Joseph
“Will you be a good girl from now on?” I ask, as I step inside and find her standing before me, squinting as the light from the hallway streams into her room.
It’s the first time that I get a proper look at her. She was wrapped up in my scarf and bundled up in her coat when I brought her up here, and the poor lighting in this room did not allow me to really see her.
She looks very different from what I expected based on her file. Sure, the last hours have left their mark on her. She looks disheveled and tired, her hair falls down around her shoulders in messy waves, and her makeup is smeared from all the crying. One of the first things I notice is the color of her hair. She’s a blonde, just as I prefer, but her hair is darker than it was on the few pictures I saw. I have only seen her in the dark because she hardly ever left the house during the daytime, but I never noticed that her hair color was so different. It’s more of a dark ash blonde than a true blonde.
“Please,” she pleads, her lower lip quivering. “Master. Please, let me use the restroom.”
I watch as she goes down on her knees in front of me, clasping her hands together in front of her chest, sobbing while she looks up at me. “Please.”
“Get up,” I hiss at her. “That’s a pathetic display. You don’t ask for things like this.”
A trace of bewilderment flashes across her pretty face, but for once, she follows my command without hesitation. She gets back up on her feet and wraps her arms around her torso, all while pressing her legs together.
“You may go,” I tell her, and her eyes widen with relief. “If you promise to behave from now on. No backtalk, no questions, no hesitation.”
She nods even as I speak.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she says hurriedly. “Yes, Master. Anything you want, please just-”
“And you’ll wear this,” I interrupt her, producing a leather collar from my pocket. It’s a very simple design, just a slim, black leather collar with the obligatory d-ring in the front.
I hold it up to her, and I can see her eyes flicker when she realizes what it is. I don’t know if it’s panic or excitement, and I hope for her sake that it’s a little bit of both.
She nods again, remaining still when I close the collar around her neck. It’s just a training collar, nothing fancy. She could even open the clasp herself and take it off on her own volition.
However, it’s better for her if she doesn’t.
“You cannot take this off,” I tell her, after fastening the clasp at the back of her neck. “Never. Understand?”
She looks up at me. “Yes... Master.”
“Good girl,” I say. “Now come.”
I hook my finger around the d-ring and turn around, pulling her with me as I march out of the room. She’s a lot shorter than I am, and has trouble keeping up with my long strides. I don’t want her to look around too much once we leave her cell. We’re heading through a narrow corridor with big windows to the left. I can see her head turning toward them as we move along, squinting at the rising sun. It’s early morning, and she has been alone in her cell for about six hours. I didn’t get much sleep myself. I never sleep well the first night a new girl is here. There’s too much anticipation, too many thoughts running through my head, so much to look forward to - and so much to fear.
I wonder if she slept at all. She stumbles next to me, her hands rising up and holding on to mine as I pull her along by her collar. She tries to ease the tension on her throat by putting her own hands between mine and the collar, but it doesn’t do much.
At least this struggle keeps her occupied enough not to pay too much attention to her surroundings. We are leaving the corridor behind us, reaching the open space that has the stairs leading downstairs on the left and another, longer corridor to the right. We take the route to the right, as I lead her to her new home. The entire uppermost floor will be hers, but she won’t get to see anything else for the next thirty-nine days. Three doors branch off from this hallway, and that is it.
And the attic she just came from. She may hope never to see that room again, but I doubt this was her last night within its confines.
I stop in front of the last door, quickly unlocking it before I push her inside ahead of me. She has trouble maintaining her balance when I shove her into the bathroom. The room is not very big, but still causes her to gasp in awe when she steps into its interior. I prefer a sleek and modern design for my own living area, but for this bathroom, which will only be used by the girls, I’ve hired an interior designer to come up with a more feminine touches. There’s white marble all around, heated floor tiles, a glass-enclosed shower next to a hot tub. I splurged on high-end fixtures and custom finishes, such as gold and crystal accents and a mirror above the vanity that covers almost the entire wall. The window is small and unobtrusive, but it’s the first thing her eyes wander to.
“You’re on the third floor,” I tell her. “And all windows have a security lock that can only be opened by me. Don’t get any ideas.”
She turns around to face me, her eyes piercing through me with passionate hate. Very good, she’s playing her role perfectly.
I nod toward the toilet at the other end of the bathroom. “I thought you needed to go.”
She nods, but doesn’t move. Instead, she looks at me expectantly.
“I am not leaving,” I tell her. “You either do it with me in the room, or not at all.”
Her eyes widen in horror.
“No,” she whispers. “Please, just a minute of privacy. I promise I won’t-”
“No,” I interrupt her. “Not an option.”
“But-”
She pauses, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the toilet she so desperately needs. She bites her lower lip and averts her eyes as she walks over to the toilet, hissing curses at me in such a low whisper that I cannot perceive their meaning.