I want.

Melodrama? Here? Now? Eden went to stamp her foot again. Damn it, Jo. I don’t know what to do with you. I’m this, she held her hands up with her thumb and index finger barely apart, Close to dropping your contract. This close, Kiddo.

I can walk into any publishing house and get picked up. How is this a threat? Jo snapped back. We both know I signed with you out of pity. That I’m your biggest client and without me? Ha, you don’t have a publishing company. So, fuck off. She knew better than to taunt Eden, but she couldn’t help herself.

I’m done, Jo. So is Millar and Violet. You keep putting us through this. Eden backed up to the wall and leaned against it. God damn it, Jo. You think we don’t see you suffering? That we don’t see how… how fucked up the situation is? But you must work with us and stop fighting us. Stop…

Cutting into the flesh on my arms, she thought to herself. I know, she replied, subdued. I don’t want to… except… More fat tears rolling down her cheeks. More feeling sorry for herself. More hating herself for doing this again. I’m sorry.

Stop being fucking sorry and do something about it. Eden stood up and walked back to the door of the room and left.

Jo had no choice but to stay where she was staring at the ceiling until they released her. She had no choice other than wallow in the swamp of her life. She was trapped. Like always.

***

Her arms itched, and she pulled at the arm warmers that seemed very out of season. It was another sweltering day in a summer that was already providing to be a very hot season. She was fresh out of the hospital. The smells still lingering on her flesh and catching her at odd moments.

Violet, her personal assistant and housekeeper reached over and smacked her hands like she was an errant child. I’m chain mittens on your hands, she threatened in her deep voice. Stop scratching.

Jo took a breath and folded her hands in her lap. Snapping at Violet would not help the current situation and she would end up with some god-awful mittens, probably knitted with extra scratchy wool, on her hands. Violet didn’t make empty threats.

Violet was a large woman, dwarfing Jo’s slender and small frame. They were a study in contrasts. Jo with her light brown, stick straight hair that was lifeless and pale skin that made her look almost translucent at times. Compared to the rich darkness of Violet’s skin and dark kinky hair worn naturally in a fro. Jo was boring and mundane while Violet was color and excitement.

They were sitting in the lobby of HMBC Publishing House, LLC waiting for a meeting with Eden Ryan. Jo had taken the last 72 hours and thought hard about what Eden had told her. It was time for her to take control of this monster that was wrecking her life.

Dr. Millar, her Psychologist was pacing the lobby. He had taken her proposal well, especially since it was basically an outline on how he was failing her recovery. That she needed something more. He had agreed, realizing this for himself long before she had to tell him.

The receptionist stood up and nodded at them. The threesome followed her into a conference room and sat down. Jo sat down, the walk tiring her as everything did now. Violet went to the coffee stand and started making Jo a cup, while hemming and hawing over the danishes. Dr. Millar sat down and pulled out his own folder of notes and things, trying to smile at Jo. He was more nervous than she was, and she gave a real smile at that. Violet put the danish and coffee in front of Jo before sitting down and pulling out their props for the presentation. They were all ready when Eden walked with Preston, the Social-Science Editor.

Ms. Rodgers, Eden greeted her, taking her seat at the head of the table. You said you had something to pitch me.

Preston didn’t know, so she was going to have to be careful yet get her point across to Eden. It was a complication she hadn’t expected. Jo stood up using the table for support. Violet held out a sheet of paper for Jo to take. A Case Study, she began, Started by Dr. Millar and finished by, she walked around the table and put down the paper she was holding in front of Eden, Dr. Edwin Ryder. A specialist in… sexual assault trauma.

Uh-huh. And does this Dr. Edwin Ryder know that he is writing a Case Study? Eden looked directly at her, daring her to say everything out loud and in front of Preston. And I am assuming you are the Case Study?

Jo nodded. "That’s the idea. He specializes in… one on one intense therapy. I propose that, if you accept my proposal, that we give him six-month unlimited access to me and let him… diagnose me without interference from Dr. Millar or any of my other therapists. I will provide a place for him to live and work and after six months, he and Dr. Millar work together to write the case up."

