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20. Tension

After my birthday there was a lot of sexual tension between Mr. James and me. He let me be around him again when he worked and he tried to take care of me as my pregnancy was beginning to show a little bit.

Stephen did a lot as well, but Mr. James was always there for me. Eventually, he was the one who wanted this the most.

But when it came to doctors, Stephen was by my side. We were buddies in that department, so to say.

Two weeks after my birthday Mr. James invited a guest over. He was actually a business partner, and after they talked work for around three hours, they finally touched on something more private.

"David, tell me, how much did you pay for her?" the man asked. His name was Michael Cape. I was somethinh you paid for, you see. A product. Object. Wait, officially, I was an order.

"It was not much for me," Mr. James replied. He was typing something on his laptop, one of his many laptops.

"We are interested in contacting the agency as well. I mean, my daughter Laura was natural and it was all good, but my wife is too old for pregnancies now," Michael Cape uttered. Then he blinked at Mr. James. "Besides, having young blood like that in your home can be all kinds of nice, am I right? They look good, and they do not say 'no', what else do you want?"

I was immensely offended. Was this what Mr. James was thinking of me? I was just another f.uck.toy to him?

Mr. James did not respond to Michael Cape's statement, so he just continued talking, "We are thinking of designing the baby! That adds a little more time looking at beautiful babes from the agency. Does that mean more costs?"

"We did not design it," Mr. James simply replied. "I do not know how much that would cost."

"What? You did not design it? David, you have so much money that you could have designed the future president of the United States and you are not even from there!" Michael Cape exclaimed. He thought it was funny, but neither Mr. James nor I laughed.

"I am perfectly content with Stella," Mr. James said. I was happy to hear that. I still felt offended by him though. I wanted this Cape guy gone, so that I could talk to Mr. James.

"Did you do a background check on her? You never know, David!" Michael Cape uttered.

"Of course I did a check on her. I check everybody who enters this house," Mr. James admitted. He knew everything about everyone. Maybe he even knew things about me that I was not aware of.

"Well, she looks good. No offense, but I saw some chicks at Jackson's and Paul's houses and they were incredible. Their bodies were made for f.ucking, not pregnancies! Sometimes, I wonder whether the agency sells s.ex separately, or whether it is in the order already!" Michael Cape was out of his mind. He was laughing and joking about a matter that touched my heart. He was talking about the barbies like they were only s.ex objects and all he wanted to do was f.uck them. Well, to me that would be r.ape. The girls were forced to say yes to everything by the agency.

I was probably the only one out here freelancing.

"Michael, I would kindly ask you to leave right now," Mr. James demanded as he saw my infuriated face. In a quick motion Michael Cape left. Finally.

"Is that all I am for you?" I asked him in a poisonous tone.

"No. You are so different from the girls he described," Mr. James said, trying to convince me.

"If they said no, those friends of yours would sent them back and they would get punished! I am lucky you 'bought' me because otherwise I would be f.ucked!" (Literally and figuratively, I may add) I cursed again. Oh no. "The more people I see the more disgusted I am. First the birthday couple, now this..."

He interrupted me, "You better get used to it."