Page 21 of Servitude to Serpents

I nod, tears welling in my eyes as I steel myself, focusing on the needle pricks of the rice. Even so, I only hold out for another minute or two before the warmth of my pee puddles underneath me. The smell of urine fills the luxurious room. I sniffle, choking back the sound of my stupid tears. My fisted hands shake in my lap as I sit, kneeling in my urine. The black dress, the only article of clothing I have, is now soiled. Humiliation burns hot, making my chest feel tight.

“Oh, please, Chloe, that’s disgusting.”

I sob, staring in horror at the soiled piano bench underneath me, my ruined dress and tights. “I’m sorry, Grandma.”

“If you see fit to behave like a damn animal, then you can sit like one. Finish the set.”

“Please, can I go clean up?”

Her voice is like a whip of disapproval and anger. “No, you play in your soiledclothes. This is your fault. If you don't like it, then perhaps maybe next time, you’ll remember to use the bathroom before we start.”

The keys blur behind the wall of my tears, my pee dripping into my dress shoes. “It was an accident.”

“Six is far too old for accidents, Chloe.”

The urine lessened the bite of the rice a bit, but it stings.

I kneel, haunting memories consuming my thoughts, but my tears run dry. By the time Master stands, I’m lost somewhere else, an unfortunate place I often visit these days. It’s not a happy place, perhaps not evenhappier, but it’s different, so I suppose that’s why I cling to it.

He pats his thigh twice, holding his hand out to me. I regard it carefully, my brows knitting together until he repeats the gesture, patting his thigh again. “This meanscome.”

My hand trembles as I slip it into his, whether from the pain or my renewed nerves, I’m not sure. His hand is warm and gentle. It seems to eclipse mine entirely. My knees, back, and well,everythingache as he helps me to my feet, only serving to bring more attention to the puddle of urine I’d been sitting in, soiling the hardwood.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I whisper as he leads me away from the puddle, his large hand still eclipsing mine. It does a strange thing deep inside my belly.

“What for?” He responds as we enter the hall, heading down it a bit.

“The floor.”

He sighs, which seems to be a preferred mode of communication for him, before pulling me into a large bathroom. I cringe as his deft fingers peel the soiled dress off me, careful to keep the urine-soaked spots away from my face. “Apologizefor the dishonesty, not for wetting yourself.”

Everything hurts.

Everything.

I’m again covered in my urine, and there’s surely rice embedded in my shins and knees, but standing here bare to the most handsome man I’ve ever seen does something sickening to me. A man who paid fifty million dollars for me as he fills the large, two-person tub up to the brim, rummaging through the bathroom closet for dark jars of thick, minty-smelling liquid before methodically drizzling it into the bath water.

He doesn’t speak, simply glances over his shoulder before hooking a finger through the loop of my collar and guiding me into the slowly filling tub. I hiss as the hot, foamy water meets my battered core, my still aching ass, but I don't complain. Soaking in a hot bath seems divine. He seems unmoved by all the things the other men loved about my body, my breasts heaving but ignored as he gently plucks the rice from my skin. Even though it's all soaked through with urine, he doesn’t seem to mind, but not in the way my teacher seemed to get off on it.

Then, he bathes me.

Slowly, methodically, and I feel my soul shatter all over again.

Chapter ten

To own is to …. Govern

Arustling draws me reluctantly from the best night of sleep I’ve gotten in years. Whatever oils Master put in the bath last night seemed to ease most of my aches as I stretch out like a spoiled house cat on expensive sheets.

Not a cat, though.

A dog.

The new name grates at me somewhere deep in my chest, some part of me that remains at least partially undimmed by my new hell. I can’t decide if whore or dog is better, but I have the feeling I’ll soon find out. When I finally will my eyes to open, the towering, dark vaulted ceiling greets me, cluttered with plenty of sturdy beams I could hang myself from if things got to that. The sheets are strong enough.

“What are you thinking about?”

The honey-smooth voice makes me yelp as I shove back the blankets, my feet getting helplessly tangled in them as I stumble into the middle of the floor. My knees once again find the hardwood with a jarringly loud thud. “Hello, Master.”

---