Mature!

Please do not reade this if mature material will offend. Thank you.

Edit: I changed a few things I saw that needed fixing, and also have placed this under the appropriate genre, style, and license.

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It's painful, but I still remember a time before this. A time when I had a name, when I was loved, and gave love in return. A time when I had a family, friends, and school. A time when my biggest worry was that there might be monsters in the dark, and what grade will I get on my homework? A time when there were colors and shapes. I remember my mother's beautiful face in my dreams, and think that I must have taken after her. My hair is not as thick as hers, and it isn't curly at all, but my face is round, and I'm told that I am stunningly beautiful.

It was only three days before my seventh birthday when everything changed. I remember the date because I was looking forward to my party. I wanted to have a pinata, and I wanted to invite all of my friends, and we were going to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey,and Musical Chairs, and we were going to swim in our pool, too! It was the best party I'd ever planned.

Or it would have been, except that I was stolen away from my family. When I try to remember that night, all I have are flashes of color and memory. I remember my violet quilt being thrown off my bed. I remember the vibrant red of the hall carpet, and the feeling of being slung over someone's back. And then, I remember only the cold metal of the space ship, before I fell unconscious.

When I woke up, it was to the awful sounds of screaming and crying. I was the oldest there, though I didn't really realize it then. There were a few nearly as old as I, one or two that I remembered from school even. The rest were younger. The youngest was barely a baby, not even able to walk yet. As I looked around, I remember being horrified to find myself in a huge cage. I wasn't alone in there, and I comforted the other kids as best I could, even holding a baby—she must've been just under a year old—in my arms. Gradually, everything quieted down to a low murmur of sniffles, and then He came.

There were others around, adults, standing around outside the cages that held us children. One or two women, but mostly men. Some were looking at us, even asking for one or another child to be brought out, to be examined more closely. But He was different from the rest of them. He was younger, and even the others were wary of Him, and He had a lot of space around him. He walked past each cage, and a dead silence followed Him. He walked slowly, examining each child with His eyes alone, and I trembled as He approached my own cage.
The other girls all hid behind me, and even the littlest one stopped crying as He came to our cage. His eyes fell on me, and I don't remember breathing, or even moving at all, as He examined me. But then, eventually, He moved on to the next cage, and I felt myself relax again.

After a little while, I fell asleep, and I guess He must have left without purchasing any of us. But the next morning, He returned and made His way directly to my cage. He pointed at me, and the other children all scuttled away, one even pulling the baby from my arms.

I will never forget His voice as He said those dreadful words, “This one.”

I was taken from the cage, and He fastened a pretty, gold-colored circlet around my neck. It had a loop in the front, and to the loop He fastened a leash made of a pretty maroon-and-gold cord. Though I didn't know it then, these colors would stand out vividly in my memory only a week later.

Holding the leash in one hand, He led me—at first I struggled against him, but after he backhanded me, I went quietly enough—to his vehicle. I'd like to call it a car, but we went between planets in it, and it looked like no car I'd ever seen. He allowed me to watch out the window as we left, and silence permeated the trip. I was seated, most uncomfortably for me, in His lap, but otherwise all was fine.

That first time He hit me, I knew I never wanted to truly anger Him. It hurt bad enough when He was simply annoyed, and I remember feeling the sting of His hand on my cheek for a day after. There were no mirrors that I was allowed to see, so I don't know if He left a mark there or not. When we got to His home, I meekly followed Him inside, and He showed me to a room with a beautiful, king-sized bed.

“You'll sleep here,” He said simply, and for the first time, I remember thinking that He sounded like perhaps He wasn't so bad. Then He led me into each room of the house, showing me everything. The final room was small, and very simple. It contained a closet and a cot, and nothing else. He closed and locked the door, then told me to stay there while He went into the closet. When He re-emerged, He had a pale blue piece of cloth in His hand. I hadn't moved an inch from the spot He'd left me, and He seemed pleased by that.

“Good girl.” His voice was soft, and even warm, as he spoke. Then he went around behind me,and placed the cloth over my eyes, tying it firmly in the back. “You will wear this until I remove it.”

Even at that age, I understood that there would be very bad consequences if I removed the cloth. I nodded, wanting to please Him again, to hear that gentleness in His voice. This want to please Him would make it very easy for Him to train me, as well as the helplessness I felt at being suddenly unable to see. So when He said I was not to remove the blindfold, I didn't. I felt him take hold of the leash again, and lead me to a different room.

