Page 27 of Vicious

She tenses at that, her fidgeting coming to a stop. “Yes,” she says, pressing her back more firmly against the bed frame. “Where is he? Have you talked to him? How is he doing?”

I pretend to buff my nails. “Hmm? I might have. But what’s that information worth to you?”

May scowls at me. “I’m asking nicely.”

I smile back at her. “And I’m telling you it’ll cost you.”

“So now we’re negotiating?” she asks dourly. “I thought you got to do whatever you wanted anyway.”

I start to undo my tie and nod. “I do. But it wouldn’t kill you to play along, Ah-May. You could beg nicely. You could offer to sweeten the deal somehow.” I approach her with my tie in hand. “Who knows? You might be able to win a few gifts, if you please me enough.”

“Stop calling me that,” she says out of what I think is reflex by this point. “And what do you want me to beg for?” She makes beg sound like a dirty word.

“Information about your father?” I hold my hand out to her, but she doesn’t take it. “Books, movies, anything to keep you entertained down here?”

Her gaze is murderous, but I can see that she’s already considering it. She wants those things, and badly, though I’m not sure how far she’ll go to give me what I want.

“And what do you want? For me to lie here and pretend to like it?” she asks.

“Lying there is hardly the same as pretending to like it.” I grab her wrist, and she struggles against me only for a second before settling down and glaring. “I believe active participation is what would make it seem like you were enjoying it.”

“If you want active participation, find someone who wants you. I’m sure some gold-digger would love to play billionaire fantasies with you,” May says, sounding surly—but resigned.

I loop my tie around her wrist and tie it off securely, then go for her other hand.

She pulls it back. “If I let you tie me up, you’ll tell me about my father?”

“Sure,” I say, holding my hand out to her. “Just give me your hand.”

May obeys with obvious reluctance, letting me take and bind her wrist. I leave a little bit of slack between her wrists, then use that extra length of my tie to pull her arms up and over her head. She gasps as I force her to stretch out on the bed again.

I finish by hooking the tie to one of the hooks on the headboard.

May tries to shift her position, but I place my hand onto her stomach to keep her flat on the bed.

“You look good like that,” I tell her. “The dress is cute. I’m honestly impressed you were able to fashion something decent out of just a sheet.”

She breathes out slowly, her fingers spreading then going back into small fists. “I can do a lot out of a little,” she says after a moment, the truth obviously difficult for her to admit to.

I imagine with the life she’s had with her father, she’s had to grow used to that.

“Your Baba is out of the hospital,” I tell her as a small reward. I trail my hand up to her breast, which is covered by the makeshift dress. I can already imagine what she would look like in a real dress.

What she would be able to make, if she had the proper resources for it.

She looks at me expectantly, but when I don’t continue, she prompts, “And? Is he back at work, is he doing well?” She bites her lip. “Well, you probably don’t care about that, do you?”

“Do you think he should be back at work?” I ask, tugging on the fabric until one breast is exposed. “A debilitating injury like that means he probably needs a lot more than just a few weeks of bed rest.”

May squirms, and I lightly squeeze her nipple. “What would I have to do for you to help him?” she asks, trying for dignity but not managing anything even close.

I untie the makeshift sash, and it feels like unwrapping a present. I slowly push the fabric off the front of her body, revealing her beautiful skin to me. I bend down to kiss her navel, and she trembles underneath my touch.

“You want me to pay for his medical bills?” I suggest, before dipping my tongue into her belly button.

She hesitates, fingers flexing again. “He’ll need help with… with rent. Groceries. You know perfectly well that I worked—” Another tease of her belly button makes her pause. “He can’t do it alone.”

I cup her breasts and lean up so I can suck on one nipple. She tries to stay still, but I can feel every squirm and tremble. When I pull away, her face is flushed red.

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