Page 8 of Slave

The question was—what to do now?

I looked her over. First, we needed to get her clean and out of those absurd clothes. Her hair was still tangled from the night, and I was beginning to detest that outfit. Tami had left nothing behind, so the only option was to put her into some of my clothes until I could figure something else out.

Leaving her where she was, I went into my bedroom to see what I could find. She wasn’t tiny, but she’d be swimming in most of my clothing.

Finally, I located some gym clothes I still had from college. I was a little thinner back then, and the shorts had drawstrings. They were the best option I had access to at the moment.

Walking back into the room, she was exactly where I’d left her. “Follow me,” I said, knowing that she would.

When I re-entered her bedroom, I smiled as I saw that she’d made her bed. Whether that was a habit Ian had drilled into her or one she’d already developed, it was a good one.

She came in the room and started to kneel again just inside the door before I stopped her. “No,” I said firmly. Brianna stopped instantly. I held out the clothes to her. “Take these, shower, and put them on.”

Brianna took the clothes, and I had started to leave before I thought of something. Given what I’d observed of her behavior, I didn’t want her waiting around in the bathroom all day for my next instruction. “When you’re finished, come find me.” With that, I left her and went to get my laptop. Even though I was not going in to work for the rest of the week there were still things to be done.

I was hunched over the computer when motion alerted me that she was there. I stared openly. It was good to see her in something other than the tube top and miniskirt, but she looked even younger and more vulnerable in my clothes than I had expected. I gave her permission to watch television or read one of the books laying around in the living room. She knelt on the floor in front of the television and just stared at the blank screen for several minutes before I got up and turned it on for her, placed the remote in front of her, and returned to my work. She never touched the remote.

The rest of the day was awkward. She didn’t say much. Actually, she didn’t speak at all unless I asked her a direct question. Over her dinner of toast with a little bit of butter and jelly, I continued to make observations.

I had so many questions for her, but I knew it wasn’t the right time. No matter my curiosity, I would have to wait.

Since she had been able to keep down the toast and jelly from the night before, I added oatmeal and some fruit Friday morning. The day was again spent with me working at the dining room table and her in front of the television.

At dinner, I gave her some spaghetti with just a little sauce and made her eat slowly. She managed to keep that down, too.

Saturday we also had to address her use of the bathroom. While going through e-mails, I noticed that her face was scrunched up in pain. It made no sense to me at first since she was kneeling on a pillow in the living room at the time. When I asked her what was wrong, she quietly told me she needed to use the bathroom—Master.

After telling her to go use it I realized my mistake. Every submissive I had ever had in my home had either just gone to the bathroom when needed, or, if we were in the middle of playing, would ask. Brianna wasn’t asking.

When she returned, I informed her that whenever she needed to use the facilities that she was to go and use them. She did not need to ask my permission or tell me unless we were in the middle of something. If that was the case, then she was to ask politely to be excused.

I pretty much let her be after that, hoping she’d get used to her surroundings. Food was still an issue, but I kept introducing new things and made sure she took her time eating them.

I caught her glancing at me once while I was working, but then she cringed as if she had committed a major sin and quickly turned her attention back to the television. A woman was talking about some new vacuum cleaner. It didn’t seem all that interesting to me.

With her attention returned to the television screen, I sat back in my chair and watched her. She really was pretty. She had a simple beauty about her. It wasn’t flashy. It didn’t scream out to be noticed. But it was there all the same. Brianna was clearly trained, but I had many worries. Would she ever open up to me or would she stay in this shell forever? Only time would tell.

Brianna didn’t look at me again for the rest of the weekend. I’d never insisted my submissives avert their eyes except during specified times of play. A person’s eyes revealed so much about them, and I wanted that connection with whomever I was playing.

With Brianna it was different. I’d never played with someone so damaged. Of course, we weren’t playing.

No matter how much I waited and watched, Brianna’s personality showed no signs of emerging during the long weekend. The only real emotion I saw in four days was fear.

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Stephan

My alarm went off on schedule at six Monday morning. Per my normal routine, I showered and made my way into the kitchen. What I hadn’t expected to find was Brianna kneeling on my kitchen floor.

We were going to have to talk, and soon.

I’d told her I would be returning to work this morning, but since she still wasn’t talking, we hadn’t really discussed anything. “You may stand.” She complied immediately.

“Do you like ham and cheese omelets?” I asked as I pulled the ingredients out of the refrigerator.

She didn’t respond right away to my question, which made me wonder just how long it had been since her opinion had been asked. Finally, I heard a weak “Yes, Master.”

It wasn’t until I glanced up at her that I noticed she was still standing, head bowed. She was watching me though, albeit covertly. I turned back to the stove to continue cooking. “You may sit, Brianna.”

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