“I got you this job”, Sera says when I open the front door for her, “Try not to fuck this up, Paris.”
+++
“Hello, everyone”, I begin, “My name is Paris Prince and I am honored to join Harrison County as your Jr. District Supervisor for the fifth district.”
+++
“Mr. Prince”, Emile says, “The truth is a lot of us are getting fed up with how things are run in this county. We thankfully just got in a new sheriff but there is a lot that is still not being heard. For years it’s been all about pleasing the real estate developers. Landow said you might be different. That you had a progressive small-town mentality… But I wonder if you might be just like the others.”
+++
“You really want to make this work, don’t you?” Sera says giving me her full attention.
“I do. I’ve got to build my political profile before I can even begin to think about running in a national election.”
+++
The first battle I fought in my new positon as the 5th District Jr. Supervisor was with a fucking Allen wrench. The board had been generous enough to provide me with a new desk considering my elderly predecessor had a heart attack and died on the previous one
+++
Everyone had been friendly when I entered Old Town Hall for my first day. The 6-story brick building housed the supervisors’ offices. It was way more intimate than the state-of-the-art Municipal Complex on the parkway where the other county offices were. The Municipal Complex also housed the recreation center the community theater and had a theater-style meeting room.
+++
My mind drifted back to what Emile had said... Something about people being fed up with how the county was run? I guess it was kind of odd a respected and mostly upper middle-class suburb ran on such tight staffing budget
+++
What I knew of my colleagues I picked up online or from Mrs. Ginger.
Cortland Day was about ten years older than me. I was impressed with the resumes of all my peers , but I saw a potential mentor material in him. He was a fellow Ivy and had fifteen years of public service experience. He was strikingly handsome with blonde hair and deep brown eyes-- he looked like a TV version of a politician and I couldn’t find a bad word about him online. He was a legacy in the community.
Supervisors Bruno and Lee of the 1st and 4th district have been serving together for nearly 30 years. They are both in their early 60’s and have been on the board the longest. They’d been colleagues with Day’s late father Armitage Day.
Gavin Hollins is the newest member. He represents the 2nd district and is in his 6th year serving. He is a middle aged dentist turned politician who I learned (via Mrs. Ginger) was a close Day family friend. I admired Hollins career change but he was the quiet …
“Here, Paris”, Chairman Cortland Days says, “Why not start with getting us ready for that federal tax audit. Here is the tax budget and tax schedules that need to be reviewed. The feds are coming in next month…
+++
“Cortland Day, the chairman, I feel like he’s icing me out. I mean maybe he doesn’t know I went to Harvard…they call me kid . . . .I’m almost thirty and it’s like no one takes me seriously.”
+++
This audit was fucking with my career trajectory.
I needed it done.
So, I cheated.
I connected my Chromebook to the Intranet and uploaded the tax budget, tax bills and schedules for the past 25 years into UBalance--the flexible customizable open source accounting program (invented by a fellow Harvard alum) I used for Sera’s business. The program could read the forms and pull the numbers into a database. I wrote a predictive code that could review the funds that went in and went out of the budget. It could forecast results and essentially perform the audit for me.
I knew I was screwed if I was caught putting county data into an open source program on my personal computer, but I wasn’t spending my entire term stuck in my office. I decide to upload the county’s annual budgets too. That way they can act as a quality control. I quickly log into the intranet to pull up the budgets but get hit with an error.
USER NOT AUTHORIZED
“Weird”, I say to myself. I hadn’t had any issues pulling it before.
To be safe I type my username and password again. ParisPR then DARLING08
USER NOT AUTHORIZED
I switch the Mrs. Ginger’s username and password (she kept it on a post-it on her desk).
I’m in.
+++
According to Ubalance 34% of the funds that were supposed to go into the tax budget in 2000…didn’t make it into the tax budget. I checked and saw it had been like that for the past 17 years.
I checked the records and found the deficiency. It looked like funds that were supposed to go into the tax budget were being paid directly out to the Lowell County instead.
I did some more research and realized this payment was the property taxes we paid to Lowell County for taxes owed on The Municipal Complex building. The Municipal Complex was owned by Harrison County but located on Lowell County land. As a result we had to pay them property taxes.
