±1±
Mistress Athena’s clients kept New Aeterna’s lights on 9a.m. -7p.m. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Friday-Sunday.
The real money though? The way we paid the investors back? Was with our real asset. New York City real estate.
New Aeterna offers a safe meeting space for sex positivity and kink. We rent out our space at a premium to small sex clubs looking for places to hold seminars, workshops and parties. It is a place where sexual expression is encouraged but intercourse is not. Groups can upgrade and have access to the dungeons and all the equipment for a play party, the dungeons are small but there is room for people to do public scenes or get creative with their own gear.
When we opened SoHo was trendy enough that we were bombarded with rental requests. We charged a comparable $2,500-$6,000 dollars for four hours. We offered a very limited bar service for events—sometimes we hired kids from the city shelters to work the bar, but mostly it was just Sera and I working 18 hour days.
In-between clients we rented the dungeon spaces to social media Doms/Dommes to make content or as a destination to bring their clients if they were doing a weekend experience. Sera always seemed particularly in awe of these 19 and 20-year-old women so assured in their place with their (usually) older clients.
We caught the tail end of the Fifty Shades of Gray boom and were able to book a substantial amount of themed bachelorette and birthday parties. We offered overpriced earl gray cocktails and hired Sven by the hour to be the party Dom and leave the guest with some harmless tips and ideas they could take back home.
That first summer my days started at 5 a.m. I got dressed, cleaned the apartment and packed Sera’s outfits for the day before starting breakfast at 6:30 a.m. By then Sera was usually up and on her morning run. Sera didn’t like me being the studio when she was with clients because they paid a premium ($200 per hour) for the private atmosphere. Instead I’d work on the business from home and occasionally monitor the high-definition security system.
When Sera was done with her clients I’d take the 45 minute train ride down to SoHo and we’d spend the rest of the night setting up for event rentals. After every event Sera and I would stay late to clean then catch the last train uptown. I’d get maybe 4 hours of sleep and do it all over again. Over and over and over again.
We did okay.
Our profit and loss statements were stable, but if we wanted to pay our investors back we were severely behind the mark. I was at a loss on how to do projections so I downloaded UBalance.
“This is UBalance. I came across it while working on my thesis”, I told Sera turning my laptop screen towards her. I’d come down to New Aeterna one afternoon to go over our finances. Excel and QuickBooks was no longer cutting it, “This software runs intricate data models.”
Sera squinted at the code on the screen then took a seat at the table height counter in New Aeterna’s lobby.
“…what’s your thesis on again?” She asked.
“Uh…how new technology and data modeling can change the landscape of forensic audits and accounting. Although I’ve been thinking about doing something about the long term effects of the fiscal cliff on social services and public goods…”
Sera turned her attention back to her bright purple energy drink and make-up case on the table. She leaned into the mirror and the asymmetrical lace skirt attached to her tight leather corset rose up her thighs. She was listening but focused on unsuccessfully putting on her eyelashes. Her red train case was by her side as she’d just gotten back from seeing a client in his luxury 55± community in Jersey City. He always sent a nice car to pick her up the station. He always tipped well when he wore those 5-inch red heels--
“Paris?” Sera called and I realized I’d lost my train of thought. My sexuality and feeling of attraction always felt like a fucking roller coaster. I’d go months not feeling an ounce of sexual attraction to anyone then a switch would flip.
“Uh...Yes?”
“Distracted?”
“Yes.” I said honestly meeting her eyes. There was thin line of lash glue running into her eyelids. She wiped it away and tried to put the eyelash on again.
Sera now completely got off on denying me sex or any pleasure that didn’t immediately benefit her. Sex and intimacy wasn’t an obligation to her anymore. It was the way she decided to have fun and connect with people. Or at least it was until the business took all her time. She was desperate and horney all the time just not desperate enough to fuck me. I didn’t deserve it and it wasn’t that fun for her. And Sera deserved to have the best. I love that she got to choose who she gave her body to and who made her feel good. It wasn’t always easy but I was happy to have to work hard to prove my worth to her. Earn something others got so easily.
“Paris?”
My eyes snapped up to her.
“Sorry?”
She laughed. It was deep and subdued. She was…amused. I’d been staring at her like an idiot, “You were saying something?”
“Uh…Yes.” I cleared my throat and went back to my laptop, “Anyway….I mapped organizational goals for New Aeterna’s first two quarters. We are doing well but for us to pay back out investors we needed to pull in $50,000 dollars in revenue every week for 18 months.”
“That’s impossible.” Sera said giving up on her eyelash and plugging in the coffee pot that also commuted from the apartment to the office, “I can barely keep track of the contracts as it is. There is too much paperwork and you’re going back to class in the fall.”
“The money is out there”, I said taking the tweezers and gently applying the eyelashes for her, “You don’t want January, Whittaker and Hamlin holding their investment over you. You don’t want them to get demanding do you?”
Sera cut her now perfectly framed eyes to me. If she didn’t want me stepping out of line she certainly didn’t want her wealthy clients to think they owned her because they’d financed New Aeterna
“Okay. How do we do this?”
“We push. We need to up charge for more involved kinks. I think we can push private outcalls up to $350 an hour. I know how wealthy some of those clients are. We can’t ever settle.”
Sera pushed herself to reach that $50,000 a week goal. She saw more clients in their homes or hotels which they loved but sometimes got us into trouble. We’d had to tangle with the cops a few times when angry spouses or nosy hotel managers would call. She’d been arrested for prostitution three times and each time I’d have to bring the contracts down and remind them of New York vice statues then they’d let her go.
Back then I had to remind myself that this business wasn’t just about the high-end high-paying clients. We wanted New Aeterna to be one of the few high-end dungeons in the city that openly welcomed the LGBTQ and genderqueer community. Sera made time in her schedule to offer deeply discounted queer sessions and once a month we had open houses with a pay-what-you-can model so more people could have access to quality equipment and space.
On the outside it was dirty, kinky, filthy and scandalous business to be in. But I saw the possibilities in what we were doing. BDSM is about pleasure, consent and trust—I was happy to be spreading that sex positive message in some small part. I actually got that warm accomplished altruistic feeling I used to get when I was headmaster at the Boy’s Home. I’d even get calls from physical rehabilitation centers and sex therapist that had patients interested in how bondage equipment and furniture could help them re-discover their sex lives.
