Wrong Side of the Bed -

Chapter 4: Collared

This is a work of FICTION, made by and for adults 18+. The following chapter includes mentions of unintentional suicide and depictions of trauma and mandated slavery. Reader discretion is advised.

Elva found herself in a small, well-lit chamber with blue walls that reminded her of sunny summer skies. Upon stepping in, she noticed the dark, strangely-soft grass under her feet. In the above corners were brightened orbs casting a warm glow on the white ceiling. Turning to the room itself, Elva saw two armchairs with black cushions sitting opposite each other in the center; a black door on the opposite wall marked the only other exit.

"Please," Mistress waved to their left, "have a seat, kitten."

Elva cast her a hesitant glance but stepped forward.

'It's,'

she settled into the plush cushioning,

'

really

comfortable,'

and held the contract in her lap.

With a light smile, Mistress took the seat across from Elva, gracefully crossing her left leg over the other. "Well, kitten?" The disarming voice left her mesmerized. "Have you read your contract?"

Elva jumped. "O-oh! Yes," she shyly looked at the scroll, "I have."

"Do you have any objections?"

She thought about the various passages before meeting Mistressʼ gaze. "No."

"Do you have any

questions

?" she probed.

Mouth agape, Elva sat still.

'There's so much I don't understand.'

"Well, if you can't think of one right now," she recrossed her legs and relaxed, "how about I start?"

Elva shyly nodded, still playing with her toes.

"First question, kitten," Mistress tilted her head. "What made you summon an

incubus

?"

"Well, I needed protection. There were only a few summons in Móra's grimoire, but I could only perform—and offer payment for—one, so..." Elva blushed.

"So you sought to offer your body," she continued anyway.

'Not so bluntly,'

Elva squirmed,

'but—'

"Yes."

"Yet you still have not really answered my question, kitten. Why an

incubus

," her tone thawed, "and not a succubus?"

'I— I'm not sure...'

"I— guess I didn't consider the alternative."

"Are

you

," her expression softened as Mistress cradled her breasts, "

disappointed

by the alternative, kitten?"

After taking Mistress in, Elva blushed and shook,

'No...'

Her smile widened with a cute tilt. "I'm glad you think so." As quickly as it appeared, her smirk faded. "Next question, kitten. What about your life before was so frightening?"

"Um, frightening?" She heard shouting and screaming in the far distance. "W-what do you mean?"

"You know I can read your thoughts. You compared me to some 'ugly hunters,' I assume the same ones you needed protection from." Mistress reached out her left hand. "May I see them?"

She quizzically looked down. "You— can do that?"

"As long as I'm touching you," Mistress clarified. "I will only see what your eyes saw and what you allow me to see."

Elva hesitantly leaned forward too. Before they touched, she nervously wondered, "Do I have to see them?"

"No, kitten, I'll be able to see. Please, think no more of them." With a sigh, Elva lowered a finger to her warm palm. "Thank you for trusting me, kitten." She closed her lids and gently touched Elva back. After a few heartbeats, her face grew sorrowful. "I'm so sorry, little kitten. You've endured so much fear," as Mistress opened her eyes, she tenderly held Elva, "and you've been so alone. It's cruel for someone so pure to experience so much pain in such a short life."

Taken aback, Elva couldn't respond. Her mouth hung agape as tears welled.

'No one since Móra has said such kind things.'

"And I don't want them to be the last kind things you hear," she softly replied. "I don't want you to fear me, kitten; fear easily spoils the taste of a soul's energy. I find that a slave tastes the sweetest when they're in bliss. I wish for you to look at me with adoration, kitten."

She dried her lids.

'Adoration. That doesn't sound so bad.'

Raised voices continued to cloud her thoughts, though, and Elva found it difficult to halt her sobs.

Mistress sweetly shushed. "You're safe here..." She seemed uncertain before adding, "I promise you'll never fear the hunters again."

Elva pushed out the noise watching Mistress' visage,

'Your eyes... Why do they look sad?'

"Last question," she pulled away, "kitten." Her face collected, Mistress inquired, "What do you feel when you look upon me?"

'What— do I

feel

? Well... I suppose... her— hair is— very...'

She promptly became lost in the crimson waves as her ponytail loosely lay next to Mistress' legs. The mane eventually drew Elva to the sleek, reddish glint of her thigh through the side slit of her dress.

'Her skin— looks so— smooth.'

Elva's gaze wandered,

'Her hands seem so— delicate. I don't understand why her nails are—

black

now, but— they're

really

well kept. Much more than— Oh!'

She had to glance down,

'I— don't think I've ever seen my nails so—

neat

. Did that happen when I died?'

As her inspection resumed, something on the fourth finger of Mistress' right hand gave her pause.

'What is that band? I've never seen metal so bright before. It looks really intricate, but— I can't see what the shape is.'

Elva moved on to the lace corset and the floral details that reminded her of the flowers near her cottage. She grew warm and flushed upon noting,

'Oh wow, her hips look—

nice

... and her— chest— is...'

The shadowy cleavage bursting from the deep plunged dress left her entranced.

'Oh, Brigit,'

the image of Mistress' robe falling wandered into her mind,

'those are— O-

oh

, I—'

Elva attempted not to shudder after realizing how hot she'd grown.

