It was much later, somewhere in her living room, Karen sat in her comfiest chair as each word of Easton-Ellis’ infamous novel trickled into her head.

She wore nothing but a sports bra and some sewed-off leggings — which were more pouch than pants at this point — the gently-circulating air cooling her skin as the sweat of her exertions evaporated slowly. Her ebook was much more engaging than the beat of her digital trainer had been, jamming her thoughts with endless rhythmic commands as the reduced woman had tensed and twisted on the floor for an hour, Eva helping here and there.

The yoga mat helped some, but it was still hard to let herself just relax, left there on the cold hard ground to do her workout. Karen’s tiny body didn’t twist like it used to, and her muscles ached.

Then again, she was sore for sure, but she had skipped her exercise routine the day before. Or did fucking count?

Her brain was far sorer, as a whole day of messages getting injected into her train of thought made the inane ramblings of a vain businessman in the 1980s all the more abrasive.

Karen ached for the ability to skim a book like she had done in her youth, but the primitive e-reader she had in her collar, her one form of direct entertainment, wasn’t made for more than the handful of people in the world with her… condition. It was clunky at best, and slow.

“Stop.” Karen begged.

Stop what?

The reply startled her. This had happened yesterday. When she became tired or distracted, wires got crossed. Now the stream of prose had indeed stopped, only for another voice to interject.

“Eva? Is it dinner time already?”

No, this is Fergus.

Damn it. “Disregard.”

A heartbeat.

Another.

A tense breath slipped from her neck, puffing into the chasm of uncertainty that hovered over her. Karen felt the gears turning in her head again, the endless second-guessing of his intentions or his perception of her. Living in this state of indecision and flux was fucking unbearable!

“Let’s get something straight. I asked you to do me a favor yesterday. That was a very intimate request. It doesn’t mean you’re going to parade me around like any other woman. I am not a normal woman, obviously, but I’m also your boss, like I said yesterday… awkward. For you and me both. We are not going out. I’ve done that whole wine and dine charade years ago, I don’t care to repeat it.”

Karen surprised herself by saying too much, too fast, her carefully-trained attention drifting enough to “say” what she was really thinking again.

Fair enough, lol. I could skip all the normy stuff, honestly.

“Keep saying ‘lol’ and we can skip the rest too. But yes, that’s what I’m saying. This doesn’t. No. I don’t fit the template, so let me do the leading until you get your hands on me, got it?”

I can do that.

“Good. Now, I want to know what you were saying last night.”

What do you mean?

“I’m deaf, Fergus, not dumb. I could feel you speaking when you were lifting me on your lap.”

There was a long pause. He had definitely said something and it was dirty, something he didn’t want Karen to hear. She had to make sure he knew she was game, even though she had put a damper on his ridiculous dinner idea.

“Or did you forget lifting me by my tits, up and down, as I stroked your cock?”

I most definitely did not forget that.

“Good. Let’s hear it, then.”

Another pause.

I called you a sex-toy.

Karen froze again, suddenly feeling her exposed skin catch a chill, the dark silence pressing in a little closer. A sex-toy… a pillow… a thing…

The one upside of losing her head for Karen had been never catching sight of her new body, even though she knew it — and its limits — so well by now that she could practically “see” it in her mind’s eye; the only eye she had left… a torso with nearly nothing above the shoulders, dressed up in a costume of conformity, wriggling like a fucking worm on the floor… being picked up the few feet it took to sit on her own loveseat. It was enough to make her close that eye tightly, just keep moving forward…

But at heart, Karen still saw herself as a full woman — albeit in a smaller package — and this was a vicious reminder otherwise.

But Fergus didn’t mean it viciously… he was respectful and helpful, or so it seemed. He could have left early that morning when he woke up, he could have driven home when she dismissed him after work, he could have taken advantage of her any number of times last night. Yet he hadn’t. He didn’t get points for not raping her, but it didn’t hurt his luck.

Karen sobered for a second and let her emotions clear to reveal her true feelings: she hated her vulnerability and helplessness — yes — the lack of connection. She always had. It was the only thorn in her side that hadn’t dulled over the years, and usually she would loathe being objectified even further… but Karen didn’t really hate the thought of being a sex-toy or a pillow to Fergus…

She hated that she was starting to get off to the idea.

“Oh really, is that all? Fucktoy has a better ring to it, no? I thought you would be calling me a worthless cunt for all the hell I put you through in the office.”

Wait. Are you just making my life hard to get my dick harder?

“No. Maybe. Is it working?”

You’re such a bitch.

