Hectic Elements (Fairview Academy #1)

Chapter 1

Mistress

Sinta Cora

Whoever said carbs after an intense workout was bad deserved to be executed via firing squad.

Or at least electrocuted a little.

I may not have been part of the workout, but I definitely had my client sweating and begging for mercy by the end. That counted, didn’t it?

Stuffing a huge bite of double cheese pepperoni pizza into my mouth and releasing a deep groan of satisfaction, I nodded to myself for picking the perfect treat to end my work shift with.

“Geez, do your clients get that kind of noise from you?” Sandy giggles from her makeup station right next to mine, fluffing her Marilyn Monroe styled platinum hair.

“Only if they happen to be absolute experts in giving head.” I mutter and take another bite.

“Soooo, once in a blue moon?” She cackles.

I shrug and nod with a grin.

Working in the world’s most exclusive Fae Pleasure Club wasn’t a bad job. In fact, it had been a bit of a lifesaver for me, and a surprising source of freedom.

I wasn’t anything like Sandy, that girl was a Fae rabbit shifter, who had the skills and ability to make a man forget everything except his bank pin.

She tended to get that out of them with a little sucking action though.

I admired her ability to be effortlessly sensual with every move.

But I loved what I did, and she herself had admitted she could never wield a whip like me.

Just like I would crack my skull if I tried to swing a pole.

My phone vibrates on the vanity.

Scooping it up, I scan the message from my sister.

Aletha

Sinta, the maid forgot to pick up my drycleaning again. You can do it on the way home, right? Also, I need my biology assignment done. Love you!

Taking a savage bite of my pizza, I toss my phone down a little harder than necessary.

“How much more do you need now?” Sandy asks as she stands and gives a little twirl before her mirror, adjusting her skin-tight white teddy.

I wipe my fingers on a napkin before reaching out and helping her fix the delicate lacy hem.

“After my session with Mrs Addams, I think it’s in the $1100 region.” I muse, tightening the strap of my fluffy black robe. “I haven’t counted it yet, but she always tips pretty good.”

“You have that old cougar wrapped around your finger, Mistress X.” She chortles and comes up behind me, running her fingers through my wavy black-brown hair.

It feels good, a casual comfort between friends. Rarely did I initiate touch outside of my clients, but Sandy was an exception.

“Mr Addams too.” I snort. “It’s a shame he was busy tonight. They always tip even better when I Dom them together.”

She hums and nods, gently braiding my hair for me like she does every night – sort of like our ritual.

My shift is finishing and hers is starting – we always have fifteen minutes to chat, help each other get organised, or de-organised in my case – and then wish each other luck.

I dare say Sandy was my only real friend, even if she was a decade older than me.

Since I sucked at makeup and anything to do with hair she gracefully took pity on me.

“Have you decided what you want to study yet?”

I shrug. “Something in welfare, or maybe with the Enforcers. I have a few ideas but so far I’m just going to keep my options open.”

“That’s good! It’ll help you figure out a direction, at the very least.” She hums, and I feel her tie off my hair, the short braid tapping my nape.

I beam at her through the mirror. “I think so. I’ve looked at quite a few athletic and artsy programs to start. I’ll go from there.”

Taking a seat back at her table, she pins me with a thoughtful expression. “Maybe you’ll be interested in—”

“Sinta!”

Turning swiftly as our manager, Ms Halliday, stands panting in the doorway, I raise a brow at her flustered appearance.

Usually suave and unruffled, her smart pink business suit and white lacey bodice beneath are in disarray, her sleek blonde hair windblown.

“Did you run here?” Sandy questions, gaping.

“Get to work, Sandy.” Ms Halliday snaps, her Dominance slashing through the room like an invisible whip.

Sandy, being far less Dominant than her, ducks her head and quickly scuttles off with a muffled goodbye.

I frown at our boss, my beast bristling in my middle, but I know better than to chastise her.

Ms Halliday tended to dock your shifts if you so much as glared at the egotistical woman.

