Continued from Chapter 04: Nat has to make a decision.
Suddenly, I am jolted awake by the sound of my phone vibrating. I reach over to my bedside table and look at the time.
It's still dark outside, but the alarm clock reads 6:00 AM. My heart races as I try to remember where I am. The events of the past few days flood back into my mind, and I realize with a start that I am back in my apartment.
I sit up in bed, feeling disoriented and confused. My body aches from the intense experiences of the past few days, and I can't help but wonder what happened to me. As I rub my eyes and try to wake up properly, I turn on the lamp on the bedside table and I notice the sharpie mark on my thigh from the phone number Master, I mean, my captor wrote down.
I look back at my phone and see that it's Thursday. Shit. Somehow I've missed a day. I have an hour before the store opens.
I jump out of bed and start getting ready for work. The events of the past few days feel like a distant memory, and I struggle to process what happened to me.
I shiver at the thought of him, feeling a mix of fear and arousal wash over me. I try to focus on getting ready for work, but my mind keeps wandering back to him and the phone number on my thigh.
As I step out of my apartment, the city streets are still quiet, and the early morning sun casts long shadows across the pavement.
I make my way to the store, my mind filled with thoughts of my mysterious captor. The more I try to push him out of my mind, the more he seems to take over. By the time I reach the store, I'm feeling flustered and disoriented. I unlock the door and flip on the lights, immediately regretting being here.
The brightness of the store hurts my eyes. I take a deep breath and try to focus on getting ready for the day.
I sigh and begin to restock some of the empty items on the shelves, trying to focus on the task at hand. Eventually, Lexi walks in the door, a half hour late spouting some nonsense about her car and its trouble. I'm only half listening to her as my mind keeps wandering back to my mysterious captor and the events of the past few days. I only catch the last part, "...and it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't gone up and disappeared on me."
The story of Lexi and her disappearing boyfriend is one of her favorite topics even though it happened over three years ago. Apparently, the guy up and left her skinny Latina ass after he came into some money. I always give her a sympathetic look as she tells the story. But knowing Lexi like I do, I can't really feel sorry for her. "Dude really dodged a bullet there." I always think silently to myself.
Lexi and her smoking hot body attracts a lot of attention in our small town and has had her fair share of love interests. Even I can't help but look when she comes in with some tight-fitting outfit. But once you get to know her, that ship sails as they say. Some passing homophobic comments also let me know that she would have zero interest in me anyway.
All through the day, I can't focus on work. My hands move on autopilot as I run the register and answer customer questions, but my thoughts are elsewhere. I keep wondering what happened to me, why he did what he did, and whether I'll ever see him again.
As the day drags on, I start to feel anxious and restless. My thoughts keep drifting back to the mysterious captor, as a distraction I find myself watching Tanner's backside as he stocks shelves, unable to even focus on that.
Finally, it's time to go and I drive back to my apartment. When I arrive my landlady is out watering her flowers.
She waves me over and says in her think Russian accent, "How was your trip? Did you have a good time?"
"My trip?" I ask. "Yes, the trip you talked about in your letter. You said you won some money in a contest and were going on a short trip. You even said you won so much you paid in advance for the next three months."
I'm taken aback by her words, my mind racing to recall any contest I might have won. But I'm certain I didn't win anything, and I definitely didn't write a letter to my landlady about it. I feel a sense of unease creeping over me as I ask, "Can I see the letter?"
My landlady's expression changes from friendly to puzzled, and she says, "Oh, dear, I must have misplaced it. But I'm sure it's around here somewhere." She puts down the watering can and walks over to the small table on the porch, where she keeps a stack of mail and newspapers.
She hands me the letter. The handwriting is not mine, but I wouldn't have expected her to know that.
I fold the letter and hand it back to my landlady, trying to process the implications of what I'm seeing. "Did you see anything odd while I was gone?" I ask, my eyes scanning the surrounding area as if searching for clues.
My landlady thinks for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Well, I did notice that your car was here the whole time," she says, "but I assumed someone must have picked you up. I didn't think much of it, since you said you'd be away for a few days."
My landlady's expression changes to one of confusion, and she looks at me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Is something wrong? You don't have to give me an advance on the rent. I don't need it."
I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "No, really, it's fine. Everything is fine. Keep it," I repeat, my voice firm but polite. My landlady looks at me skeptically, but she doesn't press the issue further.
