Awe of Predators Ch. 01

"Of course," Elizabeth responds coolly, her gaze never wavering from Lene. "Fiona is a skilled and obedient servant, trained to cater to your every whim. You will find no fault in her."

"Then let us toast to our newfound friendship," Lene suggests, raising her glass in a mock salute. The words ring hollow, but that's how the game is played, and these women are all players... and I'm not.

I'm just a pawn. Chattel. Clay. I'm Elizabeth's dog.

"Indeed," Elizabeth agrees, lifting her own glass in response. "To cooperation and mutual benefit."

Lene regards her thoughtfully for a moment, then smiles -- a slow, dangerous curve of her lips that promises both pleasure and pain in equal measure. "Mutual benefit indeed, my dear Elizabeth. Rest assured, I will make good use of your precious little slave."

"See that you do," Elizabeth replies, and for just the tiniest moment, the mask slips. That's entirely intentional, I'm sure. Mistress wants to make it known that her granting a concession does not mean she's being cut down to size -- that this is just a conditional exchange of favours.

Somehow, that fails to comfort me.

It hardens Lene's attitudes, though. She dislikes the reminder that Mistress still has teeth. "Of course. For now, please do enjoy the festivities."

Mistress nods and turns towards me. She takes me in with one sweeping glance -- the way I'm barely able to stand, on the verge of panic, breathing faster and faster -- and gives one firm tug of the leash. She smiles, as she draws close to me, slow and predatory. "See that you remember," she says. "You will always be mine, Fiona, no matter who's standing over you as you kneel. Your place is with Maggie, and beneath me."

And just like that, she is gone, Margaret throwing forlorn glances at me as she dutifully follows Mistress through the crowd. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the noise, the emotional and sensory overload, to cling on to Mistress' words...

This is how far I've fallen. I find slavery reassuring. I'm pathetically grateful for her reminder that she'll get me back... that I will return to Maggie and her.

Return home.

Funny. I never thought of our household as home until the moment I lost it.

I reopen my eyes at the startling touch of fingers against my throat, sneaking in between the skin and the collar that wraps around it.

"Enjoying the evening, Fiona?" Lene purrs from behind me, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she sidles up to me. She circles me slowly, studying me from every angle, her hands never leaving my collar.

Then, she comes to a full stop in front of me. Her eyes bore into mine, twin pools of cold blue fire that send shivers down my spine.

"Y-yes, Mistress Lene," I stammer, dropping my gaze to the ground in an attempt to evade her stare. This woman wants to dominate me, but it's not really me that the weight of her attention is focused on. It's Mistress she's thinking of, and those behind her eyes are not gentle thoughts.

I'm... scared.

"Good, good," Lene murmurs, and I can feel her fingers tighten over my collar. "You should relish the opportunity of serving in a more... established household. Perhaps you'll find that a very teachable experience."

"Thank you, Mistress," I reply, my voice barely audible. My fear is so thick that I feel like the women in this room could smell it, if they wanted to. I'm just harmless prey, surrounded by predators, and what's worse...

For the first time, truly the first time since I first stepped through the gates of Ragnaring, I am alone.

My hand searches for Margaret's again, and finds only empty air.