The mansion is nice...but I've seen better. From the pinkish-white sand, and the crystal-clear water of Paulee's private island. To Macey's castle planted firm on top of the mountains, surrounded by pine, and the grey of looming clouds. I had been her little prince there, flaunted in blue diamonds and emeralds. My collar was priceless! Too bad my contract hadn't lasted.
I clench the beige of my coat in tighter to my body. Mediocre, this was mediocre. Tugging the metal-suitcase behind me, I tilt my sunglasses to the bridge of my nose before removing them completely.
"It was the only option," I grumble to myself as I walk down the stoned pathway. When I get to the front door I knock firm and wait. "Plus, the contract was good..." The large door swings open, and before I can fully process what's happening, my body's encased in warm arms.
"Hajimemashite!" An Asian woman tugs me into the building with a sickeningly sweet smile etched deep into her lips. I have to force myself from twisting my own up in distaste.
"I'm Tamako," She sizes me up, starting from the crown of my head and then slowly dragging her eyes down my body. Once she gets to my feet, her head snaps back up and she stares at me with these unwavering black orbs. Her smile was gone. "Hmm, you're Ezra?" Narrowing my eyes a bit, I nod.
"I heard you were the pet of the Duchess, but then she annulled the year contract. Supposedly it only lasted for a month?" I grip the handle of my suitcase before releasing the cushion padding in favor of folding my arms across my chest.
"And that's your business why?" She cocks a grin opening her mouth to rebuttal, but before she can, another interrupts with a small tsk. My head tilts up towards the banister.
"Koi, what are you doing?" The other woman has her hair cropped to her chin in a black wavy bob. She glides down the stairs like an angel riding the waves of chaos. Stunning really. I feel my aura blip in excitement.
"Mistress Noma." Tamako says while bowing her head and shooting the woman a pointed smile.
"Go on up sugar and give Eleanor the news on her new plaything." The girl flicks her long straight hair over her shoulder and begins to climb the stairs. But before she can make it past the Dominatrix, her arm is caught, and her body is tugged down. She falls to her knees with glazed eyes and the look of devotion swirling through her obsidian irises. Noma tugs her head up and whispers into her ear while raking her hands through the girl's tresses. She nods up the stairs and Tamako moans softly while running up the last few steps and down the hall in haste. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from commenting.
"So, number three," I push my presence out without permission and the woman chuckles letting me prod at hers for a few minutes.
"Are you planning on staying?" I shrug.
"If it benefits me." Noma smiles wolfishly.
"It will.
°♡°
It has been five days since I've moved into Eleanor's mansion, and I already have an enemy. Tamako fucking Furukawa. I hate her, absolutely despise her. I want her gone, and I want her gone now. She has this type of aura which reminds me of nails on a chalkboard, and she always hovers and clings to Noma. Plus, she reminds me of this girl I used to know when I had been involved in shady business. Darlene. The client snatcher, just like Tamako. God, she's absolutely annoying.
"Pet?" I blink a few times before my eyes begin focusing on the dom. I go to stretch my legs, but the chains wrapped around the paleness of my ankles keep me immobile. A small sigh trickles from the back of my throat.
"Yes sir?" The man rakes his fingernails over my pinkened nipples, and I grunt as the flesh stings pleasantly. He shakes his head with this wicked look on his face.
"Am I boring you?" He twists one of the rosebuds between his fingers and I jerk on the bed whining at the pressure.
"No sir!" A small kiss gets planted on my shoulder and then rough fingers begin trailing down my chest, lower and lower until they disappear under the band of my panties.
°♡°
"Ezra?" I jump in front of the mirror snatching up one of the blankets from my bed to drape it across the purplish bruises. I shoot Noma a smile while crossing my arms.
"Haven't you heard of knocking?' The woman slinks into the room while shutting the door behind her with a soft click. I can feel myself swallowing down a million nerves, anxiety, desperation, fear. Flickering my eyes towards the only escape, I force a laugh out while unconsciously dragging the blanket closer to my body.
"Let me see." She says.
"See what?" Noma frowns and then lunges for the blanket ripping it from my death grip and letting the material pool to the floor. She winces as if the bruises are imprinted on her body and not mine.
"What the fuck?" She demands catching my wrist and twisting the appendage under the light of the bedroom. I try tugging it out of her grip, but that only makes her hold on tighter.
"Who did this?" I clamp my mouth shut.
"Who!" She shakes me a bit and the thunderous tone in her voice makes the submissive in me go absolutely haywire. I feel my knees go weak, forcing me to ground, but Noma hooks her arms under my armpits and tugs me into the warmth of her arms, into the crook of her neck. She smells of expensive perfume, sandalwood, and warm honey. I bury in deeper and she just soothes, as usual, rubbing my back-whispering calm words in my ears. My resolve crumbles.
"It's okay Ezra, you can tell me, I'm sorry." I cry into her shoulder as I spill name after name into the meat of her body.
It's not even two days later, and Mistress Buchanan has changed the contract requirements. At the top of every sheet in red bold letters is: NO MARKS, NO ABUSE, SAFE WORD REQUIRED. And now background checks are a thing too.
