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Two things strike me from the response.
First, that Master considers me to still be healing right now even though I haven’t felt this good since… Well, since my kidnapping, most likely. Even in the days before I was sold as a slave, I was tormented, starved, and beaten by the guards watching over me and the other victims. And after I was sold was a nightmare from day one. If this isn't healed, what the hell does Master expect? Is this a test? Am I supposed to tell Master that I’m okay? Am I supposed to prove myself somehow?
Second, that Master would care about me at all during a party. What in the world does he mean 'look after'? I would just crawl behind him. Does he think I’m too naughty? Was this man at the last party Master brought me to? Oh no… He probably was. Which means he thinks I’m a bad slave. That's probably why he won't take me with him anywhere either. Why he's always leaving me in the room all alone. He saw me disobey my master and hug Carter, and now he thinks I'm bad.
I need to prove myself. I need to show him that I’m healed. Show him that I’m a good slave. Show him that he made the right choice when buying me. But how?
I take a massive risk. "May I ask a question, Master?"
Master looks surprised, but pleased. He even smiles. "Yes, you may."
I choose my words extremely carefully, fully aware that there are hidden landmines I might step on with every syllable. There always are with these men. "What can I do to show you that I can be good for you?"
Master's smile slips. "I already know you can be good for me. That's not in doubt."
Then why won't you bring me to the party? Why won't you take me out of this room? Why won't you fuck me?
"Why are you worried about being good, little one?"
"I'm not," I say quickly. "I'm not worried, Master. It's not my place to worry. I’m sorry."
The man sighs heavily, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "Is it because I'm not bringing you to the party? That has nothing to do with your behavior. I'll be too busy. Very important things are happening, and many dangerous men are attending. I need to be able to drop everything and act if needed. I can't do that if I have you with me."
"I'm very good at waiting wherever I'm left, Master. I - I know I was bad at the last party. The man who owned me before might have told you about that. But I learned my lesson. I swear. I won't ever misbehave again, Master."
"I'm not willing to leave you unattended at a party. It has nothing to do with your behavior and everything to do with my own desires. Do you understand?"
I tuck my chin to my chest. "I understand, Master. I'm sorry."
"Do you have any other questions?"
Why are you treating me like this? What game are we playing? Why the fuck haven’t you fucked me?
But I’ve already pushed my luck. It'd be smart to shut up before Master gets mad at me. As it is, Master already doesn't sound very happy. I’d hate to-
"Ask me," Master orders, though his voice is surprisingly soft. He grabs my chin like before until we’re looking into each other's eyes. Master nods like he's encouraging me. "Ask me, little one."
I’m not sure if it's the pretty blue of Master's eyes or the way his lips curve into a soft smile or how his voice lilts whenever he calls me little one, but whatever it is, my defenses crumble just long enough for me to blurt, "Why won't you fuck me?"
Master drops his hand and rears back at the same time that I gasp and bring a hand to cover my mouth.
"I'm sorry, Master," I hurry to say between panicked breaths. "That was so - I didn't mean - it's none of my business when you use me. For me to ask that - it was - I can't - I am so sorry, Master. I'm so sorry."
"Stop," Master says, raising a hand. I flinch, but… the hit never comes. Instead, Master just gently rests his hand on my shoulder. Despite the lack of pain - or maybe because of it - I begin to tremble violently. "Hey, breathe. It's okay. It's a valid fucking question."
I screw my eyes shut, hoping to keep the tears at bay. "It's not my place, Master. I'm so sorry. It's not my place."
"Casey…"
I jerk at the sound of my name, the movement as violent as the reaction it causes in my brain. Everything inside me lights up, an alarm system blaring, warning signs flashing, chaos ensuing. I’m not Casey.
"Yes, you are," Master says. Which means I must have accidentally spoken out loud. I trap my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from making the mistake again.
Master's phone starts buzzing. He hesitates, his eyes locked with mine, eyebrows pulled together like he’s trying to solve an important problem. Then he sighs heavily and pushes off the bed to grab his phone. His voice is angry and annoyed when he answers with a sharp, "What?"
I wince, knowing I’m probably the cause of Master being upset. I should have kept my mouth shut.
"Are you a fucking idiot? No, don't answer that. I already know you are. Fucking hell. I'll do it myself. Don't touch anything. I'll be right there."