I had to remember the good because by October we were sinking
±2±
Our next 2013 quarterly meeting was at 4am on a Thursday night in the apartment. Despite showering we both still smelled like the strong disinfectant we used to clean the dungeons after play parties. It had been a disastrous night. A few guest snuck in their own alcohol claiming it was part of their scene. I had to politely kick out a guy jerking off, then one of the guest had pulled me aside and just started scolding me because we didn’t offer space for private scenes. This guy had been pulled aside all night by other Doms because he was pushy and not respecting the subs. I’d been too tired to do anything but stand there while this fucker yelled at me
“Seriously, kid what the fuck kind of shitty place is this? Every establishment should offer private rooms I mean its common fucking knowledge”, He’d spat at me.
Sera must have seen the disruption on the security camera because she made her way out the backroom. What struck me is that she was wearing faded jeans and the same gray shirt she owned when I married her, her face was red and irritated from the make-up she’d scrubbed off. I could see the fury in her eyes, but hoped she wouldn’t get physical.
“What the fuck is your problem”, Sera had asked him.
The man had no problem turning his ire on her.
“Sweetheart, all I’m saying for the price you fucking cha—“
“I charge what is cost. You are a guest in my dungeon and you will follow my rules. Yelling and talking down to a sub especially my sub doesn’t make you a Dom it makes you a bully. We’re all here to have fun”, she had turned back to the other guest who were trying to get back into their scenes, “But seeing as you still need to learn the basics of respect you should probably see yourself out.”
“I am a gues—“
Sera’s tolerance for men not respecting her was at an all-time low. She’d turned her back to him, walked to the front door and held it open for him. The man had gathered his stuff and walked out.
“Go study”, Sera had said coming back to me, “I’ll say out here.”
I’d felt a little off balance as I walked to the back office. I should have been able to defend myself. Or at the very least the business. I was still thinking about it when Sera got out of the shower later that night.
“We’re behind financially”, I explained to Sera queuing up a slideshow as she climbed into bed. She still wore her old Harvard t-shirt to bed and beneath it I heard the faint buzzing of a cheap vibrator. She’d had a little bit of wine tonight but she smelled like hard liquor and mint.
“Why aren’t you dressed for bed?” she asked as I tugged on a clean black button up.
“It’s 4 a.m. I have a class in two hours. No point.” the black creased pants and shirt was same basic uniform I’d been wearing all day…well, yesterday.
“Maybe we don’t pay the investors back in 18 months” She said closing her eyes and opening her legs and adjusting to the vibrator’s thrum.
“But we can. We just need to get creative. I found this fetish wear catalog that is looking for unagented models for a shoot. It’s an easy five grand. I also figured you could take some MMA classes because there is an amateur lingerie wrestling league coming to New York in the spring and they like to recruit Dommes—“
“Really Paris?”
“It’s a legit league for female athletes and you wrestled in high school. Plus the payouts are like thousands of dollars.”
She rolled her eyes and turned off the vibrator.
“Do you remember Dom Hidalgo?” She asked.
“That crazy rich Dom with the sex resort in Florida.” I said like I wasn’t well aware of the tennis bracelet he’d given her after Alexxa sent her and few others down there to work at his exclusive BDSM resort. All I knew was he liked how challenging Sera was and she’d come back with a few well-tended to marks. She sometimes made me kiss the tennis bracelet whether it was wrapped around her wrist or ankle—it was another intentional reminder that I didn’t get to have her the way other men did. I didn’t get to fuck her, or date her or have the ability to buy beautiful trinkets like they did
“….he called me.” Sera said.
“Is Dom Hidalgo interested in investing…?”
“No”, she said smiling to herself, “he said he heard about New Aeterna and thought my little hobby was cute. He likes to play like that.”
If Sera had an issue with how domineering the Alpha Dom could be she never let it show. She loved his attempts to get her to be a nice quiet submissive. I could never tell how much of it was for sport and how much was his actual personality.
“Hidalgo’s coming to New York for his friend’s wedding and there is a bachelor’s party. Hidalgo said he didn’t know anyone in New York—total lie—but he needs a date and he heard I lived here.”
“Did you check your schedule?”
“No. That’s your job”, Sera said, “I was going to say no…but what if I asked him to pay me for my time. He’s filthy rich.”
I thought on this.
“You’re talking about escorting? I mean…there can’t be sex.”
She rolled her eyes, “I know. Plus, I’m way to out of shape to handle him. I could escort. The escorts at The Gilded Cage got thousands out of their clients.”
I opened my laptop back up and looked at the extrapolation charts in UBalance. We were behind and we needed money.
“Okay. How much do you think we can get for him for?”
±±±
The answer was $2,000 for the night. Hidalgo didn’t even put up a fight when Sera told him the price for the entire evening. In retrospect it was probably a low ball offer for a five-hour date. When Sera came home from her date she was drunk off her ass and tried to tip-toe past me on the couch where I was trying to get invoices done
“Look”, she slurred showing me a picture on her iPhone. It looked like the city lights from a high angle, “There was an after party in the Empire state building and afterwards we went to Times Square. It was so pretty, Paris. So many lights. You should see it.”
“Darling, you can’t drink like this. This is ….a job.”
She laughed and kicked off her shoes.
“I-I-I’ve been sitting outside drinking for two hours.”
She hadn’t gotten drunk like this since we were in Boston. BDSM and alcohol did not mix. If she showed up hungover to a session someone could get seriously injured. I found two empty liquor bottles on the front step and tossed them, then I went to look through her phone.
I flipped through her messages and saw an unknown number had sent her a picture of three couples consisting of men in their 50’s posed straight back with fit young beautiful models in Times Square. The models were smiling with their hands placed identically on their male partner’s chest. The men were beaming. It was what I called The Grin. Sera was in the center with a tall handsome angular Cuban man in his 50s with a trimmed goatee.
At the start of the evening Sera had sent him one of the pictures from the steamy portfolio she’d taken when we moved to New York. She’d also texted him a reminder of the start time of their date just like I’d told her.
He’d responded to her reminder minutes after she’d sent it.
Can’t wait to see you tonight, Seraphina
If you want me to come you need to learn to show me some respect.
Apologies Miss. Grigori. Only if you promise to do the same.
I will, Master
He’s messaged her again a few minutes before their date
Almost here. Miss. Grigori?
I’m outside. Come down now. I don’t open my own doors.
Yes, Miss. Grigori.
Three dots suddenly appeared on the chat.
Coming in town next month for a friend’s anniversary party. Let’s do it again, Miss. Grigori.
I considered what to type back.
