His Slave (Short Story)

Chapter 10

They had made up, but Leyla was still wary of him, he hadn't told her what he had done with Lara. She walked into his office without knocking. She froze, once she looked up to see Lara and Michael in one room. Michael remained calm as he looked at her, pursing his lips. He had expected her to knock at least.

"You are never stepping foot here again. That's all I'm going to say to you." he stated coldly.

"But why Master, she doesn't even listen to you, disobeys you, disrespects you in front of everyone. I have never done that." she argued spitefully.

Leyla felt shame, shame that a child would feel getting told off by their parents in front of a guest. She knew she shouldn't, she wasn't asking for anything out of this world. She just wanted her will to choose.

"You disrespected me when you decided to sleep with my guards, you think i don't know? And now you claim to want me? You have been conspiring against Leyla which means you have been conspiring against me. I know every single thing you have done, but this time I'm not letting you off." he answered leaving no room for argument.

"That's not fair. I haven't touched anymore for 2 months." she cried.

"What a coincidence, it's almost the same amount of time that Leyla has been here."

"But she is just a slave!"

"Your position is no different. Leyla is not a slave anymore." he answered calmly.

Leyla's head snapped up her eyes looking at his face, looking for any sign which could say otherwise.

Lara stood up from the chair and stomped over to the door, Leyla was alert. She didn't trust her one bit. Lara stormed past her, yanking the door open angrily.

Michael watched both of them, crossing his arms. Lara drew her hand up, Leyla immediately realized this and grabbed her wrist squeezing it tightly, before punching her in the face.

Lara screamed, holding her face. "Stupid bitch." Leyla spat, shoving her out the door and slamming it shut.

MIchael strode over to her, lifting his hand up, making Leyla flinch. He frowned, cupping her cheek gently. She opened her eyes looking up at him hesitantly. He held her lightly bruised hand, pulling her to his table, settling her on the edge.

"I wouldn't hit you, Leyla. I know I've punished you before, but it's different to slapping someone on the face." he frowned, unsure of how to explain his ways of discipline.

"It's not like it's the first time she hit me, or tried." She shrugged.

"When I punished you before... Did she provoke you?" he asked, sounding hesitant to know the answer.

"She taunted me, or would trip me while I was holding something and the day you saw me hitting her back she pretended to be innocent, as if I had been bullying her from the start." she whispered finally telling him the truth of that day.

"I'm sorry, Leyla. You started being so stubborn that i thought you had started fighting arguing with other slaves." He apologized, guilty kissing her bruised knuckles.

"My problem was only with you. The only person I would fight is you." she answered softly.

He brushed the back of his fingers over her face, she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, sighing softly. "I'm glad you fought me." he stated, his lips curving into a small smile.

"I thought you would sell me, or give me away." she whispered fearfully. "I would never. You've argued your way into my life." he said softly.

He placed his hands on either side of her on the table, leaning down. She looked down at her lap, a soft blush working up her face. "Even after I've explored every inch of your body, you still manage to blush." he murmured, pressing his lips to her warm cheeks, smiling as the shade deepened.