Page 75 of Torment

When she turned around, one of the girls was holding up a white lacy thong. Scarlet’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“Leather. I said le-ath-er.” She dragged out the word as if the girl didn’t understand it the first time.

Scarlet glanced from one pair of tits to the other. “Do you girls even talk?”

“We talk,” one answered while she pulled out something leather-ish from a suitcase. Scarlet eyed the piece, thinking it looked way too small to be anything she would wear. “There’s just no use in debating with you over what you are willing to wear and what you’re not.” She held up the black leather bustier in one hand, and what Scarlet could only assume was a black lace thong in the other. The girl smiled. “In the end, you’ll wear whatever the hell the master wants you to wear.”

Scarlet cocked a brow. “You meanyourmaster? Because he sure as fuck ain’t no master of mine.”

The woman started walking toward her. “Believe me, if Rex wants to be your master, he will be.”

“And if I belong to someone else?”

“He won’t care.”

Well, that sure as hell put Scarlet at ease—not.

Scarlet turned to the woman who was still standing silently by the door. So far, she hadn’t said a goddamn word, and there was a certain kind of sadness in her eyes that made Scarlet think she wasn’t there because she wanted to be.

“You okay back there?” Scarlet asked, and the woman’s eyes shot up to hers. All she did was nod, and then looked back down.

“We need to get you cleaned up first,” the other woman said, still clutching the leather ensemble in her hands. She turned her attention to the woman by the door. “Gaan tap vir die vrou ‘n bad. Sy stink.”

What the fuck was that? That was a language Scarlet had never heard before in her life. Was it German?

The woman by the door rushed to the en-suite bathroom and Scarlet heard the bath running. Even though under normal circumstances Scarlet would have been extremely excited over the prospects of taking a bath and washing the smell of horse dung and Brent’s touch off her, she was real nervous about what was going down.

Naked women, a room full of lingerie, a psychopath, and an attractive man with a demon possessed soul all made Scarlet less thrilled about the idea of taking a bath. In fact, she was willing to bet that the filthier she was, the better her chances of not getting touched—or worse. Although, this was a bunch of twisted individuals, and with her luck lately, they were probably into filthy woman smelling like horse crap.

It took the two bra-less wonders all of twenty minutes to get Scarlet washed and cleaned. Getting bathed by two half-naked women was not on Scarlet’s list of the top ten best experiences of her life. It was disturbing on the most uncomfortable level.

For the entire twenty minutes, Scarlet tried to get their names and make small talk. She was a nervous talker. But clearly, those two weren’t, and they gave Scarletnothing. No names, no details—nothing.

With a stomach that felt like it had been filled with cement and a throat that was about half an inch from closing completely, Scarlet endured the bath, dressing, and grooming from hell.

The strapless leather bustier pushed her cleavage up, making it seem even bigger than it already was. And the tiny black thong with the black garter belt and stockings completed the entire prostitute look.

“Okay, seriously,” Scarlet started. “I am not wearing this to dinner, unless you’re hiding a wrap-around dress around here somewhere.”

The woman with the sad eyes looked at her and smiled halfheartedly. If that was supposed to reassure Scarlet—epic fail.

The other woman started pulling a comb through Scarlet’s hair, but Scarlet jerked forward. “Excuse me. Did you not hear me? I am not going downstairs in this. So can you please give me my clothes back?”

She shook her head. “That is what you will be wearing. Now please stand still so I can finish your hair.”

Just when she stepped in front of Scarlet, reaching for her hair again, Scarlet head butted her right in the fucking face.

The woman doubled over, holding both her palms to her nose.

“You bitch!”

“Yes, well, I did tell you I’m not wearing this ridiculous prostitute outfit. This isn’tPretty Woman.”

The door flung open and a man Scarlet hadn’t seen before stormed in. “What the fuck is going on here?”

“She attacked me,” the woman with the now bleeding nose shouted.

When the man rushed toward Scarlet, she ran to the other side of the bed, and then over it when he followed her. As she jumped off the bed, she scraped her leg against the bedside cabinet, tearing the stocking she was wearing.

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