I typed in my cell phone number
Only if you’re lucky. Call this number to check my schedule. Rates go up in December…
±±±
Escorting turned out to be a good way to keep money flowing on evenings Sera didn’t have her own clients. Sera left The Gilded Cage on good enough terms that the manager who ran the escort division allowed me to submit Seraphina’s profile to their escort database.
Seraphina was gorgeous but she was too tall and muscular for men that wanted beautiful accessories. Sometimes she’d get sent out if a client wanted a group and after a while she found a niche with older men who wanted a “show piece” to stand out in a crowd or men looking for a Dominant to make their night out a little interesting but not too kinky. I was able to negotiate $300-$550 per hour. She took home 40% plus tips.
Because escorting required modern and more colorful wardrobe we were on a first name basis with the consignment and thrift store owners who let us know when they got any decent dresses or shoes in. The small apartment was soon overflowing with organized bins full of clothes and shoes that could be patched up and have fake designer labels sewn in.
Despite the amount of money we were taking in it felt like we were always behind on our personal bills and I’d taken out a high-interest private student loan to cover my second year at Columbia. Money was tight and our groceries were limited to whatever was at the dollar discount stores.
“There are ways to increase tips on dates”, I tried explaining to Sera after I burned my hand on her glitchy curling iron. I picked up the section of her hair again and carefully curled it into a tight spiral to match the other ones. She was late for a date with a hotel developer who was taking his even wealthier clients out for a wild night.
“I’m on the phone”, she snapped. I hadn’t even seen the white headphones in her ears, “…I have a date tonight…yeah …l don’t know a couple thousand …I know… I miss that sound…they mostly whine … Bye, Sven.”
She hung up and took the headphones out.
“Sven is in town”, she explained, “He invited me to a party tonight at some place called Rapture. I miss doing scenes with him. The way he takes a whip is so hot.”
“…Why don’t you invite him over for a private session?”
She took a sip out of a water bottle that I knew had vodka in it, “I can barely stand up in this apartment let alone use a whip.”
“We could move to a bigger place if we increased revenue. There are all sorts of things you can do to increase tips.”
“I made $24,000 last month escorting. Isn’t that enough?”
I shook my head. I knew the numbers like the back of my hand.
“Not if we want to pay the investors back. Maybe we could invest a couple thousand in breast augmentation. Nothing dramatic but it’d be a good business investment.”
“I like my body”, she said going back to her phone.
“Well, I was asking around and there are other ways to get more tips”, I said running my hands through her cooled curls, “Turns out striptease rules apply to escorts. You can do things like nude lap dances, squirting, and massages as long as they don’t touch you. You already have handcuffs so that helps.”
Sera held her phone up and flipped the camera to see her hair, “You’re so funny Paris, you think I can squirt on demand.”
We’d been together four years and she could still manage to make me feel like a bumbling idiot and put me right back in the mind space of the high school weirdo failing to impress the beautiful athlete. I’d just been talking without even thinking. Sera and I had always been open sexually but she was never that candid or vocal about her own pleasure. Even with her other partners she always gave more than she took.
“Uh…can you?” I asked trying not to sound embarrassed and also feeling like I should know the answer.
She shrugged
“A little but most men aren’t that patient.” she laughed again and went back to her phone.
“Um…either way it’s money on the table. These men want to be able to indulge in the fantasy they are paying for.”
She went a little stiff as I attempted to find an appealing side part in her hair.
“Maybe it shouldn’t be all about the money, Paris.”
The comment irked me. This was all about money and it wasn’t like she was balancing a business, housework, serving a Dominant, becoming a CPA, and writing a complex accounting thesis.
“With all due respect Darling you can’t complain. You get to go to exclusive events around the city and flirt with interesting men at expensive restaurants.”
“It’s not like that”, Sera said handing me an energy drink to open for her.
“Darling, we’ve been in New York for almost two years. All I’ve seen is the inside of a classroom, New Aeterna and the 1 train.”
“You went to dinner with Hamlin and Whitaker at the Four Season”, Sera pointed out taking the energy drink back.
“My anxiety wouldn’t exactly let me enjoy that. I’ve seen the pictures on your phone. You get to dress up and go to concerts, games, VIP lounges, private tours and parties with celebrities. I would take that over spreadsheets and my thesis.”
Sera took a sip of her energy drink and crossed her legs. She was pissed at me and it wasn’t just because I’d talked back to her. Our lives were up in the air and I should have been the one thing she could control.
“Yeah, Dom Hidalgo and I have an amazing time. I know what he wants. He knows what I want.” Sera ran her thumb over the tennis bracelet, “But some of the guys who use The Gilded Cage service are entitled. Because they paid for you they have zero manners. You can’t enjoy shit when you are always being stared at and talked down to. I have to smile and pretend like I enjoy being called babygirl or that it’s flattering to be shown around and asked to spin like a fucking car. Like, if there are other escorts we aren’t even allowed to speak directly to each other unless a client is present …and I don’t know Paris…some of these girls look so young.”
“I mean if they are 18—“
“They look young Paris. I get put in my place when I try to say anything. And like it’s easy to say what’s illegal on paper…but hands slip under my dress all the time. Some get really mad when there isn’t sex and want to take suggestive pictures, take my panties or get hand jobs. It’s whatever, I can’t make a big deal about a few uncomfortable moments. I can’t risk the other escorts not getting paid because I pissed a client off. I have to shut up and deal with it. So much fucking fun.”
Sera tried to be glib but there was something in her voice. I’d noticed she had the occasional small cuts and bruises but she said those were from accidents at the dungeon.
“Okay. “, I started pacing in the tiny apartment, “We need to pull the plug on this.”
“No. I mean most of them are…harmless and sweet. If I cancel tonight there is a huge fee. I can put up with it. Most of the assholes know not to fuck with me by now.”
“You should have told me.”
“Why”, she said getting out the chair and pulling on purple mini dress, “What are you going to do about it?”
“I could write a letter to the Gilded Cage or get the police involved.”
“You’re still so fucking naïve”, she said digging through the large plastic bins of shoes. She moved on to the accessories bin leaving its tangled contents in heaps on the floor, “No one cares. When you dress like a slut and get paid to give men attention. No one cares. When you have a reputation…you just shut up and move on because no one is going to…no one…”
She sits back on ankles sorting through the mess she made.
“Sera?” Her shoulders had gone tense but she kept digging through containers and piling the contents on the floor. I wrapped my arms around her from behind. From her profile I could see tears cascading down her face.
“Seraphina”, I said in what I hoped was soothing voice.
