Page 18 of Dozer

And since this rental was equipped for vampires and their people, this room locked from the outside, so even if she got free, she wouldn’t get out of the room. She was seated, she couldn’t lie down, and she might manage to doze, but she wouldn’t get much actual sleep. Still, her weight was off her feet, which I considered a small kindness. I left the light on, and I wasn’t certain if that was a kindness or not. She wasn’t going to be afraid in the dark, but she also wasn’t going to have the luxury of trying to nap in the dark.

And then I slept.

Chapter 14

Daisy

My first days with Master are kind of a blur. I was bound almost all the time, but he didn’t rape me, as I expected him to. He fed me really good food, but my wrists were tied to the chair during meals, and I was fed like a child. A few times, he allowed me to hold a glass or bottle and drink, but most of the time, he held a straw to my lips, or tipped a glass up. And always, he fed me with his fingers, or a fork, or a spoon.

And what was it about his fingers touching my mouth that created this throbbing, pulsing,achebetween my legs. And sometimes he did more than tie my hands to the chair, but used ropes all over so I couldn’t moveanythingwhile he fed me, the scratchy ropes rubbing against me as I moved and squirmed, trying to ignore what was going ondown belowand focus on the food, but then his fingers would stroke across my lips again when he fed me, and everything pulsed evenmore.

He was cruel at times, but mostly, Dozer took care of all my needs, and he did so with kindness.

Well, all of my needs except one, because he didn’t let me fuckingsleep.

I was never in a dark room, lying horizontal. He left me alone for long hours, likely when he was sleeping, but sometimes I was bound standing, while other times I was bound seated, but it was always light, never dark, and I had no idea what time of day it was.

He was kind, though. He carried me around like a baby, he fed me like a parent, and even when he put me in a horrible position so I ended up fucking myself on a candle for what felt like hours and hours andhours, he was gentle when he put me into place and then gentle when he removed me. My pussy felt like I’d been gang-raped because I spent so much time bound with a large candle inside me, but he hadn’t actually fucked me yet. He hadn’t put so much as a finger inside me.

I was beyond exhausted, and so sleep-deprived I could barely think, when he began to train me to follow orders.

At first, the orders involved exercise. Push-ups, crunches, running in place, and chin-ups on a bar he hung from the ceiling. He ordered me to clean the kitchen after he made spaghetti, and when I didn’t wipe the counters and stove down to his specifications, he showed me where I went wrong and had me do it again, but he was patient about it.

When he made breakfast for us the next day and I missed a spot on the stove, I received my first consequence — kneeling on rice while facing the corner for fifteen minutes. He still wasn’t angry with me, though. He calmly told me where to kneel, and then hooked me up so I wouldn’t be able to move once I was down.

I had no idea how badly that was going to hurt until I was in the midst of it, and I vowed to myself to never fuck that up again. He wanted it wiped and cleaned perfectly, and I’d pay better attention to doing so in the future. I cried huge elephant tears while I kneeled in the corner, but I didn’t dare speak and tell him it hurt, lest he’d put something horrible on my tongue again. I could make sounds, but he didn’t want me speaking unless he asked a direct question, and he rarely did, in those first days.

When my fifteen minutes were up, I had to clean the rice from the floor, and I was careful to find every last grain. Then he gave me the sponge and rag and instructed me to wipeeverything in the kitchen down again, and I was super-careful to be certainallsurfaces were spotless, this time.

Later, he showed me a number of positions, and he talked me through the logic of how he’d numbered them. Position One was lying on my back with my knees up in the air, kind of like the bottom of missionary. Position Two was lying on my stomach. Position Three was knees and chest. Position Four was on all fours. Position Twenty-One, the final position, was standing with my legs spread and my hands clasped behind my head.

And each position had variations, and I thought they were easy at first, except he demanded I lookpleasingin every variation of every position, and that was damned hard in some of them.

I first experienced Master’s belt during the second day of position training, which I think was maybe five or six days after I signed the contract. If I didn’t immediately go into the proper position, he struck me with it, and once in position, if he wasn’t pleased with my posture and bearing, he’d tell me and give me a few seconds to fix myself, but if I didn’t, he usually struck me three times before talking me through what I must do to look pleasing.

Chapter 15

Daisy

Once, when he left me bound and I thought he was asleep, he must’ve gone home, because he returned with leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and a whole lot of dildos and butt plugs. Also, blindfolds, a whole bunch of gags, and so many whips, floggers, and canes, it was clear I’d signed my life away to a sexual pervert, though I didn’t dare point that out, by this point.

He finally cut the duct-tape cuffs and cincher off me, though, and allowed me to take a shower and wash my hair. He’d just rubbed me downeverywherewith baby wipes, since that first shower however-many-days before.

A shower feltheavenly.

He set the temperature of the water, though, and while it wasn’t cold, it wasn’t exactly warm, either.

But at the end? Once all the soap was out of my hair, he turned it to freezing cold and held me in there while he counted down from thirty, aloud so I’d hear him, but I let loose with a string of cuss words, so I didn’t hear much of it.

“You bastard! Motherfucker! Let me out!”

When he’d counted down to zero, he sat on the closed toilet, put me over his lap, and spanked me with his bare hand until tears flowed from my eyes and I was apologizing profusely. My ass was fiery hot when he finished, and it felt bruised. His hand is big and meaty and he hit mehard, over and over and over. Ithought he’d never stop, and I was a crying mess when he finally did, choking on my own tears and snot.

But still, he wasn’t mad or angry. He was so matter-of-fact about everything, I wanted to make him mad, or dosomethingto show emotion, but I also didn’t want him to ever spank me like that again.

And then he’d dried me, wrapped a warm blanket fresh from the dryer around me, and sat with me in his lap, holding me like an infant in his tree-trunk sized arms.

“The spanking was for calling me names and being disrespectful. The cold water at the end wasn’t punishment, but you needed to understand what a cold shower will be like, and now you do. You can earn the right to regulate the temperature yourself, but until then, I’ll do so for you. Today, it was lukewarm because I’m pleased with your attempts to obey. If I’m displeased, it’ll be cooler, and if you stop trying to please me, it’ll be cold water without any warm at all. So long as you’re trying, there’ll be at least a little warmth.”

---