Part 22 (1/2)

Chapter 83.

Both my shoulders felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes. I glanced down. A blonde head and a red one. I faintly smelled the clean scent of their shampoo. I could feel their gentle breathing against my bare chest. Sheila's handcuffed hands lying easily between us. I could feel the light pressure of both of their bodies next to mine.

I feared that my arms were asleep. They felt odd. Thick and heavy. I stirred, not wanting to wake the sleeping women. Elizabeth muttered something in her sleep. Sounded like ”Not yet.” Her unconscious mind interpreted the stirring of her pillow as a sign to turn over. She muttered something else and rolled over her bound hands, curling up on her right side, turned away from me. I flexed my freed right hand, beginning to feel the blood return. I winced as the pins and needles began. My mind briefly realized that the girls had to go through this everytime I released them from tight rope work. Elizabeth's head must have been pressing on a nerve or something. I didn't mind; I patiently waited for feeling to return to the limb.

I gently moved my right hand over and touched Sheila's shoulder once the pins and needles had receded. She mumbled something incoherent but wasn't quite as cooperative as Elizabeth. She burrowed herself further into my shoulder and refused to wake.

I slipped my hand under her head and gently lifted her. I was careful of the bruises I knew were still there. I extricated my left arm from below her head and lowered her back to the pillow. She unconsciously reached for me with her hands, but settled down into a fetal position. Her bound ankles drawn up. I crawled over Elizabeth and dropped to the floor. I carefully covered the still slumbering women back up. Sheila sighed in her sleep as the covers were tucked around her.

I picked up a bathrobe off the back of the bedroom door and slipped it around me. Probably Evan's. A bright blue terry cloth.

I carefully closed the door behind me, letting Elizabeth and Sheila sleep.

I padded down the stairs and wandered into the kitchen. I flipped on the coffee pot. The women were going to want coffee when they finally got up. Soon the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. I was ravenous. We'd skipped a meal last evening. No dinner for anyone. I guess everyone was too tired. None of the girls had complained that they were hungry.

I found some orange juice in the refrigerator and poured a big gla.s.s for myself. I drank it in one long swallow. Tasted like real orange juice. Not that from concentrate stuff. In this house, it wouldn't have surprised me.

I padded out into the living room.

”Good morning,” Amy was sitting up on the sofa. Awake as I walked in. ”I wondered how long I was going to have to sit here twiddling my thumbs.”

I flipped on the lights and wandered over to the window, pulling the shades open. I yawned and turned to the bare girl just swinging her legs. She still had sleep in her eyes. Her hair was a bit of a mess, but it looked like she had at least run her fingers through it.

”Good morning. Been up long?”

”Not too long. When did you put this on me?” She raised her right leg and rattled the ankle chain.

”Last night. You were kind of asleep at the time. I didn't want to wake you.”

”You didn't have to do it. I wouldn't have moved or tried to run.”

”I know. Call me suspicious.”

”You still don't trust me.”

”Would you?”

”I guess not. But I would have started breakfast if I had been able to move.”

I smiled. ”You can cook?”

”Not very well. Not like Christi.” Her stomach growled. ”G.o.d I'm hungry. Can a slave beg to have something more than cereal this morning?”

”What do you have in mind? Since you and I are the only two awake, I guess you get your choice this morning.”

”Oh G.o.d. I'd love some of those pancakes that Christi made the other day. But, I can't make them like that. I'm not that great in the kitchen.”

While she was talking I knelt down and released her bare ankle from the ankle restraints. She instinctively raised her right leg, bending her knee and placing her bare foot up on the sofa cus.h.i.+on. She idly rubbed her ankle. The steel had left a slight mark on the back of her leg, near the Achilles tendon. Probably just slept on it there. I hadn't tightened it into her skin.

I gathered the cuffs into my hands, moving to drop them back in the equipment pack.

”What can you cook?”

She didn't even suggest that I cook something. She just accepted the fact that I could force her to do anything, may as well just do it. Making breakfast was far more pleasant than getting whipped. She understood that it was going to be her job to make breakfast this morning. It didn't look like she minded.

”Mmmmm. I can cook scrambled eggs. And bacon. And toast. Hard to screw that up.” He stomach rumbled again as she thought of the food.

”That would do just fine. Hope they have enough eggs.”

Amy stood up. ”You'll let us eat them too?”

”Yeah. You all missed dinner last night. I'm sure you are all as hungry as I am. Hungry girls can't perform.”

”I noticed the lack of a meal last night. But you were a bit busy. I was afraid to mention it. I thought maybe you were punis.h.i.+ng us.” She spoke as we both walked barefoot into the kitchen. ”What were you doing up there, anyway? Mmmmmmm. Coffee. Can a slave beg for a cup. Please. Please. Please.”

”I wasn't punis.h.i.+ng you. I just forgot. And I was taking care of a pest last night. And I'll get you a cup.”

Confusion crossed her face, but she didn't ask for more details. Her face brightened when she realized that I was going to allow her the coffee. I'd turned on the coffee maker and I certainly didn't drink the stuff. It was for the girls. I opened the refrigerator and picked up a dozen eggs. ”This be enough for you?” Amy nodded. I picked up a package of maple flavoured bacon as well. ”Can you cook with your hands cuffed?”

”I guess I'll have to learn.”

I walked to the bare beauty. ”Wrists.”

”You have to be kidding. I can't cook with them behind my back. Honestly.” She thought I was going to recuff her. She was so used to being bound.

”Relax. I'm taking them off you.” And I did.

Again, confusion crossed her face. But she just rubbed her wrists once and picked up the carton of eggs. I walked over to the coffee maker, dug out a mug and poured her a cup of coffee. ”Cream and sugar?”

”Just cream if you are allowing me.”

I smiled. She did know what to say this morning. I was in a good mood. I found some cream and poured a drop from the carton into the steaming mug. I stirred it and delivered the poison. She smiled like the Ches.h.i.+re cat. She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip. Savouring the taste. I didn't allow them these pleasures all that often. Didn't want to spoil them.

”Oh G.o.d. That's good. Your slave, she thanks you. You said that there was another girl?”

”Yeah. Sheila.”

”When do I get to meet her?”

”At breakfast.” I settled into a kitchen chair. There were only four chairs around the small kitchen table.

”Hmmm. Two eggs each. That should be enough. Unless you want more for yourself.” She knew that the girls would have to split whatever I allowed them to have.

”Two's fine.” I watched as she struggled with the package of bacon. Finally cutting it open with kitchen shears and dumping the contents into a pan. It immediately began to hiss. She began to break eggs into a bowl, mixing them up with a whisk. Soon the captivating smell of bacon permeated the kitchen.

”She happy about being here? I guess not,” Amy returned to the subject of Sheila.

”Actually, I think she's happier about being here than where she was in real life.”