“I thought I was over this”, she said, “Sometimes I just go back to being in that parking lot in high school. How shitty I felt afterwards, how confused I was about what those guys did to me. How the fucking school counselor…fucking principal kept…questioning me. Bringing up my reputation. Sometimes with a real entitled guy, I’m afraid it could happen again and my reputation hasn’t gotten any better.”
I pressed my cheek to her back and I felt her straighten, “Seraphina, you need to stay home tonight.”
She shook me off and reached for a tissue to dab at her makeup, her glazed eyes the only sign that she’d been crying. She methodically pulled on a pair of gladiator stilettos from the pile on the floor.
“Sera”, I said, “I need to fix this for you. I can help you file a police report in our hometown. You need closure. I can-- “
“I’m fine, Paris. I just got overwhelmed.” I helped her stand up and into her coat, “There is always this terrifying microsecond after I say ‘no’ where I’m waiting and praying that have a civil reaction -”
“Sera.”, I snapped, “No one should lay a fucking hand on you without your consent—“
She blew me off.
“I’m fine. You have to set up for a party at New Aeterna tonight. I’ll come by after my date to help you close up.”
It’s what she wants so I just nod. I wanted to kiss her but I couldn’t afford to mess up her brand name make-up.
After Sera left I put the apartment back into order and packed everything I needed so I could study during the event at the dungeon. I was in my head the entire train ride down to SoHo. Since I was a kid I’d wanted to be a politician and make a difference in the world for real people. Here I was a few weeks from turning 25 and I’d somehow veered off that course. I’d chosen to focus on economics and accounting because deep down inside I knew the fiscal side of government was safe.
Policy terrified me. Because Policy changed people’s lives. Policy wasn’t neat or clean.
Fuck it. I’d spent the past year memorizing New York City vice law and twisting myself into knots to make sure we followed the vague outdated vice laws. In return for what? Legal sex work was such a gray area that there was zero protections for workers. The way I saw it everyone from veterans like Alexxa to the people willingly walking the streets deserved to be protected. The government only wanted to be involved with regulating sex if conception was involved. It was so fucking archaic.
When I got to New Aeterna that night I plastered on a smile and helped the organizers set up. Then I disappeared in the back and applied for law school one last time.
±±±
Seraphina and I joined the New Amsterdam Sex Worker’s Collective
I’d learned about it from Connecticut’s Urban Development Director Carver Landow, back then he was just one of Sera’s newer outcall clients (his wife Josie always hovering around interrupting).
I decided if one of my future political platforms was going to be sex worker’s rights I needed to be with the people doing the work. It also didn’t hurt that they offered free counseling service and after Sera’s breakdown it was obvious she needed to talk to someone.
The Collective provided legal aid and medical assistance to all types of sex workers. I quickly learned to understand the state of sex work in the U.S you had to learn the intersection of race, class and gender. From sex workers on the street to dungeon Dommes the one thing they all needed was better health and mental care.
Collectively Sera and I pledged 8 hours of volunteer work a week. Helping others had always been an escape for me even if it was an hour sitting around the Morningside Heights community center making overnight bags with condoms, lube, emergency numbers and towelettes.
. I got meet more people trying to ride those bright lines in the laws. It was everyone from Camgirls, phone sex operators, and exotic dancers. There was also a fair share of dungeon key holders and professional Dommes but we saw each other as competition.
“Look at it this way”, I said one afternoon to the Director Whitney Munroe, the founder of The Collective who I’d immediately sidled up to when was around, “If gay marriage is legalized next year I think this country will finally be ready to consider sex worker protections in America. And…I’ll be honest… Dommes like Sera’s might be the spearhead of that change. It’s not right, but swanky dungeons would be way more palatable to politicians.”
Director Munroe considered what I was saying, “Why would you equate sex worker’s right with gay marriage?”
“It’s not me”, I told her, and “To me they aren’t even remotely the same. It’s The Moral Majority in this country that decided gay rights and sex workers rights needed to be in the shadows.”
Director Monroe turned her eye to Seraphina. She was sitting in the back corner of the community center with one of the counselors on duty.
“I know you and your wife have a fancy building but the stigma on sex work in this country is still the same. Reform is going to have to be handled on a state-by-state basis. New York won’t be the place to start.”
“Yeah….” I said watching Sera shake her head at something the counselor says. Director Munroe catches me watching her.
“Paris, This line of work is a high-stress. It’s hard to incorporate proper mindfulness and care when so much of your energy is focused on other people’s wants.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I just want to change something in this fucked up world. Making a difference is all I’ve wanted.”
Director Munroe studied me.
“You know Paris, if you are planning on staying in the area I’m the secretary of the Northeast DCC.”
I sat up straight in my chair.
“The Democratic Congressional Committee?”
“Yes. The DCC is always looking for young candidates to run. I mean if you’re serious about running for office and you keep volunteering with The Collective I could keep you in mind if something comes up.”
I deflate a little at the prospect.
“I just barely qualify for the House…I mean would The Party like that my wife’s a Domme?”
She shrugged it off.
“As long as you don’t put yourself in a compromising position with your wife’s business and you keep it legal and the police out of it…you should be good. I personal want to push through someone more aligned with my causes. We’ve planned the next four years and we’re expecting a moderate to win in 2016. Then the strategy is to push more liberal candidates down ballot”
“…yeah but Congress? I don’t have experience.”
She shook her head as if I’d misunderstood.
“Yes, we recruit for Congress but we plant seeds all over the Northeast on the local level. You’d start local and work your way up. We’d start you in Rhode Island, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts or Connecticut”
“I feel like I’ve been working my way up my entire life.” I said honestly.
“Then you should be up for the challenge.”
±±±
Christmas to New Year’s was a boon financially. Sera had been invited to a lot of exclusive BDSM holiday parties but New Aeterna was booked solid, so we were working. The closest we had to a break was when we hosted our own Whipped Dream Christmas Evening. Tickets were $100 and we served watered down whip cream and cherry vodka cocktails.
Sven had come into town from the West Coast to be there. He and Sera spent most of the night locked in the tiny back office talking. Around midnight Sera joined the party dressed up as a sexy Mistress Claus who gave Sven (Claus) a workout on the end of her whip. She seemed genuinely please at that first “ah” released by Sven, she was so attuned to his need for erotic pain. I was hard all night, jealous of the attention she gave him. I wanted Sera to push me like that. I wanted her to break and fuck with me.
Sera took her time publicly massaging and tending to his body afterwards. Working the miles of skin exposed by his full festive bright red leather harness. I could only watch from a distance since I was serving drinks.
