come from me. I feel...numb. Almost as though I’m not present in my own body. I don’t understand how things have changed so quickly. I’ve gone from being in a dark, cold cell with nothing, to this room that’s more beautiful than anything I could ever imagine.
“Come.” Anthony holds his hand out for me and I quickly place my hand in his. I’m relying solely on my instincts and what I’ve read in my romance novels. My heart flutters as he leads me to a set of double doors carved from wood. I want to touch them, but I don’t. Not with him here. I imagine he has cameras everywhere, but as soon as he leaves, I want to touch everything. I need to see what all he brought from my home and what he has for me here. A part of me wants to cry with joy and feel nothing but gratitude. But that part of me is fucking stupid.
And I’m not stupid. This is a gilded cage for his pampered pet. And he intends for me to be that pet, his kitten. I can play along. I will play along. At some point I’ll be able to get out of here. I just need to survive and be whatever it is that he wants me to be until that time comes.
He opens the doors and reveals the most gorgeous bathroom I’ve ever seen.
The walls are lined with a beautiful pale blue paisley wallpaper. Hanging from the center of the ceiling is a silver and Lucite chandelier positioned directly above a large, oval soaking tub. Running the entire length of the back wall is a huge walk-in shower complete with waterfall shower heads and massage jets arranged symmetrically on the walls. There’s a large double vanity to the left, and that makes chills prick over my skin. Is he staying here, too? It never occurred to me that he would. This space is feminine and designed for a woman. I try to ignore the fact that there are two sinks and walk forward to the shower.
My heartbeat picks up. I know what he’s going to want. I’m not an idiot.
“Kitten.” I hear Anthony’s rebuke from behind me and I quickly turn around to face him. I don’t know what I did wrong. My knees weaken and my immediate reaction is to lower myself to the ground to show complete submission. I don’t want to go back to the cell. I can’t. I can’t go backward.
Before I can drop to the tiled floor, Anthony reaches out and firmly grips my arm and waist. “Now now, you’re alright. I just want you to relax.” His hands loosen on my waist and I struggle to look at him. I feel lost and powerless.
“I want you to undress out here. I need to take a look at you.” I nod my head at his words. Obviously that’s what he wanted. He’s already made me cum and seen my naughty bits, so this isn’t that far of a stretch. But it feels dirty somehow. I guess in a way it's more intimate. I pull the straps off my shoulders and let the thin nightgown fall into a heap around my feet.
Naturally I want to cover myself, but I don’t. I’ve read enough dark romance to know better. A submissive doesn’t hide her body from her dom.
Anthony’s quiet. He doesn’t move to touch me, and he doesn’t say anything at all. I find myself growing more anxious the longer he stays silent. What if he doesn’t find me attractive? What if he changes his mind? I close my eyes and try to breathe easy, but I can’t.
I’m not skinny, but I wouldn’t say I’m overweight either. I’ve got a pear shape and the cellulite on my ass to go with it. My breasts are small, but perky. I think I could be cute if I wasn’t so fucking pale. His eyes don’t give anything away. I wish he’d just say something already.
Before I can go into a full panic attack, he reaches out and places his hand on the dip in my waist. He crouches low and puts his face just inches above my pelvis. His fingers trace over a small scar on my hip.
“Where did this come from?” he asks.
I look down at the shiny white scar. It’s hardly noticeable. I’ve had it most of my life and I’ve never thought twice about it. “When I was younger, I hit something I guess, or