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“Do you understand what has happened?” Master asks. My eyes drift toward his mouth as it moves to form the words. His lips are a dusty rose color, the bottom slightly larger than the top.
“Y-you’re my master now,” I say quietly, too distracted at first to realize I wasn’t ordered or given permission to speak. I probably should have just nodded. I wait, but… he doesn’t punish me. Doesn’t yell at me.
What is this man’s game?
“Yes. I am your master. And that means I make the rules, right?”
I nod slowly, trying not to let the idea of new rules exhaust me. It had taken me so fucking long to learn the old ones, and the punishments during that process had been brutal.
“First rule is that you can look at me. In my eyes.”
Sure I can. I always could. But I won’t.
The man sighs. “Look me in the eyes right now.”
It goes against everything my body wants, but I obey. His eyes are… kind. They’re the gray-blue of a winter sky, but somehow warm instead of cold or stormy.
A trick. They’re not kind eyes. He’s not kind. He’s just good at hiding who he is. Don’t fall for it.
I harden myself on the inside, forcing my eyes to stay locked with Master’s.
“Good. Very good.” His lips curve into a smile, my gaze flicking to them before returning to the man’s eyes. He’s handsome, I realize. It’s just a stray thought. It doesn’t matter. I’ve been raped and beaten by ugly men, average men, and unfairly attractive men. Looks don’t matter in this world. Yet… that thought is stuck in my mind, echoing as if it means something. Master is very handsome.
“I’m going to give you a bath now. You will tell me if you experience any additional pain or if you start to feel sicker in any way, understood?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good. Let’s go, then.”
Master takes my hands, pulling me to my feet. He keeps hold of me as he walks backward to guide me toward the tub. It’s big. The kind that stands on its own, with golden feet and a black basin. It’s a high step to get into it, but Master helps me so I don’t fall. The water is the perfect temperature. My eyes flutter closed at the feel of it.
Master gently presses on my shoulder until I sit. I wince as the water touches my fresher wounds, but the pain thankfully subsides quickly. I blink, a tear falling down my cheek.
“Does it hurt too much?” Master asks, almost sounding… concerned? No, that can't be.
“No, Master,” I whisper. “It’s perfect.”
I accidentally look at him. He’s smiling. It’s a happy, warm smile. Kind, like his eyes. I can’t remember the last time someone smiled at me like this. Not sinister or dangerous or cruel. Just… a smile.
Something in my chest warms. It scares me, that warmth, so I quickly look away again.
“Just relax now,” Master says. He rests his elbow on the lip of the tub and cradles his head in his hand. I can feel him watching me. It makes me nervous. What’s he watching for? Is he waiting for me to fuck up? Should I fuck up? Will I be in trouble if I don’t fuck up?
That’s the worst game of all; when Master - my old master - would want me to misbehave. Sometimes he was merciful enough to set me up for failure so it wasn’t a choice I had to make, but other times I had to decide for myself. It was a mindfuck wrapped in a mindfuck coated in sadistic misery. I don’t want to play that game.
I don’t want to play any games.
God, I’m so fucking tired.
“Relax,” Master says again, his lips twitching toward a smile. “You’re safe, little one. Relax now.”
I’m not fucking safe, I know that much, but he’s clearly making the relaxation an order so I force myself to sink into the water and soften my muscles. I breathe carefully, not allowing too much air to come in so my chest doesn’t fully rise, not wanting to seem greedy with my oxygen.
That’s how it goes, for a while. Me breathing. Master watching.
“You used to swim, didn’t you?”
The words startle me. I can’t remember the last time someone spoke to me about my past. It must have been the prison-like cell where we were all kept before the auction. It must have been Carter, in fact. Because after Carter was taken away, the guards lying and saying they killed him, I stopped speaking to people. I couldn’t risk getting attached again.