We had six more Christmas parties that week. Every night we were serving drinks, monitoring guest and cleaning. Sera booked a few more dates since there was a premium around the holidays. At the end of December we’d made enough money to buy out January Cordell.
I’d invited January out to dinner to make her feel special since Sera was busy with two clients and had booked a somewhat sketchy but well-paying modeling gig.
“Alexxa said you were one to watch out for, I guess she was right”, January said accepting her check for $402,000. She’d made a 15% profit off her initial investment, “I’ve never made money back so quickly. I’m impressed, Paris.”
“Impressed enough to write me a recommendation for law school.”
“I thought you were already in law school at my alma mater.””, She said her soft voice always calm and measured.
“I’m at Columbia but I’m finishing up an MBA in accounting this spring.”
“Congrats.”
“Thank you. But the thing is I could really use a good recommendation for law school. I have some job prospects after graduation but going to law school has always been my dream.”
She looked at the check sitting on the table between our meals.
She shrugged, “Alexxa told me I should watch out for you. She said you had too many ideas and talked too much.”
“Do you believe her?”
“I like ambition. I’d be willing to invest in you again. Let me know what you want me to say and I’ll write you a recommendation.”
“Thank you”
“Consider it a late Christmas present.”
±3±
A few days before New Year’s Eve Sera and I were cleaning up after out last party of the year. I’d put Christmas music on the speakers and Sera quietly hummed along while sweeping the lobby.
The NY Erotic Writer’s Year End Party should have been tame. They’d only rented the studio for the ambiance but they’d gone right through our supply of alcohol and a few of them were sober enough to ask if they could test the equipment with their seemingly put-upon spouses. Sera had been more laidback than usual, she’d flirted with some of the couples and had helped them do all sorts of things to their husbands.
While Sera cleaned the dungeons I went into the back office to count the money and pulled some figures for the end of the year. We’d made $75,000 dollars on rentals and nearly $40,000 between sessions and dates. We just needed to keep this pace up for the next six months to buy out Hamlin and Whitaker.
I wrapped up the accounting around 2 a.m. and found Sera curled up and sleeping on a mat in one of the dungeons. She still had on a strappy fully black body suit with mesh cutouts she’d word tonight because she’d forgotten she was just working the bar tonight.
“Sera” I said getting on my knees and shaking her awake, “Darling, we have to finish closing if we want to make the last train.”
“Five minutes” she said.
I remembered what Director Munroe said about self-care so I let her sleep. I finished cleaning and disinfected the areas she hadn’t gotten to. My eyelids were also feeling pretty heavy so I decided to give myself five minutes too. Technically it was illegal for us stay overnight in the space, but who was going to find out? Before I could finish the thought I’d fallen asleep next to her.
I was jolted awake what felt like moments later. I was disoriented, my body was being forced across the hard ground. I oriented myself and realized Sera was dragging me across the floor by my ankles. Sera and I kept everything professional at New Aeterna so I wasn’t sure what was happening. Before I could process what she was doing she hauled me up to my feet and threw me into the Saint Andrew’s cross.
“Se—“
“Did I say you could speak?”
I was disoriented and confused but the harsh demanding tone of her voice had me aroused. Sera strapped my wrist in, then my legs until I was spread over the cross. She ripped my cheap shirt off and pushed it apart, I felt the sharp tip of the crop against my chest. My body was ready to submit but my mind was on edge. She forced a ball gag into my mouth securing it tightly. I heard the click of her heels and the ominous roll of the gear tables that held supplies for all sorts of fantasies.
I turned my face a little to see what she was planning when a shock of cold water broke across my face, the ice cold water drenched my clothes, it cooled the heated anticipation building in me but I was still hard.
“Eyes forward”, she snapped. I obeyed but that’s when it registered to me that she was slurring. I’d only seen her have one glass of wine tonight but I hadn’t checked her water bottles. I heard a click followed by the soft roar and sharp smell of fire. Shit.
I turned to see she had lit a fire wand. The slim ornamental torch almost slipping out of her shaking hands. She stepped in front of me and I made myself look her in the eyes. There was a thin line of blue around her dilated pupils, her gaze was sharp but unfocused. Her breathing was sporadic like she just took a shot of adrenaline. Sera leaned forward bringing the flame up around my face and close to my cheek, she let the flame graze my chest leaving a warm burn.
“Are you going to be a good boy for me, little pet?” she asked letting the fire lick my pale skin, “You want to play with me before running home to mommy.”
I let out a breath as she stepped back. My mind was reeling because this wasn’t how Sera talked to me. She was talking to me like I was one of her clients. A client. I racked my brain…Sera had a client… who was always leaving to take care of his mother and constantly e-mailed me to be prorate his bill…he was into temperature play.
She stumbled again nearly dropping the torch. She righted herself and then to my horror poured kerosene oil into a bronze shot glass. She took a clumsy step back, her heels just over a “x’ taped on the floor. Then she put the kerosene oil in her mouth
“SHIT.”
I screamed behind the gag because if she inhaled or swallowed just the smallest bit she’d die, as quickly as she’d swallowed it she expelled the oil and a plume of fire and smoke drifts towards me. The smoke singed the corner of my eyelashes. She thankfully dropped the torch in the bucket of cold water opened a bottle of expensive water to rinse the kerosene from her mouth. She took another unsteady step in her stilettos and I watched as her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she collapsed on the floor.
I screamed uselessly through the gag, pushing against the restraints. I screamed until tears were running out of my eyes.
Sound-proof
The dungeon was fucking sound-proof.
I breathed through my hysterics and looked at Seraphina. I could see her chest moving but she was knocked out cold.
Think Paris.
Sera had a client schedules two days from now at 10pm…but I hadn’t had time to change the security system to his code. He wouldn’t be able to get in. And what? Was some CEO or investment tycoon going to call the cops and complain because his Domme missed an appointment?
No.
Well, maybe not the first week. By then I’d be…
Sven ? No. Sven was doing independent work in Canada until March.
I opened my eyes when I remembered my intersession classes. I’d never missed a class. Surely my professor and classmates would be concerned. Maybe they’d do a welfare check at the apartment.
They would see …what?
I kept everything about New Aeterna locked away in a file cabinet. My classmates knew my wife worked in the sex industry but I never gave details. Leon talked to Sera a few times a year. Did he know about all this? She’d mentioned once that things like this made him uncomfortable.
I could last …three days without water?
And Sera.
