Free Whiplash by Yvie Towers

but there were two doors on the adjacent walls over there.  One, I could see through the cracked door, led to a washroom. The other was fully closed and had slats built into the door panel.  I went to open it, and found it absolutely filled with dresses of all kinds – all red.  All along the floor of the closet were dainty little shoes of varying styles and height – also all red.
    Rushing over to check the chest of drawers, I found rows and rows of fine lace brassieres and slips, all neatly folded and separated by color.  Hanging up in the chifferobe were exquisite corsets made of satin and lace, and few attached drawers contained matching garters and hosiery.  I made sure not to disturb anything as I closed all the doors and drawers of the furniture, then I made my way to the washroom.
    The lavender aroma was strongest in there, and I sourced it as coming from a small crock sitting on a porcelain basin.  It was filled with oil and crushed flowers, and was being warmed from underneath by a small candle.  Ten or twelve other small candles were on top of the basin as well, bathing the room with a warm, golden glow.  Soft, cloud-like bubbles threatened to spill over the sides of a gleaming white clawfoot tub.  Next to the tub was a leather-clad footstool and a small vanity stand that had lavender bubbling oil and a sponge sitting atop it.
    “Go on now, Number 10,”  Vivian coaxed from behind me.  Her silent entry into my domicile startled me, and I almost lost my footing whilst spinning around to see her.  She chuckled to herself and then smiled warmly at me.  I was a bit taken aback by her kind, likeable attitude, so I didn’t return the gesture.  Instead I just stood there and waited for her to clarify. 
    “Get yourself cleaned up and dressed in one of your robes.  Meet back downstairs in the parlor in half an hour.  There’s a clock on the wall that says nine thirty now.  When the little arm gets to the ten, and the long –
    “I can tell time, Miss Vivian.  I understand.”  I didn’t say it to be rude or ungrateful.  I guess I just wanted her to know that she didn’t have to coddle me – that I would be fine on my own to bathe myself and read the time.  Of course, she misread my intent and bit back at me with her signature brand of passive aggression.
    “Yes, of course you can Number 10.   Please forgive me.  Sometimes I forget what fine women Julian has purchased.”  She did a poor job of hiding the smirk on her lips before turning to leave the room.
    At ten o’clock sharp, I arrived in the parlor. Eight of the other girls were already down there, and everyone had on a different colored robe. Vivian and Julian were there as well, whispering back and forth to each other.  We were instructed to fall into line according to number, and just as we’d settled into place, Hannah came barreling down the stairs in a pure white robe.  Her slight tardiness didn’t go unnoticed by any of us, but rather than lashing out punishment, Julian spoke to us instead.
    “Well, now that we are all present, let’s get our affairs settled before it gets to be too late.”  He unmolded himself from his resting place next to the fireplace, lazily pulled off his suit jacket, and draped it carefully over the back of a nearby chaise. He looked down at the floor for a long moment, his hands resting low on his hips and causing the breadth of his shoulders to become more evident.
    I couldn’t deny it to myself that Julian Devereaux was particularly appealing at that moment.  He’d always looked the same ever since I’d had the displeasure of making his acquaintance.  He had the same sandy-red hair, the same green eyes, the same smattering of pale freckles, and the same imposing, muscled frame.  But for the first time ever, I saw all that together for what it really was.  It was unyielding authority, power, and dominance.  Julian answered to no one – absolutely no one.  I think that is what really