Scales coiled beneath my skin, my beast eager to push our own Dominance into the room, but I resist it. Getting into a pissing match with your boss was not smart.

“Something wrong, Ms Halliday?”

“No. Not wrong, per-say.” She mutters, straightening herself out with an indignant sniff. “I understand you have no more bookings for tonight, but your services have been requested.”

Eyebrow twitching, I try to hold in my surprise and immediate feeling of exhaustion.

I’d been looking forward to an early night, finishing off some schoolwork and maybe eating a pint of ice cream while I watched a movie.

Somehow sensing my thoughts – it was probably obvious in my slouched posture – she sighs and takes a firm step forward.

“This is a very important client, Sinta. A client we’d like to become a regular. This order is coming from above my head – from the Executives themselves.” She imparts.

Usually leaving the running of things to Ms Halliday, it was unusual for them to interfere. I’d heard of them doing it, but not to me.

Feeling like she was backing me into a corner, I sigh and shake my head. “My room is already being cleaned—”

“I’ve given orders for it to be sanitised and set up again. Everything will be ready in about ten minutes.” She interrupts, her hands going to her hips in what we have dubbed her ‘power move’. “I understand you are tired, but this gentleman has offered to pay $1500 for a last-minute hour-long session and went so far as to hint at a very healthy tip. It’d be very stupid of you to turn this offer down, Sinta. Impressing this male could lead to an attractive increase of cash for you.”

$1500 for an hour session? And a tip?

“He wants a female Domme? Or a submissive?”

“He’s booked the Domme experience. He has been walked through the rules, understands the boundaries in your contract, and signed all the paperwork. We were originally going to pair him with Avarice, but he expressed displeasure after meeting her.”

A lion shifter and a little too familiar with her clients, Avarice had a bad habit of being possessive and overly affectionate.

More than once she’d agreed to Dom a married couple but quickly become possessive of the male and engineered a very dirty divorce.

While I firmly believed in minding my own business, even I could agree she took it too far and was not suited to all clientele.

“And my cut of the fee?”

“60%, of course. And whatever tip the client leaves, as usual.” She confirms. “He has already purchased a Platinum membership and spent an incredible amount of money here tonight for his birthday celebration. We are determined to secure his patronage, Miss Cora, and I would very much appreciate it if you were to assist with this.”

Eyebrows hidden well within my hairline, I blink dumbly for a moment, my gaze dipping down to the pizza box on the vanity.

60% of $1500 was roughly $900, plus a tip. That was almost enough to pay for my entrance to the Academy next year, and then all I’d have to worry about is money for essentials.

Not to mention it meant I could afford to cut back on my schedule, take less sessions, have some actual down time between work and school.

“I’d have to freshen up. Change into a new outfit—”

“Yes, yes. You have ten minutes to do so – I’m going to go do a final talk with the client and then escort him to your room. He will be waiting for you there.” She spins sharply and marches for the door, pausing long enough to add, “Since it is his birthday, put a little extra treatment into your routine, please.” She orders and leaves.

Frozen for only a moment, I’m quick as I shrug off my robe on the way to my locker.

Selecting a lacy two-piece decorated with delicate silver chains, I slip it straight on.

Yanking out the tie and shaking my hair from the loose braid, I don’t have time to do anything fancy with it, so I yank the strands back and scoop up a comb to trap it all into a severe pony tail.

Then I swipe a thin line of kohl beneath each eye, and a swipe of mascara on the thick black lashes framing my acidic emerald green eyes.

Taking a step back, I critically eye my appearance.

I was fine-boned, my tanned olive skin lightly dusted with freckles, had long lean limbs, sharp features, and a dusting of green scales that spread from my chest to over my shoulders – representing my latent snake form.

Clients thought it was exotic.

Applying deodorant and a vanilla body mist, I slip into a pair of black strappy red-soled Louboutin’s provided by work – the only uniform we were actually forced to wear.

Covering up with my robe for the walk to my designated room, I quickly run to brush the pizza from my teeth and pop in a mint.