At first, I never knew which room he would lead me to, but as the day wore on, I became better at identifying what room we were in by the sounds. I was never more than a meter from His side, because of the leash, and I liked to stay just a step behind Him, because then I always knew where to walk by listening to His footsteps. By the end of the day, I was no longer running into things, and He rarely had to tug the leash to guide me.

I think we visited every room in that house, but my bedroom, during that day. I remember the sounds of the kitchen, as He spoke with the two men that were cooking there, and the sounds of the laundry room, as He checked in there. He even let go of my leash for a moment, and I thought of bolting. But then I felt a cool hand on my arm, and a kind voice saying quietly, “If you run, where will you go?”

In the moment it took me to think of where, exactly, I'd run to, He took hold of my leash again, and I had no options. The other woman's voice made me reconsider trying to escape, at least while I knew so little of the place around me, but the rest of the day, He seemed displeased. He would pull on my leash, even when He didn't have to, and I found myself constantly victim to His displeasure.

Finally, at the end of the day, I was so weary from being on my feet, and so very hungry, He lead me into the dining room. When I would have taken the seat next to Him, He pulled hard on my leash, almost causing me to fall over. Reluctantly, I sat in His lap, as I had when we rode to His home. My reluctance didn't last very long, though, for I found that He would feed me. Every time I swallowed, I would feel his fork or spoon, with a bit of food on it, pressing gently against my lips. Once I was full, I shook my head at the feel of the questioning fork, and it was removed.

As tired as I was, I leaned against His chest, beginning to doze. He put one arm around me, holding me to Him ever so gently, and I fell asleep there. All too soon, He woke me by moving me off His lap. I stood as He did, and followed Him silently back to the beautiful bedroom He'd shown me first. Once there, I expected Him to remove the blindfold and leave me, but instead, He turned and locked the door, then unclipped my leash from the gold circlet.

“You will undress me,” He said quietly, seeming to be happy with me again.

I didn't move, my face turned up toward Him in consternation. After a few minutes of silence, He grabbed my hand and, kneeling, placed it on the top button of His shirt. Sounding annoyed, He repeated, “I said, you will undress me. Now.”

Biting my lip, I nodded, remembering still the sting of His backhand, as well as the many bruises I'd accumulated that day. I fumblingly unbuttoned His shirt with my small hands, and did my best to help Him out of it. Then He stood, moved over to the bed, and sat on it. I followed Him, not knowing what else to do, and He had me kneel down and untie His shoes. I fumbled around on the carpet for a minute or two, before I found them, and then I accidentally made a knot in His shoelace. He was very patient with me, as He had me untie the knot.

After I removed His shoes, it was His socks, and finally His pants and undergarments. Once He was fully undressed, I stood, not knowing what else to do, until I heard His voice again, “Now, undress yourself.”

Obediently, for I was tired, and simply wanted to sleep, I undressed myself, finding this to be a much easier task than undressing Him was. Finally, all that was left was the blindfold and the circlet, and I stood nude before Him.

“Now take all of these clothes, and put them in the hamper.”

Uncertainly, I searched around until I found my shirt,then I fumbled around on the carpet for a while, before I finally found all of the garments. Once I had them all gathered in my arms, He directed me, from His perch on the bed, to the clothing hamper, where I placed all of our clothes.

When I had finished that task,he told me to come back over to the bed.

“But—,” I began, and almost immediately, he was off the bed, standing before me, and I felt a sting on my other cheek, telling of a second backhand.

“You will do as you're told, Slave, and never argue.” His tone was final, and I nodded, feeling tears wet the blindfold. I heard Him return to the bed, but stayed where I was until He said, “Now, come here.”

Without argument this time, I moved toward where I thought the bed was. Because it was so large, I did get to it fine, but at the opposite side from Him. I crawled onto the bed and started to climb under the blanket, when I heard His voice again, “Stop.” So, I stopped.

The bed moved as He came to sit next to me. “Every night, you will kiss the top of this.” He grabbed one of my hands, and guided it to touch a part of Him. I didn't know what it was I touched, but I obediently leaned forward and kissed the top of it. It was warm and soft beneath my lips, and it felt silly to kiss it, but if it would please Him...

And He did seem pleased. He crawled under the blankets, then lifted them up and said, “Come.” Gratefully, I crawled into the bed, too, and prepared to sleep. He pulled me close to Him, using care, but quite firmly. And held there, against His chest, I fell asleep.