Slave

by Sherri Hayes

  I took a deep breath. Talking about my mom, although making me sad, wouldn’t be that hard.

  But then he continued. “I do not want you to stop talking until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master,” I said with confidence.

  “Good, girl,” he said from behind me.

  Then I felt something touch my hip. “While you’re talking, I’m going to periodically touch various parts of your body like this,” he said, giving my hip a light tap with what felt like a stick about the thickness of a pencil. “When I do, you will stop what you are saying long enough to say what part of your body I’m touching and then go back to your story. Can you do that?”

  I nervously swallowed again but answered, “Yes. I think I can.”

  “You think you can, Brianna?” he said, his voice taking on a slightly harsher tone.

  I took a deep breath and gave him what he wanted. “Yes, Master. I can do it.”

  “That’s better,” he said with a clear smile in his voice.

  Then the pressure on my hip disappeared.

  “Begin.”

  He’d asked that I talk about my mom, so I focused my thoughts only on her. I took the first tentative step and started talking. “Mom had me when she was only nineteen. She wasn’t ready to settle down and get married, so she decided to move the two of us to Dallas.”

  As soon as I said the word Dallas, I felt the slight pressure of the stick again. “Shoulder,” I said, before continuing with my story.

  It seemed like I had talked for hours, telling him about my mom going back to school to become a teacher and how she’d gotten me a dog we’d called Rusty because of his red coat. I told him about Cliff. How mom had fallen head over heels for him and married him after only knowing him a month, but that when she was diagnosed with cancer, he’d taken off and served her with divorce papers not long after.

  I hadn’t fallen, although it had been close a few times. Only once in the story did I miss calling out when he’d touched me. His response had been a harder tap to my thigh that left a light sting in its wake. I didn’t forget again.

  Stephan

  After contemplating Brianna’s reaction to the man at the store, I decided that it came down to focus. She had lost all knowledge of her surroundings when she saw him looking at her with primal hunger in his eyes. Her panic had set in because she could not rationalize that she was safe in the store with me rather than in danger.

  We needed to work on getting her to stay focused even when her mind was on other things, especially if school was going to happen. This had seemed like the perfect place to start.

  As she’d talked about her mother, her dog, and even her stepdad, I had moved around her, changing both my position and the angle at which the thin branch I’d selected made contact with her body. Keeping the touches unpredictable.

  She’d done well. Four times she’d lost her footing, but in each instance she kept herself from falling. Only once did Brianna not immediately pause her story to do as I’d instructed. And after the small reprimand she seemed even more determined not to make the same mistake twice. Brianna had a stubborn streak. That thought made me smile.

  I learned a lot about her as she talked. Brianna had grown up quickly, especially after her mother got sick and her stepfather abandoned them. I’d known she was strong and smart already, but this just made me admire her more.

  And as much as I wanted to end today on a positive note, I knew that the time had come to get some real answers from her. The phone call from Oscar meant that her father was looking for her, and I needed to know how she would feel about that.

  But before delving into a subject I suspected would be difficult for her, I told her to stop moving and let the stick drop to the ground as I stepped closer. I stopped just inches in front of her. And even though her eyes were still covered, she knew I was there.

  Her breathing picked up, but there was no sign of panic. I leaned in and let my breath brush the hair behind her ear. “Not bad, Brianna. Only one slip.”

  It took her a few seconds before I heard a soft thank-you, Master fall from her lips.

  Keeping my face just a breath away from her skin, I moved my mouth down the line of her jaw so that my own lips were hovering just above hers. I could tell she was waiting for me to kiss her, but I wanted to see if she’d ask. I was hoping she would ask.

  It took one hundred and forty-two seconds before I heard the words from her that I had wanted to hear. “May I kiss you, Master?”

  I moved my lips directly in front of hers before I answered. “You may,” I whispered back.

  Brianna’s mouth blindly sought mine. Our lips came together, and I followed her lead.

  Her mouth glided with mine. It was so innocent that it was difficult not to plunge my fingers into her hair and kiss her the way I wanted.

  I controlled myself, though, and waited until she pulled back slightly.

  The look on her face was one of happiness that I was beginning to see more and more.

  This time when the impulse to touch her came, I didn’t stop it. My hands came up to thread through the hair at the base of her neck. “Are you ready to continue, Brianna?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  I allowed my fingers to linger at her neck for a moment then took a step back and retrieved my makeshift cane from the ground. As quietly as I could, I moved to stand behind her. And just to make sure she was paying attention, I placed the tip of the stick at her lower back. Obediently she said, “Back.” My only response was a smile, which she couldn’t see.

  It was time to get to the information I really needed. “Now, Brianna, I want you to tell me about your father.”

  Her intake of breath was so sharp she almost choked. “I know you lived with him after your mother died. Tell me about him.”

  This time when she didn’t talk or move, I brought the stick down on her behind with a slight flick of my wrist. She responded immediately. Slowly she took a small step and began to speak in the same monotone voice she used when she was distancing herself. “My dad came to my mom’s funeral, and then he took me back to Two Harbors, Minnesota with him. He’s the . . . leg . . . county sheriff.”