Case studies, Preston started, pushing up the glasses that had started to slide down his nose, Are only interesting if the person is famous or the situation is—

Full access? Eden put the paper down and looked fully at Jo. "And how do you know that he will want full access?"

Jo pulled herself tall and reached over to Violet, who was shaking her head as she pulled out another packet of papers. She added them to the pile in front of Eden. Dr. Ryder has written many papers on, she coughed, stalling for a second, Deviant sexual behaviors and—

Preston, leave the room, Eden ordered, eyes locked on Jo. Close the door.

Preston wrinkled his lip and huffed, leaving the room and closing the door a little harder than he needed to.

You want to what? she snarled, grabbing the papers and throwing them at the wall. He’s not a member. He’s got no bonafides and you don’t even know if he’ll want the job or you.

He’ll want the job, Jo pushed out, her heart throbbing hard in her chest. He’s… he’s had a bit of a set back and he’s looking for a chance to redeem himself. And as for him wanting me, all indications—

All indications? Eden sneered.

You’re right. I can’t prove anything, but damn, Eden, this is my shot. Jo pulled at the wrist warmers. I’ve already tried to get on his radar. I’ve already tried, but this will get his attention. He won’t be able to pass it up. She scratched at her forearms. I’ve been thinking about this for a while and with things—

Eden, she really has— Dr. Millar tried to inject, and she cut him off with a look.

Violet, you are okay with this? Eden demanded.

I ain’t okay with any of it, she answered evenly, the only calm one in the room, But I see Baby Girl’s point. You told to get her shit together and she is. I think we need to listen to her.

Eden turned back to Jo. Are you sure?

Jo nodded. The book will sell, no matter what happens to me. And if he can heal me, then he can.

Leave the proposal. I’ll let you know when I send the query and if he accepts. Otherwise, you better be on your deadlines and no more incidents. One incident and I cancel this book. Understood?

Jo nodded. Yes, ma’am.

Alright, let’s work out the details, Eden said, eyeing Jo with respect but with a bit of worry, too.

***

Ed groaned at the knock on his door, digging himself further into the bedclothes figuring they would go away when he didn’t answer the door. He was wrong. At first, he was imagining it, but it was like clockwork. Every two minutes a polite three knock pound on the door. He timed it, realizing that the person had been there almost twenty minutes at this point. He got out of bed and stumbled to the door. Lawyer, he thought. More papers of people suing him. He opened the door, bare chested and in boxers while he scratched the back of his head. Yeah?

Dr. Edwin Ryder? asked the woman wearing a suit standing on his dirty welcome mat. She was tall, which surprised him because he also noted her Asian features. He wasn’t sure exactly what her ancestry, but her accent was American and educated.

Ed looked over his shoulder at the boxes that held all his diplomas and other things from his office, still packed from when he had been fired. Yeah.

I have an offer for you, if you want to discuss it. A job offer. The woman smiled but stood still with her briefcase held in front of her and in heels that were at least four inches high, Ed guessed.

A job offer? he snorted, scratching his chest. Come in. He stepped back, and the woman walked in as if walking into a palace and not his dump of an apartment. To call it a mess was an understatement. The kitchen was covered in dirty dishes and take out trash intermixed with a collection of liquor bottles. He kicked the debris of clothes and trash off a path to a couch and cleared it for his guest. I’m going to go put on some clothes. Make yourself comfortable.

Ed left the living room and trudged back to his bedroom. Looking at his closet, he realized that he had nothing clean. With a sigh, he grabbed the least smelly shirt off the floor and a mostly clean pair of jeans. He ran his fingers through his dark shaggy hair before returning to the living room. May I offer you some water? he asked and received a very polite shake of her head. He sat down in one of the chairs that was off to the side of the couch.

In his absence, the woman had cleared his coffee table and laid out several things. A book, a Case Study written by a Dr. Al Millar. Several file folders laid out with pens next to them and a tablet that was sitting directly in front of her. If I may, Dr. Ryder? she asked.

