Page 50 of Silver

“I’m so sorry, Master. I shouldn’t have questioned you. It was disrespectful. I won’t do it again. I promise. You know what’s best for me. I should listen and learn from you. It’s not my place to argue.”

Her groveling pleases me immensely. More than I expected. She spews all that out rapidly, which makes it seem unrehearsed and authentic. I believe she’s learning.

After pulling the covers over her naked body, I sit on the edge of her small bed and stroke a stray lock of hair from her cheek before removing the band and releasing her braid.

I run my fingers through the soft locks, caressing her scalp with each stroke.

Eventually, she blows out a breath and settles.

“Good girl. I appreciate and accept your apology. You know better than to talk back to me. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’m well in tune with your needs, Daphne. I know you’re still questioning my motives. I’m sure there’s a war inside your head. You think I’m too hard on you. You’re still plotting how to escape. You think our relationship is too fucked up. But you need to understand that we’re a matched pair, you and me. We’re fulfilling each other’s needs. It’s no one else’s business what a healthy relationship looks like.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers.

“I’m going to be hard on you because it’s what you need. You’ll never be happy in a vanilla relationship with a boring man who can’t satisfy your needs. If you were to run from me, you would be lost and confused until you found your way back. You need what I’m offering you. You’re so very lucky you found me at such a young age, so you don’t have to spend years wandering aimlessly, in and out of relationships that don’t work for you, uncertain as to why. If we hadn’t met, you would have eventually married someone who couldn’t give you what you need. You would have been unhappy, trying to follow societal norms, and ended up divorced, only to repeat the process with another boring man who knows nothing about the needs of a deeply masochistic little slut.”

She sniffles. “You’re right, Sir. Thank you for reminding me.”

I’m confident her tears are mostly real. I don’t think she’s capable of forcing fake emotions. However, her words of agreement are spilling out of her because she thinks that’s what I want to hear.

One day soon, she will say those words and mean them. She’ll realize how fucking lucky she is to have me. It won’t take long.

She’s struggling to keep her arm on the mattress because the heavy chain is tugging on it, so I gather the slack and bring it to her, lifting her hand to settle it on top of the cold metal. “Wrap your fingers around the chain, precious girl. It will help to remind you who you belong to as you sleep.”

She fists as much of the pile of links as she can and pulls it closer to her cheek. “Thank you, Sir.”

I rub her back, not wanting to leave her yet. It’s not late, but she will go to bed early and rise early. Starting tomorrow. She has no idea what time it is. There are no clocks in this room or mine. She doesn’t have her phone. She hasn’t even asked me where I put it. I don’t want her thinking about the time. She will rely on me to keep a schedule for her, to make sure she gets to her classes on time.

Tomorrow is going to be another challenging day for her. I need to leave her to rest. I want to be sure she gets eight hours of sleep at night so she’s always at her best.

I, on the other hand, need five. I can manage on four, but five is optimal. That gives me three extra hours every day to get things done and prepare for my girl’s needs.

Before I go, I remind her of something. “Remember, naughty girl, there are cameras on you at all times. I know your cunt is very greedy, but do not ever reach down and try to touch it. If I even suspect you’ve played with your slutty little pussy, I will shackle both of your arms, instead of one, and it will be a fucking long time before I trust you again. I suggest you keep your free hand outside the covers so there is no doubt in my mind.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I bend and kiss her temple. I’m out of excuses to continue sitting here. “Sleep well, precious girl.” Rising, I leave her and lock the door.

The challenge for me is going to be not spending hours watching my girl sleep. I must get other things done, but I’ll keep a monitor open on one of the camera angles so I can at least glance at her every now and then.

I’m usually a disciplined man. I can do this.

I dive into my work for a few hours before finally dropping into bed. Hopefully, sleep will suck me under quickly. It usually does.

“Get in the closet, you little fuck.” My stepfather grabs me by the collar and nearly lifts me off my feet to drag me to the dreaded closet.

I struggle, kicking at him, trying to get away. I hate it when he locks me in the closet. It’s the worst of all his punishments. Sometimes he forgets about me, and I end up pissing myself. It smells in there from all the times my pee has soaked into the carpet.

Nevertheless, he shoves me into the small space under the stairs, slams the door, and locks it. I crouch in the corner, wrap my arms around my legs, and start rocking. It’s dark in here, but not pitch black. Light comes under the door. At least it’s enough for me to know if it’s still day or if the lights are on in the living room. Sometimes he leaves me in here all night.

I won’t cry. Crying is for babies. I’m seven. I’m not a baby. My sister is a baby, though. Briana is too young to know what a shitty house she was born into. I feel sorry for her, but there’s nothing I can do to save her from her future.

I flinch as I hear my stepfather slamming things in the living room. That’s what he does. He drinks too much beer, and then he has a tantrum and starts screaming at everyone. He really hates me in particular, though, so he yells at me more than anyone else. I think it’s because he’s not my real father. He says he’s been saddled with me, and I’m ruining his fucking life.

Rocking back and forth, I once again wish I’d happened to have peed before he lost his temper and took it out on me. I didn’t do anything. I know I didn’t. I’m a good boy. I never get into trouble. He invents things so he’ll have someone to yell at.