  “J . . . John. He . . . My father . . .” I brought the stick to the top of her breast and it seemed to bring her out of the haze she’d started to fall into.

  After answering with the appropriate body part, she continued her tale once again in the same lifeless tone. “Living with John was different. He worked and I went to school. I made dinner, did homework while he watched television. We didn’t . . . ankle . . . talk much.”

  “Mom was outgoing. John . . . hip . . . was . . . leg . . .reserved. Mom always wanted to get out. Do things. John insisted we stay . . . home.”

  I hadn’t missed her hesitation or the fact that she’d stumbled as she’d forced that last word out of her mouth. Leaning in, I once again pressed my lips close to her ear. “Where is your father now, Brianna?”

  And then I heard a whimper escape her throat. “I don’t know, Master. Please don’t . . . I want to stay with you. I . . .” When I came back around to her front, the tears were streaming down her face.

  I tossed the stick aside, pulled her into my arms, and lowered us to the soft ground. With her tucked into my chest, I reached up and removed the covering from her eyes.

  She blinked several times, but instead of calming she cried harder and clung to my shirt. I wrapped my arms around her and just let her have a moment to release what had been building inside. Although I didn’t have all the answers yet, I did know one thing. Brianna had no desire to see her father.

  We sat for a long time before her tears began to ebb. “Are you ready to talk to me?”

  She nodded and burrowed her face even deeper in my chest.

  I let a little chuckle escape me at that. “Love, I think it will work better if you talk to me rather than my shirt.”

  She stiffened a little, but I rubbed her arm in reassurance. I wasn’t
upset with her, and I could only imagine how difficult this was for her.

  Brianna shifted slightly in my arms so that her cheek was resting against my shoulder. I brushed her hair back from her forehead and placed a soft kiss there, letting my lips linger. “Tell me how you came to be with Ian,” I said softly.

  Again she nodded. “It was a Saturday. I was home . . . alone.” She swallowed and readjusted her grip on my shirt. “J . . . John.” I felt her lean into me when she said his name. “He’d gone to Minneapolis for . . .”

  She paused. I felt a drop of moisture land on my hand and knew she was crying again. I held her tighter. It was all I could do at the moment. “He said he was going for . . . work.”

  I had her folded against me with my arms around her waist. Her right hand wiggled its way out of its place between our bodies and gripped my hand. I gladly laced my fingers with hers.

  After taking another deep breath, she continued. “I’d just finished cleaning up after lunch when the phone rang. It was . . . John. He told me that he wanted me to join him for dinner at a friend’s house in Minneapolis. That a car was on its way to pick me up. To be ready by three o’clock. To . . . dress nice.”

  She held my hand tighter. “At three, a black car pulled up to the house. A man got out and opened the door for me.”

  Brianna stopped for a minute, but not like before. This time, she appeared to be thinking, considering her next words. With more caution, she continued. “John was a simple man and . . .” She paused. “I don’t know much about cars, but I knew this one was expensive.”

  And then, as if she was talking to herself, she quietly added, “Maybe if I’d . . .”

  “No second guessing yourself,” I said. “Just tell me what happened next.”

  She seemed a bit startled at my response to a comment she’d obviously not meant me to hear. But after a minute she continued her story. “He never spoke to me. Even after I asked him how much farther it was.”

  “I didn’t start to get nervous, though, until I looked out the windows and realized we were heading back out of Minneapolis. When I tried the doors, they were locked. I . . . started to . . . panic, but I knew . . . I knew it wouldn’t do any good,” she said as the tears starting flowing fresh. “There was nothing in the car or my purse I could use to get out, even if I thought I could.”

  I felt her breathing begin to pick up and knew we must be nearing the part in her story where things went horribly wrong for her. My thumb rubbed softly over her knuckles trying to offer her what comfort I could.

  “Then the car . . . stopped. The man, he opened my door and told me to get out.”

  “I was so scared,” she whispered, her whole body trembling. “I moved as far away from him as I could. My back hit the other door . . . Then I was falling.”

  She paused again, but this time she looked up at me. The look on her face was a strange one. “That was when I met Ian,” she whispered.

  I was so very proud of her. She’d made it through the entire story without having a panic attack. A first.

  My hands came up and cupped her face. “Brianna, you did so well today. I know it was difficult, but you stayed focused and didn’t let the panic overwhelm you. Next time it will be easier.”

  Her eyes held mine with a look of pride. “Yes, Master.”

  With a swift kiss to the top of her head, I asked, “Are you getting hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  I stood and offered her my hand. “Let’s get back into town and see what we can find, shall we?”

  It took us a while to make our way back to the scooter I’d rented. The return trip was filled with just as much peril as going in. I’d had to hold onto her every second in fear of her falling.

  We made our way back into Minneapolis and went straight for the bike shop to return the scooter. Once that was done, we walked two blocks to my favorite pizza place.

  Tony looked up at the sound of the bell over the door and smiled when he saw me. “Ah, Stephan. How are you this evening?” he said, coming out from behind the counter.

