Chapter Text
This story doesn’t have a happy ending.
What happened to me was a tragedy. The collar on my neck signified the severity of how absolutely fucked I was, and served as a spiteful reminder that I fully belonged to her.
I should have known from the start that Rosa DiAngelo was a liar, a cheater, an abusive kidnapper, and an unapologetic sadist. But I was so blinded that by the time I discovered the truth, it was too late.
I learned the hard way that roses have thorns. And Rosa's thorns were poisonous.
Her voice boomed from behind the door to my bedroom. "Get your ass out of bed and get ready for the day! I shouldn't have to wait on you!"
As much as I wanted to ignore her or escape her cruel dominant grasp, I knew that it was impossible. I had to obey her every order, no matter how much I despised it.
She was my owner.
And I was her slave.
I groaned as I pulled my exhausted body out of bed.
"I'm sorry. I'm awake now," I called out. I don't know if she heard me. It didn't even matter. I had already upset her.
I put on my glasses, and looked around my room, which Rosa nicknamed the "slave quarters". I will admit that my room was much nicer than the bedroom in my old apartment. Carpeted flooring, a wooden bed frame with gold accents, mahogany paneling on the walls, and a massive window all gave the illusion that I was living an extravagant and lavish life, and not captured and imprisoned by a rich and powerful woman.
The outside was still dark. I checked the clock on the wall. 5:47 AM. Fuck, I slept in!
I had only been Rosa's slave for a week, but I already knew the basic routine. I was to wake up at 5:30 every day, make her breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the appropriate times, follow her every order no matter how perverted or degrading, and when I had nothing else to do, I was to clean her already spotless mansion.
I was just a maid that she could beat and abuse whenever she wanted. I could do nothing to stop it.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My pale skin was covered in bruises and scratch marks, pain inflicted by my Mistress. My auburn hair was a complete mess, flowing in all different directions. My emerald green eyes hurt from a mix of crying and lack of sleep. I was completely naked, apart from my glasses, and a single piece of jewelry; a thick golden collar with floral engravings.
I stared out the window into the dark woods outside. I could probably jump out the window, using bed sheets to climb down, and make a run for it… if the window wasn't made of three inch thick bulletproof glass. And even if I could manage to get outside, where would I even go? Rosa's home was in the middle of the wilderness. Apart from her large and luxurious mansion and the long and winding paved road leading to it, there was no civilization for miles. Only mountains and trees and wild animals existed beyond the walls of the estate.
Thinking about escape was pointless and futile. So why was I doing it? I had to accept that this was my life now, until she decided to free me herself... which would probably never happen. Not after what I did to her. Not after how I broke her heart.
Since I was already late waking up, I didn't have enough time to take a shower. I simply put on the same clothes I wore yesterday; a stupid frilly French maid outfit, which was the only type of outfit she let me wear. It had a black skirt that ended halfway above my knees, a white apron, a top that left most of my chest exposed, black leggings, dozens of bows, and small heeled shoes that were difficult to walk in. The dress itself would have been a little bit cute if it wasn't so revealing.
After a quick look in the mirror to adjust my tangled mess of hair and make sure I looked at least somewhat presentable, I stepped outside of my room, sighing heavily as I mentally prepared myself to serve my owner for the day.
My room was located on the second floor of Rosa’s house. I made my way to the living room, past the balcony and down the staircase. The center room of her mansion was decorated extravagantly with a luxurious couch in front of a large fireplace, and a massive grand piano that she would often play in her free time.
My owner reclined on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. She barely glanced at me when she spoke.
"Finally, you're awake. Go ahead and get started on breakfast." She spoke dismissively, not even looking up.
Rosa was a tall beautiful Latina woman with tan skin. She had luxurious curly brown hair that flowed down one side of her head, and dark brown eyes that glistened in the light.
It amazed me that she could more than easily afford a fancy mansion in the middle of the woods, all its furnishings, all her expensive clothes and jewelry. And yet, around me she dressed mostly casually, in a turtleneck sweater and regular pants. The most extravagant thing she wore was her signature golden bracelet. She simply didn't feel the need to wear a glamorous dress and expensive accessories. Besides, it's not like any person other than me would ever see her like this. And I’m hardly a person.
