Slave

by Sherri Hayes

  Karl! Right now, I wanted to take my favorite whip to him and not hold back. Unfortunately, logic and reason told me I couldn’t do that.

  We needed dinner, and I was in no mood to cook. Walking into the kitchen, I opened the drawer containing the stack of menus a little too forcefully, causing some of them to fall to the floor. Picking them up, I shoved all but the one I wanted back into the space from which they came.

  There was a Chinese restaurant one block over, and they would deliver with the right incentive. I knew what I wanted, so I handed the paper to her. Reluctantly she took it. “Select what you would like for dinner, Brianna.”

  I knew my voice was harsher than it should be. I needed to calm down, so I took the opportunity while she was reading the menu to walk into my bedroom. She wouldn’t follow me, I knew, because I hadn’t given her permission.

  Heading straight for my bathroom, I turned on the cold water and splashed it on my face. Looking up in the mirror, I was pleased to see that the anger burning in my eyes had dimmed. I felt more in control, which was good. The last thing Brianna needed was to fear me even more than she already did.

  My hand was reaching for the doorknob when I felt my phone vibrate. I pulled it from my pocket and looked at the caller ID.

  Sighing, I figured I might as well get this over with. “Hello.”

  “Stephan,” my aunt said, her voice resonating through the phone. “And how is my favorite nephew?”

  Releasing the doorknob, I leaned back against the sink. “I’m fine. You?”

  “Well . . . I was doing fine until I heard you have a new girlfriend that I haven’t even heard about.”

  Closing my eyes, my left hand came up to pinch the bridge of my nose. Girlfriend. Not exactly.

  Richard knew of my lifestyle. Diane did not. And even if I wanted her to know, this was not the time to tell her. “I didn’t mean to keep anything from you. It’s just . . .” What did I say? I had no idea, so I settled on “new.”

  “Then I guess I won’t be too upset with you. Now I know Jamie gave you my message so I expect to see you and Brianna on my doorstep no later than one o’clock on Sunday. Is that understood, young man?” she said in her best matriarchal voice.

  That got a chuckle out of me. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good,” she said, and I could hear her smile through the phone. “I can’t wait to meet her, Stephan.”

  “We’ll see you on Sunday.”

  And with that, I hung up. I still had no idea how Brianna would react to my aunt. She was very affectionate and I loved her dearly, but the young woman in the other room was shy and reserved. Her family situation was still a mystery to me, but obviously it wasn’t good or normal or whatever term you wanted to put on it. I would just have to deal with whatever it was and however she reacted to my aunt. Pushing myself away from the sink, I put my phone back in my pocket and walked back out to Brianna.

  Brianna

  He was upset, more upset than I’d ever seen him. Obviously, I’d angered him with that Karl man, but I’d had no idea what to do. They didn’t appear to be friends, and Master seemed to be upset that Karl had touched me. But I knew what was coming. Knew that it was not Karl who would pay for what had happened; I would.

  It didn’t matter. I had to keep telling myself that. There was more in my life now than I ever thought I’d have again. Whatever he wanted, I would do, no matter how unpleasant.

  Before I knew it, he was walking back out into the room. His shoulders seemed a little more relaxed and the scowl was missing. As he walked closer, I quickly lowered my eyes, not wanting to anger him again.

  “Did you decide?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Sweet and sour chicken, please, Master.”

  He didn’t say anything but instead went to the phone. His voice was calm as he spoke to the person on the other end of the line. It was good to hear him calm again, even though I doubted it would last.

  Ian had always been good at putting on a show for others outside his group. If you were to meet him on the street, you would have no idea what he liked to do in what he called his “playroom.” I hated it in there, more than the dungeon even. At least in the dungeon, I would be alone. I was never alone in the playroom. He was always there, too.

  My Master’s voice pulled me back from my memory, and for that I was grateful. “The food will be here shortly. Would you like to watch a movie while we eat?”

  A movie? Really? He wanted to watch a movie with me?

  I couldn’t help the excitement that flowed through me at the thought. I hadn’t seen a movie in so long. When I’d lived with my father, John, the nearest theater was over an hour away; and even though my friends would make the drive every once and a while, I was never allowed to go. The last time I’d seen a movie was in Dallas.

  “Yes, Master,” I answered softly, still careful not to push things. He seemed to be back to normal now, but I knew better than to be complacent.

  “There are movies in the cabinet beside the television. Pick what you’d like to watch,” he said and then walked back into the kitchen and began opening drawers.

  Slowly I walked over beside the television. I couldn’t believe this was happening, that I was getting to pick out a movie for us. And what made this even better was that I knew he was really letting me choose. I was going to take advantage of it until he took it away. Which I knew he would, eventually.

  When I opened the cabinet doors I was in awe; the number of movies to choose from was staggering. The DVDs went from floor to ceiling and were arranged in alphabetical order.

  As my eyes ran over the titles, I realized there was a little bit of everything here. The movies ranged from action/adventure to girly romantic comedies. Of course, there were way more of the former than the latter, but I was still surprised to find them at all.

  I used to like those types of girly movies. Before.

