Page 49 of Tied

Did he pick this for me? Is this what he wants to see on me?

I decide not to dwell on these speculations and quickly get dressed instead. Every single item fits perfectly and the warming and protective effect of clothes feels all the more intense after I was forced to stay completely naked for such a long time. As I put on the final item, the camisole, I notice that I’m standing taller than I did before. I’m no longer slouching, with my back bent and my shoulders falling to the front as if I were constantly trying to hide. Up until this moment, it never occurred to me how much of an ego boost even a simple set of clothes like these could be. I feel taller, stronger, more confident—and more human than I have felt in days.

Yet, I can’t help noticing that I was provided with everything but a pair of shoes. There was a pair of black socks at the bottom of the package, but no shoes. Does that mean I get to leave this room, but not this house? Am I going anywhere at all or is Cain just playing another trick on me to win my compliance?

Once again, my musings are interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked and opened. This time, I don’t jump away from it like a frightened deer, but face the intruder with a confident stance, my shoulders pulled back and my eyes slightly narrowed as if preparing for a fight. The door opens in a swifter motion this time, revealing Cain’s face a moment later. A dark smirk emerges on his face when he scans me from head to toe, seeming to approve of the outfit he most likely chose for me.

“Come here,” he says, gesturing for me to come closer.

I pause for a moment, held back by stubborn pride before I allow myself to follow his command. It’s not like I have a choice, anyway.

“Give me your right hand.”

Slightly confused, I lift my hand up to him like a well-trained doll. He pulls it closer with one hand before lifting the other, in which he is holding something that he fastens around my wrist a moment later. It’s a leather cuff, securely locked with a tiny key—and much to my surprise, he closes the other cuff connected to it around his own wrist.

I cast him a questioning look, torn between rivaling emotions.

“Are we going… out?” I wonder out loud, and the sinister smile on his face widens.

“It’s time to get started, don’t you think?” he says, adding a subtle yank at the cuff to beckon me to follow him as he turns and opens the door behind him.

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