°♡°
We're all at this charity ball to raise money for this organization or something, I'm not really sure what the name is, but its another ball. This is my sixth ball, and the magic I once felt has completely run dry, now I'm not really a fan. Having all these suitors and potential customers constantly testing my aura with their own is tiring, especially when I have to keep my output regulated and minimized. Plus, it's always the same thing! Rich people flaunting their wealth, nothing exciting ever happening. I lift the wine glass to my lips and sip from the deep crimson.
"How boring is this?" I peek at the person next to me and let a small gasp out. He was gorgeous. I sip from the glass again.
"Extremely, these events begin to dull my enthusiasm." The man raises his hand calling the bartender over with blinding white teeth. I follow the motions he makes with careful eyes.
"I'm *********," He holds out a hand towards me and I scoff into my cup with humor. How ironic was that? I place my hand into his large palm and the man lifts the back of my hand to plant a sultry sweet kiss to the skin. My heart drums across my chest. "And you?"
"Ezra...Ezra Wellington."
"Ezra Wellington." He repeats, and somewhere deep down I enjoy the way my name rolls off his tongue
°♤°
No, no, no. This was not happening. I pound on Noma's door until the woman swings it open with tired eyes and rumpled hair. Clutching onto her arms I sob something ugly, with my eyes burning and my throat swelling. Noma seems to wake up immediately, brown eyes full of concern.
"It's in the news! Someone put it on the news." I scream, clenching my fingers over my eyes. The woman panics shaking her head wildly, sending the strands of her hair flying over the long curve of her lashes. "Why does my past keep coming back to haunt me?"
"Ezra it's okay, we're going to fix it—"
"Fix it? We can't fix this!" I boom shoving the woman away. I dig my fingernails into the meat of my arm and begin pacing. My life was over, my stable life which I just obtained was going to be pried from my fingers, and then where would I be. Back on the streets, shaking a leg on Forbes. And now that my face was becoming more relevant more known...maybe I wouldn't even get paid, maybe people would just take.
"Ezra..."
"I'm a whore and now everyone knows it. Everyone...even *********. Fucking hell!" Noma licks her lips and disappears into her room for a few minutes, and then comes back out dressed in a coat and some shoes. She hands over a phone and pets down my cheek letting her fingers linger.
"I'm going to fix it, I'm going to fix everything." She leaves me there in the hall after that, with red eyes and a snotty face. I should have known something like this was bound to happen, how could I not? I shiver to myself clutching my arms with my nails deeply penetrating the skin. Small beads of blood well around the C's of my nails flooding into the space underneath them. And I wait, and wait, and wait. For my title of Ezra Wellington S rank male submissive to change into Ezra Wellington the whore, the prostitute, the nobody.
°♤°
A year after the incident doesn't really do much to tame the press and the media, I'm still on all the front covers of BDSM Magazines, the Leather Prints, and Whipped. But, I only think that's because of Irene milking the story for all it's worth. I guess I deserved it... in a sick twisted way. Maybe this is my punishment.
My numbers in potential contractors have taken a tumble to super-low numbers, and the need for skin-to-skin contact, demands, and someone to care for me has plagued my mind like a virus. I want so badly, so very badly, and I know I'm becoming touch starved. Noma seems to be very worried about me, and in a sense, she should be. I feel like I'm trapped in a dark room where no one can hear me, where no one notices or even sees me. Like I'm nothing. The thought of being completely ignored panics me and floods my thoughts with dark things. Very dark things.
I hold the contract from ********* close to my chest while sniffling into the cushion of the couch. This was from last year before the incident, before I had a media title. Sometimes I wonder to myself if he still wants me to be his sub, if he'll still let me take him on his offer. Maybe not anymore, not after everything. Grounding my teeth, I scream into the pillow until my voice grows hoarse and begins cracking. God, I really fucked everything up. Fucked up my family, fucked up multiple chances at happiness, fucked up a relationship before it even was one.
I whimper to myself in search of a comforting source, anything, but as usual, I have nothing. No one. If I had been quiet all those years ago, maybe my life wouldn't be so fucked now, yeah I would have been messed up in the head...but at least I'd have a seemingly happy family. A seemingly good life, at least to the outside world peeking in. The door creaks open and I pounce up scrubbing the tears from my face, sure the skin under my eyes is red. Tamako excitedly bounds into the room, calling over her shoulder as she motions to everything with absolute adoration. I look towards the door frame and two pairs of eyes catch mine.
"Ezra these are the new play members, Ophelia and William."
"Will." The boy corrects sweeping his eyes over the room. Tamako giggles shaking her head which causes the long ponytails to flutter.
"Ophelia is an S ranked Sub and her brother is an S ranked Switch." Oh? I lock my eyes on the boy and the deep hunger for companionship ebbs just a bit. Maybe, maybe I didn't have to be so alone.
~~~~
A/n
*THIS TAKES PLACE IN THE PAST*
Part 1 of Ezra's life at the mansion. If anyone is wondering, he was super young when he moved into the mansion like 16-17 issh. The way it's set up is each scene break is a specific event in which Ezra tells Amanita, which is why it jumps around so much because he is choosing what to tell her and what not to her. Which is why he doesnt mention the name of the man he met but instead filters that info with *********. I kept it in first person cause I want Amanita to picture herself in the shoes of Ezra while he's telling snipets of his life.
Sorry if it's a bit confusing 😅🕴🏾