Updated 4/3/2023
Sit? Sit! Panicking, I look around briefly for the place that makes the most sense. Unfortunately, my flustered brain decides that right where I stand is the best option, and plop right down on my sore knees, thankful for the soft rug beneath me. For a few moments, he continues to watch the television. He appears to be okay with my placement, momentarily. But then, he turns to me. I avoid eye contact by staring forward at a button on the sofa cushion. This displeases him greatly. His chisled jaw moves along with the gritting of his teeth, as he scowls. My heart sinks further down into my gut, with every pulse of hot blood through the protruding vein in his neck. What in the celestial stars is going through his mind right now? As if hearing the question in my thoughts, a deep sigh leaves his lips in reply. He leans forward, bending down to meet my gaze, and we lock eyes with our faces only an inch apart. The ice in his eyes has been replaced by fire. "We could have done this the e
Three women who I don't recognize enter the room and walk to a door on the left side of the wall. My master clears his throat, and without even sparing me a glance, he gets up from his seat on the sofa. His long legs carry him through the door in no time at all, and it closes behind him as if he hadn't just been right beside me, hadn't just made my whole world tremble, only moments ago. My eyes follow him as he vanishes before me, every ounce of warmth I had felt has now fled my body. The only thing I'm left with is the chill of separation. What is this? Why do I have such a feeling of loneliness now? An hour ago, I wanted to be left alone and now, I feel like a small child in need of a reassuring embrace. It doesn't make sense to me how someone so cold, a man I resent so much, can make me feel such yearning, upon their departure. I should be glad that he's gone. Still, the sight of his back to me, as he left me there, all alone, saddens me. I wrap my arms around my chest and hol
Writing in this cursed diary is such a daunting task, but Akida insists that it's beneficial to my mental well being, so here's to following doctor's orders. At least I have an interesting topic to write about in this entry, instead of droning on about business deals and prototypes. I was out to bid on some new properties today, and something a bit unexpected, to say the least, occurred at the auction house. I'm now the owner of a slave. She's quite a pretty little thing, actually. I suppose I didn't really intend on things turning out this way, but when I saw her, I just couldn't let someone else snatch her away. There's something about her that just pulls me in. I'm all too well aware that I'm no saint, but the thought of her being sold to one of those fat old devils was too much for even my dark heart to bear. The other bidders looked like lions, ready to pounce on her, like weak prey. She wouldn't even stand a chance against those pot bellied heathens. Mr. Nashira is well kno
Bath time? In this place? That seems like a dream come true, to be honest. I would never have thought, in my wildest dreams, that I'd ever be soaking in a tub like this. Not that I could've conjured up a picture of one like it in my imagination. I'd love to jump in and rinse the day away, just wash away all my cares with whatever is in those pretty bottles... But is it really okay for me to bathe here? I'm used to the streams during the spring and summer. In the colder months, we used a metal tub and heated water by the fire. I don't feel right using this room. I look at Elise, and she raises her eyebrows and thumbs in approval. "A bath sounds wonderful right now.", I concede. I'm tired of fighting. I'm filled to the brim with conflicting emotions, frustration, and exhaustion. Frankly, I'm also so ashamed of myself that I didn't hate the sinful rendezvous that just transpired between my master and I, quite as much as I know that I should have. I feel so wrong, so dirty! All I wan
"Euroah?", calls the voice of my father. "Euroah, wake up, little sleepy head." I blink a few times before finally opening my eyes. To my surprise, I glance around to see not a fancy chamber of white, but my old room, back on the farm. The warmth of the sun's rays peeps through the aged curtains on the creaky, old paned windows. In the air, floats the scent of Father's coffee. I'm home! My simple room, the quilt that my mother stitched by hand, in the months before I was born, my little wardrobe of colorful clothing, everything is right where it belongs! All is just how it should be. This can't be real! How did I get here? Have I been dreaming this whole time? Has all of this been some strange nightmare? I knew that television, thing couldn't exist in real life! "Father!", I cry out. "Rise and shine, little lady! We've got work to do!", he calls back to me. I throw the covers off and jump out of bed. My feet hit the floor, running for the kitchen, where I just know he must
"He's a sight to see, isn't he?", Elise teases me as she tops off my glass of orange juice."I was just enjoying the courtyard scenery.", I fib.Even a blind man would be able to tell that my master is more than the average kind of handsome. He's mature looking, sophisticated, even regal, tall and lean, yet muscular. A lady could get lost in his steely eyes if she isn't careful. All of this is true but the fact that he owns me makes me resent him so much that I don't want to find him good looking in the slightest! And I certainly won't admit to anyone else that I find him attractive."Ah, the scenery.", she replies sarcastically. "I see. Well, what would you like to do now?""Do?", I think aloud. "I think I'd like to walk around outside if that's alright.""I'm sorry. Mr. Velucia has ordered that you stay in your quarters unless he directly calls for you.""S
With one hand on the side of my neck, just under my jaw, he brings his other hand up and pulls me closer, leaning down until our foreheads touch. I look into his eyes and he uses his thumb to brush a tear away. With two fingers, he then slides them across my lips and closes his eyes. Breathing in deeply, as if inhaling me, he moves his other hand to the small of my back and tries to pull me into his arms. Before he can fully entrap me, I shove myself away.I don't hate the feeling of his touch but I don't want to be someone's property. And he's treating me like I'm nothing but an object for his amusement. He's so confusing! On one hand, he speaks so cruelly, with such indifference, with not an ounce of warmth or compassion in his tone. On the other hand, he wipes my tears away and touches me tenderly.Would it hurt him to at least pretend he sympathizes with my situation? I don't want to enjoy his caresses while he makes my blood run h
These feelings of mine? So it seems he doesn't feel the things he makes me feel. Then why does he do it? Why does he insist on continuing these acts that make my head spin? Does it even matter? I contemplate vocalizing my questions but before I can utter a sound, his hands slip under my shoulders, pulling me up to sit on his lap. Face to face with the man who torments me so, all I can do it stare as the fire in my chest simmers my heavy heart. He rubs his bottom lip on my collar bone and wraps his arms around me to unhook my bra.Then, grabbing the bottom of my dress, he pulls it up over my head and tosses it behind him. It lands on the floor with a swishing sound as his hands so gently and slowly slide my bra straps down my arms. They tickle and tease me the whole way along, the sensations elevated by my heightened senses. The bra gets thrown to the floor as well and he runs his hands along my bare back before cupping the back of my head again, laying me back d