Reed's Sex Academy

I look back at Arielle, and she’s already on her way out.

“Ari,” Mr. Reed says, “Clayton and Sebastian called. See what they need.”

She nods and walks out, leaving us alone.

I bite my lower lip and my eyes wander aimlessly around the room as I sit down. A rush of anxiety fills my entire body, leaving no place untouched.

I remember crying in his other office earlier today. I wonder if he does too.

He hasn’t moved from the window, his hands tucked in his pockets. I bet he wishes he could smoke in peace.

“Miss Beauvoir,” he starts, “are you going to be difficult?”

“Oh, I…”

What kind of question is that? No. At least, I hope not. Depending on what ‘difficult’ means to him.

His question takes me aback, though I understand why he’s asking it. I was kind of a bitch to him earlier.

“You’ve got an attitude. Girls like you usually don’t make it here,” he clarifies.

A nervous laugh builds up in my throat. “Because you can’t do whatever you want with them?” I scoff.

And there it is… The bitch is out again. And there’s nothing I can do to stop her. I curse under my breath right after I voice my disagreement.

“Because none of our clients want them,” he says, finally taking a seat in front of me. “Miss Beauvoir…the only reason I called you in here is because you’ve got a pretty face. And one of my clients has been looking for one just like yours. But the attitude has to go. You’re not special. Or better than anyone else in here. Got it?”

I swallow back another stream of tears. Fuck this. The guy really is an asshole.

But this time, I’m not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me cry because of what he says.

“Got it?” he asks again.

I nod, even though my heart is racing and my anger is on the verge of blowing up.

“Good. Now, hit me with your questions. This is the only time I’ll ever answer them.”

I breathe deeply and try to concentrate my rapid stream of thoughts on one single question.

“What am I going to do here? How does this training work?”

“We only focus on one type of sex. Submissive. And for most girls, that’s easy. They love it. They just need to be trained to our clients’ standards. Which, depending on the client, can be more or less challenging.”

“Challenging how?”

“Water bondage. Double penetration. Everybody has their kinks, and we try to bring the right people together to keep all parties satisfied.” He cocks his head to the right, as if this is something everyone asks and he’s got the answer memorized already.

“Oh-kay.” I think for a moment. “And what does this…studying involve?”

The corner of his mouth goes up in a satisfactory smile. “It means getting fucked. Doing what you’re told. Learning to control your impulses. And not letting feelings get in the way.”

I realize I’ve been holding my breath, so I finally exhale long and hard, trying to recenter myself among all the anxiety.

“You, um…you didn’t ask what my kinks are,” I tell him, my knuckles turning white from how hard I’m clenching my hands together in my lap.

He nods and trails his fingers through his lush, dark hair. “You picked ‘beginner’ when you submitted the form. What that tells us is you don’t know what your kinks are. So, we’re going to explore them until you find out.”

“And…”

“Yes?” He puts another cigarette between his lips, lights it up, and inhales, completely unfazed by the conversation. He probably does this every day, after all.

“What if…what if there’s something I don’t feel comfortable with?”

“Did you not read the terms and conditions when you submitted your application?” He blows out the smoke above his head.

Well, fuck.

“No, I did! It’s just—”

“It’s just that you didn’t. The next time you lie to me, Evelyn, I’m not going to let it go without proper punishment.”

I swallow into my dry throat and wish I could take a sip of something right now. This man sees right through me, so I don’t try to convince him I wasn’t lying. Instead, I give him a nod and lower my gaze to my lap.

“You can say no to whatever you don’t want to do. But the more you refuse to try things, the harder it will be to match you with a high-paying contract later on.”

I breathe out, relieved that this isn’t going to force me to do things I don’t want to do. If anything, it sounds pretty good so far. I don’t even care about being matched with a contract because, like I promised myself, once this training is over, I’m out.

“I’m going to assume that’s all the questions you have then.” He pulls out a sheet of paper from the thin stack in front of him.

“Can I please have a cigarette?” I rush to ask before he dismisses me. I haven’t had one since this morning, and him smoking one after another is seriously taunting me.

“No,” he rasps, completely void of emotion. “And you’re not going to smoke any from now on. Most clients don’t want their girls smelling like ashtrays.”

Yeah, you wish, I think to myself. As if I can’t go to the store and get myself some in a few minutes.

The corner of his mouth tilts up into a smile, as if he knows exactly what I was just thinking of doing. Still, if he knows, he doesn’t say anything about it.

He slides the paper in his hand in front of me. “Sign here,” he tells me, handing me a pen.

I reach for the pen, and our fingers touch ever so slightly, sending an electric shock throughout my body.

My eyes round at the corners at the strange sensation, and I lift my gaze to meet his. But other than frowning at the pen we’re both touching, he keeps silent and backs away, his jaw clenching on its own accord.

Okay, then.

My hand hovers above the paper and I can feel my pulse racing against my skin. Am I really doing it? Am I really agreeing to train as an escort?