Well, but I have people now who do whatever I tell them to.
“Salvatore,” I say when I am done with a list of toys. “This needs to be organised, yesterday.” In any other circumstance, I would have felt weird instructing a brother to organise something for me to play with, but I don’t really know him, nor do we have a normal brother-sister relationship.
He looks at it, draws an eyebrow.
“You don’t need any of that,” he says.
“You don’t get to decide what I need or not,” I say.
He chuckles. “I don’t, I was merely saying the acquisition is not necessary.”
“And why is that?” I ask, staring intensely at him.
“Wait until we’re back, I will show you.”
I’m not sure I want to know. I can imagine what it is. And sure enough, when Salvatore opens the door to a room in the west wing, I walk straight into BDSM headquarters. Crosses and benches, torture chair and things I can’t name. I am not entirely averse to it, but I personally don’t need it.
I have written a paper on how healthy dominance can have positive effects on people with different psychological conditions, and therefore deep dived into that world, but I am not getting off on any of that. I can see where the interest in submission and dominance stems from, but the part where all those tools and furniture are needed is not my cup of tea.
“How many women have been in here?” I ask.
“That will stay a mystery no one can ever solve,” he says as he pulls open drawers.
“Here,” he says and throws a vibrator at me. I don’t catch it on purpose.
“I don’t want stuff that has been in other people,” I say. “Restock everything, and get rid of that chair thing; no one needs that.”
“Whatever you wish, sister,” he says.
“Don’t tell me you use it,” I say.
“When would I have the chance for it? I can’t be open with who I am. Giuseppe had the same talent as you for knowing stuff; otherwise, no one can know.”
“Statistically—“ I begin.
“Statistically, you should not be a Capo,” he says.
“Yet I am proving the point I tried making. I don’t care if you’re are. I prefer it.”
“Because you grew up in a city like London,” he says. “Was different in New York for me, too. But the world here is different.”
“Believe me, I know,” I say and take him in. “Would you leave if you could?” I ask after a moment. It is the first closer talk we have had, and I want to use it.
“You don’t leave. That’s it. You cannot leave until you are sent.”
“And what if I send you?”
“You are lost without me,” he says. “So, don’t. I am fine the way I am.”
“If you say so,” I say, turning to leave, but a thing that looks like gym equipment on the wall distracts me.
“What’s that?” I ask and point at it.
“A pulley,” he says. “For pet training.”
“Pet training?” I ask.
“On a leash, for a sub. Gets fixed on the collar and therefore has a range of motion to please different people in the room, but the dom has the control to pull the sub back at any time.”
