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When his hair is smooth, I set the brush on the vanity and open his wardrobe. “Green skirt today.”
“I was thinking pants.”
“No.”
Jamie exhales through his nose.
I take out the skirt and the black shirt I bought to go with it. “Stand up.”
He does.
That’s twice. I don’t mention it yet.
He takes off his underwear without making me correct him. Then he stands still while I study his cock.
When I hold the skirt for him, he steps into it. He even lifts his arms when I pull the shirt over his head.
I button it slowly, watching his face. “You’re learning.”
“I’m not ungrateful.”
Little shit. My fingers stop on the last button.
Jamie knows what he said, and after yesterday, he knows exactly what it means.
I finish the button and straighten his collar. I picked Jamie because I intend to keep him. Fear is useful when it prevents the kind of mistakes that end in the backyard.
Jamie lets me turn his face toward the light. He doesn’t pull away when I run my thumb beneath one eye or when I push his hair behind his shoulder to see him better.
Yesterday frightened him.
Good.
Fear isn’t always useful. Too much makes dolls unpredictable. The right amount teaches them to pay attention.
Jamie is paying attention now. So am I.
Downstairs, I put Jamie at the other end of the kitchen table with a book while I work.
He reads for almost twenty minutes before he closes it. “What are you doing?”
“Working.”
“I can see that.”
I finish the email before I look at him. “Then why did you ask?”
“I meant what do you do?”
“Accounting.”
Jamie glances at my laptop. “You kidnap men and do accounting.”
“Yes.”
He opens his book again.
I answer two more emails and finish reconciling an account before I notice Jamie isn’t reading anymore. He’s watching my screen.