The funds should have gone to the tax budget and then been paid to Lowell County. Not paid straight out of the annual budget. Sloppy but not a big problem
Except.
The property taxes we were paying to Lowell County was really low for such a massive multi-purpose building.
I spend thirty minutes flipping through the property tax bills trying to figure out why it’s at such a low low .98%....when something sticks out to me.
The thing is…
I am an uptight type-A personality with a significant other that demands every little thing be spotless and in its place. Because of this I have an eye for detail…so I easily notice two angled lines on the tax bills above the Lowell County header. The tiny lines are maybe from a backward staple…but those tiny lines are in the exact same place on every single tax bill going back 17 years…
+++
The Municipal Complex had been purchased for $323,000 dollars. Back then it was just a simple three-story office building. Manhattan Mutual provided the loan and the county paid it off in 1997.
I’d lived in Manhattan for almost 4 years and I’d spent a lot of my free time raising funds and building capital. I’d never heard of Manhattan Mutual. I Googled it and nothing came up. I look up the address on the Manhattan Mutual letterhead and it goes to a neighborhood in Murray Hill..
“Shit.”
Maybe it was too long ago for the internet to have any record
Or the documents were fake
Fuck.
The tax bills, the mortgage documents, the deed.
They were all fake.
So where was the money going?
+++
If Cortland smiled any harder at that line he’d split his face. It was The Grin. The stupid giddy look straight men get when they think gorgeous soft-spoken beauty in front of them is theirs. A fantasy they can finally possess.
Mine
“So what do you do Mrs. Prince?” Cortland asks Seraphina.
Before I can stop Sera she hands him a business card over my head, pushing right up against my hard limit of mixing personal with business.
“Okay”, he says flipping the matte black card over, “Wow. Didn’t know we had domintatrixes in Connecticut.”
+++
“Holy. Shit. Paris”, Cortland says once Sera is out of earshot, “…You just don’t seem like the type to get involved with an escort. You are so conservative and straight-laced. I just. Wow.”
“She’s not an escort anymo—she’s a professional Domme. It’s different. Less off a social skill more of a trade? Once we get settled she wants to go back to staying at home…I mean sex work is…I mean--- I make sure it’s all legal. By the book.”
+++
“Paris”, Sera’s voice rose, “you always have to be overdramatic and self-righteous. As if you haven’t done a few questionable things in your life. I mean I practically bribed Landow to get the party to give you this job. I had to sign a year home contract with him and you know how annoying his wife is.”
“Sera. Someone faked buying an entire building so they could siphon millions of dollars out the county possibly to possibly pay for vacation properties in Florida. I think Day is behind it.
… I keep thinking if the county had the money maybe the school could have had a better security system to prevent the active shooter. Or we could afford one of those text alerts or hire more crisis counselors. This is millions of dollars of stolen funds. I think it’s been going on for three decades”
“Day is what? Late thirties. How is that possible?”
“His Dad held the position before him”, I realize, “This place is a boy’s club. Who knows who else is in on it? Sera, if I complete the audit and don’t say anything I could get in trouble.”
+++
“I don’t think Day’s done with public office”, Seraphina says picking up a document from his inbox
“What do you mean?”
She hands me a letter on party stationary. “He’s running for governor.”
+++
“…Paris you’ve never had a job before.”
I stop typing and look in her direction. I didn’t recognize her indecisive tone. Sera just hadn’t understood the urgency of the situation.
“What are you saying?”
“Sometimes my clients would talk about how their jobs had…stressful gray areas.”
I close the lid of my Chromebook and respectfully meet her gaze.
“You think I should keep my mouth shut?”
“Men like Day. They live in a different world. They don’t have to be accountable…”
+++
“ If I leak this I have to do it anonymously and we can’t stick around.”
“Why? “
“Well… I only caught this because I cheated. I put county information onto UBalance… on my personal laptop”
“And?” I can already hear the edge in her voice
“…well... You remember last year with the election. If there was a federal investigation my Chromebook would become a public record. Everything on my computer would be public…like your client list.”
+++
I get to the Lowell County clerk’s office just as the doors open
“I put a record request yesterday. I know you are busy but I need the property owner information for The Municipal Complex off the parkway. It’s…owned by Harrison County, right?”
