Tethered Pt. 03

The group finished with their current project and took a break. She watched as her master sat down on a stump and took a handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe his brow. She watched Cassandra sit down next to him. She watched as they took up a conversation.

Her nostrils flared. They were always talking. Of the seven nights they'd been in Haven, her master had spent a portion of each with the woman, up in the barn loft where she resided. They took a number of meals together, heads joined, deep in conversation. Cassandra always found a reason to touch him. She exhaled a long hot breath. She wondered if they'd fucked. Though she had no right to voice any complaint, the thought sickened her. She was certain he'd taken no lovers besides her in the time she'd been his property, outside of a bevy of threesomes, even a handful of four and fivesomes. If he had now, why?

Besides her jealous annoyance at the woman's blatant flirtations, another thing galled her to no end. Despite the fact that she was permitted to speak openly with any of the Haven villagers, and did so happily, Cassandra hadn't in a week's time addressed her once. She hadn't graced her with a single word. The woman behaved as if she weren't a thing that took up any space in her world. Next to the easy acceptance of the rest of the villagers, it felt like an insult. Even if she did run this place, who did that uppity bitch think she was?

More importantly, what did her master see in the woman? What was Cassandra doing for him that she could not?

20

"I'll be joining Cassie for dinner tonight. Go and get yourself some food from the Hall. Do not dally. Return as soon as you've finished."

When had he started calling that woman Cassie?

Her master sat in the armchair, a book open in his hands. The sun had already set, so he read by candle light. He didn't look up as he spoke.

She felt a pang in her chest. "Yes, Master."

Her heart was heavy as she made her way from their cabin. Her feet were heavy as she strode across the grounds to the Hall. Her thoughts were heavier still as she sat alone and picked at her meal of stew and potatoes. For what must've been the thousandth time, she tried to convince herself not to make too much of this. She'd never had any doubts about his love for her. Why should she now? He was under no obligations to her. Just because he'd never taken another woman didn't mean he wasn't allowed. Still...

The weight didn't lift when she dumped her dishes, or when she walked back across the empty grounds, or when she turned the knob to enter their cabin. However, it flew from her when she opened the door and saw what was laid out on the bed.

"Put it on," her master said.

Only her training kept her from standing where she was and imploring him with her eyes. She crossed to the bed, reached down, and took the lovely, vibrant white dress in her hands. For only a brief moment, she clutched it to her chest. It wasn't the most elegant thing she'd seen in her life, but it was the most elegant she'd seen in this life.

She slipped out of her ragged attire and worked her way into the new garment. The cotton was smooth against her skin. The sharp, clean smell of lye and lavender greeted her nose. The frilled hem grazed her knees. She couldn't stop her hands from roaming every inch of the fabric. When was the last time she'd worn something as wonderful as this?

Her master came up behind her. She sighed and waited for his arms to engulf her. They didn't, but she felt his breath on her neck and that was almost as good. He tugged at her ponytail. "Take your hair down."

"Yes, Master," she said. The heat of his breath raised goose bumps on her flesh, and she wanted to linger, but she hurried to the vanity and did as she was bid.

"Let me look at you," he said when she'd returned to him. "Turn. Very nice. Again. Lovely." Her eyes were downcast, but she felt the potency of his long stare assessing her. "Come."

Yes, she very much wanted to already, but she knew that wasn't what he meant. He opened the door, and she followed.

The night was brisk and clear. A light breeze rustled through the trees. The chill couldn't penetrate her. She walked behind him, keeping his pace as they passed the Hall, then the sheep pen, and finally came to the barn's large sliding door. He stopped, turned. He took her by the chin and raised her face to him. The full moon illuminated the stern look on his face.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked.

"I belong to you, Master."

"I could give you instructions, but I do not need to, do I? As my property, you know what's required of you."

"I do, Master."

His eyes stayed on her a long time. Her heartbeat grew faster, not fast, but noticeably quicker than it had been moments before. He released his grip on her chin, then slid the barn door open.

The barn smelled of musty earth and straw. The horses neighed at them and shifted in their stalls. They made their way to a wooden staircase that led to an enclosed loft with a pretty red door. They ascended, and her master knocked.

"It's open," Cassandra called from inside. The woman wore a black dress that flowed to her ankles. Sleeves covered her upper arms. Her dark mane was done up, tasseled atop her head. Black pearls around her neck completed the look. The woman looked her master up and down, but didn't acknowledge her.

"I hope I'm not too early," her master said.

"I don't usually like a man who's premature." She flashed him a salacious smirk.

Her master frowned. "You can do better than that."