"Are you just going to stand there staring at me like an idiot? Get to work!" she raised her voice. She put her phone down and reached towards the golden bracelet on her left wrist.
Before I could even react, Rosa pressed a small hidden button on her bracelet. The white light on my collar flashed red. In an instant, I felt a searing hot sensation in my neck.
I yelped as I reflexively grabbed at the electric collar on my throat, breathing deeply as the sensation subsided. The pain wasn't as horrible as other shocks I had received, and only lasted a fraction of a second. But it surprised me and brought me to attention.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed, before quickly bowing my head. “I-I’m sorry Rosa.”
“Watch your language, mutt!” she snapped at me as I received another painful jolt. “And you are to address me as ‘Mistress’. Understood?”
I nodded, trying to ignore the pain. “Yes... Mistress.”
“Get started on breakfast, slave,” she growled as she returned to her phone. “You’re lucky I’m so nice to you.”
I wish I could take this hellish collar off my throat, but that would probably never happen unless Rosa allowed it. I had tried to remove it myself only once, immediately after she put it on me. As I tried to open the latch, I experienced the worst pain I could possibly imagine. It felt like I was struck by lightning. I immediately blacked out. When I came to, she laughed at my pathetic attempt to escape. She told me that if I ever tried to take off my collar again, the resulting shock would be far worse.
Of course she could also control my collar manually with that bracelet she wore, simply by pressing a button whenever she felt like it. So that was two possible ways for me to get shocked. And judging by the rapid beeping that emanated from my collar as I walked a little too close to the front door, I assumed there was also a third way. I would never attempt to test that theory. I may be stupid, but not stupid enough to simply attempt to walk out the front door to try to escape. I valued my own life a little more than that.
I don’t know why my brain always went back to escaping. I already knew it was pointless. But part of me knew how pathetic it was to give just up. Part of me continued to fight. One day, just not today, I would eventually think of a plan to get out of here. Until then, I was Rosa’s slave, as much as I absolutely despised it.
Rosa expected breakfast at 6 am sharp. I hadn’t been late yet, but given that I slept in, I needed to hurry to make sure she was served on time. I made what I knew; scrambled eggs. A bit cliche, but it was one of the few meals I was actually half decent at making. I had been making my own breakfast for years, so I was able to quickly prepare it for her. I quickly brewed up some coffee as the pans sizzled, being sure to add extra cream, just the way she likes it.
There wasn’t much else I was able to make without the proper utensils. Rosa kept everything that could be potentially used as a weapon locked in a drawer and didn’t allow me to touch them. The fact that she thought I might try to stab her with a knife was absurd, but I guess it was a reasonable precaution.
I served Rosa her food, setting it on the coffee table in the living room. She almost never ate breakfast in the dining room. She preferred to flip through TV channels and browse her phone as she ate.
“You’re late,” She complained as I placed the meal down.
I looked at the large grandfather clock, which had just chimed a bit ago. It was 6:01.
“But- I'm only one minute late...” I started.
“Don’t talk back to me, slave!” She yelled. She gave me another brutal shock, which almost brought me to my knees. “Maybe you’d be on time if you didn’t sleep in.”
“I… I’m sorry, Mistress. It won’t happen again.”
“I believe it when I see it,” Rosa spat, turning back to her phone.
I stood there for a moment longer, a bit too nervous to speak.
“What do you want, slave?” Rosa groaned, not looking up.
“May I… make myself something to eat?”
“Ugh, fine. Go. And when you’re done, you can do the dishes.”
Even when I was in the same room as her, even as she was giving me orders, it felt like she was ignoring me.
I prepared a plate using the leftover scraps from her breakfast. My meals mostly consisted of the burnt and discarded remains of my attempts at cooking for my owner. Rosa didn't allow me to eat anything more than the bare minimum to stay alive. She wanted me weak, and too malnourished to fight back.
Eating nothing scrambled egg leftovers or burnt discarded pancakes every morning made me dream of an actual decent meal. Of course, I'd have to learn how to make something like that first. I was hardly a decent cook. I only knew a few recipes, mainly what I learned from friends, including Rosa.
Back before she was a cruel, sadistic slave owner, we had actually dated. We met at a bar several months back, and quickly fell in love. Ever since I fell in love with her, I often take the long trip out west the mountains and spend the weekend with her in her mansion, rather than my shitty apartment. Spending time here with her was an escape from the chaos in the city. Even though she was extremely rich, she never made me feel like I was less than her for being poor.
