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The valet did not reply, though he didn’t scowl in response to her plea. Instead, he pulled her to her feet, not her knees, and led her from the ballroom past the sleeping bodies, and the few who lazily made love to the strains of quiet background music meant for lovers. As she made a silent journey, only a rare sensuous movement caught her eye. The feeling of exhausted satisfaction rippled through the ballroom on a listless breeze. Someone had thrown open a window, and a whiff of fresh air caught her nostrils as she and her valet returned to the attic stairway.
In the attic, the valet undressed her, removing the collar, the leather belt, and the cuffs. “You were a fine trinket,” he said. He looked weary, too, though a twinkle in his eye flashed through the fatigue. He was very kind, where all night and day he’d been just another master for her to obey. “I was once Trinket Four,” he told her.
She smiled at his admission. Strange bonds, strange times create.
Dressed, she was led back to the foyer to a chair where she was left alone. She nodded off, wanting only to sleep.
“Tessa!” She heard her name spoken sharply, hardly recognizing it. Opening her eyes, she saw Miles towering above her.
Chapter Nineteen
It was afternoon when she awoke in a room flooded with a sumptuous lazy sunshine, and a cushion of downy comforters cocooned her naked body. She ached too much to be really comfortable, but she didn’t want to move. She dozed again, not waking until daylight had vanished, and a hurricane lamp on the far side of the room was the only light to see by.
This time, Tessa had to rise, her bodily functions demanded attention. Finding a lavish looking bathtub next to the toilet, she filled it with hot soapy bubbles, and slipped into the silky warm water to soak—she hoped forever. Her mind ran through one amazing scene after another, all images of herself almost too bizarre to believe.
When she finally pulled herself from the tub and dried her body with a thick bath towel, she felt as tired as when she first sank into the water. The bath had soothed her aches and pains away and she wanted to sleep again. It was not until she was nearly dry that she looked down to see that the bar had been removed from her cunt, her labia once again allowed to close over her womanly bud. She felt odd without it there, and wondered when it was removed and by whom; though memory cheated her of that specific instant. She was satisfied to put the puzzle from her head in favor of sleep.
It was morning when she woke again, she could tell by the songs of birds outside the open window. Only then did she realize that someone had been attending to her as she slept, opening windows, closing them, leaving food and tea by her bedside, and removing it when she was too tired to eat.
Now, she was ravenous and anxious to see Miles. She was in his house, she recognized the room, though it wasn’t the one she’d stayed in months before. She recognized the paintings on the wall. There was a picture of a woman with her cunt spread open; Tessa instantly recognized the subject as herself. Like a message painted in rough pigment on this canvas, it reminded her that he was watching over her even while she slept.
Seeing clothes laid out on a settee near the bed—a silk, cream-colored turtleneck and short brown skirt—she quickly dressed and left the room, thinking that all her impending needs would be cared for somewhere downstairs. Her mind careened backwards to months before, experiencing instantaneous déjà vu walking into the sunroom where Miles sat eating breakfast. It was all the same this time—the greatest difference between the past and now was that the table was set for two.
“Awake at last?” he asked, smiling broadly. Traces of anger, expressions of scorn, and the cold that could flash so brilliantly on his face were now replaced with his impeccable calm.
She sat down where he pulled out a chair and stared at him, wondering what to say. Forty-eight hours between them, she didn’t know where to start. “You removed the bar,” popped in her head. It was a bizarre first statement to utter after everything that had take place and even Miles was surprised by her comment.
“I never thought it permanent, Tessa—sometimes I like the look of your womanhood in its natural state,” he explained. “So, is that all you can think to ask about?” He smiled at her, charmed by her befuddlement.
Tessa blushed, a zillion thoughts cramming her brain until it pounded crazily. She said nothing.
“A muffin?” he asked, uncovering a half dozen steamy, dark bread muffins. They were filled with nuts and raisins, their scent making her mouth water.
“Oh, my god, yes!” She took one, trying not to appear too anxious, though she would look back later remembering how quickly she ate it, realizing her hunger. There was a vast emptiness needing to be filled. She was afraid she couldn’t stop eating as Miles looked at her with dispassionate interest.
“Another?” he offered.
She took the second muffin, and allowed Miles to serve her a plate with fresh fruit and scrambled eggs.
“These are wonderful,” she exclaimed taking a first bite, “What’s in them?”
“Thank you for noticing,” Miles said, still awed by her hunger and enthusiasm, “I made them myself, there’s buttermilk, a little dill and basil.”
“Humm. I love them!” She continued eating, content to let Miles eyes caress her.
Once she finally slowed down, he took her hand in his. “I have meetings all day, Tessa, so I won’t be here. Please make yourself at home, but don’t you dare leave. I’ll blister your butt if you do, I want to see you tonight.”
“You’re leaving now? But, I have so much to say,” she lamented.
“Do you really?” he asked.
Sh
e’d polished off two muffins, the plate of eggs and fruit, and two cups of coffee. She was no longer hungry. Either the natural need to eat was finally satiated, or it was simply suppressed by Miles unexpected announcement. Disappointment had hit her like a brick. “Just one thing before you go—were you there all evening?”
“Yes, I was.”
“You saw everything?” She only remembered seeing his face once during the first punishment.
