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“Please, what?”
“Please, open the door so I can go to the bathroom.”
He stood staring at her, waiting expectantly, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest.
She didn’t know why he was just waiting. “What?”
“It’s time you address me properly. I’m not ‘Lukus’ to you. You will call me either ‘Master’ or ‘Sir.’ Try again.”
Bri’s hackles were up. How dare he? Still, she feared she’d need to play along if she was ever going to get a chance to escape. Swallowing her pride, she managed to choke out her request again, this time hoping it met with his domineering approval. “Would you please open the door and let me out so I can go to the bathroom…Sir.”
He made her wait for several long seconds before smiling and walking back to the cage. He detoured to pick up something from a nearby table. Brianna couldn’t see what he had in his hands until he squatted near the door of her cage.
“Put your hands through the hole.” His tone left no room for dissent.
Bri pushed her wrists through the small opening in the door, her request coupled with a reflexive, “Yes, Sir” before she could catch herself. She knew he was enjoying her submission because a sly smile lit up his face as he began locking fleece-lined cuffs around her outstretched wrists. She was grateful he didn’t connect them together, leaving her more range of motion.
“Now your ankles,” he demanded.
Brianna was not at all happy about this request since it required her to sit back on her sore, bruised bottom in order to stick out each ankle. The pain from sitting was sharp and an unwelcome pleasure washed through her as she remembered the strong punishment at Lukus’s hands the previous night. A gasp escaped as she moved and she glanced up in the hope that Lukus hadn’t heard.
He smiled at her. “How’s your ass today?”
“You know exactly how it is, you bastard,” she snapped without thinking.
He was just finishing locking the fleece-lined ankle restraint as he grabbed hold of her foot and squeezed with full strength. Brianna cried out in pain.
“Care to try that answer again, sweetheart?” His voice was deceptively calm, and his green eyes showed just how close to danger Brianna was skating right now.
With tears in her eyes, she tried again. “My back, ass, and legs are really sore today… Sir.”
He squeezed for a few more seconds before releasing her. “Better. We’ll get you trained yet.”
Seeming satisfied that all the restraints were attached, Lukus unlocked the padlock securing Brianna’s cage and swung the door open. She was forced to crawl out on her hands and knees, and she was grateful when he helped her up, his almost gentle assistance a contradiction to his earlier treatment. Her cramped legs felt like spaghetti as he supported her until she steadied herself enough to walk.
Only the pressure on her over-full bladder hastened her along. “I really need a restroom.” She remembered to throw in a soft “Sir” as an afterthought.
Lukus took her hand in his and steered her across the room to a corner of the dungeon she hadn’t seen yet. She didn’t see a door in this direction, which confused her. When Lukus stopped near the wall and dropped her hand, Bri looked up at him.
“Where’s the door to the bathroom?” she asked, but when he raised an eyebrow, she quickly added another “Sir.”
“Slaves don’t have the privilege of a private restroom—or a real toilet for that matter.”
Bri looked around and with horror knew immediately he intended her to squat over the five-gallon bucket sitting in the middle of what looked like a four-by-four tiled shower floor with a drain in the middle. There was even a showerhead jutting out from the wall just behind the bucket.
Her voice was barely a whisper. “You can’t be serious?”
His voice was so powerful in contrast to her own. “Oh, I’ve never been more serious. If you need to pee, here’s your bucket, or you could just squat over the drain.”
She could feel him staring at her as she looked down at the bucket, her heart racing. They stood in a silent showdown until she finally looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. “Oh God, please. Don’t make me do this. I can’t.”
His eyes bored into her. Already stripped naked, she didn’t think she could feel more vulnerable in front of her captor, but she’d been wrong. The harsh look on his face was stripping another layer from her already fragile psyche.
“Well, I guess I could be persuaded to let you use my master bathroom upstairs. You could take a hot bath and use all of the facilities… privately, of course.” He paused as she briefly got her hopes up. “All it will take is one little signature on your divorce papers. You sign and I take off the cuffs, get you a hot bath, a soft bed, and some clothes. I’ll even let you call that liar-of-a-friend of yours and let her come pick you up. You can go on your merry way, free to start the rest of your life.”
His words toughened her up. “I told you last night and I’ll repeat it again because it seems you might have a hearing problem. I am never—do you hear me? —nevergoing to sign the divorce papers.” After a dramatic pause, she defiantly raised her chin, looking him square in the eye. “Sir.”
He slowly broke into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Suit yourself. You have two minutes, then we’re moving on.”
