Page 8 of Lily

He smiled. “Any time, sweetheart. Come to my office when you’re ready to leave.”

Emotions welled up inside her. She’d spoken to him many times but never for quite this long and never in such a private location as the back stairwell. He was still holding her chin, and she loved the feel of his fingers against her skin. He was even gently stroking her with his thumb.

She nodded. “Thank you,” she repeated.

As he released her and turned to jog down the stairs, she held her breath and watched him. As soon as he was out of sight, she closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. She could still smell his scent around her, feel his fingers on her chin, picture his eyes boring into hers with concern, and hear his voice as he called her sweetheart.

Chapter Three

Roselia bolted awake with a start as the blaring sound of her alarm filled the room. For a moment, she had no idea where she was as she sat up straight, heart pounding. Gradually, she remembered everything that had happened last night—the ceremony, the presentation of the slaves, the transfer of her ownership to her new Master, the drive to his estate, his rules, and the collar now circling her neck.

She could make out the room well enough from the light of the moon and stars coming in from the window, but it was still dark outside. She reached up to adjust the collar. It was heavy and annoying. It represented her place in this world as ranking at the same level as a pet dog.

The collar would be a constant reminder that she was a prisoner in her Master’s home. She had no rights. No freedom. She would be punished in ways that made her shudder if she misbehaved or made a mistake.

Her Master had given her so many instructions last night that she was concerned she might not remember them all. She did know she had fifteen minutes to get up, dress in her uniform, and put her hair in pigtails. That last request was weird. He liked her to look innocent and young, she supposed.

Youthful looks seemed to have been the theme among the slaves Master J trained. She thought all the other women had also been close to her age, in their early twenties. She suspected they’d all been chosen not just for their virginity but also for their small bodies.

Though Roselia had never dared utter more than a few passing words to the other women, she was very familiar with their bodies. All six of them had been similar—petite with small breasts and nipples, long hair, and flawless skin. She had no idea what any of their names were. They would never have risked sharing those details with each other, but she knew their breasts and nipple sizes because Master J liked to make them hold their arms up in an inspection pose so he could measure them. Who measured nipples?

He also permitted them to eat just enough to maintain a low body weight while not keeping them from being able to build strong muscles so they could hold ridiculous poses for hours at a time.

Roselia hurried to get out of bed. She found the light switch on the wall and flipped it on, illuminating the room with the bare bulb that hung high above her head. After quickly resetting the alarm for five the next morning, she made the bed, rushed into the bathroom, peed by herself for the second time in months, brushed her teeth, and combed out her hair.

It took her a bit longer than expected to part it and put it up in pigtails. She hadn’t worn it like that since she’d been a toddler. By the time she was done and returned to the bedroom, she only had five minutes to spare, and she still needed to get dressed.

Roselia opened the closet and froze. She blinked several times, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her. She’d expected some sort of maid uniform, but she hadn’t expected it to look like the sort of maid costume a stripper would wear.

There were five of them lined up on hangers. Nothing else was in the closet. Just five identical “uniforms” that would be far more humiliating to wear than remaining naked.

Time was ticking. If she was late the first morning, her Master would not be pleased. She snagged one of the hangers, unfastened the lace from the two clips holding it up, and stared at it. “Shit,” she murmured.

It was black and white. Mostly see-through lace. She realized it was a corset, and when she held it up to her body, she groaned. Luckily it fastened up the front, so she wrapped it around herself, latched all the eye hooks, and stood there shaking.

She couldn’t do this. No way. It hugged her torso so tightly she would have trouble bending. The top was nothing more than a shelf bra. White lace lifted her small breasts but left her nipples completely exposed. The corset extended down to just above her bare mound, the stays in the center creating a point that seemed like an arrow leading directly to her sex. Sheer black lace hung like a skirt on both sides of the corset at her hips, but it didn’t cover her exposed sex or her bottom.

Roselia’s mouth grew dry. She’d had no idea what to expect from her new Master, but this hadn’t occurred to her. He wanted her to cook and clean all day in this uncomfortable corset made of wires and lace…? It was so demeaning, especially with the huge collar and the pigtails. The white and black lace was sewn into a pattern that made it look like a maid’s outfit with an apron. It even had a white bow at the small of her back, right above her butt crack.

Tears slid out of her eyes, and she held her breath, willing them to stop. So much had happened to her in the past few months. She often wished her abductor had killed her instead of turning her over to Master J. Would her life be worse now that she was with her new Master?

It was difficult to hold on to hope, and her despair at the moment was at an all-time low. Plus, it was sixteen minutes after six.

She wanted to tear the stupid degrading corset off, climb back under the covers, and wait for her Master to come to punish her. At this point, what difference would it make? She was already late.

Drawing in a deep breath, she resolved herself to face her fate, turned, and fled the room. She was barefoot. He hadn’t left her any shoes. She supposed she should be grateful. It would be worse if he expected her to spend all day in this demeaning outfit while also wearing spike heels.

After running down the two flights of stairs, she stepped into the kitchen, winded and nervous. She immediately came to a stop when she found her Master sitting at the breakfast nook. He was leaning back casually in his chair with his laptop open in front of him.

He stared at her far too calmly and tapped his lips. “Let me count your infractions so far this morning.”

She sucked in a breath, parted her legs, and clasped her hands behind her back. Maybe her wait position would at least cause him to be lenient.

“First, you wasted too many minutes sitting in your bed before getting up. If that’s going to be a problem, you’ll need to set your alarm for four fifty. Second, it took you too long to do your hair. I expect you to practice it over and over tonight until you can get it right in far less time. Third, you spent way too much time staring into the closet. I’ll give you a pass on that one since you might not have been familiar with corsets before. I gathered from watching you put it on that you weren’t sure how they fit. Don’t let that happen again. Fourth, you will not speak out of turn even when you are alone, and you most certainly will not cuss for any reason. Fifth, you will not run in the house. Make sure you are always on time so you do not need to. Sixth, you’re late.”

She silently admonished herself for not controlling her outburst and the word that slid out of her mouth when she’d opened the closet. She should have known better. She should have known he would have been watching and listening to her every move this morning.

Roselia cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.”

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