Sera might need medical help
“Wake up, Sera. SERA.” I managed through the gag. I screamed and yelled until my voice was raw but she didn’t stir. The fear and anxiety was making my stomach clinch in pain. This felt like the universe punishing me for straying from my moral upbringing and embracing my wicked, dirty and shameful desires…then making money off of it.
This is what I got for not sticking to the path I should have. What a fucking way to die. I relaxed into the bonds and mentally prepared myself for the next few hours. I let myself fall into a submissive space except instead of my Mistress I submitted to the will of the fucking universe to eternally screw over Paris fucking Prince.
After a few hours I start to fantasize about different life. The life I could have had if I’d cut Seraphina loose before graduation and stayed in Boston. I could have been straight-laced and successful. I could have found a job working under powerful women and not taking my desires farther than that. I could have been happy…maybe I would have reconciled with my brothers.
Sera stirred on the floor interrupting my day dream. I started shouting at her again and she rolled onto her back. I looked at the clock. We’d been trapped for three hours.
“Sera”, I screamed over the gag, “Sera please. Seraphina. Wake up.”
With her eyelids half closed she pulled herself to her knees and grabbed onto the wooden cross to keep balance.
“Seraphina,” I pleaded, “Please. Just free one of my hands.”
She was delirious and her head lulled back. I kept calling her name and eventually she reached up and unlatched my right arm, then she collapsed back on the ground.
I slipped my finger into the restraints and got my other wrist loose then quickly undid my ankles and the gag.
“Fuck. Hold on, honey”, I said, “Stay with me.”
It took me a while to get the feeling back in my legs but when I did I ran for my cell phone in the office. I jogged back to Sera and I…hesitated.
How did this look? Would the police get involved if EMTs saw the state Sera was in? I looked at the way she dressed…would they believe we weren’t doing anything illegal? How would I explain why we were here so late? Would they be able to smell the kerosene on her lips? Would they believe Sera had swallowed it herself?
I can see the cops having a field day and making snide jokes about what they thought we did down here. Fuck if the media picked it up.
Director Monroe had told me to keep a low profile if I wanted to work with the Party. Specifically not to get the police involved. I couldn’t have this situation get taken out of hand. I had too much to prove. No Sera couldn’t be found in the dungeon.
I am 100% ashamed of what I did next.
I moved as fast as I could to clean up then dungeon. I disposed of the kerosene and fire wand then reset the space. Then I put Seraphina’s coat on her and dragged her unconscious body through the lobby and shut the barn doors to the dungeon. The coat was heavy and I found an empty bottle of Avión in the pocket.
“Fuck, Sera.”
I took the bottle and gently laid her body out in the lobby. There. It was better she was found there.
No.
It was still too close to the dungeons. I threw on my coat, grabbed my messenger bag and hauled her upstairs to the entrance.
No. Still to close.
I opened the door and dragged her outside to the base of the metal spiral stairs that lead the ground level. I put the keys for the studio around her finger and positioned her body half in-/half out the front door.
I dashed up the spiral staircase to street level and dialed 9-1-1-.
“Hello, there is a…woman”, I managed, “At the bottom of the stairs the 48X48 SoHo building. I think she fell.”
My hand was shaking so hard I could barely end the call. Then I headed for the subway.
±4±
Sera had been hospitalized and admitted for exhaustion.
Her body had produced as spike of adrenaline before she crashed and the only thing in her system was cheap wine, half a bottle of tequila and energy drinks. I pretended to be surprised when Sera called me from the ER. The doctor had put her on fluids and they’d pumped her stomach because they smelled the kerosene. The doctors wanted to admit her for a few days but she was leaving against doctors’ advice because we didn’t have insurance.
Sera still looked pale and out of it while I helped her change out the hospital clothes and into street clothes. She barley remembered that night and seemed to think she’d sent me home early.
“Are you going to be okay on the subway?” I asked grabbing her discharge papers, “We can take a taxi.”
“The train is fine”, she said her voice still sounded weak, “I’m fine. The doctor said I have to remember to eat, drink water and sleep.”
“This is my fault Seraphina. It was my idea to fast track paying the investors. I pushed you to hard.”
“I’m not afraid of a little hard work”, she said, “This just makes an awful Domme.”
“No.” I countered, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you. I should have been making sure you got to sleep and making meals for you and--“
“It’s not you Paris. It’s just… how am I supposed to anticipate and gauge someone else’s needs if I can’t even take care of myself?”
“Seeing to your needs is on me. It’s my fault. I didn’t think your drinking had gotten that bad again and I--”
“…I think I need some time, Paris. I can’t give my clients what they need and you. I just need you to be my husband and let me take care of myself”, she said.
Husbands were disposable.
Good obedient submissive were not. I didn’t need a counselor to know the fear that crept up on me was the same fear I’d had when Hmjeu told me his diagnosis.
Don’t leave me.
“Whatever you want, Sera.”
±±±
Sera being out of commission for a week put us behind financially. I worked twice as hard to keep the studio booked so we met quotas. I also readjusted to taking control of my life again. I hated it. I was second guessing everything Sera used to decide for me. We split the housework and I hated seeing Sera doing housework that was beneath her after working all day.
I was also so used to doing Sera’s tasks list that I didn’t know what to do with the spare time. I volunteered at The Collective more and connected with Director Munroe. One day I just hopped on the train to Times Square to see if for myself. I loved how vibrant and active it was but it also hit me I didn’t want to live in a city my entire life.
Seraphina got back on her feet because she had to.
I felt idle watching her get ready for work by herself in the makeshift vanity she’d made with an old desk and mirrors from the thrift store. I was always trying to manipulate her. One day, I was telling her about my thesis and she was pretending to care. If I was still her submissive she could have told me to shut up and stand quietly in a corner—instead I kept rambling to annoy her. I hadn’t even feel comfortable propositioning her for sex like a normal husband. I liked having to earn it. I don’t know how I had the gull to as for it so much when we first got together.
“I know what you’re doing, Paris.” she said drawing perfect wings around her lash line.
“I’m just making conversation, love”, I said, “Anyway I’m thinking of taking a CPA exam next month because my CEU credits meet the CPANYC requirement to--
She stood up suddenly and walked over to the window then ran outside. I followed and saw Sven stepping out of a Toyota convertible parked in front of our unit. She kissed him and Sven picked her up, her longs legs wrapping around his waist. He carried her back to the front door and set her down.
“Paris, get my—“, she stopped realizing she was giving me an order, “I mean …never mind.”
She maneuvered around me to get her train case.
“How was Canada”, I asked Sven now that we were alone.
“Cold.”