Sure, he replied, nervous.

An offer. To write the second half of a case study with Dr. Millar, she began, picking up the book and handing it to Ed. He’s a renowned Doctor who is known for his in-depth studies. He’s run into a patient that is a unique challenge and feels like you are the person to help her overcome her challenges.

Ed opened the book and flipped through it. Looks like his specialty is eating disorders and depression? He had heard the name and had even read the book in his hands. And what kind of case does he need my help with?

Your specialty is Sexual Trauma and Relationships, correct? The woman reached down and opened one of her file folders. It was a printout of his professional resume. You’ve written several papers and contributed to several books with your work. She picked it up. The patient is… recovering from… well, it’s delicate.

Delicate? He snorted at her. Well, I’m guessing that she was… taken advantage of and is now dealing with those consequences? He knew he was mocking her speech patterns and that it was probably going to cost him a job, but it felt good. He hated it when people dance around the situation. She was raped, I’m guessing, badly and in interesting circumstances if she rates a book. So, the offer is what? I read her files and then add my thoughts?

Not exactly. Intense one on one therapy with the patient and then collaborating with Dr. Millar to complete the book. We are looking at a 6-month time frame, in which you will be housed with the patient and interact with her on an… intimate basis as you work with her. Another three to four months, we are willing to go up to six months, which would put your commitment to this at one year. She looked down and opened several folders until she found the one she was looking for. And a substantial forward for your time as well as residuals from the book. She handed him the folder and he opened it.

Ed nearly dropped the folder. Are you sure that this figure is correct?

I am, the woman responded without breaking eye contact with Ed. She picked up a second folder and handed it to him. The contract. Half upon signing and half upon confirmation after you fly out and met the patient. We are willing to give you 30 days to wrap up affairs here. If you have expenses, we will provide a company card and account for you to charge any moving/storage expenses. Travel will of course be covered by the company as well.

Do the words, too good to be true, mean anything to you? He put the folder down. What’s the catch?

The woman started to pack up her things. I would suggest you read the fine print, Dr. Ryder. She closed her bag and stood up. This isn’t an easy case. But we think you are up to the challenge and are worth every penny we are offering you. She pulled out a card and handed it to him. We would like an answer in 72 hours.

Ed took the card and walked the woman to the door. He opened it and she walked out. She turned around before leaving on the other side of the welcome mat. Dr. Ryder, this may be out of line, but I want to say this. Jo is special to us and we will do whatever we need to make her better. This is an amazing offer that we will not make again and considering your current situation, one I don’t believe you can turn down. It was a pleasure to meet you, sir. She turned and left then, heels clicking on the concrete walkway.

Backing into his apartment, Ed closed the door. The card was simple. Her name: Ling Li, her title: Relationship Manager, and the name of the publishing company: HMBC Publishing, LLC with contact information. A cell phone, office line and email. He sat back down in his chair and put the card in the folder with the offer.

It rattled him that she had been right. His bills were past due, and he owed court fees and medical bills. He couldn’t pass on that much money, but he would make her wait for his answer. 71 hours, he thought.

***

When the news came, it was a text. A flight number and time. Very simple. Jo stared at her phone, mostly in disbelief.

In the two months that she had been waiting to find out whether he would take the job or not, she had tried not to think about it. Think about how this felt like her only chance. Dr. Millar had danced around it as well, trying not to feel like a total failure when it came to her. She knew deep in her heart that she would not be here to take this chance if it wasn’t for him.

Violet was in the main condo, fussing with college applications and financial aid paperwork for her grandsons when Jo stepped through the door and coughed to get her attention. Violet turned and look at her, shoulders out and ready for battle, Yes, Baby Girl?

Jo recited the text, quietly.

So, he agreed? What tricks did the Witch pull on him? Violet demanded, abandoning the college paperwork to advance on Jo.

Jo shook her head.

