2-25-2016 Fiction

An Animal

She stands there naked, in the middle of the room, slightly hunched to the right because the chains restraining that side of her body are much shorter than those for her left. She had been here, standing locked in this spot for three days. The only break in her posture now is her neck, slumping her head forward and towards the right. He looks her over. It isn't clear if she tore any muscles as her body tried to give way and relax. Concerned, he enters the room and shuts the heavy steel door behind him. Her head shoots up as it clanks shut.

"I see your muscles are holding up," he remarks casually. He wipes the dirty mess from her cheek; a smear of old tears and dirt that looks like make up in the dimly lit room. She tries to pull away from his hand. "Oh my dear, it appears you still haven't learned anything here."

He starts to walk away and she pleads with him, but the words are incoherent. He pauses a second before pulling the door open.

"Please," she sobs out and stops him in the doorway.

"I haven't eaten in days," she mumbles, "please?"

"And?" He asks with a tone suggesting just how little he cares.

"May I be unchained for just a moment?" She asks, "Just a moment."

He glances over at the door and then kicks it shut. She hasn't the strength in her to pull it inward to get out. He had designed this cell with careful thought. He gets up without a word and undoes her chains, and then walks in between her and the door.

She slowly, painfully, carefully lowers herself to the floor. Kneeling before him with her head bowed, "What can I do to earn food and water?"

"Ah, perhaps I was too hasty earlier," he smirked, "wait here." He walks over and takes a single chain and locks it to the chain around her neck. "This will be more comfortable, won't it pet?"

"Yes Sir," she says lifting her head and smiling for the first time since he locked her in the Bad Room.

"After you are fed and rested, I think you may rejoin the house," he smiles.

"Thank you, Sir," she replies and tries to rise. He goes over and helps her up, leaning her against the cold wall. "Thank you again, Sir."

He returns with two silver dishes staked upon each other. Grunting, he pushes the door open and sets the dishes down, bumps the door with his hip and then follows up with a kick when it doesn't shut all the way. He takes the top dish and sets it to the right of the other dish. She can see one has food of some sort and the other water.

"On your knees, crawl over here," he orders. She remains standing, a look of disgust on her face; defiance. His face stiffens as he watches her. "You are hungry, aren't you, pet?"

She goes to her knees, still looking up at him with resentment, and crawls clumsily over to the dog dishes. The food smells so good and the heat rising up from the dish feels so good to her face. She seems to forget that she is a lady and begins to eat with the gusto of an animal. He smiles.

"Good girl," he murmurs as she enjoys her first meal in three days,"I may just make you useful yet."