That’s the stuff. He needed a bit of hand-holding (from the least-qualified person imaginable) but he was getting there. The torso on her chair squirmed a bit, her hips twitching, vaginal muscles tightening around nothing. If only she had her—

“That’s it.”

What?

Oh shit, Karen felt herself slip again, letting her mind dwell in dirty places that had been off-limits for so long. She had to take control of this situation, and she had an idea.

“You’re such a slow learner, Fergus. I still can’t believe it took you so long to even feel me up. I really am just a few holes and some soft middle bits aren’t I?”

You think you’re worth getting fired over, slut?

Ooph, a bit tacked-on but he was learning quick.

“Happened before.”

Of course. I’m probably the latest in a long line of assistants who’ve had their way with you after hours, aren’t I? I saw how wet you were, lying there on your bed. I could just stare at you leaking and blow gently, tease you, watch you squirm, useless…

The cool air almost knew what it was doing as it tickled Karen’s skin, and she felt a hot density grow, pressure pulsing in her groin, trapped by the tight spandex wrapped around her hips and bum. As hard as it was to get words out of him over text, he could write…

What was Wade’s favorite position?

Oh, that question was out of left-field. Was he jealous now? Disappointing.

“Wade never made it this far, and he never would have, if I’m being honest. Insufferable.”

Then whoever brought you coffee in your last job, I’m sure.

“Nope. Hate to break it to you, Fergus, but the last guy I enjoyed was Eva’s predecessor, months ago. Over a year now. And yes, he got fired for it. Taking advantage of a client is a very grave offense, you know.”

Unconscionable. I’m sure my position is safe, though.

“If you keep up your performance from last night, we’ll see. But is this all worth the risk? Can you keep my cunt satisfied? Its quite important to a little sex toy like me, you know.”

Karen felt like she was on the edge of her seat, nothing to lose. She had never referred to herself ‘out loud’ in such denigrating terms, but it was exciting, reminding her of dirty words whispered in her ear in the heat of a passionate night, long ago.

Karen let him suck on that for a heartbeat or two before adding. “Or will an email slip to HR?”

I write all your emails, not happening.

“You really think I’m that helpless, I can fucking text you with a single thought, you imbecile.”

You are that helpless. I’ve seen it. You spit-up down your own chest if you drink coffee too fast. You don’t even know when I’m in the room. I could be there in your home right now, couldn’t I?

Karen twisted her chest in a futile reflex to ‘look’, before realizing of course she was still alone; Eva was likely a room or two over, cooking up a brothy soup for the next week’s lunches, or she was on her phone waiting for her next task. Karen was too invested here to ponder. Fergus continued:

I mean, when’s the last time you got off by yourself? I’m sure your insatiable cunt misses that, doesn’t it?

Karen smiled inside. Fergus was right, her emptiness was so untenable sometimes it practically ached, but he had walked right into her trap.

“Don’t get so cocky. Not as long ago as you might think.”

There was a pause, his thumbs were truly dragging.

I’m all ears.

“That makes one of us.”

Ha. You actually have me curious, how do you masturbate…?

Karen took a breath. She had his full attention now, and had to pay such a peek into her privacy the respect it deserved, making him wait, before her thoughts slipped to back then…

“Lucas, that handsy carer, became just a bit over-excited the first time I asked him to finger me in the bath for a bit of relief. I was so tense, you see. My last job was much worse. You think your co-workers are imbeciles, you have no idea.”

I never said that.

“Oh. Well now you know, they are. Anyways, I got his hopes up, and before long he offered more than just his hands. Bedtime with him became a treat, then a ritual, and for the first time since my accident I could sleep soundly with a good fuck, often. It became as regular as my melatonin, and way more effective. There’s nothing quite like it.

“But Lucas didn’t work every day. He had some nights off and another carer would check in on me, Eva, before I knew her as well. But I still needed a night cap, and you used to be right. There was nothing I could do. Lucas saw this, made a few orders, and got poor little me some toys. A vibrator, of course, along with some ben-wa balls that I could play with all on my own while he was away. It takes time, and a mountain of concentration, but it gets me there. How do you think I held you so firmly last night? I’m probably out of shape by now.”

Wow. Why didn’t we play with those last night?

“Because they’re lost.”

What do you mean?

“When Lucas got ahead of himself and started slipping fingers and more when he wasn’t asked, I got rid of him and swore never to go there with a carer again. Either he took the evidence of his misdeeds with him, or they are still in a box somewhere in my house. He used my card, so if they’re gone we can add stealing to his resume.

“But there’s no way for me to look around, obviously, and I’m damn well not asking Eva.”

I’ll be right over.

Well, that was easy.

“Eva, how would you like the night off again?”

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