~HEARTS & FANGS~

10: TESTING HER HYPOTHESIS💭

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...10...

TESTING HER HYPOTHESIS💭

She became a true prisoner to him after that night, void of liberty, shackled to that terrifying and yet unapalling beast. She was confined to his bedroom, incarcerated at all times, for a long time, day and night. He watched over her like a hungry hawk did with its prey. He made sure she was fed, unfailingly, five times in a day -breakfast, lunch, nosh, dinner and after supper snacks which normally came about an hour after dinner. He was always there to eat with her most of the time in the bedroom, only being absent when he was busy with official matters and could not avoid doing so.

Well, there was a small problem which she noticed and even pointed out to him. But it was one which he never rectified, deliberately choosing not to do so. It was the issue regarding her clothes. She had no clothes to wear in his bedroom. He kept insisting that she put on any of his shirts.

Therefore, she was constantly dressed in one of his shirts and she was fairly getting used to its comfiness and his scent, that lovable musky yet intoxicating coco lemon redolence that unfailingly reminded her of the very first orgasm that he had brought her. He barely spoke to her when he was around, busy. But as time went on, he loosened, only speaking to her when he could no longer avoid it. She also didn't ever feel conscious of that fact that they slept on the same bed, shared that sacred furniture. She wondered if it contributed to his distance for he slept hours after she had gone to bed and yet he rose before her still.

Although she was unhappy that her escape plan had failed and she would not be able to leave there, the beast's territory, she never planned to organize a new one, a seventh one, either. She never dwelt on that, locking all things escape at the back of her skull, in her mind's archive, her brain's dungeon. It was totally hopeless to do so she decided, for he somehow managed to always find her, each time.

Besides, she didn't want him mad at her. She hated when he lost it for his outrage frightened her to the bones. She would rather continue to stay there a prisoner than to face his unfathomable wrath. If she dared to escape again, she was very sure, certes sure that she would definitely be caught and she will never be able to make a lam for it. She would rather remain a prisoner there forever than to face the rowen of such a hopeless thoughtless act, ever.

She counted the days that she had been in confinement, from the morrow she had woken up with a smarting pain in her ass, sharp and acute, a pain so critical it had brought lots of tears to her eyes. Her mind went back to that moment. She ran over it all, all that had happened after she had awoken. She remembered it all, clearly.

When she had arisen, she had winced in pain, not daring to sit upright on the bed despite its softness. Suddenly, like a witch, his face was looming over hers. She stared up at his standing form, startled by him and the bareness of his chest as always. Fear had overtaken her at that moment and she didn't know when she uttered what she said next.

'Please,' she had heard herself say then, a reflex action of protection which had been prompted by the fright that he had imprinted on her the night before.

'Keep shut!' he had shunned her harshly, his words curt and detached as he had reached out and turned her over. He had raised the white shirt that she had been wearing and had quickly made to inspect her bare buttocks. He had done so, running his fingers over it slightly, applying pressure at some point as he had stared at every mark that he had branded on her beautiful skin. She had winced occasionally as he had carried on, especially when the poking had hurt her too much. She had borne it all.