• Fiction

    Part 8: “The Disappearance of Emily Bennett”

    Part 7 Surprisingly, as I’d been naked most of the day, I was suddenly very aware of my body. The weight of my breasts shifted toward my armpits, and I felt his breath waft lightly across my lower belly. “Offer yourself,” He commanded. Somehow, my body knew He expected my legs to splay, my cunt open and pulsing slowly in response to his visual inspection. I also knew to keep my hands at my side, resisting the urge to cover myself in any way. “Hmmm…” I didn’t know if the verbalization showed curiosity, satisfaction, or disapproval, but I did nothing in response. Cool metal traced the crease on the outside…

  • Fiction

    Part 7: “The Disappearance of Emily Bennett”

    Part 6 He pulled out the chair beside me, sat down, and placed His napkin on His lap. A servant entered, asked a few quiet questions, left, and returned, but, at no time, even once He began to eat, did He appear to notice me…not even a sideways glance. I considered speaking, but held my tongue. My silence was likely expected. As the feeling left my feet in a rising crescendo of tingles, the position I held was becoming painful. I tried to move my feet imperceptibly, subtly lifting off of my heels just enough to give them relief. I’d never thought kneeling would be so difficult, but at least…

  • Fiction

    Part 6: “The Disappearance of Emily Bennett”

    Part 5 There was a light knock at the door. “Miss?” “Yes?” I sat up in the bath, instinctively covering my breasts as the young woman walked in. Apparently, she was to be my shadow, popping round whenever and wherever. “Master says I am to cut your hair before dinner.” She held a tray with shining stainless steel scissors and a silver comb. “He says it’s part of the letting go.” It made sense, I supposed, but I hadn’t been expecting it. I wasn’t sure how I felt about shearing my long tresses, but… The young woman set the tray on the bathroom counter, and as I slipped out of the…

  • Fiction

    Part 5: “The Disappearance of Emily Bennett”

    Part 4 The large room was a brilliant white. The walls, the furniture, the bedspread. Everything pure as the driven snow. Except me. As much as I’d wanted to leave everything behind, there was no leaving what was inside of me. All the memories and experiences and insecurites and worries. All those things were right under my skin waiting to erupt and fuck this whole thing up. But, he’d promised he could make those things matter less. Maybe even not matter at all. He promised to help me forget. Said he was a master at what he called “disappearance.” That he could make the person I was give way like…

  • Fiction

    Part 4: “The Disappearance of Emily Bennett”

    Part 3 The two young women, one holding my hand, led me up the porch stairs and into the house. The foyer was beautifully tiled, mosaic style, so much to look at that I almost forgot my naked state. In the middle of the floor, a kneeling stool, covered in pale pink velvet, sat expectantly and obviously awaiting my arrival. “Here, Miss,” the woman knodded toward the stool, “The Master will expect you to wait for him here.” Lowering myself, I felt my knees meet the cushion, knowing that this was the deciding point…the moment I would decide whether to become his…the moment he would accept or deny me solace. The…

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