Part 53 (2/2)

”You know. You don't have to do that to us. Make us sleep like that. You have no idea how uncomfortable it is.”

”What would you suggest? Letting you run free? Let you stick scissors in my chest?”

”You know we wouldn't do that. Lock us in a room or something?”

”Ahhh. And what if I like sleeping with a warm body or two?”

”Then tie us up then? The ones that you are sleeping with.”

”I'll think about it.”

Christi began to move around the kitchen. Gathering cooking utensils, pans.

”Can a slave have her coffee now?”

I glanced over at the coffee machine. It was just finis.h.i.+ng up perking.

I walked over to the coffee machine and poured her out a mug. I placed it in her outstretched hand. She looked at it. Then turned her blue eyes to gaze at me. Pleading in them.

”Can a slave have cream and sugar? Please?”

I was in a tormenting mood for some reason. ”Any particular reason?”

”Because I. She likes it that way? Please?”

”Does it matter how you like it?”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. Not knowing why she was being tormented. Not knowing why I wasn't letting her drink her coffee with cream and sugar.

”No sir. I. She'll drink it as you want.”

She brought the mug to her lips and sipped at the bitter brew. Tears in her eyes, she turned away towards the stove. I relented. She just looked so forlorn, and she hadn't give me a hard time about it. Trying to please.

”Christi?”

She turned towards me again. ”Yes sir?” she replied a bit sullenly.

”Come here.”

She walked over. Waited. Then knelt. Her coffee still in her hand. She placed it on the floor in front of her. Tilting her head up to look at me.

”Would you beg for cream and sugar?”

”If I had to.”

I considered. She would. I knew she would. I didn't need to hear it this morning.

I extended my hand, helping her to her feet. I guided her over to towards the counter where the sugar was. Gave her a little push.

”Go on. You've been a good girl. Fix your coffee.”

She turned to me, confusion on her pretty face. An unspoken question. Why?

”Because you didn't beg, but you would have.”

She still looked confused, but didn't want to risk her cream and sugar. She scampered over and fixed her coffee. She tasted it and smiled in my direction. Wordlessly thanking me and returning to mixing her pancake batter.

I watched her nude body as she worked, soon smelling the sweet odors of pancakes frying. She set the small table. Plates for the girls. Plate and cutlery for me. A huge jug of syrup.

”They'll be ready soon. Care to get the others, or you want me to?”

I rose, leaving her to her tasks. I returned to the entertainment room. Jane was awake. But that was it. She got up off the sofa as I entered. She walked over, silently, and knelt at my feet. I ruffled her tangled hair and set about waking the others. Feeling evil, I approached Elizabeth's chair. She was still fast asleep.

Her nipples still had a trace of the rouge that she'd used. I reached out and suddenly grasped her nipples and twisted. Not enough to seriously hurt her, but she'd wake up quickly.

”Ahhhhhhhhh,” she screamed as she woke up. I released her and she lay back in the chair and tried to catch her breath. She struggled with her ropes but couldn't get free. Finally she just stared at me sullenly.

”What the h.e.l.l was that for?”

”I was feeling nasty.”

”I'll say. You aren't going to do it again, are you?” she paled as she realized just how vulnerable she was with her arms pinned behind her as they were.

”Nope. You're awake.”

”Some f.u.c.king alarm clock.”

I kissed her lips, and surprised she just kissed me back.

”You are always hard to wake up. I figured I'd just make sure you were awake.”

”Shake me next time.”

I leaned down and kissed her nipples. They were a bit redder than when I started.

”Alright. Go on. To the kitchen.”

All the girls were now awake. Elizabeth's scream having woken them.

The girls all rose and carefully made their way to the kitchen. Still bound.

I followed them at a discrete distance. Elizabeth was favouring her right leg, probably in a bit of pain from sleeping in the chair. I had aches in places where I didn't even know I had muscles. I was ready for a shower as well.

When I entered the kitchen, the smell of pancakes a.s.saulted me. Christi was free and happily cooking at the stove. The others had knelt down on the floor just waiting for me. Jane looked up at me as I entered.

”Sir? Can we be freed? Please?”

<script>