You gonna have to talk, she warned. Are you sure? He’s a stranger and you ain’t even sure he’s into…

I’m sure, Jo breathed out, looking Violet dead in the eyes. I can’t live like this anymore and I can’t live without it. She held her arms out, enclosed in arm warmers even though it was over 90 degrees outside. I have to do something.

I know, she said resigned, leaning on a wall and crossing her arms. I just want to manage your hopes. He might not be the miracle you think he will be.

Vi? Jo asked, putting her arms down. If he’s not then… I’m not giving up. I want you to know that. I’m fighting every day. Every moment. And if… I want you to know, Franklin and Roosevelt won’t need to worry about paying for school and things. And you, I’ve taken care of you, too.

Baby Girl, I done told you that…

The boys need to earn their education. I know. But I can help them, and I want to help them. The argument was an old one and Jo was tired of having it, just like she was tired of just about everything. You and those boys are the closest thing I have to family. Give me this, please? She felt the tear roll down her cheek. I need to have this.

Violet pulled her into a hug. You ain’t right in the head, Baby Girl, but damn if I don’t love you anyways. Violet let her go and stepped back. I’m have Franklin pick him up and get the master bedroom ready for him.

Jo nodded, ready to step back into her cocoon and hide. Okay. She didn’t, taking a deep breath and steadying herself. Thank you. For everything.

Nah. We’re family. And you pay well, Violet laughed. Now go on. But the door stays open and I’ll be checking in on you.

Jo nodded, retreating to her inner sanctum. She sank back down to the floor at her coffee table in the living room area of the little apartment, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She could do little more than wait and hope the butterflies didn’t get any worse.

Chapter Two

I rarely have to explain myself anymore, she whispered more to herself than the gentleman that she was addressing. She had just taken the seat he had offered her, still taken aback by her early morning appearance at the condo door just hours after he had landed. Josephine Rodgers had been wrestling with her latest challenges and how to start one of the hardest conversations that she ever thought she’d have, again. Harder than the investigations after Sarah. Harder than when she had to beg, truly beg, to keep from becoming homeless. Once Jo had made a commitment, she had yet to fail in her absolute conviction to complete a task, even when it almost cost her life. This was just another test, she kept telling herself, just another test.

Edwin Michael Ryder looked exactly like the photo that was on his website He was the average American White Guy with brown hair that was nearly black, and soulful brown eyes that had yet to glimpse the horrors inside her. He was as normal as they come and that was exactly what she needed.

I’m sorry, he stammered at her, I thought I was meeting Eden and her team later today at the office. I wasn’t expecting to start interviewing yet.

Jo shook her head trying to stay focused. "Of course. But as it stands, you don’t need to meet with Eden. You’ve already signed the contract and I’m the case study. There is no need to delay as the project has already been delayed too much." She cleared her throat. Critics had hailed her as a natural storyteller from her first book, but now faced with the possibility of telling her entire life story to a stranger, there were no words coming to her. She felt strange and uncomfortable sitting on the couch, dressed as if this was business meeting because it was a business meeting.

Edwin, on the other hand, looked like he was about to go do yard work and drink beer with ‘The Boys’ in his ripped jeans, t-shirt with a pop culture reference that alluded Jo and flip-flops. She hated men in flip-flops. Something about them just made her spine crawl in the most unpleasant way. He stood up and gestured at the corporate looking apartment that they were in. I was happy at the Days Inn. I didn’t need a three-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. Or the car that picked me up at the airport. Or the luxury SUV that I was given keys too as well. I just don’t understand what all this fuss is about. And then you show up at the door this morning and tell me… I’m not even sure.

Jo stood up, realizing that she was dangerously close to screwing up. Panic was starting to overwhelm her and that would lead her down the anxiety path that she didn’t want to walk down anymore. She sank to her knees, needing to think and she knew that she could still her mind if she just had a moment. She closed her eyes and took a slow breath.

She heard him suck in a breath just as she released hers, then there was silence. It echoed through her mind and from him. Her heart was still beating too fast, but the panic was starting to ebb. She had avoided that path for now.