  Now, I didn’t know if I could stand seeing the quirky girl and the gorgeous guy fall madly in love and live happily ever after. That girl wasn’t me. Could never be me. Not anymore.

  So moving on, I concentrated on the more masculine titles. That was when I found it, No Country for Old Men. It was based on a book I’d wanted to read, before, but hadn’t gotten a chance. The movie had won an Oscar for Best Picture so it had to be good, right?

  Deciding it didn’t matter whether it was good or not, at least it wouldn’t be all mushy and romantic, I took it down from the shelf and turned, coming face to face with my Master’s chest.

  Not sure if I should look up or not, I decided to keep my head down. Better to be safe than sorry. “Did you make a selection?” he asked.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He took the movie from my hands. “No Country for Old Men,” he said, stepping around me and inserting it into the DVD player. I remained where I was. “I’ve been meaning to watch this but haven’t had the time.”

  My Master was talking to me. Really talking to me. Again, I was left feeling utterly confused.

  Confusion seemed to be a constant for me for the rest of the night. He’d asked me to join him on the couch, which in and of itself wasn’t overly odd, but then he really did sit there and watch the movie with me while we ate the food that arrived about twenty minutes into the film.

  My Master didn’t try to touch me at all.

  And when the movie ended, things got even weirder. He’d asked me what I thought about the movie. My mind immediately screamed TEST, but then I calmed myself down and remembered this was my new Master, not my old one, and I answered him.

  He sat and listened while I told him it hadn’t been what I expected, but that I’d liked the twists and turns in the storyline. To my amazement, he’d agreed with me about the twists and turns and said it was very much like the book. And at the mention of the book, my mouth opened before I could stop it. “You’ve read the book?”

  As soon as I’d realized what I’d done, my hand flew to cover my mouth in horror. How stupid could I be? It wasn’t my
place to ask questions!

  But instead of yelling or backhanding me for my slip, he was silent. When he did speak he answered my question and then added one of his own. “Yes. I own it. Would you like to read it?”

  What do I say? How do I answer him? The truth, a little voice said. And so I told him the truth. “Yes, Master.”

  He got up and walked into his bedroom, leaving me where I was. When he returned, he was holding a book that looked as if it had been read and handed it to me.

  Flipping it over, I could see the faces of some of the actors staring back at me.

  Apparently, this was printed after the movie was released. Without thinking, I opened the book and began skimming the first few pages. For the first time in so long, I felt that growing excitement I always felt when starting a new book. I was so lost in the sensation flowing through my body that I almost missed his words. “You like to read, Brianna?”

  My head came up before I knew what I was doing. But as soon as my eyes met his, I remembered my place and lowered them again. “Yes, Master.”

  “What do you like to read?”

  He was asking me questions again. Why? Ian had never asked me anything he really wanted my opinion on; all he wanted from me was yes, Master or no, Master and even the latter was rare. My new Master . . . he . . . cared? I wasn’t sure that was the right word.

  Still. “I . . . I like anything really. But . . . I used to love the classics. Mostly. Master.”

  Then I felt his hand on my chin forcing my head up to look at him. “First, Brianna, you do not need to end all of your sentences with Master. As long as you speak to me with respect, I am fine with you just answering my questions.”

  I was . . . speechless. Ian had required . . . I shook that thought aside. Stephan was not Ian. I had to remember that. What Ian wanted, required, or demanded no longer mattered. I belonged to someone else now.

  “Second, would you like to see my library?”

  Was he serious? “Yes,” I answered, barely able to contain my excitement.

  And then I saw something I’d never seen from Ian. A smile. A real, genuine, happy smile.

  Releasing his hold on my chin, he stood. “Come with me.”

  I did.

  He walked past the kitchen into a hallway I’d never noticed before. It was small and led to a flight of stairs. We went up one level to a small landing, and before we even cleared the stairs, I saw them. Books. Hundreds and hundreds of books.

  As soon as we reached the landing, he stepped to the side and motioned for me to go ahead. I didn’t hesitate for once. I hadn’t seen this many books in nearly a year, and I was in heaven.

  It was like before with the DVDs only better. These were books, beautiful, glorious books. My hands reached out to touch the spines of a few of my favorites, my hand stopping on a hardcover of Jane Eyre. I moved to pull it down and then stopped myself. He’d not given me permission for that.

  “You may remove the book if you’d like.”

  I did.

  The book felt wonderful in my hands. It was heavier than my copy had been due to its hard cover, and this one didn’t look like it had ever been read.

  “Would you like to take it with you to your room?” he asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  We went back downstairs. He picked up his dishes, carrying them into the kitchen, and I did the same. I followed his lead, and he seemed satisfied as I put my things in the dishwasher with his.

  After adding detergent, he closed the door and turned the machine on, filling the space with a quiet hum. I didn’t move. My head was down, and there was this weird feeling in the air. He took a step toward me, raising his hand, and then stopped, dropping it once again.

  “You may go to bed, Brianna.” His voice was clipped again, harsh.

  I didn’t pause before hurrying to my room. It was only after I’d closed the door, that I remembered I’d forgotten my books.

