Page 7 of Slave

Slowly, I walked toward her. I didn’t want to frighten her more, but I felt I needed to do something. Brianna was my responsibility. She was in a strange place, alone. Although I was a stranger, I was all she had at the moment.

By the time I reached the end of her bed, she was moving. I hesitated. She nearly tripped over herself as she scrambled to the floor to kneel in front of me.

Her name was on the tip of my tongue when she started jerking. I bent down, concerned that she was having another episode, and reached out to grasp her by the shoulders. Her eyes were closed tight, and she looked like she was in pain. Scooping her up, I carried her to her bathroom and set her down by the toilet. I lifted the toilet seat and pulled her hair back. She bent over and let loose, but nothing came out. Her stomach was empty. All she had were dry heaves.

Once she calmed, I got two washcloths from the rack. After running them under cold water, I took them to Brianna. She hadn’t moved, not that I’d really expected her to. Her body was unnaturally still, her eyes cast to the floor as I washed her face.

When I was finished I tossed the dirty cloth into the sink and turned back to her. Again, she looked like she was about ready to cry.

I carried her back to her bed.

Placing her on the rumpled covers, I brushed her hair back and placed the fresh washcloth on her forehead. Her eyes flicked to my face, then closed as she tensed.

She acted as if she was waiting for me to molest her. The fact that she thought I’d do so when she was obviously unwell made me wonder just what horrors she’d undergone while living with Ian Pierce.

Without another word, I stepped away and settled into the chair in the corner of the room. I’d used the chair for various reasons in the past, but a bed had never been one of them before tonight.

As I leaned back, trying to get comfortable, I watched her still form on the bed, letting myself study her. Her delicate features were silhouetted against the lights of the city coming through the window. It gave the illusion of a peace that wasn’t present. She was a mystery. I had no idea of her past beyond her time with Ian, and even that was sketchy. Who was she before? Was this a life she chose that went horribly wrong or something worse?

Eventually, she seemed to relax and fall back to sleep. With a sigh, my eyes closed, and I tried to find some rest of my own.

When I woke the next morning with a crick in my neck, she was on the floor beside her bed, patiently kneeling. She had an amazing submissive presence. Her posture was near perfection. Ian had not been exaggerating on the amount of work he’d put into her training.

I rubbed the sleep from my face before addressing her. “Good morning, Brianna.”

She didn’t answer.

“You may respond.”

“Good morning, Master.” Her voice was dead, and she did not look up.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, Master.” She sounded like a robot. There was no emotion behind her words. I frowned. Was this really what Ian had wanted? Someone who just did what you told them to do without feeling? I repressed a shiver and pushed the thought aside. It would do me no good.

Looking down at her, I noticed her color had improved. Her fair skin showed a faint blush. Hopefully her stomach had also settled, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “Go to your bathroom and do what you need to, then come meet me in the kitchen.”

She didn’t respond in any way other than to get up and walk into her bathroom. I rubbed a hand across my face, and then went to my own room to get dressed.

I decided to keep breakfast as simple as possible given what happened last night. She needed to eat something, but I didn’t want to have to clean up a mess again.

As I was putting the bread in the toaster, she walked into the room. Her movements were stiff and unnatural. It was as if she were trying to be invisible.

Taking two glasses down from the cabinet, I turned to put them next to our plates only to find Brianna kneeling on the floor. I stared at her bowed head for several seconds before deciding to go ahead and finish what I was doing before addressing her.

Once I had everything set on the counter—toast, butter, and jelly, along with juice for me and water for her—I walked around the island and sat. “Come sit beside me and eat, Brianna.”

She obeyed and took the same seat beside me as she had last night. When she reached for the dry toast I’d put on her plate, I placed a hand on her arm to stop her. “Slowly.”

Brianna was like a statue until I turned back to my food and started eating. Then, hesitantly, she picked up her toast and took a small bite. We managed to get through breakfast without another incident.

After breakfast, I went into the living room and called Jamie to let her know that something had come up, and I would be working from home for the rest of the week. I instructed her to hold all my calls unless it was an emergency. She promised to keep things under control until I returned. I laughed, trying without success to picture my soft-spoken assistant standing up to the likes of Karl Walker. Jamie was many things, but aggressive wasn’t one of them.

When I finished up with my call to Jamie, Brianna was on the floor just this side of the kitchen. I stopped and watched her.

I’d had submissives before, but this was something completely different. Sarah and I had met and talked several times before we even discussed playing together. With Tami, it had been much the same. Even with the few others I’d played with over the years I’d known them on some level before anything transpired.

With this girl, I knew nothing about her. She was obedient, yes, but that didn’t tell me anything other than she was either naturally submissive, broken, or both. The fear I’d seen in her eyes a few times had me leaning toward broken.

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