“Hmm”
“You don’t like me do you Paris? I mean outside of fucking you don’t like me”
“I’ve seen how competitive this industry is and I’m afraid if I don’t keep an eye out you’re going taking advantage of Sera.”
“This can’t just be about business.” Sven said
“It is.”
“So you aren’t jealous. Let’s face it Paris, you’re going to be like all those pathetic guys in D.C hiding behind masks and complaining about privacy once you become a public figure. Sera told me you guys are taking a break. My advice? You should probably let Seraphina go before it’s too late”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not going to want this lifestyle once you are a public figure. You think someone like Seraphina is happy with a husband she can’t control? Seraphina is my friend but she’s fucked up. One minute she’s a total sadist who wants control and power the next she wants hardcore non-con.”
Sven was trying to piss me off. I knew Sera had a submissive side and I knew she liked rough sex with men but I chose to ignore it.
“What do you guys talk about when I’m not around?” I asked genuinely curious.
“Just shit friends talk about”, he said non-chalantly.
I heard Seraphina coming back and move aside as Sven steps in to take her train case to his Zipcar. Of course he was giving her a ride to work.
“You two playing nice?” she asked half-seriously.
“Of course.”
Sven and Sera must have had a long conversation in in the car about our finances because that video Chairman Day found was one in a series of 10 BDSM videos Sven had been commissioned to do by AdultStream. He offered Sera a role in the videos and she took the $4000 dollars per video Sven offered without asking me to negotiate. I probably could have gotten another thousands from the billion dollar company.
It was a two week production and Sera stayed with him and his roommates in Brooklyn because it was closer to the set and New Aeterna. After the production both of them decided to pick up hours on phone sex lines. I was mad at myself for not thinking of it first. The pay was good and Sera had the perfect voice for it. Sera and Sven were both competitive and high-earning operators were rewarded with gift cards that we lived off of.
Sven was like that. So invested in what Sera wanted, which at the time was to pay back the investors. He knew how to appeal to the Dominant in her by treating her like a Queen. He showed up in the mornings to chauffeur her to work and private sessions. He never let her carry a bag and she never opened the door when he was around or wanted for orgasms.
On nights they both worked the phone line they’d pick up food and Sven would have dinner with her in the apartment, he’d plate everything on our cheap discount store plates and light candles. They were never intimate when I was around. Getting fucked by another man in front of me was something she did to fuck with her submissive, not to her vanilla husband.
“How are the numbers looking”, Sera asked when I dropped by New Aeterna to go over the earnings. She looked better now that she was taking B12 capsules now instead of energy drinks.
“It’s looking good”, I said, “The video work with Sven really helped.”
“I think I’d do it again if I had to.”
“You two are getting close.” I said, “You said you wanted to take care of yourself but it seems like you found another submissive.”
She shrugs, “I can take care of myself. You know that. But I’m busy and I like it better being worshiped. He actually submits to me. You do it when it’s convenient.”
“Seraphina that’s not true—“
“For almost two years Paris I’ve been working eighteen hour days in service to your vision, your business plan, your debt. I let you pimp me out because you want to prove something.”
“Escorting was your idea”, I said harshly, “I came up with New Aeterna for you. Paying back the investors is also for you.”
“Maybe I wanted something more.”
“What more is there? You are a gorgeous successful Domme. You are worth millions of fucking dollars thanks to me. You have a career, a roof over your head, women and men throwing themselves at you, Sven treating you like a Queen and fucking you. What more could you fucking want?”
I slammed my fist into the table and Sera took a slight step back. She wasn’t pleased. She wasn’t pleased at all. She wanted to correct me. She wanted to drag me into one of those dungeons and punish me. Instead she replied coldly.
“I…I just want to pay back the investors.”
I took a breath and calmed down.
“If we take out a small loan and put together our liquid funds we can pay back Whitaker and Hamlin. You might still need to work side gigs to keep things afloat but we won’t have the investors over us.”
“That’s what I want. Get it done.”
±±±
A little over a year after we opened New Aeterna I wrote two checks to pay back Whitaker and Hamlin. I mailed Hamlin’s check but to pay back Mr. Whitaker I met him at his property development office in the financial district. My discount suit was in sharp contrast to the bespoke suits in the offices around me.
Mr. Whitaker had a huge glass enclosed corner office and hurried out the receptionist who escorted me.
“Good to see you, Mr. Prince.” We shared a firm handshake.
“You too Mr. Whitaker.”
He cleared his throat
“Um. You didn’t tell anyone why you were here did you?”
“No. You know Miss. Grigori values her client’s privacy. “
“Right. I know. I didn’t mean to insinuate—“
“It’s alright. She’s appreciated your investment. I’ve got your check right here. You are being paid back your principal plus interest and a bonus profit share. Plus you’ll get your complimentary premium client status.”
He nodded and took a seat. He looked at the check then back at me.
“I pulled this money out of my personal investment account. Are you sure she doesn’t want me to reinvest my money?”
“There has been discussion of another studio but…not for right now.”, or at least I had been playing around with the idea since I’d graduated with my MBA last week. Sera had to leave right after the ceremony to meet a client.
“Property is always a good investment. Do you think she’d be interested in reinvesting with Whitaker—my company… not me personally.”
I took a seat.
“What do you mean?”
“The building the dunge—New Aeterna is in”, he did a side glance out the glass walls surrounding his office, “The building.”
“48X48 SoHo? Is there another open retail space?”
“No, but the top floors of the building is condos and apartments. Some are party lofts to be honest. They were big in the early 00s but that burst. It’s been hell keeping occupancy up.”
He reached under his desk and produced a packet on the luxury condominiums at 48x48 SoHo. I flipped through impressed with the offerings. Sera’s commute could be an elevator ride plus they had a state of the art gym and security...
“What are we talking?” I asked out of curiosity.
“My broker has a vacancy that’s been sitting on the market or two years. One bedroom one bath, 1140 square feet, floor to ceiling windows with a private patio. 1.1 million.”
I looked at the 1.2 million dollar check I’d just laid on Whitaker’s desk.
“Are you sure you don’t want the money back?” I asked Whitaker.
“The money would just go back into my firm. I’d rather sell a unit in my portfolio than have the liquid cash. It cost a shit ton for us to advertise and maintain vacant units.”
“I don’t know…”
“Did I mention the unit is on the 48th floor?”
I looked up at him
“The penthouse?”
±5±
“I can see the East river.”
Sera leaned against the giant glass sliding doors taking in the view. She tried to open the patio doors but it was locked and I still had the keys.
“That’s actually the Hudson.”