“Mmmm. I think some company owns it…”
I scan the page and stare at the name of the company that owns The Municipal Complex
VacationSavers
The property record has a coastal Connecticut address and phone number that looks promising. I do a quick search for the address and nothing comes up. My last hope is the listed phone number. I dial and it actually rings.
“Good Morning. Smiles Unlimited how can I help you?”
“I…“
“Did you need to make an appointment?”
I hesitate and grip my phone tighter to prevent myself from throwing it.
“Is this a dental office?”
“Sir?”
“Is Dr. Hollins available”,
“He’s changed careers. His father Hollins, Sr. still sees clients.”
Hollins, Sr. Who had been a closer personal friend of Armitage Day.
+++
“Mrs. Ginger”, I finally say “I’ve been reading up on Cortland’s father, Armitage Day. He was quite the politician. Could you tell me a little about him?”
She smiles like the memory is indulgent.
“You remind me of like him. He was so eager and young when he started.”
“Armitage…helped the county get The Municipal Complex, right?”
She thinks on this
“I guess that was his project. I remember because it happened around the time of the divorce. I used to have to babysit Cortland while they went to court. She wasn’t very nice to Armitage. He was always doing his best.”
“So…Armitage was in charge of the entire project. No one helped him.” I ask.
She thought harder on this.
“The county was much smaller back then and the building was originally purchased to house the computer we got. Armitage got a good deal.”
+++
“In 1987 Armitage Day, Cortland’s father, was put in charge of buying a new office building for the county. Also around the time he got divorced. It sounded contentious.”
“Divorce usually is.”, Sera says and I hope that’s’ not a precursor.
“Maybe Armitage needed money? Maybe he wanted to make sure he could support his son. I don’t know ….but he and Dr. Hollins, Sr. came up with a pretty good scheme. They bought a small office building from Lowell County using a company called VacationSavers as a cover. Then they pretended to sell the building to Harrison County with fake deed and fake mortgage documents. Then they started billing the county using fake property tax bills.”
“Is it really that simple?” Sera asks.
“Small locality with one man signing off on all the transactions? Sure. Armitage and Dr. Hollins, Sr. probably planned to run this scheme for a few years but in the 90s property values in Lowell and Harrison County exploded .They must have created a fraudulent appraisal that allowed them to triple the amount on the fake property tax bills.
They stole so much money that VacationSavers expanded and I guess they bought Blue Orchid Estates. They bought vacation homes with stolen money. Prosecutors would love this case.”
“I though you said they were charging Florida tax rates.”
“Yeah. That’s the thing. In 2000 Armitage slowed it down. He stopped creating new tax bills with outlandish amounts. Instead he just doctored the tax bill for Blue Orchid Estates and submitted that every year. No one ever questioned why the amounts were all over the place because he paid it straight out of the annual budget. Armitage Day died 6 years ago. He got away with this for over 20 years.”
Sera sighed
“And Cortland has just been keeping it up?”
I nodded, “I’m sure of it.
“It’s actually kind of sad. Day and Hollins inherited their father’s crimes. If that’s what having a father is like I’m glad I never knew mine.”
(Insert ‘Rewind’ from Hamilton)
Hmjeu had been a priest in our community. After the tragedy he left the church, lost his faith in God and built the Boys’ Home to raise us survivors together.
Survivors of what I still can’t recall ….
+++
Hmjeu called all his rescued boy’s ‘my son’ but when he said it to me it was different.
Hmjeu took more time with me. I failed to thrive and was much smaller than the boys my age and was often too ill to be outside. Books were my escape. As a kid I’d flip through the pages and look at the pictures in awe of these powerful men. As I got older I loved reading about their origin stories and adventures in the White House. It amazed me that if I worked hard enough I could become a leader like this.
He gave me lessons in leadership, history and integrity. He told me stories from his Harvard days. He encouraged me when I decided to never take off my mourning black and when I turned eleven I became his apprentice.
+++
…. Hmjeu didn’t tell me about the cancer eating away at his brain. That was why he made me his apprentice. He’d made the choice not to operate or treat. He spent his last years on his terms; training me to takeover.
