Page 52 of Shameful Addictions

When it was over, she lay back on the couch, no longer to straighten up no matter what anyone threatened her with.

“That’s all for today’s video,” she rasped, voice rough and strangled. “See you tomorrow. Let me know in the comments if you tried any of this.”

Mamba approached and stood over her. He picked up one of the clothespins and tucked it into his pocket, as if it was a party favor.

“Three times,” he said.

“Too many?” she murmured.

“More than enough, Cuntflaps,” he corrected in his neutral hiss. “A beautiful performance. I can’t wait to see how you top it in the future.”

Charlotte lifted her head.

And she smiled at Mamba. “Sir?”

“What is it, slut?”

“I think… I think, as Cuntflaps, that I’m starting to understand.”

“And what about as Charlotte?”

She murmured, thoughtfully, ponderingly, “Who is Charlotte?”

Who is she? Not me. Not anymore. Today, I have gone past that. Today, I fully transformed into the person Mamba wants me to be.

Chapter twenty

Wet sticky

Mambasentheranemail just before she was about to go to bed that night, instructing her to show up to the studio earlier than usual so he could show her something. The lack of information had her concerned and she sat back in her chair, nibbling on her nails.

She thought she had been doing so well and she was even beginning to enjoy the work. She couldn’t fathom what she had done to upset him.

No,she tried to tell herself.It could be anything. He isn’t exactly the kind of man who likes to chat. He’d rather go out and get things done.

There was little she could do other than show up early as he had ordered her to.

She slept badly that night. It took far too much coffee to chase away the exhaustion and it left her jittery, unable to hold still. She paced her diminutive apartment until it was time to leave.

On her way out of the building, she passed a woman she knew by sight, though not by name. This being a smaller apartment complex in general, there were a few people like that that she was somewhat familiar with.

The woman paused as they passed and then turned back to Charlotte. “Excuse me.”

Charlotte looked back over her shoulder. “Huh?”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologized. “This probably seems like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

The hairs on the back of Charlotte’s neck stood on end and she stepped back, putting a bit of distance between herself and the other woman. At any moment, this neighbor of hers would recognize her and start attacking her, like everyone else did when they saw her.

But the woman didn’t seem inclined to burst into a rage. She chewed on her lip and studied Charlotte, then gave a good-natured shrug. “Oh, well. I must be imagining things. Sorry for being weird.”

“It’s okay,” Charlotte said. Her mouth and throat were so dry that she hissed the words, like Mamba.

The woman turned away.

Charlotte blurted out, “Do you have kids?”

Her neighbor frowned. “A teen daughter?”

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