that door, she had less than three seconds to get down on her knees and show me
the respect I deserved. Down here, I was her fucking Master, and if I had to treat her
like the slave she had been back at the warehouse to get her to understand her
place, then so be it. If she disobeyed me even once, she returned to her cage. After
two weeks of strict confinement, she only risked that punishment once. There were
no more attempts of intentionally displeasing me after that.
I made sure she depended on me for everything. I woke her, bathed her, warmed
her, read to her, clothed her if she was good, fed her, punished her, pleasured her,
and put her to sleep. I cared for her every need. She wasn’t allowed to do anything
on her own without my permission, except relieve herself, and if she did, there was
trouble for her.
Again, in the beginning, she would experiment with her freedom, and again, she
would lose it. It was a pattern with her. She’d behave well up until I tested her with
more responsibility. She’d always fuck it up, thinking she could outsmart me;
thinking I wouldn’t see when she tried to manipulate me into sympathizing with
her.
Eventually, she learned to stop trying, to take what I gave her in stride until she
finally came to terms with what her ultimate goal was: to please me. By the fourth
week, pleasing me motivated everything she did, but I didn’t want her motivation
simply to be to get out of the room. I wanted her to please me because it pleased her
to do so. I wanted her to make me happy because she wanted to, not because she
had to. But that conditioning would be the result of Stockholm syndrome, and we
simply weren’t there yet.
When I moved to leave her, the panic in her voice had me smiling on the inside.
She didn’t like it when I left her alone, but she didn’t realize how important her
isolation was. I learned the most from her when she was alone, watching to see if
she would fall into old routines or practices. After Jaden’s first week of being able to
roam freely, she trained. She’d exercise until her face was beet red—shadowboxing,
advanced kicks, running in place, push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, planks, yoga,
everything she could do to not only stay in shape but also to stay warm. When she
wasn’t exercising, she’d meditate or stretch. It wasn’t as if I gave her much to do in
there. But after a few weeks, her behavior began to change. Each day, she engaged
in a little less training; there was less rage in her shadowboxing, and her kicks
lacked their usual flair.
Some days, she wouldn’t train at all and spent hours crying into the pillows. She
was losing hope, and though it broke my heart to see her in such pain, I knew it was
necessary. She was beginning to see her training as pointless, and she was slowly
starting to give up. She’d spend more time either curled in a ball on the bed, her
small fingers tracing over my name on her wrists, or pacing the room while her
eyes watched the door anxiously. She was waiting for me—waiting for me to free
her from her isolated torment. But she would not be free because of pity or for my
overwhelming desire to have her at my side again. I had a goal that I needed to
accomplish, and if I stopped now, I feared the whole process would be ruined, and
I’d have to start completely over.
When I did eventually go to her, the happiness that flashed on her face made me
smile. I wanted her to look at me like that forever. But just as I left, her smile would
fade, and she would curl back into a depressing state of loneliness. I wanted to
bring her back to the light so badly, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready. I needed to
find out for sure.
When I walked into the room in the morning, Jaden was still asleep in the bed,
curled up on her side and facing the door. She looked so sweet and innocent in her
sleep; my redheaded angel that I was going to twist into a new demon.
Gently sitting on the bed, I tucked the stray hair that fell over her face behind
her ear. The slight motion was enough to make her stir.
“Wake up, princess,” I whispered, my hand lovingly caressing her face.
Her lids slowly lifted just enough to reveal the beautiful amber behind them. A
sleepy smile graced her lips as she moved her head into my lap, nudging her face
against my thigh. Warmth flooded my chest at her reaction to me, and I rewarded
her by running my fingers through the soft strands of her hair. She allowed a quiet
moan of pleasure to leave her throat, practically purring in my lap like a sexy little
kitten. I continued to stroke her hair for only a few more seconds before I finally
gripped her roots tightly and held firm, sending a wave of shock over Jaden’s body.
“Time for breakfast,” I drawled, and she knew exactly what that meant.
Without a single second of hesitation, Jaden moved to pull down the zipper of
my pants. She released my painfully hard cock from its confines only
