“On the understanding that this is a short-term fling. We will not have a relationship. I will not be dumping Faith. And you will quietly go away when I tell you to.”

“Done,” she said, her eyes lighting with victory.

“Oh, and one more thing. You will address me as Master and you will not try to control anything. If you seek control or try any bullshit with me, you are out on your ass and I’ll never touch you again.” The last part wounded her pride, but she swallowed hard and nodded. No, she wasn’t submissive. But if she could pretend, then so could he.

“Yes, Master, whatever you want.”

Leo wasn’t stupid enough to think she meant it. Oh, she’d do things his way for the next week, but afterward she would make her play for more. At which point he’d put her ass on a plane and send her back to the other side of the country.

“Put your sweater on and let’s go.”

Caprice got her sweater back on three times faster than she’d gotten it off. Then Leo took her hand and poked his head out the door to check the hallway. It was clear, so he led her to the back stairs that went to the dungeon and locked the door behind them.

The dungeon was the equivalent of two stories down, with stone walls and ceiling that would filter out the loudest screams. Even so, he was gagging her. He didn’t want to hear her smart mouth. He only wanted to see her tears and hear muted, desperate mewls.

Between everything else and the vanilla nightmare he was living out upstairs, he needed this, no matter how much angst he knew it would cause or how much he couldn’t stand this woman. She was a willing victim, so he’d take it.

“Undress. Don’t seduce me. We don’t have time for that. And no eye contact. You look me in the eyes once, and I’ll stop.”

She quickly shifted her gaze to the ground and whispered, “Yes, Master.”

Impotent rage burned beneath the surface, but her determination to win the game she was playing and get her own needs met silenced any protest she may have made as she quickly disrobed.

Leo followed suit. The whole thing was so… perfunctory. There was no passion here, no feelings. It was as cold and sterile as his operating table. It was a quick wank in the shower while random images floated through his mind. Masturbatory.

When her clothing was on the floor, Leo grabbed her wrist none too gently and pushed her down on the spanking horse.

“Hey! Ow!” she protested.

“Shut your mouth.”

She did, and he tied her down. Caprice was ready to protest again when he took the ball gag from the toy box.

“What did I say about trying to control things?” he said, before she could open her mouth again.

“But… I…” For the first time in all the time he’d known her, she had a moment of true fear and indecision. Indecision looked strange on Caprice.