Page 54 of Chad's Chase
So he inflicted.
He had his rush.
He came.
Then he would make her remain bent over while he rested. And in a few minutes, he would do it all over again. And again. Until sundown.
On Sundays, the girl would curl up under the covers in her bed, wide awake, with no appetite, and just stare at the white walls, daring herself not to cry. Not to let him break her.
Then came Monday, a new day of training she never asked for.
Taking a deep breath, the girl swung open the door and stepped back in confusion when she saw that it was her guard there, whom she still called The Big Man in Black because he wouldn’t tell her his name.
Alongside him was a beautiful auburn-haired woman. She was tall and slender and could easily pass for one of those models the girl saw on television. The girl figured she had to be someone of importance, what with how she was elegantly dressed in an ivory skirt suit, black gloves, and shiny black high heels. Her sheened hair wrapped in a neat up-do.
The girl couldn’t stop staring at the woman, she was so pretty.
“W-where’s Mr. D?” the girl asked.
The Big Man in Black’s face hardened, but it wasn’t at her, it was at her words. She knew this because she’d overheard him telling another guard how much he hated Mr. D. And as the years dragged on by, The Big Man in Black had grown fonder and fonder of her. He was the one who advised her that all she had to do was obey the rules and things would be easier.
One day she’d been bold enough to ask him, “Will Mr. D ever stop coming to take his pay?”, and his eyes had glazed over as he said, “Wish for it, girl. Wish for it, and I’ll give it to you.”
The girl had closed her eyes and wished for it aloud, and The Big Man in Black had turned and left without a word.
But he’d never granted her the wish, because Mr. D came for his payment the following Saturday, and the next Saturday after that, and the next. Every Saturday for the past six months since she’d made her wish, Mr. D showed up.
The Big Man in Black never delivered.
But as he stood there in her doorway with the important-looking redhead beside him, the girl knew undoubtedly that today was the day.
When he opened his mouth and said, “Mr. D won’t be coming for payments anymore”, tears gushed from the girl’s eyes, as her body rocked with sobs, and it felt like two mangled, flaming trains had been shoved off her shoulders.
The Big Man in Black had granted her wish.
She fought not to throw herself at him and drown him in a profusion of “Thank You’s”, because that wasn’t allowed, which meant she could get in real trouble.
The Big Man in Black motioned to the pretty woman beside him, who was smiling benignly at her. “This is your new trainer. You may call her Miss B.”
Wiping away her tears, the girl smiled up at the woman. Because there just wasn’t anything else to do but smile when someone so beautifully entrancing was standing in front of you.
Later on, the girl would learn that her captor and Miss B’s employer had insisted that the payment for her training remained the same.
So Miss B came on Sundays.
But this Sunday payment wasn’t dreaded. It wasn’t roughness or pain. It was soft, slow and passionate. Pleasure the girl never knew existed.
And, although she knew it was wrong of her, the girl couldn’t help looking forward to Sundays.
On Saturday nights, she went to bed extra early and fell asleep with a smile, excited and impatient for the imminent bliss of the approaching day.
Sundays were payday for Miss B.
The girllovedSundays.