"Alright, dear. If you're sure..."
"It's fine. I just had a rough day at work. Maybe I'm just a little stressed out," I say, trying to brush off my landlady's concerns. I force a weak smile onto my face, hoping to reassure her that everything is okay.
My landlady looks at me skeptically, her eyes narrowing slightly as she searches for any signs of trouble. After a moment, she seems to accept my explanation and nods sympathetically. "Well, if you're sure you're alright, dear. I'll just get back to watering my flowers."
I turn to head back up to my apartment, my mind still reeling from the conversation with my landlady. As I climb the stairs, I can feel a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach. I reach the top of the stairs and walk down the balcony to my apartment door. I insert my key into the lock and turn it, hearing the satisfying click of the mechanism disengaging. I push the door open and step inside, my eyes scanning the familiar space.
The apartment is quiet and still, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. I close the door behind me and take a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.
My eyes drift towards the computer in the corner of the room, its sleek surface reflecting the faint glow of the evening light that filters through the window. It looks undisturbed, just as I left it before...before everything.
As I stand in the silence of my apartment, my mind begins to wander back to the events that transpired while I was away. The memory of my master's touch still lingers on my skin, and I can almost smell the scent of his cologne. How did he do it? How did he manage to get me and my stuff in and out of my apartment? Especially escaping the notice of my landlady. She catches everything. She once pulled a gun on the cops before because she thought someone was snooping around the building.
My eyes drift towards the window, and I walk over to it, pulling back the curtain to gaze out at the street below.
I turn my attention back to the computer, my fingers instinctively reaching for the power button. The machine whirs to life, the screen flickering as it boots up. I watch, my heart beating slightly faster, as the login screen appears. I enter my password, and the desktop loads, looking exactly as I left it. Everything seems normal, just as it was before...before everything. I feel a sense of relief wash over me, followed by a growing sense of unease. Where is the private server? Where are the messages from my master? I scroll through my email, but there's nothing out of the ordinary. No messages from unknown senders, no cryptic notes.
Over the next couple of days, I try to get back to life as normal. A few times I think about going to the police. See if they can trace the slowly fading number written on my thigh. But I think to myself, surely he wouldn't give out his real number. More than likely, it's a relay for text messages are something. No. If he was clever enough to do all of that, he would be clever enough to cover his tracks. Plus deep down I wasn't sure if I wanted to close that door.
On Monday night, I strip off all of my clothes and get into bed. I chuckle to myself that this is something I would have never done prior to this week. It was always at least a shirt and panties, now I find myself sleeping naked every night. After I drift off to sleep, I have a dream about him. In my dream, I see him standing in front of me, his eyes piercing through the darkness. He's smiling, his lips curled up in a sly grin. I begin to cry, he holds me in his arms and says, "Don't worry, toy. I'll take care of you. You're safe with me."
I wake with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. I glance around the room, disoriented and confused. I look at the clock on my nightstand and see that it's still early, the sun not yet risen. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
I throw off the covers and swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet dangling in the air as I sit up. The room is still dimly lit, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning vent above my bed. I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fogginess of sleep. My mind is already racing, thoughts of the past few days swirling together in a jumbled mess. I think about going into the store, but my stomach turns at the thought. I just can't stomach it.
I glance around the room, my eyes landing on my phone on the nightstand. I pick up the phone, my fingers wrapping around it like a lifeline. My heart is racing, and my mind is a jumble of emotions. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I'm making a mistake. But something inside me compels me to send the text. I open the messaging app and find the number scrawled on my thigh. I type out two words: "I'm ready." My thumb hovers over the send button, and for a moment, I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into the unknown. I take a deep breath and press send.
I lay back in bed, my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for a response. I stare at the ceiling, my mind racing with anticipation. My phone remains silent for what feels like an eternity, but in reality, it's only been a few minutes. I begin to wonder if I made a mistake, if I've somehow misunderstood his intentions.
But just as I'm starting to lose hope, I hear a ding. I sit up, my heart racing as I grab my phone from the nightstand. I see a new message from the same number.
My eyes scan the message, my heart skipping a beat as I read the words. "Good girl. Six days? I figured I'd hear from you sooner."
I look back at the phone, my fingers instinctively reaching for the keyboard. I hesitate for a moment, wondering how to respond. But before I can type out a reply, another message appears on the screen.
