Learning to Trust: Limits by B. B. Roman

***
     
    After a restless night of tossing and turning, I awoke with a raging headache , my brain feeling like a transplant that my body was entirely rejecting. Damnit! I had allowed myself to drink far more than I should have. Honestly, I wasn't a very good drunk, so I was always taking a risk when I did such things— especially since I was currently in the professional business of keeping secrets.
    Nobody was in the room with me, a fact that startled me . For some reason I thought that Roland had stepped into my room and woke me. I figured he would tell me to get dressed and that it was time to go. I'd reluctantly crawl out of bed and get dressed and—
    No, nothing.
    I rolled over and checked my phone and saw that while I had slept in later than usual, it was still early in the day. Shower .
    The hot water felt especially good and it helped to calm the pounding in my head. I had made a routine out of staring at myself in the mirror before and after I got out of the shower, looking over the details of my transformation from dirty to clean . Today, it seemed more drastic than usual. It went far deeper than just physical cleanliness.
    It was always my face in the mirror, always that same Marisa that I'd known forever. However, inevitably I always started to see someone else, someone troubled and conflicted, someone that possessed more evil than old Marisa ever had. No, I hadn't directly done anything bad that I knew of—but just being around it made me feel like I was absorbing a little at a time , like the fluoride that we all consumed via drinking water. Trace amounts could really add up over time , even if it didn't ever seem like much in the moment.
    I walked out of the shower in my robe and noticed a hand-scribbled note stuck to the inside of my door. It hadn't been there earlier.
    Pet,
    Business calls, so wear your sexiest and best business attire. If I can't resist you, I'll know you've chosen right. I'll see you downstairs when you're ready.
    -Roland
    I immediately knew what route I would take—I went for the same blouse/skirt combo I'd worn early on in my interview with Roland, sealing the deal with the fancy high-heels he had bought for me to wear with the dress he had picked out. The skirt was high and the blouse was low, the perfect amount of sexy. Today, I wouldn't worry about body image or anything else. Per Roland's words, I had a purpose to serve, and in my current state, I would definitely serve it. My cleavage was nice and soft, ample enough to cause a distraction if I neede d one. And then there were legs and my butt and—
    After applying some subtle make-up—just some eye shadow and blush seemed adequate for today—I headed downstairs to meet Roland. He jumped out from around the corner and hugged me something fierce.
    "Roland! Geez, you scared the hell out of me!" His lips met mine and gave me a few quick kisses. I kissed back instinctively, not necessarily because I wanted to.
    "I couldn't resist pouncing on you, my pet! I'm the hungry lion and you're my prey!" I understood the visual, but that certainly didn't make it the most comforting choice of words. He was wearing jeans and a black dress shirt; I had expected him to be dressed up as well for some reason. It always made me laugh when I thought about him riding in a limo wearing jeans for some reason.
    "Real nice, Roland," I said. "You've got coffee for me? You made me drink way too much last night. I don't get how you're so energetic."
    "I've already had coffee ," he said, his growing smile affecting the timbre of his voice. "A lot of coffee. Plus, I'm excited about my pet. You're going to do such a good job today!"
    "I hope so," I said with reluctance.
    "You look positively delicious ," he said. He nuzzled the swell of my breasts and planted a deep kiss there.
    "Okay, okay," I said, gently pulling him away. "I thought we had business to do."
    "Oh, right. I'm glad I've got you here to keep me on track! I get so distracted sometimes." His eyes