During the time we dated, Rosa had taught me a few recipes, mostly dishes she learned from her mother. She always spoke highly of her. Her mother was a Puerto Rican woman who worked as a prestigious politician. Rosa's father, however, I knew nothing about, and she almost never mentioned.
I wasn’t very comfortable talking about my past either. I had grown up poor and worked various jobs that I wasn’t proud of. The night I met Rosa, my life changed for the better.
And the night I hurt her, it changed for the worse. As revenge for breaking her heart, she took my freedom from me and made me her slave.
I sat alone in the dining room, finishing my breakfast as I contemplated my new life. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that meeting her would eventually lead to this. The woman I once loved, now controlling my every action, punishing me when I disobeyed, and being so cold and distant that she can’t even look me in the eye unless it’s to show me how furious she is with me and how worthless I was to her.
Certainly most other slaves are far more obedient and willing than I was. Otherwise, what’s the point of owning someone if they’re constantly going to mess up and think about fighting back like I do? I knew the only reason Rosa kept me as her slave was out of cruelty. Only she could properly punish me for how I treated her. But deep down, a part of me was slightly relieved it was her, and not some creepy stranger I’ve never met before keeping me as a sex slave.
I shook the disgusting thought from my mind as I finished eating, placed my dirty dishes in the sink, and retrieved the dishes from the coffee table in the living room. Rosa had already left by now, most likely retreating to her office. I grabbed the dishes off the table and brought them to the sink.
Of course she was in her office. She spent most of the day just avoiding me. She almost never wanted to be around me unless it was to punish me. This was infinitely worse than a bad break up. Not only had my life been taken from me, but Rosa wanted practically nothing to do with me.
The old Rosa, the one I had once loved, was gone. She was replaced by a cold, soulless, irredeemable monster. I knew that I had hurt her. I deeply regretted it. But what kind of sick twisted person thinks that this is an appropriate punishment for what I've done?
“Fuck you, Rosa,” I muttered, barely even audible. "You took my life from me, you bitch."
As if in response, a light on my collar began to glow blood red, and I fell to the ground as the pain hit my neck. I dropped the dishes to the floor, and tried in vain to pull at my collar.
The shock only lasted a second, but it was harsh and sudden, and completely unexpected. Could Rosa seriously activate my collar all the way from her office? Worse yet, could she somehow hear me from there, too?
Well, if she could hear me muttering under my breath, then hopefully she should also be able to hear me beg for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, Mistress! I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry...”
I picked up the shards of broken plates scattered across the ground, giving myself a small cut on my thumb as I did so. I guess I’ll keep my negative thoughts to myself from now on, if my Mistress could apparently hear my mumbles from the other side of the mansion.
My chores were tedious. Her mansion was already mostly clean, if a bit dusty. It was mainly just busy work. But I was somewhat glad there was something I could do to be useful. I could just focus on cleaning, instead of letting my mind wander and sink into the spiral of despair of knowing that my entire life had been taken from me.
I made sure the kitchen was spotless, wiping the floors and countertops with a wet rag. She had a dishwasher, but I wasn’t allowed to use it. Instead I had to wash all the dishes by hand. I at least had a sponge and dish soap, which I was incredibly thankful for, as it meant I didn’t have to scrub using my fingernails.
The cut I received earlier was somewhat irritating. It wasn’t too bad, and the bleeding has stopped pretty quickly. But the soap against the tip of my thumb stung like hell. I quickly rinsed the soap off and tried to lick the wound to soothe the pain, before realizing how embarrassing I looked. I was sucking my thumb like a baby. At least my owner couldn’t see me... I hoped.
I finished drying off the dishes and putting them away. I had no idea what to do with the broken plate. I would have to ask her what she wanted. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too mad…? No, that was wishful thinking. I knew damn well she’d be furious if she found out I broke one of her plates, even if it was because she shocked me. I quickly tossed the shards in the trash can, and hoped to god she wouldn’t notice one single missing plate.
My hair was a tangled mess, and I remembered I hadn’t taken a shower this morning. Seeing as there was a bit of time before Rosa expected her lunch, I decided to take one now. I really didn’t feel like having her complain about my appearance. She already insulted me enough.