She stepped away from the patio doors and off the elevated portion of the open concept condo that was supposed to be an office space but was most likely where D.Js had set up. The long rectangular condominium had one wall by the door that separated the bedroom from the massive living room/dining room/galley kitchen. The wide featureless space made it obvious this place had seen a few wild parties. Sera went into the small bedroom and I could trace her movement by the loud echoing clicks of her five inch high heels.
“Now that we’ve closed, you should be good to access the fitness center and the courtyard”, I picked up the closing documents and the envelope I hadn’t wanted Sera to see yet, “Sera. I need to show you something.”
She took her time coming back out and pushed herself up on the marble counter. Her strappy leather dress riding up her thighs. She hadn’t had time to change after seeing a client and I don’t know what the broker thought when she met him in the business center dressed like that.
“I love it, Paris.” she said genuinely excited, “I’ve never had my own place before.”
“It’s a good investment and you know I’d do anything to make you happy and more comfortable.”
Her smile melted into something more heated. I slowly, almost innocently, got down to my knees never breaking eye contact with her. I kissed the tip of her pointy leather heels covered in metal studs freshly shined by the client she just left.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“You know what I’m doing. Do you want me to stop?”
I kissed the outline of the shoe and up to her ankle. She rested her foot on my shoulder as I did the same to her other foot. I was ready and willing to worship her for hours. I took my eyes away from hers long enough to see the damp spot on the seamless purple underwear she was wearing.
She was never going to desire my cock or my body but I was the only man who would never stop taking care of her. I would never stop giving her anything she wanted, need or demanded. I’d been doing it since day one. Since I ordered her a hot coffee in the small Mexican restaurant six years ago. I let my eyes linger under her dress. I wanted to make it clear that I knew she was turned on by me on my knees.
“…did you want to show me something”, she managed. I put a final kiss on her calf and stood back up. I handed her the open envelope from Columbia.
She looked at me before pulling out the letter.
“Paris, you got into law school”, she said sounding more relieved than shocked, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah. It doesn’t feel real.”
“I wish we could go out and really celebrate.”
“It’s okay”, I said. Despite owning two lots of prime real estate we still lived off the tips, “I was thinking we could keep the apartment uptown and I could stay there during the week to be closer to campus. It will be tight but we’ll be taking in more of a profit.”
“I guess that make sense.” She said crossing her legs.
“Hey. Let’s take a picture for my Facebook.”
I spent ten minutes trying to find an angle that made the condo look bigger but also showcased the slutty outfit she was wearing.
“Okay”, I said once I had a good set to choose from, “I’ll get a cab and start bringing over the rest of your stuff.”
“Actually, Paris I need you to work on a contract.”
“New client?’”
“No”
“No?”
She pushed off the counter and walked me to the door.
“If we’re not going to be living together I think I should keep a closer eye on you. Maybe I should be your Mistress again.”, she kissed me slipping her tongue in my mouth, and “just to make sure you don’t get distracted.”
“Sera this condo is not a bribe—“
“It’s not about the condo, Paris. I have so many men under my foot. But nothing ever feels as good as seeing my husband on his knees in front of me. It just feels…right.”
“Better than Sven?”
“He and I are friends”, she said, “You know that.”
“There is more to it, Sera.”
“Like what?”
“You tell him shit you don’t tell me. Like having rape fantasies.”
Sera rolled her eyes and leaned against the door.
“Look, Paris. I have a lot of shit with …men I’m still figuring out. Men always made me feel guilty, naïve and shitty about sex and what I wanted. It fucked me up and confused me for a long time. It took me years to unlearn it.”
“I guess I wasn’t any better.” I said thinking back to our first few months of marriage and the decision to open our relationship because I couldn’t satisfy her. I was another demanding selfish asshole, unlike them she could just push me around.
“You were just three boring minutes of my day.” She seemed to enjoy embarrassing me but got serious again, “Yes, I guess sometimes I liked to be forced to enjoy being fucked by a man. Sven gets that. ”
“I don’t love that you have a submissive side.” I said honestly, “But I understand.”
“I don’t need you to understand”, she said kicking off her shoes, “What I do on my own time is my business. For right now I want you to be mine, Paris Prince. You want that again don’t you?”
“Yes…Darling.”
“Let’s make it interesting this time. We’ll sign a D/s contract. I want to fuck up your entire life. I want to own you. I want it to be legally binding.”
“I guess we could attach a contract to a post-nuptial agreement.”
I said that as if I hadn’t been lurking on BDSM forums in my free time reading up on the subject.
“I like that. You do that.”
The idea sent a thrill through me. I’d never signed a contract that lasted more than an hour.
“What do you want me to put in it?”
“I don’t know. You in service to me until you die. Control of your orgasms. You know what I like. I want complete control over you. Now go pack up and bring the rest of my stuff. After you put it away maybe I’ll let you break in my new bed when it gets delivered. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Darling.”
“I figured you would.”
I pressed the button on her key fob that opened the automatic balcony doors, the view was almost as nice as her smile. I officially handed her the keys to her new home. She kissed the top of my head.
“This is why you marry the smart ones.”
±±±
My mind was racing with the kind of Dominant/submissive contract I was going to write. Some people nitpicked between Dominant/submissive and Master/slave but I felt there was an in-between I’m sure we could negotiated but she’d probably get her way. We had to maneuver back into this slowly. The business wasn’t stable yet and Sera was always going to have to be mindful of her mental health.
I splurged on a cab and paid the driver to wait while I packed the car. I was in such a rush I ended up running full tilt into the woman standing at the front door.
“Sorry”, I picked up my key and looked up, “Carrie?”
±±±
Dun dun dun
Paris’ college crush is back
Okay. So the next chapter (I may break it into two parts) is just an interlude into Paris and Sera’s years in New York. I originally planned this chapter to pop up later but I want to get through all the flashbacks.
Also commenters remembered me wanting to use one of Nicole Schernzinger’s outfit in this serial and ….it’s the outfit she passes out in.
This chapter reveals something that was a common theme in the comments. How do Sera and Paris get their wealth? This threw me off because I was like well…they aren’t wealthy. At least not traditional. A majority of their wealth is tied up investments. The reason they have a nice house is because a home is an investment. The reason Sera was spending so much money on lingerie in the early chapter is because it’s for her business. It’s also why in Chapter 6 Paris notes that her chemise is cheap and why she wears that same dress to every date night.
Because they work so hard they use their wealth for things they don’t have time to do like home decorating which is why they have the nice dining room table.
Maybe this is a type of wealth?