Cassandra shrugged. "I've been building fence all day." She waved her hand at a lavishly decorated table. Well, lavish by current standards. The table for two was dressed in a clean white cloth with a polished silver candelabra in the middle, a pair of silver bowls containing today's stew, and a bowl containing the most delicious-looking red apples. "Please, sit. I'm famished."

She glared at the two place settings. Two. In Haven, they behaved as they did in any village when they were around others. Outwardly, they were a couple, not master and slave. Why was this different around Cassandra? But she knew the answer, didn't she? She'd known almost immediately. The woman had ignored her from the start, didn't speak to her, treated her as a lesser. She didn't know why this realization made her so angry.

"After you," her master said with a bow. He was being so formal. Her mind went briefly to the parties they used to frequent.

Cassandra sat, pulled her chair up close to the table. Her master did the same. Boiling, but knowing her place, she sat at his feet, tucked her legs demurely beneath her, and rested her head on his thigh. She was glad to see the floor had been recently swept; she didn't want her new dress getting soiled.

"How are you liking it here?" Cassandra asked. Her spoon clinked against her bowl.

"It isn't up to my usual standards, but it's not without its charms."

"Is it the deer stew? It's a bit gamy, I'll admit. I'm sure you'll much prefer the caviar Lawrence will be serving tomorrow."

"The food is delicious."

"The bed then?" Cassandra asked. "I explicitly told the maids to stuff yours with fresh feathers. If you're telling me they didn't, I'll have to reprimand them."

"I'm sure you would hate that."

"With all my being."

"The bed was heavenly," her master said. "However, there was no mint on my pillow."

Cassandra beat her fist on the table. "The lazy wretches. Well, just goes to show, you can't buy good help these days."

Her master laughed. It was a soft, throaty, warm sound. It was a symphony to her ears. It made her want to cry. When was the last time she'd heard him laugh? She couldn't begin to recall. He used to laugh often. Particularly dirty jokes were a favorite. She used to regale him with any new one she heard. For as serious as he'd always been, she'd taken great pride in being able to make him laugh easily. But she hadn't heard that sweet sound in such a long time, and its resurrection had not been of her doing.

The pair continued with their flirty banter. She tried to block it out as best she could. She tried not to dwell on how effortless their conversation flowed. She tried not to imagine the glances they were casting each other's way. She tried not to think about how attractive Cassandra was, how healthy her body was, unmarred by years of grueling travel.

"Do you think you'll stay a while?" Cassandra asked. She perked at the question. "You're well-liked here, and we could always use the extra help."

She held her breath awaiting his answer. She'd dared not voice it, even though the precise question had been on her mind for days. Life here was so much better, easier than anything they'd experienced for such a long time. Having a warm, dry place to lay her head every night was more than she could've begun to hope for.

Her master coughed politely into his fist. "We'll have to be moving on soon," he said, a slight wheeze to his voice.

Her heart fell. Before, she'd thought she understood their traveling, their need to keep moving. She thought they'd been searching for something. Hadn't they found it in this place? What more could there be?

"Pity," Cassandra said. "We've made a real home here. It's safe, self-sufficient. It could be yours too. Plus, the road is no place for such a pretty pet as yours."

Her master patted her head. She barely registered it. "Pretty, yes, very much so. But pretty does not equate to weak, as you should well know."

"She does look to have a toughness about her."

"More than you might imagine."

"Is that so?" Cassandra's voice took on a prurient tone.

"You doubt it?"

"I don't know you that well. How am I to know if you're a good judge of toughness?"

"Fair," her master said. "Care to find out for yourself?"

On the floor, she flinched. No. What the absolute fuck? No. Not a chance. This wasn't happening. She abhorred this haughty bitch. Her master could fuck this woman all he damn well pleased, but she wasn't touching her. She stared at his thigh, suddenly dying to sink her teeth into it.

"Thought you'd never ask." With that, Cassandra snapped her fingers. "Come here, little pet."

Her master patted her head again. "Go," he said.

She flexed her jaw and ground her teeth. A word simmered on her tongue. It was the same as the color tinting her vision. Why? Why was he doing this to her? Anyone but this woman. Since she'd come into her presence, Cassandra had made her feel like nothing, a thing of zero consequence. Not even her cruel master had managed that feat. Never in their time together had she denied him anything, but this was too much.

I will address Him only as Master.

I will have no name.

I belong to Him - mind, body, and soul.

He will use me in any manner He desires to fulfill His pleasure.

Blinking away a tear, she kissed his thigh. She prayed that small act conveyed the vastness of her submission.