Just before high school graduation Hmjeu’s lawyer summoned me for the reading of Hmjeu’s second will nearly four years after his death. We met in my office at the house. I bought Ashe and Lysander, two of the eldest boys who I was closest with and my blood brother Jona. They kept me grounded. Reminded me to be a teenager from time-to-time.
“Actually, Mr. Prince---Paris”, the lawyer clarified, “The money is endowed to you. Per the will you can only use the money for the Boy’s Home if you remain as headmaster. However if you decide to pursue higher education the money must be used for that.”
“Yeah but”, Ashe said tapping his cane, “You weren’t actually going to go, right? We need the money. You can’t leave.”
I took the money and went to Harvard.
I was effectively ex-communicated. Every phone call and letter I sent to try and patch things up went unanswered.
(Present Day)
“Where did you find this”, I ask trying to focus on Day and not on the fetish video on Day’s phone.
“One of those free adult sites.” Day says sitting on his desk.
I also got it now. Day inviting me into his office. Inviting me to his annual cook-out last minute. He wanted to fuck my wife. Not literally, but I had a fuckable wife and that suddenly made me interesting.
“It’s not a secret my wife is a sex worker”, I
tell him, “It’s all legal. Besides legislation legalizing and decriminalizing
sex work is one of my platforms.
“…is this like how you met?”
“No..."
(Rewind…)
I’d begun freshman year emotionally damaged form the legal fights with my brothers so I’d been in awe of my roommate Travis Wentworth and his nuclear family. Wentworth was straight out of central casting for a Harvard undergrad.
I was stressed in college.
I somehow had to find time to do laundry, homework, social activities, volunteer work and extracurriculars. I didn’t have a laptop and wrote the first draft of my papers by hand. I was always worried about money. The only cash I got was the $40 I could get every two weeks when I donated blood and plasma. When I had a moment to rest all I just found myself missing my home.
+++
Sophomore year I moved into Winthrop House.
One day I saw Wentworth (cutting class) with his newest girlfriend Carrie Loweski, a transfer from Notre Dame studying ecology and finance.
I really liked her and we got along…so of course my asshole roommate had to swoop in and start dating her. She and her sorority sisters were already kick starting their own non-profit InspireHer to empower teen girls to get into college and travel.
+++
Seraphina Grigori stood up from where she was sitting on the edge of Ellington Fountain. She waived and promptly sent my plans for the future veering off course.
+++
Sera looked a little worn in her frayed boot cut jeans, patched up dark brown work boots and faded oversized gray flannel. Her hair was shaved to her scalp and if it hadn’t been for her eyes, which were bright blue but rimmed in red, and height I wouldn’t have recognized her
+++
“I …work at …Pink Paradise…it’s a bar…by the park.” She said, “I…one of the girls at the bar goes here. She said she could look up where you lived…” Her voice was a little deeper than I remembered and her shorn hair made her high cheekbones more pronounced and sharp. It was…distracting.
“So…are you…you live here?”
“…I’m moving between couches…”
+++
“…I was kicked out the military four months ago”, she considered her scarred knuckles, “I just couldn’t deal with assholes telling me what to do. I had zero choice in anything…just like in high school. The guys were okay but Leon going overseas fucked me up. I got into fights, fucked authority… drank a little too much. I was dishonorably discharged. I wasted like…two years.”
‘“It…kind of sounds like you sabotaged yourself.” I said
She looked up at me as if this hadn’t occurred to her, “Maybe.”
+++
I started to realize I physically attracted to Sera in a way I hadn’t been with other people. Her huge innocent looking gorgeous blue eyes made me feel weak. Her lips always looked swollen and soft, I started fantasizing about asking to kiss her. I liked the simple masculine way she dressed and how she easily carried her over 6’0 height. It was hard to make her laugh but when she did I felt…fluttery.
+++
Sera was introducing bad elements I didn’t need. I decided I had to cut Sera out of my life. I couldn’t let myself get dragged down into her shit. I wanted to be a successful prominent politician and to get there I had to put in the work at Harvard.
+++
Sera kept her eyes closed.