My room, the slave quarters, was just a repurposed guest bedroom. Like most rooms in the house, the door had a lock that could be activated remotely. Luckily, Rosa had left it unlocked.
Inside was my bed, a small night stand, and a dresser that was completely empty. There was also an attached bathroom, and a small closet which only held identical black and white french maid outfits, which were the only thing I was allowed to wear. Rosa had taken all my regular clothes when she put my collar on me. It was just another reminder that I wasn’t a person. I was her property.
My own bathroom was small. Just a shower, toilet, and sink. On the countertop were various pill bottles, prescriptions I had taken for most of my life. Small orange bottles with labels I couldn’t pronounce. Apparently they were supposed to help with ADHD and depression and anxiety. But I didn’t feel like taking them. Even if Rosa had refilled my prescription for me, those pills barely helped in the first place. What would even be the point of taking them? Just a bit of momentary relief from the living hell that is my life? Maybe I could look up “medication to help cope with having your entire life taken away from you”, but unfortunately Rosa took my fucking phone, too!
I got undressed, and stared at myself in the mirror. A pathetic messy haired woman with a gold collar on her throat stared back at me. Her glasses were smudged. Her eyes were puffy from crying. I wanted to punch the mirror, punch that woman right in her face for being stupid enough to end up like this. But there wouldn’t be a point. I couldn’t hurt her any more than Rosa already had. It wasn’t the woman’s fault she was a slave. It was Rosa's fault.
I stepped away from the mirror, falling back into reality. Deep breaths.
I swiped the bottles off the counter. My name on the label was mocking me.
Stepping into the hot shower was the best experience I had all day. Finally, a brief moment of relaxation. Showers were precious to me. They were the only part of the day I had where I could ignore everything. Well, mostly everything.
My collar was a bit annoying, especially in the shower. I was terrified to take a shower my first day as a slave, assuming it would electrocute me as soon as it got wet. My fears were irrational, of course. The collar is entirely dormant most of the time, and only produces electricity when activated. As far as I could tell, it was completely waterproof. (Although I did always dread what would happen if Rosa decided to give me a shock while I was in the shower.) Really the only issue was that I couldn’t wash my neck properly.
I thought that after a few days, the feeling of the collar would go away. Eventually I would forget I’m even wearing it, like a necklace. But it never goes away. I’m constantly aware of it, all the time. I wasn’t allowed to forget even for a moment that I am a slave.
I couldn’t tell if it was just water from the shower flowing down my face, or if my tears were mixed in too. No, I can’t cry. This was the only time I had to myself. This was one of the only moments of peace that I had, and I wasn’t about to ruin it by thinking about how horrible my life was. I needed a way to distract myself.
As much as I hated her, part of me was still infatuated with Rosa. It was difficult, but if I could just pretend all the horrible things about her didn’t exist, like the slavery and torture and kidnapping and ruining my life, if I could just pretend she was the old Rosa, the fake Rosa who had hidden this part her life from me, the Rosa I used to love…
My hand made its way downwards. I hated masturbating while thinking about her, but I desperately needed the relief.
~~~~~~~
Rosa spent most of the day avoiding me. She hid in her office for hours, which I wasn't allowed to enter. The only other time I even saw her was at around noon, when I prepared her lunch.
Her home office was one of the rooms in her mansion that I was forbidden from entering. As I stepped towards the door, the white light on my collar turned red and began to blink faster, and a harsh beeping tone sounded, warning both me and my Mistress that I was too close to a room that was out of bounds, or one of the exits to her mansion. I didn't dare to step any closer, for fear of what might happen to me if I did.
I wondered if I should really risk my life just to knock on the door. As I stood there contemplating what to do, the door opened.
Rosa stood in the doorway to her office, her computer setup on the far side of the room behind her.
"God, it's about time you'd show up." She stepped into the doorway. "What's the point in owning a slave like you if you're always late?"
I didn't know how to respond to that. In all honesty, I didn’t really feel like talking to her at all. I simply stared at her for a moment, unsure if she would take the tray from me.
“Are you going to give me my food? Or are you going to keep standing there like an idiot?”