What are you doing? Edwin Ryder finally said in the hushed tones of someone demanding answers but still wanting to keep the secret.

Her answer was immediate, Kneeling. She stayed perfectly still, relaxed in a way that only someone trained could do. She could kneel for hours and happily did. This was her happy place. A place where she didn’t have to worry about what others thought or cared about.

I don’t understand. She heard him walking, the annoying sound of flip-flops slapping bare feet. Then the sound stopped, and she knew without opening her eyes that he was standing in front of her. What is this about?

Jo had recovered her equilibrium; it was time for her to speak again. That’s why I’m here. To make sure that you understand what this project is really about. She swallowed, opening her eyes and looking up at Edwin. I chose you to be the co-author of this case study, my case study because of the trauma work that you do. Also, your stance on BDSM and fetish play as it relates to the trauma. She took another deep breath. Both Dr. Millar and I agreed that you should hear the complete story from me, first, without his influence. To form your own thoughts and theories. To work with me without interference. And to do that, I should, in essence belong to you as part of the contract for the term of the contract.

He was watching her, his brown eyes twinkling with apprehension. What? I thought I was just here to rubberstamp and offer counterpoint. This isn’t what I agreed to.

Jo swallowed, everything threatening to crumble. I can talk to Eden, if you want. I don’t want you here if you don’t want to be here. Her voice caught in her throat. Even though she knew it wasn’t rejection or displeasure with her, it still registered the same way with bile in the back of her throat. He could never hurt her in the ways that Sarah had perfected. Always Sarah, standing there over her. Watching her. Ready to take away every shred of happiness she would ever have. All her self-doubt and hate slammed into her like a professional boxer’s best left hook. The horror and sorrow of what happened to her and Daniel at the hands of that woman still real and present. Here she was now, being given away again like a gift that no one wanted in the first place. No one wanted her, and no one would ever again. Sarah had won in the end and she was broken.

Ms. Rodgers? Edwin asked her, and it barely registered through the panic that was moments away from taking her away.

This was why she had chosen him for this honor. She was broken. He was an expert at putting people back together. That’s what he did. What he wrote best-selling books about. She sat back up on her heels, not realizing that she had gone down into the prostate position used for begging forgiveness. Her eyes were still cast to the floor. She took a breath and finished her statement. I’m a sexual submissive and have been for as long as I have been sexually active, she began. And I’ve read your books on trauma, especially how… how those who practice BDSM or have relationships based on it, are just replaying the trauma. She swallowed. I’ve been under the care of Dr. Millar for a little over two years now and… and I’m… I want to get better but I’m not… I’m not like your other case studies. I want to get better, that’s why I agreed to this. I’m to tell you my story so that you can come to your own conclusion. It wasn’t as elegant as the speech she had worked through in her head, but it got the point across. There was silence for a few heartbeats and once again she was back there with Joshua at the beginning of the end. She wanted to cry and beg, but he wouldn’t understand.

When he spoke it wasn’t the question she was expecting, Where did you go? Just then. He was still standing in front of her, looking down at her.

A memory, she swallowed the bile still there in the back of her throat. A bad one.

A cautionary tale? He chuckled, then walked away. Tell me.

She nodded, doing her best to stay calm. The panic was too close, too real. "I guess a good place to start is the beginning of the end with Joshua. Josh traveled a lot for business leaving me and his other submissive alone…

Jo leisurely strolled into the sterile metal kitchen. She ignored Danny, opening the fridge and pulling out everything that he had just finished putting away. She placed all the items on the freshly wiped counter and proceeded to fix herself a sandwich, throwing the crumbs everywhere. She had spent the latter part of the day in the park with Phillip and couldn’t wait until tomorrow for another secret meeting. She thought that nothing could ruin her mood.

So, what’s going on Danny? she asked, hopping up on one of the cold metal counters to eat her sandwich.

The master’s home and he’s looking for you. Danny sighed, dropping what had been the last of the dirty dishes in the dishwater and turning to face her. And you’ll get three times the beating if he catches you in that sundress.