My eyes lock onto the screen, the words "Are you sure this is what you want?" staring back at me like a challenge. I hesitate for a moment, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard as I consider my response.
The room around me seems to fade away, leaving only the glow of the screen and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I think back to the past few days, to the way I felt when I was with my master. I remember the way my heart raced when I first heard his voice, the way my body responded to his touch. I remember the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world. I remember the way he made me feel, like I was his, and his alone.
I type out my response, my fingers moving quickly over the keyboard. "Definitely," my heart pounding in my chest as I hit send.
My eyes lock onto the screen, waiting for a response. The seconds tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms growing sweaty as I grip my phone tightly. And then, suddenly, a new message appears on the screen.
"Excellent," the response reads. "I suspect you will want to let your boss know you quit. I assume we can forgo the standard two weeks notice."
I take a deep breath, my heart still racing as I put down my phone. I run to the computer and log into my email, typing out a quick resignation letter. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I'm making a mistake, but then I hit send. I can't believe what I've just done, but at the same time, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
"It's done. I sent an email. I can't even think about going in the store," I message back.
I set my phone back down on the nightstand, my heart still racing in my chest. I have done it. I have taken the plunge, made the decision, and sent the text. I waited for a moment, my mind racing with anticipation.
My phone buzzes again, and I pick it up, my heart still racing from the previous exchange. I see a new message from Master, and my eyes scan the screen eagerly. "Good girl," the message reads. I feel a surge of pride and satisfaction at the praise, and my cheeks flush slightly.
I wait for a moment, wondering what will come next. And then, another message appears on the screen. "Get a box, find everything you want for your room. Label it: 'Toy's Box'. No clothes."
I chuckle at his humor, a smile spreading across my face as I read the message. The phrase "Toy's Box" is his clever play on words, and I can almost hear the amusement in his voice as he typed it out. I feel a flutter in my chest as I realize that I'm already anticipating his next message, already eager to please him.
His message continues. "I'll take care of everything else. The rest can go into storage."
I feel a sense of relief wash over me as I read the message. The thought of sorting through all my belongings, deciding what to keep and what to discard, had been daunting. But with Master's reassurance that he would take care of everything else, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders.
I set my phone down on the nightstand, padding softly over to my closet. I open the door and peer inside, scanning the shelves and racks for anything that I want to keep. My eyes land on a few knick-nacks, a framed photo of my family, and a small music box that my grandmother gave me. I assume he will take care of my computer as before.
I pick up the items one by one, holding them close to my chest as I try to decide what to do with them.
I hear the sound of my phone again. Master instructs me to tell my landlady I met someone on the trip and that I'll be moving away and that movers would be coming along in the next several weeks to move my stuff out. He will come pick me up first thing in the morning.
I take a deep breath and head downstairs to tell my landlady the news. As I walk down the stairs, my heart is pounding in my chest. I don't know how she'll react, but I have to be honest with her.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I knock on her door. There's a moment of silence before she calls out for me to come in. I open the door and step inside, taking a seat on the couch across from her.
"Hi, um, I have some news," I say, clearing my throat. "I met someone on my trip, and we're moving in together."
She raises an eyebrow, clearly suspicious. "That's very sudden," she says.
"I know, but it just happened," I reply, trying to sound convincing. "We hit it off really well, and we both feel like we've found what we've been looking for."
She nods slowly, still looking skeptical. "I see," she says. "Well, if you're sure that's what you want, I guess there's not much I can do about it."
I take a deep breath and try to smile reassuringly. "I am sure," I say. "And about the rent, please keep it."
I tell her about the movers.
She studies me for a moment, then nods. "Alright," she says. "You'll come visit when your back in town, right?"
I nod, "Of course." Though technically not a lie, part of me wonders if I'll ever be "back in town".
As I walk out of the door she stops me and gives me a hug. "I'm glad you found someone, dear," she says with a smile on her face.
I go back up to my apartment. The rest of the day was sorting through my things and fielding emails from my former boss about whether I was making the right choice.
I crawl into bed, naked as usual. I lay there for a while, my mind wanders, I start to remember the vibrator attached to my clitoris, the nipple clamps, and the way my master looked at me. Eventually, though, I fall asleep.
Suddenly, I'm jolted awake by a blinding light. I'm laying on a padded table in the center of a room, my head spinning. The footsteps grow louder, and suddenly, the door swings open.