I looked at the tray, then back to her. I held it out in front of me as far as I could reach without losing balance. But without Rosa stepping out of the doorway, it wasn’t far enough for her to reach it.
“I said bring it here, slave. You can walk two steps closer, can’t you?” She smiled sadistically.
The tone from my collar continued its fast past beeping. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t disobey Rosa. But she was making this incredibly difficult for me.
Reluctantly, I stepped forward, preparing myself for the worst. As I did, a white hot pain engulfed my neck. My body jolted, and Rosa snatched the tray from my hands just before I would have dropped it. I fell to the ground, a bit surprised I managed to stay standing for as long as I did.
I crawled backwards as quickly as I could. The pain subsided as I backed away. Through tear-filled eyes I looked up at Rosa holding the tray of food she had taken from me just before I fell, and saw her laughing at me.
My heart was pounding as fast as the rapid beeping from my collar. I felt as if I had been struck by lightning.
Rosa's lips were moving, but I couldn't hear what she was saying over the ringing in my ears. My head was pounding.
Eventually my hearing returned. I slowly returned to my feet. The pain from the agonizing shock made me feel lightheaded and dizzy.
“W–what did you say, Mistress?” I barely managed to say as I tried to hold back my tears
"I said I can’t believe you actually fell for that. You really are an idiot.” She laughed to herself for a bit longer, before tapping her fist on the doorframe. “You're lucky I turned the voltage way down just for that.”
I had no idea how to respond to this other than with “Yes, Mistress”
She scoffed, saying only one word to me before she turned away and shut the door. “Pathetic...”
She was right. I was pathetic. For falling to my knees and crying at the first instance of pain. For allowing myself to put up with her constant torment and abuse. For letting myself get caught in this entire situation in the first place. I hated myself almost as much as I hated her.
~~~~~~~
Around mid afternoon, I found myself dusting the library. The room was directly underneath her home office on the second floor, and the doorway led to the main hall with the piano and balcony. Inside were several bookshelves, arranged against the octagonal walls of the room. A small table and four soft reading chairs sat in the center of the room.
On the table sat a vase with a bouquet of striped carnations, which had a beautiful white and red pattern on the petals. On the far side was a large oak desk, various papers and pens strewn about the top. Honestly, despite its small size, this would be a fantastic place to relax and read a book and drink some tea.
The bookshelves were a bit dusty, but I’d hardly call the room “a mess” as Rosa had described it. Looking through the books she had in her collection was incredibly interesting. She had mystery novels, books on ancient history, countless binders full of sheet music and piano arrangements, a massively thick book on the history and strategy of chess, and an entire shelf dedicated specifically to caring for flowers. I feel like I was seeing a side to her that I’ve never seen before. Not her fake persona that she put on to lure me in, and not her cruel sadistic side either. It was someone smart, sophisticated, with an education and interests that far surpassed my own.
As I was cleaning, I noticed a small section of books that appeared to protrude outward. Looking closer, I noticed there was something behind them. A large leather bound book, hidden at the back of the shelf. It was a photo album. Curiosity got the better of me, and I flipped through the pages.
One photograph caught my eye. A photo of three well dressed people all posed for a portrait. It took me a moment to realize it, but this was a photo of Rosa’s family!
On the left was a woman who looked almost identical to Rosa, just with slightly darker skin and longer hair. I immediately recognized her as Rosa’s mother, Mrs Margarita Ruiz. The dark curly hair, the deep brown eyes, and the wide nose made her look exactly like her daughter, if a few decades older. She wore a bright yellow dress that was covered in daisies, a gold necklace that matched her cross shaped earrings, and a bracelet on her right wrist that looked similar to the one Rosa wore.
On the right was a man I hadn’t seen before. Only slightly taller than the woman on the left, he had pale skin, gray slick back hair, and a full beard. I couldn’t exactly pinpoint Mrs Ruiz’s age in the photo due to her abundance of makeup. But judging by this man’s wrinkled face I assumed that he had to be in his fifties at least. His face was cold and stern, with only the semblance of a smile, and his eyes appeared as if they were staring me down. Unlike Rosa and her mother, the man’s eyes were pure gray, like a cloudy sky just before rain. He wore a black tuxedo, with a striped carnation pinned on the lapel. His gloved right hand rested on the left shoulder of the young girl standing in front of him.