Joshua’s not due back until next week. Jo bit into the sandwich and a tomato flopped to the floor. She shrugged her shoulders and left it there for Danny to clean up.

Well, he’s home early. Danny’s wide shoulders sagged, not in the mood to deal with Jo. He’s in the parlor waiting for you. And Jo, don’t piss him off anymore, he’s in a foul mood. Danny turned back to his pots and pans and started to scrub.

He beat you, didn’t he? she chuckled. Did ya yelp?

Jo, Go! He continued to scrub the pot while Jo hopped off the counter, sandwich forgotten on the now smudged surface, her body rubbing against his back and her arms snaking around his waist.

Was it a long beating? she cooed, fingers finding his crotch. Did you enjoy the feel of the whip on your bare ass?

He tried to ignore her and concentrate on the pots and pans. Jo started to rub and stroke his cock through his dress pants and it immediately responded to her touch. The beating had been just that, a beating and nothing more. Danny was still wound up awaiting release and she was going to use that to her advantage.

Oh, that’s a big boy. Watch it now, you don’t want to cum in those nice pants. Her hand slipped under the waistband. Danny tried to jerk away.

Jo, don’t do this. Danny gripped the sink to steady himself. Her hand closed around his still stiffing cock. Her thumb starting to agitate the tip. Stop! he commanded starting to pant.

Jo pressed herself tighter against him getting into the best position to pump his cock. That little strapping got you hot, huh, Danny. This wasn’t the first time that they had played this game of chicken and Jo usually found a way to win.

Danny grabbed her arm and tried to yank her hand out of his pants, but she held on tight. Her second hand snaked down into his pants and grabbed his balls and started to message them. He tried to push her off him as he felt his orgasm building, but she had him too well braced against the counter. She knew exactly how to play him, how to touch him in all the right ways.

Come on, Joey, stop, he panted, caught in that in between moment of desire and wanting to not get into more trouble. He knew that he was going to lose and bucked hard as he came, biting off a moan of pleasure.

Jo backed up, giggling, as Danny regained his breath. Did you have a little accident in your pants? She licked off the few drops of cum that had gotten on her fingers. He spun.

She staggered backwards from the slap. How dare you?! she screamed, hand going to her left cheek.

Danny grabbed her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair. How dare I? he bellowed, jerking her around. You little bitch. He dragged her out of the kitchen and down the short hallway that lead to the parlor. Why don’t you try your little tricks on the master! he screamed, throwing her through the doorway.

She tumbled onto the plush red carpet, then sprung to her feet. She screamed in rage and set herself to lunge at Danny.

Jo! Joshua snapped, springing up from his chair on the other side of the room. Don’t you dare!

She wanted nothing more than to go after Danny for ruining her mood, but he had tried to warn her, and she hadn’t listened. Joshua’s quick commands were already working their magic on her and she had no choice but to obey. She took a deep breath, then turned to face him. Welcome home, sir, she whispered, desperately running scenarios to explain herself to him in her head.

He stormed up to her, stopping inches from her face. Since when were you allowed to stand in my presence without permission?

She dropped to her knees in a practiced motion, then clasped her hands behind her back, her eyes floating to the floor directly in front of her. She knew that she needed to get her act together, stop making stupid mistakes.

Danny! Get in here!’ Joshua snapped, running his hands through his shaggy black hair. What was that about?" he demanded after Danny came to a rest beside Jo.

Danny slapped me, sir. Jo replied, daring to look up, grey eyes batting. She played her innocence as thick as she could, knowing it was the only thing that might save her.

After she made me cum in my pants, sir. I told her to report to you, but she gave me a hand job instead, Danny explained, cold and emotionally distant. He always could separate his feelings where Jo was cursed by them.

Finish your chores. I’ll deal with you later. You’re dismissed, Danny, Joshua commanded. Danny leaned forward and kissed Joshua’s boots before scurrying out of the room.

Joshua started to pace in front of Jo.

The silence in the room was deafening.

They both heard the water stop running in the kitchen after the