“I …I... I don’t want to be here anymore. It’s too hard…I can’t…”
She opened her glassy red stained eyes and a few tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Seraphina”, I said taking slow steps towards her “Don’t say that.”
“I don’t have anything”, she spat shaking her head, “I don’t have a home, a family, friends…a job. I let a meth head fuck me for a bottle of malt liquor tonight so I could... I got tired of wandering the streets… I just wanted to…go. I got a shitty deal and I…I…I’m just done.”
I sat down and let her cry on me, comforting her like I’d seen in movies. She wrapped herself around me and I had a natural urge to pull her closer.
“Sera…did you do something to yourself?” I asked.
+++
Wentworth and I had plans to move off-campus the start of junior year but one of Wentworth’s snitch friends told him I was the one who got him expelled from the dorms. Wentworth bailed on the apartment leaving me with an apartment I couldn’t afford.
I could have texted Wentworth to patch things up.
Instead I texted Seraphina Grigori
+++
“We should get married”, she said standing up as if that made sense.
“I…what?”
“Why not? I’ve thought a lot about the time we spent together and I think it’d be nice if the rest of our lives was like …taco night”
“I...”, I said remembering the night I broke my arm and she got into a fight with a bunch of frat guys, “You want to break my arm?”
“No. I want to fight for you. I want to pick you up when life or Tri Omegas think they can knock you down. And the way you ordered that coffee for me…you just casually took care of me. You’re going to be a great man one day Paris. I want to help you and I think this is the best way.”
I couldn’t think of any reasonable objections so we got married.
+++
We stayed up all night talking (fine I did all the talking). I told her all about my summer, my plans for the future. Sera quietly admitted she didn’t have any plans for the future.
“You do now”, I told her.
“I do?”
“You’re my wife now. My future is your future.”
“That’s…old fashioned.”
“Until you know what you want, any success I have…is yours too.”
+++
We sort of agreed to an open marriage
“…we’re young and you should definitely experiment more.”
+++
Sera and I never really told people we were married. The fact that I got married over the summer just never came up naturally once classes and activities started… then it felt awkward to mention it after not mentioning it earlier.
Sera’s co-workers and friends from the community center knew we were together on paper. Most of my acquaintances thought Sera was my alcoholic, working-class, promiscuous roommate and assumed the closet was a second bedroom.
+++
“It’s adorable you two have the same birthday.”
“Not really. It’s just--”, I started but Sera shook her head while wiping the salt of her lips. She didn’t like talking about our childhood. I think she remembered more than I did. After the tragedy there was a lot of confusion and misidentification. It was easier to give the surviving children the same birthday. January 1st.
+++
“You seem distracted, Paris.” Sera said.
“…Carrie invited me to New York with her friends.” I said, “I bailed on her though.”
I notice the change in Sera’s posture. She was ticked off.
“What’s that Sera? You wanted an open marriage.”
“It’s not that. It’s just you didn’t ‘bail’ on her”, Sera said, “You had plans with me. I don’t get why you want those people to like you so much.”
+++
“...I...I don’t care if people know we are together, Sera.”
“You do. Look, once you’ve been thrown out put for being gay….it’s hard to be with someone who can’t figure their shit out.”
“I can’t be rejected again, Sera. I can’t give them as reason to reject me. They have to want me. They have to love me. I can’t be alone again. Fuck. I’ll put up with Wentworth but I just can’t be left again.”
“I get it Paris.”
“You do?”
“While you were studying I was listening by the door. I mean I didn’t understand most of it but you sounded so happy and excited talking about policy and internships and law school with them. You needed people who can help you climb. That’s not me. You’re going places, Paris. I’m done holding you back”
“I hate it here. I hate Cambridge.” I said almost gleefully, “I fucking hate this fucking school. I even think I hate most of those people in there. I wish I could knock some sense into my teenage self. You were right. They weren’t my friends. I saw the way they looked at the apartment and I realized none of them has ever spent time with me without Carrie.”
Sera laughed to herself, “Now that life is kicking the shit out of you, you need me again.”
+++
Five days before graduation I was taken off the waitlist and accepted into Georgetown’s applied economics master’s program. It was bittersweet. I had a place to go even if it was a far cry from law school.
+++
I don’t know why a BDSM relationship began to appeal to me after I started at Georgetown University.