Swiftly lifting her gaze, the black gloss on Mistress' lips allured her as it shimmered in the warm light. The slight curves of her mouth left Elva longing,

'I— I

really

want to—'

Her lashes flickered,

'I probably shouldn't think about that anymore.'

She looked to Mistress' ruby irises, which seemed to glow through their thinly parted lids. Elva almost answered but then noticed her ears had a point at the upper tips and a set of black jeweled studs were in the lobes.

'She's so—

strange

, but— so beautiful. All I feel is—'

"A-adoration."

Mistress' smile softened. "Thank you, kitten." Elva glanced away in a fluster as her chest raced. "Now, you must have some questions for me. Please, what do you want to know, kitten?"

"Um," she twiddled her toes. "Why— do you keep calling me kitten?"

Subtly grinning, Mistress cheekily answered, "Because it pleases me to say, and I enjoy watching your cheeks flush and your legs squirm when I call you so,

kitten

."

Conscious of her fidgeting, she vainly held her feet still. Elva shyly averted her gaze before remembering, "So, you told me I'm dead. What does that mean for me? I mean, I'm

breathing

, aren't I?"

"Your mind is just as alive as it was when you had a living body, even if you no longer need to breathe. The body you inhabit is no longer living and—as such—you can't die again. However, even if your body isn't alive, you can still experience all the sensations you could when you were alive. You can taste, you can smell, feel pleasure, pain, or— or experience permanent harm."

Following Elva's shiver, Mistress continued, "In the Immortal Plane—in

Hell

—the only rights a human has are those granted by their contract. 'You are here to serve penance for your sins until you have been absolved,' as

some

say. I'm sorry, kitten, but—however unintentional your suicide was—it is not a sin that is quickly pardoned. You've been given a sentence of five hundred years—or summers, as you call them."

"

F

—" Elva's heart dropped; the color drained from her cheeks while her head fell into her palms.

'Five hundred summers! All because I used the wrong blood. I just...'

Tears of frustration welled as she sniveled, "I just wanted to feel

safe

... To be

protected

."

"And you'll

have

my protection, kitten," she held Elva's knee, "for as long as you're contracted with me. It's in my contract and, if a demon breaks the terms of a contract, they lose all rights to keep slaves."

Already feeling lighter, Elva willed herself to look at the sleek hand.

'Mistress' protection...'

She wiped her cheeks and released her clench before meeting Mistress' kind expression, it alone nearly setting her heart at ease. "I suppose— that might not be so bad then."

"I'm glad you feel that way, kitten," she smiled. "Five hundred years is a long time to live with fear. Especially of your Mistress," her tone turned somber while her smile faded. She sat upright again. "Do you have another question?"

Glancing left, Elva acknowledged the door opposite the one they entered. "Uhm, what is..." She held her tongue,

'Do I—

want

to know what...'

"What's on the other side of the door?" Mistress finished anyway. Elva cautiously nodded. With a smirk, Mistress answered, "Sorry, kitten. You need to be under contract to know what's in the playroom."

"The—

playroom

?" Elva stared in disbelief.

'I can't imagine what could be so—

playful

.'

"

Trust

me," she chuckled. "There will be

plenty

to play with, kitten."

'That's not at all comforting,'

Elva squirmed. Unable to think of anything else, she finally asked, "So, what happens now?"

"If you have no more questions," Mistress reached out her left palm, "then hold the scroll with me so we may say our vows to begin our contract." Elva hesitated before handing over the contract, flushing as their fingertips touched. "Do you remember your vows?"

"I—

think

so."

"Then let me say them with you," Mistress reassured. "'I, Elva, of sound mind and body, so hereby relinquish all rights to my Mistress except those granted by my contract.'" She paused so Elva could repeat. "'I vow to devote myself fully to my Mistress and trust in her care and protection for the duration of my time in her services.'"

As Elva finished, the scroll shimmered in golden. "Well spoken, kitten; your heart was true to your vows." Elva blushed and averted her gaze. "Now, let me recite my vows. 'I, Saoirse, of sound mind and body, so hereby take possession of all rights of my slave except those authorized by her contract.'" Her tone became uncertain, "'Under pain of death, I vow to care for and protect her as payment for her devotion for the duration of her time in my services.'"

The scroll glittered with pinkish purple, but Elva wondered,

'Under pain of death? That wasn't in Mistress' vows. Why would she add it?'

She couldn't ponder further as the scroll lifted into the air while the aura intensified before bursting into puffs of light. Elva flinched until the shine faded and then found the scroll had transformed into a black band. As it fell into Mistress' palm, she stood up and stepped around Elva's chair.

"Please, lift your hair, kitten." Elva glanced back and nervously pulled her locks away. Her spine shivered as Mistress' nails gently traced her skin and placed the collar at her throat; the smooth pelt caressed her as it closed into a tender embrace.

As Mistress let go, Elva felt the band; there was no crease or mark where the strap was once open.

'So— that was a collaring.'

The leather hold was foreign yet comforting, though something about it left Elva bashful.

Stepping before her, Mistress offered her hand. "Do you remember your safeword, kitten?"

Elva timidly answered, "Teardrop," while reaching out.

"

Good

," she sinfully grinned. "Then let us begin,

my

kitten."