Sir’s dark eyes looked me up and down as if I was nothing more than a bug that was trying to crawl on his shoe.
“Still as scrawny as ever.”
Well, maybe if he’d feed me more, I’d actually gain a bit of weight, I thought. I just barely stopped the huff of annoyance from escaping my lips.
“But, I suppose, you’ll have to do.”
He acted like there was no other choice. It wasn’t my fault I was here to begin with. He could just let me go, get rid of me.
“Here. Put these on.”
A pile of colorful clothes was tossed at me. My reaction was too slow, causing them to fall at my feet instead of being caught against my chest.
“Pathetic.”
Bending down to shuffle through the items, I wasn’t sure what to think, or even how to react. Other than knowing I had no option but to put on the clothes, I knew it wasn’t right.
A black shirt, with one side that fell off a shoulder once it was on. The sleeves went past my wrists, easily hiding the marks that seemed to never disappear. Scars, most likely. But I hoped they’d fade in time. With the shirt, there was a long skirt that faded from dark purple to light pink towards the bottom. The hem brushed against the floor, hiding my feet.
“That, too,” Sir pointed towards the smallest bit of fabric that still lay on the floor. Something I wasn’t sure how to wear, or even knew why. The silky material left nothing to the imagination, which was for sure. “Underwear, slut.”
Picking it up, I eyed the black piece of whatever it was. I certainly didn’t think it was anything close to underwear. But still, I slipped it up my legs, letting the thinnest part of it go up my crack, giving me a non-ending wedgie while the front barely covered my privates.
“When I tell you to get pretty, this is what I want. Every time. A slut like you needs to be pretty for me to show off.”
I nodded one.
I wasn’t a slut. Yet he kept calling me that. I wasn’t sure why he thought I was one. I didn’t try to lead him on. I didn’t tease him. And I sure didn’t like his attention.
“Now,” he paused, unfolding his arms and clapping his hands, which echoed around the room. “Upstairs. In the sunroom.”
Knowing better than to ask anything about his reasons, I quickly walked past the man. His smokey aftershave was strong, almost causing me to gag. I knew he smoked, but I never could quite get used to the stench of it. I kept my body towards the wall, keeping as much space between us as possible. I didn’t want to touch his beer gut of a belly, hating how squishy and flappy it felt.
Walking as fast as I dared, feeling the material of the skirt tangle between my legs and against my skin, I went up the few steps that led toward thekitchen. Sir was right behind me, a hand right near my butt as if he couldn’t help himself.
I hated his touch. I hated his games. And most of all, I hated everything to do with him.
I just wanted my mom to come back. I missed the days of hiding in my room when strange men came over and there was a lot of laughter and yelling. I missed having a spot where I could at least be safe.
I wasn’t safe here at all. There was no place that I could get away from this man. He had cameras in my room downstairs, watching my every move. I’d seen them, and the proof of them one time when I thought I could not do something he ordered me to do.
Once upstairs, I stopped at the doorway of the sunroom, knowing not to dare touch the door knob. I held my breath as Sir reached around me, pressing his fat belly into my back, as he opened the door. A waft of musty air hit me as I stepped down the one stair into the slightly warmer room.
The sun warmed the area, where in the spring and fall, it was the perfect temperature. But the summer and winter were either too hot or too cold to enjoy the warmth. Today, with the leaves just starting to bloom on the trees, was warm enough to not make me shiver.
“I want pictures.”
Not again,I thought, dread filling me.
“You know the drill.”
I sighed.
At least, I assumed, this time I’d get to keep my clothes on. Since he wanted me to bepretty.
Sir had me pose against the window, in the one wicker chair, and a few other places as he snapped pictures of me in all sorts of positions. A few were up close to my face, some of the other parts of my body.
Shame filled me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it.
