Slaved to a Devil [lesbian] novel Chapter 11

Elise

I woke up encapsulated in heat, my hands tightly wound in fabric and my face pressed into hard, warm and surprisingly soft skin?

My eyes shot open confused for a moment of where I was and how I had gotten here, until I saw Miss Davids’ eyes watching me curiously. Why would she be curious?

Oh right, I’m still pressed against her. I roll out of her grip and to the other side of the mattress where I sit up.

“You had a nightmare,” she says to me sounding concerned. Why is she being like this again? Why can’t she just be annoyed all the time, she’s easier to understand and blame then.

“I don’t remember it, so it could have been that bad,” I state bluntly.

“You screamed and cried Elise,” she said sitting up so she’s at my level. “I doubt it was pleasant.”

“Maybe it was about you, ever think about that?” I snap, but instantly regret it thinking back to yesterday how I had gotten her angry.

But instead of getting angry and deciding to take it out on me, she just simply nods, her facial expression unchanging and rolls from the bed.

“Did you want to have breakfast with me in the dining room or did you want to have it alone here?”

Wait, did she just give me a choice in something? She’s never done this before, is she sick, dying maybe?

“If you don’t close your mouth you might catch flies,” she jokes in an unamused, indifferent manner, bringing me back to my shocked state.

“I-I-I…” I stutter, trying to contemplate an answer that I would rather have right now.

If I had breakfast with her then I would have to be in her presence, however I would get an escape from his room that has acted as a luxurious prison room for me. And if I don’t go, I stay here but I don’t have to suffer through spending more time around her.

“I’m not really sure,” I replied honestly.

“Ok,” she continues, still sounding as nonchalant as she can. Is she doing it so that she sounds as if she doesn’t care, or does she genuinely not care?

“I’ll have Liz escort you to the dining hall, I’ll have breakfast in my office. Feel free to explore as much as you would like and come find me if you need me.”

“I’ll bring food up to you,” She says, closing the door.

“Wait,” I fall just as the door clicks shut. It opens a little and she pops her face into the room once more. “Can you please take me to the dining hall, I’m kind of sick of being cooped up in this room all day.”

“Well you wouldn’t have to be,” she says, holding the door open for me. “Miss Davids took a month holiday, I’m sure she will take you places if you ask her to.”

I simply just nod my head, not wanting to ruin this girl’s image of her boss saving her from suicide, when all I’ve experienced in the presence of her was pain.

When we enter the dining hall, true to her word, Miss Davids isn’t anywhere to be seen. When I sit down on the plush cushioned chair, a silver platter is placed in front of me, holding an assortment of different foods and delicacies.

My stomach continues to grumble and eventually my rebellion breaks and I begin to slowly eat what is in front of me, not really wrong what everything tastes like because I am so hungry.

But I’m still confused about the way that woman was treating me this morning, giving me freedom to choose, on top of allowing me to explore her home and not letting me have to be in her presence until I want to be. That is until tonight probably, given that I am staying in her room with her.

I’m just going to have to stand my ground every time I see her, she isn’t going to be able to make me do something that isn’t my choice unless she forces me to. And that includes me talking to her.