Leo woke late in the afternoon to find Faith sitting up in bed, her knees drawn to her chest and the blankets wrapped tightly around her. She cowered when he looked at her.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Y-yes, Master.”
An obvious lie. She was too afraid for truth. If anything, in the light of day her anxiety was heightened. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
“Go take a shower and get dressed. We’ll go down to the kitchen for something to eat.”
She remained frozen against the headboard, and Leo frowned.
“Do you want to start your day off with punishment?”
“P-please, Master, no. I-I… please don’t look at me.”
This was not going well. She felt violated just being naked in his presence. Even if he didn’t touch her. It had been one night, nudity, and one spanking, and she already acted like some tormented refugee. If he pushed her farther, she might retreat inside herself and never come back out. The idea that he was damaging her with such small actions was another nail in the not-kinky coffin.
His fantasies meant nothing in light of the very real human being he was ruining with them. The slight weight of her body lifted off the bed, and she scurried into the bathroom and shut the door. The click of the lock snicked into place.
Leo opened his eyes. A moment later she shot out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her, into the closet to retrieve clothes, and then back to the bathroom like a frightened mouse.
While she was in there, he grabbed some clothes of his own and went down the hall to another bathroom to shower and get ready. During the night he’d dreamed of her. In the dreams she was sweetly submissive, obeying his every command, becoming aroused when he delivered pain, desperate to please him and getting off on it.
The gap between the dream and the reality was so disappointing he could kill his brother for doing this to him. Nevertheless, he closed his eyes and stroked himself in the shower, thinking of Dream-Faith, the girl he wished his captive could have been but so clearly wasn’t. Even if he planned to torture himself today with an attempt to slowly draw her into his world, he already knew it would be fruitless. And the cost to her would be higher than he could stomach.
He found himself angry, not just with his brother, but with Faith. As if it were her fault she wasn’t kinky. As if she could be blamed for being afraid of him. His feelings were unreasonable, but still, the anger built as he jerked himself off.
After showering, he came back to the bedroom to find her on the edge of the bed like an animal caught in a trap with nowhere to go. His anger faded, replaced by a pain in the center of his chest. I did this to her. And in only one night.
She wore jeans and a T-shirt. Her feet remained bare except for the gauze which had gotten wet in the shower. Leo went to the bathroom and took a first aid kit from the closet.
“I need to look at your feet and change your bandages.”
Reluctantly, she uncurled her body. But before he looked at her feet, Leo pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair. She resisted at first, her body tense and uncertain, then she let go of everything and sobbed against him. So young. With her whole life ahead of her. Or that was how it should have been. That was what his brother had stolen, what Leo had stolen. He held her until she settled. Then he took one of her feet in his hands and began to unwrap the bandages.
None of the cuts had been particularly deep, even though he’d had to dig some glass out of her flesh the previous night. She was walking on it okay, but her fears may have been drowning out any pain she was feeling. He carefully cleaned the wounds, applied more ointment, and rewrapped her feet in fresh gauze.
When he was finished, he stood and offered his hand. It took every ounce of courage she had on reserve to put her hand into his.
“We’re going down for food, nothing scary,” he said.
She didn’t look reassured.
Leo led her down to the kitchen and found some leftovers in the fridge.
He reheated them in the microwave and indicated a seat for her at the table. Usually the servants waited on him, but they’d honed amazing instincts over the years and had made themselves scarce. Whether they did it for Leo or for Faith, he wasn’t sure.
“I hope you like lasagna,” he said, growing more uncomfortable with her silence.
“Y-yes, Master.”
He wondered if she’d ever be able to say it without the stutter or the tremble in her hands that accompanied speaking to him.
“What would you like to drink?” If he wanted to have any shot at all with this, he had to make small gestures, occasionally give her the illusion of choices.
With any other sub, he would have had her on her knees by now. He wouldn’t have given her any food or drink options. But Faith wasn’t any other sub. She wasn’t a sub at all. She was his prisoner. His slave. And now the word felt dirty.
“C-can I have orange juice?”
“With lasagna?”
“I’m s-sorry. W-whatever you want to give me is fine.”
He put a plate and fork in front of her, and put his food in to nuke it. Then he went to the fridge and, with some trepidation, poured the juice. “No, if you want orange juice, you may have it. It just doesn’t sound very appealing.” A horrifying thought struck him then. “Are you pregnant?”
Her eyes shot up to his. “N-no, Master. I just like the taste.”
Strange, but if it would add to her comfort, he’d let her have it. Even if he had to fight not to be sick over the odd combination. At least it was simply a quirk and not a pregnancy symptom. The idea of having her here against her will would be worse with a baby growing inside her and then a small child running around.
The meal was silent. Faith looked lost inside her own fear and anticipation over what he might do to her, and Leo couldn’t bring himself to make small talk. Finally he said, “Perhaps I should go over my expectations.”
Her eyes darted up to his, and the fear was back louder. Leo tried to ignore it.
“As long as you acknowledge that you belong to me and as long as you obey me, your life doesn’t have to be bad. I can give you a good life, but there are certain things I require. I’ll be as gentle as I can be if you’ll let me.” Saying it out loud sounded monstrous, especially given her reaction to him.
He decided not to mention specifics. If she knew exactly what he was into, down to nipple clamps and violet wands, it would only frighten her more. If such a thing was possible.
“Faith?”
“Y-yes, M-master?”
Though she didn’t seem to be kinky, he was intrigued that she hadn’t slipped when it came to what he’d asked her to call him. It made him believe that somewhere deep within there was a spark of something naturally submissive he could awaken. Even if it didn’t express itself directly as a kink… it could… given enough patience and training.
“Are you familiar with BDSM?” Perhaps he should be asking himself the same question-since the tenets of the lifestyle were safe, sane, and consensual three things he wasn’t offering the woman in front of him.
“N-not really. I-I mean I know what it is. Like spanking and stuff?” Her respiration grew faster. It was obvious the idea scared her. Which part of it scared her the most, he had no idea, but the general idea wasn’t something she was into. But then he’d known that when he’d pressed his finger inside her to find her dry.
“Put your plate and glass in the sink and go up to my bedroom. I’ll be there in a moment.”
She gave him a pleading look, but did as she was told. He rinsed the dishes off and put them in the sink, then followed her.
He found her standing in the middle of the room, looking lost, like she didn’t know where to go or what to do or what might happen. Leo crossed the floor to her and reached out to stroke her breast through her t-shirt. As far as sexual acts went, it was mild, but she cringed away.
“P-please don’t make me…” The terror in her eyes was too much for him. This wasn’t what he wanted. Yes, he wanted someone who couldn’t walk out and leave whenever they wanted, but he was terrorizing her. He wanted a slave who couldn’t get away, but he also wanted one who wanted to serve him.
“Fuck,” he said.