Defining Giulia: A Darker Love Story (Lovers of Leigh Book 2) by Gerry Pelser

Author:Gerry Pelser [Pelser, Gerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2021-05-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen.

1

She chose a different road. One that was dark and deserted. It was late Good Friday evening, or early Saturday morning, depending on who you ask. Half-past two, to be exact, and the streets were eerily empty. She chose the turns at random, allowing the road to lead her where it wanted to, and settled into an easy pace.

Giulia had just finished a fourteen-hour shift at the new branch of the Half Tun, and too exhausted not to run. She had found that her work life drained her physically, but not intellectually. And when the time came for bed, no matter how tired her body was, her mind would keep her awake.

The only cure was to run.

Also, if she did not run The Dog would grow bigger. There were only two known ways to control The Dog. At first, there was only running. But now there was Miss McCabe.

Slap-slap-slap, slap-slap-slap, slap-slap-slap…

There wasn’t much interaction with Miss McCabe lately. Work took all of her time, but the experiences with Miss were powerful and had a way of consuming the mind. In the photo shoots and the domination games, Giulia had found a sense of security. A safety net. She may not speak that much to Miss McCabe anymore, but the mere knowledge she was there lent a sense of sanctuary.

And how long do you think that safety net will last if you never actually speak to your alleged Domme? The Dog barked from behind a bush.

“Shut the fuck up,” she whisper-shouted.

But The Dog was right, of course. It’s been almost two months since they went shopping for a wardrobe for her z-card shoot, and they have not seen each other since, never mind photographed. Only an occasional WhatsApp, which usually only gets answered days later.

Slap-slap-slap, slap-Miss-slap, call-Miss-slap, call-Miss-soon, call-Miss-soon…

“Okay, I’ll call her when I catch a break,” she promised into the dark, empty night. The first shift of the Easter weekend had just ended, and the gratuities and commissions she earned doing promotions work at the Half Tun were the most she’d ever made in a single day. She received a meagre, simple, rate-per-hour salary. Slave wages, really. No work, no pay. But on tips and gratuities, what you make, you keep. And with Giulia’s long legs in high heels, and ample cleavage plunging into the purposefully too-low neckline of the purposefully slightly too-small black dress, all topped by a big wide smile and warm-but-fake laugh, the gratuities rolled in thick and fast. And with three more Easter weekend days ahead, she could make herself a tidy little sum. All cash. Cold hard cash stored in the bottom drawer of her desk at home.

After the long weekend, things were bound to slow down at the Half Tun, and she would need a break. Spending fourteen hours on heels for nice wads of cash was one thing. But hanging around, bored out of your skull with nothing but an empty tray for company, completing an eight-hour shift on a Tuesday for nothing but a handful of coins, did not seem like the best use of her time.

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