+++
“I convinced Seth to let me serve bottles at the club”, Sera aid referring to her sexist manager at Oasis who always said she was prettier when she smiled. There was a lot more money in D.C nightlife than Boston but since Sera mostly ran cards, hauled cases for bartenders and restocked shelves she was the last person tipped out. Oasis was a straight nightclub so she’d began growing her hair out and presenting more femme because it bought in more tips,
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Because those bottle girls make a shit ton in tips.”
“Sera. All this is temporary. As soon as I graduate I’ll start working and you won’t have to work anymore”.
+++
I think I always craved a little control in my life but there was more to it. I’ve always been attracted to strong powerful people. I’d definitely been attracted to Sera because she was taller and stronger than me. I’d devoured those presidential biographies because I was enamored by men with power. At Harvard I’d heard myself described as eager, passive, helpful…submissive.
Everything I knew about the idea of BDSM stemmed from a question on my psych 201 final. I remember the dry clinical description in my textbook about kinks and fetishes…but I always felt curious
+++
I was envious how openly vulnerable the women at the Ace Hall fetish party were, openly expressing pain and being teased to pleasure so publicly. Putting that trust in someone reminded me how I felt with Sera the first night in the apartment. Talking about my sexual anxieties and my identity. Trusting her to hold on to all my fears, anxieties without judgement.
+++
I am an emotional masochist
I learned I thrived on control and humiliation in a way that made all my other relationships shift into focus. I’d always craved attention and validation of a Dominant person my entire life. It was probably why I’d been drawn to Hmjeu. In some fucked up way it’s probably why I’d probably roomed with Wentworth for so long. I wanted more. I wanted a D/s relationship that was intense, challenging and could keep me focused…possibly make me a better husband.
+++
“You’re in charge. You’re in control, Sera.”
She laughed and I finally figured out how to make her smile.
+++
“Also, I’m quitting my jobs. Alexxa offered me a job at the dungeon on the cab ride home.”
+++
That was also the summer Seraphina went to Florida. Alexxa sent her and a few girls down to Florida to serve two weeks with Dom Hidalgo, an insanely wealthy and notoriously sadistic lifestyle Dom who turned his summer home, Seville, into an exclusive BDSM resort. He kept a full-time staff but paid Alexxa a head hunter fee to send girls in the lifestyle down during the busy summer weeks so there would be enough slave girls to entertain his guest.
“I wonder how it works”, I said to myself the morning Sera was set to leave. .
“Are you sure you want to go, Sera? I mean you’re not really slave girl material”,
The girl driving the station wagon presses on the horn but I see someone hop out the car and knock on the door.
“It pays six thousand dollars. I can play sub for two weeks. Go get the door.”
I opened the door to find a six foot tall blond man with flawless lightly tanned skin and brown eyes that seemed to be a swirl of light bronze and hazel. I’m completely thrown off being this close to a guy with chiseled cheek bones and a trim muscled body. I feel my body reacting to his proximity, it didn’t help that I hadn’t had sex in five months.
“Need some help with your bags?” He asked Sera. I picked up on his slight Northern European accent.
“No. That’s his job,” Sera said moving past him and towards the car
Sven Orlo introduced himself to Sera as they walked back to the car together.
+++
Sera started taking on clients of her own.
To keep everything neat and legit I got a business license, tax ID number and started an LLC under Sera’s stage name Mistress Athena. Soon men who were friends of friends wanted to book sessions. Sera wasn’t going for it.
“I don’t want to see anyone privately I don’t know from Triple X”, Sera said when I asked about getting new clients
“What if they have referrals?”
“I don’t want to get another black eye.” she said, “Some of these guys are dangerous.”
+++
My heart wasn’t in it when I graduated from Georgetown. It was just one more degree between me and law school
+++
“Sera. I can’t stay here. I’m moving to New York for grad school.”
“I know.” she said finishing her drink, “and I’m coming with you.”
+++
Sera probably wouldn’t have gotten a job in NYC if Sven hadn’t shown up on our doorstep.
