Page 43 of Tangled in Knots

Which she does, beautifully.

“Be a good little slut and wash your body,” I tell her, raising my voice to be heard over the water.

The girl struggles to see as I spray the water at the crown of her head, where I won’t leave marks, but will affect her abilityto see. Crouching down, she crawls naked to the caddy now that she can see it as she wipes her face. The position allows me to get her back and ass, all places that hurt to be sprayed with this hose.

Scrambling, she pulls out the soap, and begins to wash herself while I continue to fuck with her for giggles.

“Stand up,” I bark, though it doesn’t have any power behind it. She obeys me, because I will hurt her if she doesn’t.

Fuck, I may hurt her either way at this rate.

Taking my finger off the trigger of the sprayer, I watch as she continues to scrub her body, despite the way I stopped hitting her body with the water. Good girl.

I wash her body with the sprayer, telling her when to turn, my dark brown eyes shrewdly watching the soap run down the drain.

“Shampoo your hair, just your scalp,” I tell her watching the way she takes direction. “My name is Ophelia, and I don’t fucking care what yours is. You will do what you’re told or I will hurt you. You’re in my damn auction house, and I make the rules.”

The girl nods, shivering as she finishes shampooing her hair. Changing the setting on the sprayer to a more rain-like water spray, I hand it to Morris.

“Rinse her hair,” I grunt, watching as he moves toward her without hesitation. Morris does a solid job of spraying her down, and I notice how she watches him with wide eyes, but doesn’t flinch away.

He’s definitely going to be an asset.

Conditioning her hair goes well too, and she brushes out the tangles without complaint. I pull out my phone and text one of my girls, to tell her the omega will need an all over body wax as well, and to ensure she won’t be too red afterward.

I couldn’t care less about her pain levels, I simply don’t want the audience to be able to tell.

Once she’s clean, I toss her a towel to dry off with.

“Hurry up,” I growl, stressing about my timetable. With any luck, Rock will be dicking down his choice of little whores, and I’ll be able to work in peace.

The omega does what I need her to do, and I yank away the towel to throw it into the hamper. I’m not concerned with any modesty she may have.

“Come along,” I command, turning away as Morris grabs her bicep and pulls her to follow.

Stumbling behind me, the omega doesn’t fight him, in a daze between the fading effects of the sedative she was on and shock. I walk boldly across the building, where people are working, cleaning, or preparing.

This omega may be the best part of the auction, but we are also selling a few others before her. I need to keep the buyers on edge before the main event. Being who I am means that I’ve learned the ins and outs of what alphas’ needs are, how to drive traffic to make the best money, and how to build excitement.

I simply need to finish preparing the girl with the few short hours left. The auction is happening at five in the afternoon, early enough for a Tuesday that no one will expect it. There have been people sniffing around my building in an attempt to catch me in the act of auctioning humans.

In another area of the building I house animals, priceless paintings and artwork. Intermittently, I’ll sell these items at auction to keep the police off my back.

I’m simply trying to eke out an existence. Let me live!

One of my best wax girls opens the door to the room, the light bright inside. The omega is having a difficult time regulating, and that’s done on purpose. I don’t enjoy bright lights either, I’vejust managed to learn to deny my omega-like tendencies while I’m here.

I’m a money making vessel without feelings, sympathy, or vulnerability. I don’t give two shits about these people.

“Up she goes on the bed,” I tell Morris with a nod.

It’s clear he doesn’t understand what this room is, though he helps her up onto the bed regardless. I tie her down with the leather restraints, ensuring she can’t move as Iona begins to get the wax sticks and hard wax.

While it’ll hurt less, that’s not why she’s using this. The purpose behind this particular wax is so that the omega on the table’s pussy isn’t bright red. No one needs to see that shit.

Hissing with wide eyes, the omega whimpers, confused by why she’s here. Morris moves over to her head and holds it down with his large hands, not using a word to restrain her.

“No one likes a hairy pussy,” I tell her, shrugging as Iona gets to work. The girl hisses and whimpers with each yank of the hard wax, the room quiet except for those noises.

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