The majority of her wounds had healed. He tended to her very gently. She sincerely appreciated his kindness. He gave her warm baths. He examined each scratch and scrape. She had a bruised rib that he nursed back to health. He was tender with her.
There weren’t many words exchanged between them. His were affectionate. Hers were appreciative.
She became stronger. He no longer had to carry her into the tub. She preferred to shower. She was allowed to shave herself as long as he watched her. He would sit silently on the toilet, his head lolling from one side to the other in appreciation. She had to hand over the razor when she was finished shaving. Afterwards, she was allowed to continue washing. He never left his observant position.
Dressing was a game. He gave her first choice. A simple “stop” from the doorway and she knew her outfit had been chosen, even if she only had on parts of it. There were days when she wasn’t allowed clothes at all. The weather was warm enough that bare flesh and lite materials were not an issue. But the evenings…
He initiated the walks. She wore a collar. Its soft, black leather didn’t make up for its heaviness around her neck. At least it didn’t rub her horribly. She had trouble keeping up with his pace. His leash was short. Heavy chain looped through the thick O-ring on her collar. She wanted to wander. He wanted her right by his side. He was anxious about letting her out. She was anxious about being out.
The collar and chains kicked up a puff of dirt when they fell from her neck. They walked in the house with the sun setting behind them. She felt as if at any moment, the eggshells she walked on would give into the burden of what to say next.
She turned the lamps on in the living room, and shivered. “Thank you, for taking me with you… on the walk, Sir.” He freed his feet of his boots at the door and smiled on his way to the couch. “You’re welcome, pet.” She gave him a hopeful smile. “It’s a little chilly, Master. Would you make a fire?”
“No. I’m warm. It would make sense that if you want to be warm, you would be over here next to me.” She had been occupying the couch while she recovered and then the floor during most evenings. She nodded and took to the floor.
He looped through the channels until he found something he liked. Sometimes she’d laugh and he’d kick at her in a playful way. Mid-way through the night, the breeze that trickled through the open windows in the home got the best of her. She scooted herself over to his legs. She casually made herself comfortable between the two of them.
“You going to hide down there when December comes, pet?” He chuckled. Eggshells, again. Some things were so familiar. Some things were so scary. “Hopefully you’ll give me a blanket by then, Sir.” She couldn’t imagine being kept on this property, being his property, until December.
“I believe I just gave you my answer on that one.” He reached down and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. He snatched it back towards him. “Were you not listening?” Her head snapped back. Her scalp burned with the yank to her hair. Her eyes were wide, but she tried to keep her temper in check. “Yes Sir, I was listening. I’m sorry.”
He let her go instantly. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s going through your head.” She was silent. A decision was on the edge of her lips. She could continue playing dead, or really try to talk to him.
“May I tell you what’s going on in my head?”
“Turn around and look at me.” He pulled her up to the couch by her arms. He relaxed back into his seated position. “Speak.”
Trying to control that much apprehension left her visibly shaking. Her words were gentle, but she was lost in them.
“I’m scared. I’m scared of you. I’m scared of being here… or of you hurting me. I know that sometimes there are moments that we laugh and … but… you took me. I do thank you for being nice. You bought me sheets for my bed. You took care of me. ..” She was rambling. She was crying. At one point she began apologizing over and over.
He leaned into her, elbow to knee. “I took care of you because I own you. You are a piece of property. When I damage you, I will patch you up. I took you. You’re mine. I’m not being nice when I put you on better sheets. I’m taking physical care of something that belongs to me.”
He was getting tuned-up, because his words were completely calm.
She sat still on the couch. Deep, relaxing breaths. She was afraid to make eye contact with him. She should have just shut the fuck up. He’s just fucked in the head and she was going to die here. There’s no reasoning with him. God, why did she try? With a bowed head, her tears were welled up and dropped straight to her hands. She still tried to be as silent as possible. But he was staring at her…
He sprang onto her. His hands were in her hair, on her face, in her mouth, then down her body and over her breasts. His pinches. His hands. His fingers. They were everywhere. Eyes open or eyes closed, they wouldn’t stop. Attempting to block him was unproductive, but habitual. He was rough. It was the first time he had been so since she’d healed from her injuries. Her naked throat begged him silently. He could hear her nipples. Her cries and tears made him hard.
“I think you’re still a little confused about what’s going on here. This isn’t a vacation, princess. You’re here. You’re fucking here. Now it can be like the good ole’ times or I can beat you until that’s all you remember. “
“Get off of me!” She gave into a scream that had been buried deep. He grabbed her by the throat. He loosened his belt buckle. “There’s my girl, fighting a battle she’ll never win.”
He laughed as he forced her knees open.