I almost didn’t recognize her at first. Her hair was a bit shorter, and she was barely the height of her mother’s shoulders, but that was definitely Rosa. She wore a red floral dress, and a diamond necklace shaped like a cross. She looked to be about twelve years old in the photo, and unlike her parents, she wasn’t smiling. She tried to hide her emotions behind her expression, but anyone could tell she wasn’t happy at all in this picture.
Contrasting the family portrait, there was a different picture of a young Rosa where she was actually smiling. She was wearing the same dress and necklace. Her parents weren’t in this picture. Instead was a woman who looked to be in her early twenties. With her curly dark red hair, green eyes, pale skin, and glasses... she looked a lot like me! She wasn't identical; her hair was longer than mine and not as curly, her glasses were more rounded, and her freckles looked way cuter than mine. Around her neck she wore a golden chain necklace. Her outfit was probably the most interesting thing about her. It looked a lot like my maid outfit, but instead of the mess of ribbons and bows and fabric that never looked quite right on me, her outfit looked absolutely perfect. The dark purple dress and pale apron extended past her knees and elbows, and no longer looked like the overtly sexualized outfit I wore, but was instead a proper maid uniform. She smiled, one arm wrapped around Rosa’s shoulder, the other being held tight by the young girl's hands.
Strange. I thought Rosa was an only child.
“Wow, I didn’t think a dog like you knew how to read.”
Rosa’s voice made me jump. I quickly closed the album and placed it on the table in the center of the room.
“I’m sorry... Mistress. I was cleaning, but I got distracted.”
She was leaning on the doorway to the library. Her expression changed to pure rage as she saw the cover of the photo album.
“I thought I told you to make sure this room was spotless! What makes you think you’re allowed to look through my stuff?”
“I- I’m sorry, ma’am,” I stammered as she stepped closer. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
I dreaded another shock, preparing myself for the worst. Instead, she slapped my face leaving a red mark on my cheek.
She quickly snatched the album off the table, and turned to leave.
“I want this library to look absolutely pristine,” she said coldly, not even looking at me. She was staring at the cover of the book, her fingers tracing the edge of the leather spine.
My curiosity was running wild. I had to know…
“Uh... Mistress?”
She didn’t respond, or even look back at me. She just stopped in the doorway, waiting for me to ask my question. Immediately I regretted even speaking up. Judging by how Rosa almost never talked about her family, I doubted she wanted to be asked a bunch of personal questions right now, especially when I was supposed to be cleaning.
“The uh... the flowers on the table. I saw that you had a bunch of books on gardening… and I assume that you’d know better than me. Should I replace the water in the vase, so the flowers don’t die?” I gestured to the stripped carnations on the table in the middle of the room.
She still didn’t look back, simply casually flipping through the pages of the photo album. It was a few seconds before she spoke.
“No. Just leave them to die. When you’re done with this room, get started on dinner.”
Without another word from either of us, she left, not giving me so much as a glance in my direction. I rubbed my cheek, still red from her slap.
~~~~~~~
The sound of Rosa playing the piano in the main hall was audible even in the kitchen. It was a beautiful piece played in minor key, and the constant slow moving melody rising and falling reminded me of waves crashing on the shore. I’m sure I’ve heard this piece before, but I couldn’t remember the name of it. I was never a big fan of classical music. I mainly enjoyed listening to the music that was popular when I was growing up, the songs my friends wrote, and a few songs that my mother had taught me. Although without my phone, my life had been unbearably silent. So being able to hear Rosa play was lovely.
My attempt at making risotto was admittedly a bit pathetic. But I was honestly trying my best. Cooking was never my specialty. Hopefully she won't be too mad tonight.
“Dinner is ready, Mistress,” I informed her as she sat at the piano. She didn’t look up, and kept playing, barely acknowledging my existence.
I stood in the doorway to the main hall, listening to her play. Her hands danced across the keys so smoothly and elegantly. I was honestly impressed by how perfect she was.
“You’re staring,” she said, as she stopped suddenly. “It’s distracting.”
“Oh... I'm sorry, ma’am.”
She turned to look at me, her dark eyes staring directly into my soul. Then she sighed. I could tell how disappointed she was in me. My cheeks turned bright red.