“First of all the high-end Manhattan scene is much more glamorous and exciting”, Sven explained. His voice was deep with a seductive edge with that accent, “There are a shit more NDAs though because you got your celebrities, athletes, moguls and trust fund babies. You need a sexy portfolio and headshots. You also need references to show you are in good standing with the community. “
“Why is this so complicated?” Sera said.
“You’ll be fine….you’re still a six foot tall gorgeous Russian. You’ll do fine at the audition.”
“I’m not… Russian”
+++
The Gilded Cage turned out to live up to its name
It was a gorgeous high-end multi-tiered strip club, hotel, escort service and BDSM dungeon hidden in the ritzy Lower West Side.
+++
Sven’s Adult Stream account had hundreds of videos he’d done all over the world. Some he earned five dollars some he earned thousands. His straight channel was more profitable than his queer channel but he was making real money off the ad revenue.
“Fuck him”, I said showing Sera screenshots of Sven’s account after he’d gone home, “He didn’t pay you your fair share.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” Sera said taking the grinds out the coffee I made her, “You had no right going through his stuff, Paris.”
“I know I have zero say in this, Darling. Maybe we should keep things personal with him. No more business.”
“I’ll think about it”, she said.
“In the meantime fuck people who take advantage. Fuck Alexxa and the fucking Gilded Cage. Sera you need to go out on your own. You need to start working for yourself. You’re not some college dungeon Domme trying to make money until you get a job. You are good. You’re a real cold, heartless bitch with respect for kink and the people that need it. You enjoy putting men in their place and clients can tell the different.
regulating the sex industry is something I strongly believe in. But while it’s not regulated let’s take advantage. There is no certification or license for being a professional Domme. You are just as good as Alexxa. Better. I say you open your own dungeon. Here in the city.
+++
48X48 SoHo was a prime space for the dungeon despite it being a good 45 minute train ride from our apartment.
+++
“What should we call it?” Sera’s voice echoed in the empty studio space.
“…New Aeterna?” I suggested
“I like it”, she said, and “What is it?”
“I don’t know…it came to me in a dream.”
+++
“This is too much.”
“It’s not”, I said, “It’s what you deserve.”
“I’m a homeless deadbeat whore that barely gradate high school.” she drank the other glass of wine and it seemed to calm her nerves, “What the fuck am I turning into?”
“Seraphina, you aren’t turning into anything you’re just becoming who you always were. Confident. Demanding. Bitchy. Powerful. Empathetic. Giving. You are getting what you always wanted when you were stuck in that orphanage or and trapped in Helios house. Control. You’re in control of your life now, my Darling.“
+++
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. We rent out our space at a premium to small sex clubs looking for places to hold seminars, workshops and parties.
+++
, “….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.
“The money is out there. We just have to find it.”
+++
“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…?”
“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…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. I could escort. The escorts at The Gilded Cage got thousands out of their clients.”
+++
Escorting turned out to be a good way to keep money flowing.
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.
+++
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.
+++
The Collective founder, Director Munroe studied me.
“You know Paris, 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 …you should be good. I personal want to push through someone more aligned with my causes.”
“…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.”
+++
“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.
…
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?
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.
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 strong Soviet malt liquor in the pocket.
…
I opened the door and dragged her outside to the base of the metal spiral stairs that lead the ground level. I positioned her body half in-/half out the front door.
I dashed up the spiral staircase to street level and dialed 9-1-1, then I headed for the subway.
+++
She’d been admitted for exhaustion and acute alcohol poisoning. She was overworked and I hadn’t realized she was drinking again.
“…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.
Don’t leave me.
+++
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.
+++
“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, people men throwing themselves at you, Sven treating you like a Queen and fucking you. What more could you fucking want?”
Sera took a slight step back. She wasn’t pleased. She wasn’t pleased at all.
+++
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.?”
“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.”
He reached under his desk and produced a packet on the luxury condominiums at 48x48 SoHo.
“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 don’t know…”
“Did I mention the unit is on the 48th floor?”
I looked up at him
“The penthouse?”
+++
“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.”
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.
“…did you want to show me something”, she asked.
I handed her the open envelope from Columbia.
“Paris, you got into law school”, she said sounding more relieved than shocked, “I’m so proud of you.”
“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 can make it work.”
+++
“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.
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?”