  Stephan

  I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever experience a full night’s sleep again. It was now six in the morning on a Saturday, and I found myself upstairs in my gym. Before Brianna or even the thought of her entered my existence, my life had been easy, predictable. Now I found myself in situations where I was unsure of my own responses.

  Last night was a perfect example.

  After we put our plates and silverware into the dishwasher, I still wasn’t sure what had happened, or why. It was almost as if an electrical charge was floating through the air, like the area was magnetized. As I watched her stand there, her head down, completely submitting herself to me, I felt more drawn to her than any other woman I’d ever encountered. Without thinking, I had reached out, eager to touch her.

  Frustrated, I let the weights I’d been lifting fall back into place. I had no idea where this weird compulsion had come from, but thankfully, I’d caught myself in time to stop it. She needed to feel safe with me, to trust me. Somehow, I didn’t think crushing my mouth to hers and branding the memory of her lips to mine was going to accomplish that.

  And I was making some progress. She was beginning to trust me. At least I thought she was.

  Bringing her up here to my library was eye-opening. Her pure happiness when she saw the books warmed my heart. I’d always enjoyed making my submissives happy but with her, it was just . . . different. Better.

  For the next hour, I continued with my workout and tried my best to clear my mind, to push back the feelings she was invoking. I needed to concentrate on her needs, not mine.

  Doing some final stretches, I thought back to the paperwork she filled out for Richard. Her birthday was June 18th, and she was still seventeen when she came to be with Ian Pierce, which increased my belief that she’d been forced into this.

  The more I thought about it, the more I was certain she’d not graduated high school, if she’d gone at all. It was just one more thing we needed to discuss.

  Grabbing a towel and giving a quick swipe across my face and neck, I went back downstairs to shower.

  When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I nearly tripped over Brianna. Taking in the scene before me, I tried to make sense of it. She was once again kneeling on the hard marble floor of my kitchen only a foot away from the soft cushioning of the carpet. The sentiment was not lost on me. I’d snapped at her last night. Brianna thought I was upset with her, and she was providing penance.

  “Stand.” She rushed to comply but kept her head lowered.

  I looked her over, taking in each angle and curve. There was no denying I wanted this woman. The memory of how she’d woken me yesterday was still fresh in my mind.

  But those thoughts were of little use to me now. Instead, I held my ground. “How are you this morning?”

  “I am well,” she answered in a very timid voice.

  “Good,” I said. “I’m going to my room to shower.” Moving to go around her, I noticed her pressing her lips together. I paused. “Did you have something you wished to ask, Brianna?”

  She nodded but didn’t speak. I was not going to play this game, so I just waited for her to spit it out. It didn’t take nearly as long as I’d thought it would before she asked, “May I make breakfast for you this morning, Master?”

  Shock crossed my face, although with her eyes still on the floor she didn’t see it. But then it also struck me that this was the first real thing she had asked for without prompting. She wanted to serve me. I knew it was her way of apologizing for whatever wrong she thought she did last night to upset me, but this was an improvement over her last attempt at thank-you. “Yes, that sounds lovely.” I was about to walk away again when I saw her lips clamp together a second time. “Was there something else?”

  “Do you have a waffle iron?”

  I glanced up at my cabinets. Diane had been the one to stock my kitchen with what she saw as the essentials. Racking my brain, I tried to recall if a waffle iron had been included. There really was no telling. I hadn’t used half of what she’d installed or shelved. “I don’t
know, but you are more than welcome to check. My kitchen is at your disposal.”

  “Thank-you, Master,” she whispered.

  Watching her for only a moment longer to see if there was anything else, I was surprised to see a hint of a smile. She was happy she’d pleased me.

  Since I was no longer needed in the kitchen, I made my way to my bedroom. Today would be a casual day. I had some e-mails to catch up on since I’d taken yesterday off, but nothing that would take me more than an hour. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I lay them neatly on the bed.

  The shower was my refuge, my sanctuary. I let the water fall over me and wash the tension from my body. In here, there was no Brianna, no broken woman whose life and well-being were solely in my hands. Just me.

  After drying off and getting dressed, I stepped out into the main room. As soon as I opened my door, the most wonderful smell hit my senses. Waffles.

  Looking into the kitchen, I was struck by the sight of Brianna standing with her back to me pouring batter into a waffle iron. Apparently, I owned one. Her moves were flawless, almost like a dance as she reached for the things she desired. She was obviously at home in the kitchen, and from the smell of things, could cook wonderfully.

  I walked toward her and managed to make it over halfway before she noticed me. Her reaction was such that she almost dropped the plate full of waffles she held. She met my eyes only briefly before her gaze lowered to the floor.

  Continuing to close the distance between us, I walked to the refrigerator. She remained where she was, holding the food. I figured instead of telling her to take the food over to the table I’d go with a less direct approach. Opening the refrigerator door, I reached inside for the milk. “Would you prefer milk or juice?”

  There was only the slightest pause before she answered. “Milk, please.”

  Closing the door and tucking the milk under one arm, I went around her to grab some glasses. By the time I turned back around, she was at the table sitting with her hands in her lap. I smiled.