  “I’m good, Tony. How about you?”

  “Ah, I can’t complain,” he said. Then he noticed Brianna. “And who is the lovely lady?”

  I smiled and pulled Brianna closer so that she was standing directly beside me. “Tony, this is Brianna. Brianna, this is the owner of the best pizza shop in town.”

  As expected, Tony blushed a bright red, and I chuckled. What I hadn’t expected was for him to turn his total attention to Brianna. “You have to watch out for this one. He’s quite the ladies’ man, you know,” he said winking.

  Brianna just flushed and lowered her eyes while holding tighter to my hand. I squeezed it back. “Do you think you can spare a table for us, Tony?” I said, looking around at the near-empty restaurant.

  “Of course,” he said and turned to direct us over to a table in the corner.

  We took a seat, and this time I placed Brianna opposite me. I wanted to see how she’d do since there was only one other couple besides us here. It was a little early for dinner, although most of Tony’s business came from deliveries.

  Tony disappeared for about thirty seconds and returned with menus. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Just water, Tony.”

  “And for the lady?”

  “She’ll take water as well,” I answered for her.

  Brianna hadn’t moved since sitting down. I knew she was nervous, but I was hoping she’d be able to work through her fear.

  Tony left us to get our waters. I glanced over my menu to look at Brianna. “Do you want pizza or something else?” Instead of answering me, I saw her swallow hard. I was not going to ask her again, so instead of commenting I raised my eyebrows and gave her a pointed stare.

  It worked.

  “Pizza’s fine,” she said cautiously.

  “Very well,” I said putting my menu down.

  Tony returned to the table and placed the glasses in front of us. “Just a large pizza with everything except onions, peppers, and anchovies tonight,” I said, smiling.

  “Coming right up.” He winked at Brianna again.

  I took a slow sip of my water before setting the glass back down. “You can calm down, Brianna. Tony is a big flirt, but he won’t hurt you.”

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

  “Brianna,” I said lowering my voice. “You will refrain from addressing me like that when we are in public.” Her eyes widened, but she nodded in understanding.

  No other words were exchanged until the pizza arrived. After thanking Tony, I let Brianna know she could help herself.

  I watched her take a few bites of her pizza before bringing up the subject I wanted to try and discuss with her. “Tomorrow we will be going to my aunt and uncle’s again. Do you have any questions for me?”

  She shook her head. “No, M . . .” She caught herself. “No.”

  After taking another bite, I pressed forward. “I will stay close to you tomorrow, but I may leave you alone once or twice.”

  I saw her stop eating. At first I was concerned that she would begin to have another panic attack, but she just gripped her napkin tighter for a minute and then released it.

  Once I was sure she was again in control of herself, I continued on. “Nothing has changed from the last time we were there. You’re safe within the house, and you are to speak freely with the exception of how you address me,” I said, meeting her eyes with that last part.

  She just nodded instead of answering verbally.

  Now that business was out of the way, I wanted to steer her to a more relaxing subject. “Have you been reading your books this week?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what do you think so far?”

  All at once her shoulders relaxed, and her face lit up. For the rest of dinner we discussed characters, plots, and writing styles. It was the most I’d seen her open up outside of my home since she’d arrived.

  Brianna

  My eyes flutter
ed open to the soft light of the morning coming from the window, and I couldn’t help but smile. I didn’t know the last time I’d felt so relaxed.

  With that thought, I felt a moment of panic and glanced over at my alarm clock. Seven fifty. I took a deep breath and let the tension leave my body. Somehow I’d managed to wake up before the alarm.

  And the alarm was set. I’d watched as Master had done so last night just after I had climbed into bed.

  I was still trying to wrap my mind around yesterday. When he’d had me talk about John and what had happened, all I’d wanted to do was to please him. And although I was nervous as to his reaction, I had known that I had to be honest. He’d made it very clear that he prized that above all else.

  But, as something I was becoming more able to accept from my Master, he had comforted me. He hadn’t gotten upset that I’d tried to get away from my captors.

  Master’s arms had held me tight as I’d told my story, grounding me to the present and not letting me fall into the past.

  Master had kept his arm around me the entire time we walked back to the scooter, and it had calmed me. I knew he wouldn’t let me fall.

  Once we’d gotten back into town and he’d returned the scooter, I thought we’d go home, so I’d been surprised when Master had led us into a restaurant. The man, Tony, had made me nervous as all men did, well except for Brad. I still didn’t understand that really, but he didn’t frighten me at all. With Tony, I tried to remember that Master was with me and that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me.

  As I remembered our dinner, I groaned. I couldn’t believe I’d slipped and called him Master. I was very lucky he didn’t punish me for it once we’d gotten back home.

  Today was a new day, though, and we were going to have lunch with his aunt and uncle again. Diane was nice. I liked her.

  Dr. Cooper—Richard—still made me nervous. Last time he and Master had gotten into an argument, and I knew it had been over me. For some reason he must not like me. Or maybe it was that he didn’t want Master to have me.