Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 54651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Brave words, but they rang hollow in her head. Who was she kidding? She was alone—all alone with a crazy man who seemed to both adore and despise her, who was intent on terrorizing her one moment, and comforting her the next. He had chained her, whipped her and raped her. Then he’d kissed away her tears, holding her tenderly in a warm, strong embrace, whispering sweet, soothing things, as if he hadn’t been the one to torture her. It would almost have been better if he’d just been a total brute, a pure monster. Who the hell was this guy and what in god’s name did he want with her?
Hiding her face in her arms, Alana gave way to her tears.
~*~
About two hours later, Mark went to check on his charge. She was huddled in one corner of the cage, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. Her face was puffy and wet with tears, her eyes red from crying. Mark’s heart went out to his darling girl. But he knew he had to be firm. She had to understand who was in charge.
“Alana.”
She didn’t respond. Mark went over to the cage and unlocked the small door. Reaching in, he dragged her forward, hauling her out of the cage. He pulled her upright and she stumbled, but Mark held her arm firmly, not allowing her to fall.
Without a word, he led her down the hall and through the bedroom into the bathroom. “Climb in the tub. Naughty girls don’t get to use the toilet. You will pee in the tub.”
Alana stared at him, her mouth opening, no doubt in another protest. Mark stopped her by placing two fingers against her lips. “No. You do not speak. Not a word. You climb in the tub and you spread your legs and pee like a good girl. If you protest or resist in any way, I’ll put you back in the cage.”
The threat worked. Alana got into the tub. Mark turned on the warm water, and as it splashed against the porcelain, a stream of urine cascaded between her shapely legs, while she blushed sweetly, her face averted.
When she was done, he allowed her to wash off and dry herself with a towel. She kept her mouth shut for a change, which pleased him. Maybe he was finally getting through to her.
Taking her back into the bedroom, he had her sit on the bed while he went to the closet. Choosing a soft jersey of dark pink cotton, Mark returned to his slave girl. “I like dresses on a woman. You won’t be wearing pants anymore, and of course no bra or underwear. I bought you a whole wardrobe, my darling. When you have learned to behave better, you might earn the right to some of the finer ones. But for now this will do. Lift your arms.”
She obeyed, and he slid the dress over her head. It fit her perfectly, but then, she would look good in a potato sack. Reaching into the nightstand, he withdrew a short silver chain, which he attached between the slave bracelets on her wrists. “You tried to escape from me earlier, and you tried to cause me harm. You obviously can’t yet be trusted,” he explained. “So for now you will be treated as a prisoner.”
He half expected her to protest, but she remained silent. “I know you must be hungry, little girl,” he said. “Perhaps hunger will sharpen your desire to be obedient.” She pressed her lips together, and he could see her swallow. Yes, she was hungry.
Mark led her down the hall to the living room, where he settled on the couch. Alana stood in front of him, staring at the floor. He pressed her shoulders, forcing her to her knees. “You will kneel on the floor for your first lesson in how to address your Master.”
He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “First rule, you will always respond to me when I speak to you. You will answer promptly and with proper respect. You will reply to commands with ‘Yes, Sir,’ or ‘Yes, Mark’. You will answer any and all direct questions. Other than that, you will not speak unless spoken to. If there is something you must say, you will ask first for permission to speak. Is that clearly understood?”
He dropped her chin and again she looked down. No response. Mark felt anger rising but he forced it down. He narrowed his eyes and set his mouth in a grim smile. “All right then. Since you insist, we will go about this a different way.”
He stood and pulled Alana to her feet. Dragging her to the wall by the fireplace, he took down a large reproduction of a painting by Marc Chagall. He had read once in an interview that Alana especially liked Chagall’s work.