“You’re going to clean while I eat,” she said, sternly. “And I’m going to watch you to make sure you do it right.”
All I could do was bow my head and give a pathetic “yes, Mistress”
At least she was finally paying attention to me.
I polished the large glass window overlooking the lake as the moon shone over the woods. Rosa sat alone at the dining room table, half watching the moonlight reflect off the waves, and half staring at my ass. I could see her reflection in the window, and stared longingly at it.
Suddenly she spoke.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Uh… what do you mean… ma’am?” I turned to look up at her.
“You’re fidgeting, you obviously have something you want to say. Spit it out.”
“Are- Are you sure?”
“When I tell you to do something, you do it. You don’t get to question me, slave.”
My face turned bright red again. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “So, uh... today when I was cleaning the library... and I saw the photo album... oh, again I’m really sorry about that. I-I-I didn’t mean to go through your things. I promise I won’t do it again”
“God, enough with the useless apologies! Just tell me already!”
“I- I'm sor-- I mean..." My brain short circuited for a moment, and I had to pause to recollect my thoughts. "I wanted to ask about... uh... there was a picture of you and another girl. She had dark red hair and glasses. I had never seen her before, and I was wondering… Who was she?”
Rosa sighed, and was silent for a moment. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at me or staring off into space.
“Her name is Iris. We grew up together.”
“Was she your sister?”
“In a way.”
We sat in silence for a few moments, and I was left to ponder what she meant by that. Honestly Rosa’s entire family seemed incredibly strange to me. Especially that gray haired man.
“There was a man in the tuxedo. Is he your father?”
Rosa groaned. “He’s not my father anymore.”
She took a large sip of her wine before slamming the glass on the table.
“Actually, why am I telling you any of this crap? Why don’t I pry into your life, huh? What’s the deal with your family?”
I stuttered. Rosa kept her secrets, and I had mine. I hated talking about my past as much as she did. In the few months that we dated, I tried to avoid talking about my childhood whenever she brought it up. But now I was about to be exposed in front of her. I guess this is what I deserve for asking too many questions.
“What’s your story, mutt? Ran away from home? Abusive father?”
“I uh... actually never knew my father,” I shivered as tears began to form. “And my mother died when I was young.”
Rosa just stared at me, urging me to continue.
“I moved in with my best friend, Violet, and her mom. Ms Veronica raised me like her own daughter. I guess... me and Violet were like sisters... in a way...”
“Is that your whole sob story? Or is there more?”
“I mean... me and Violet are still friends. Or, we were friends before...” I touched the gold collar on my throat. “But... I know she’d be worried about me, and wondering why I disappeared. She’s probably looking for me right n-”
Hot searing pain shot through my neck into my entire body. I fell to the floor, desperately grabbing at my collar.
“That kind of thinking is dangerous for slaves. You’ll never last if you constantly think about your old life. So let me give you some peace of mind.”
She stood from her chair, stepping closer until she towered over me.
“No one is looking for you. Everyone you know and love thinks that you’re dead. I can promise you that there is no escape, so you might as well turn that part of your brain off.”
Curled into a ball on the floor, trying in vain to look up at her, I felt absolutely pathetic.
Just to add insult to injury, she kicked me right in the chest.
I whimpered.
She laughed.
“God, you’re so pathetic.” She stepped back to look at me as I groaned and cried on the floor. “Make sure to clean this mess up. That's your last order for tonight”
She walked past me, and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Without looking at me, she spoke coldly.
“I'll see you in the morning, mutt.”
By the time I finished cleaning the window, doing the dishes, and making sure to wipe my tears from the floor, it was already past ten o'clock. I felt absolutely exhausted. But it was nice to be able to go to bed earlier than usual tonight.
I slowly made my way upstairs, past Rosa's office and bedroom, and eventually back to my own bedroom. As I shut the door behind me, I heard a click.
It was small, insignificant really, in comparison to the rest of my day. But that click of the door locking behind me sent me over the edge. The final reminder of the day that I wasn't a person anymore. I didn't even have the strength to be angry. I just felt empty inside. I collapsed on my bed and cried myself to sleep, knowing that I'd have to wake up tomorrow and do this all over again. And again. And again. Every day for the rest of my life. Because there was no escape. No freedom.
She was my owner.
And I was her slave.