A Rose Called Miracle: Book #3, Pt. 3
Author's Note: This is the third book of 'A Rose Called Miracle'. This is fiction. All characters in intimate situations are over 18. Any resemblance to real people, organizations, or businesses is purely coincidence.
If you are uncomfortable with the subjects of control, restraint, discipline, and mild corporal punishment, please go no further. Likewise, this story is peopled with hetero, interracial, and LGBTQ+ characters and couples, and indirectly--incest; if you can't deal with that, leave now--you'll only be offended. Also, I apologize to BDSM aficionados--in this story I pretty much ignore proper BDSM safety measures as the characters develop their relationship. Please do not use these writings as a 'how to' guide. Lastly, if anyone reading 'A Rose Called Miracle' has enjoyed my characters, feel free to take them on new adventures--but please don't mess too much with the canon.
BRETT AND KARI (A Master/slave story of Love and Loss)
There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle. Albert Einstein
For those who are willing to make an effort, great miracles and wonderful treasures are in store. Isaac Bashevis Singer
CHAPTER 11
It was a little after 9:30 when my phone rang. "Hello?"
"Master Brett? This is Slave Elizabeth."
"Good evening, Elizabeth. How can I help you?" Strange, why was she calling?
"Mistress Annabeth..." I heard coughing in the background...harsh, phlegmy coughing I recognized...my blood chilled. "Mistress Annabeth asked me to call and see if we were still on your schedule for tomorrow evening?"
"Of course. Dinner will be at 6:30. Kari is planning to make baked macaroni and cheese."
"Thank you, Master. Mistress Annabeth and this slave will see you then."
The next evening, Annabeth and Elizabeth arrived at 6:15. Elizabeth looked older, worn down, and tired. To say Annabeth looked terrible would be too kind. She was grey, haggard, and shrunken. Her eyes had no spark of life. She seemed barely alive; every movement exhausted her.
I half-carried Annabeth to the recliner in the living room and helped her sit down. Elizabeth helped carry a portable oxygen tank. Kari stood by. "Go prepare dinner, please." I ordered.
I turned to Annabeth; even with the portable oxygen tank her chest heaved trying to draw a decent breath. "I smoked..." She coughed, "For 40 years..." another fit of coughing, "Every time I lit up..." She gasped trying to breathe, "I thought...It can't happen to me." She sagged back in the recliner, "But guess what?"
"Lung cancer." I suggested more bluntly than I intended. She nodded. Elizabeth sobbed.
"Treatment?"
Annabeth shook her head, "Eliz..." She gasped. "...abeth! Speak...for me...Darling." Annabeth coughed out.
"Treatment?" I repeated.
"All treatments options have been exhausted," Elizabeth replied. Tears poured down her cheeks. "The tumors have spread so much that now it's only pain management and trying to help Mistress breathe."
Although I already knew the answer, I had to ask, "How much time?"
Elizabeth sobbed, "The doctor estimates between two to six weeks." I closed my eyes and shuddered. This was the same time frame I'd been given when I'd received the Red Cross telegram informing me of my mother's illness. She'd survived less than three weeks. Annabeth looked exactly as Mom had looked when I got home on emergency leave from my overseas assignment.
I looked back and forth from Annabeth to Elizabeth; I glanced at Kari preparing the table for dinner. "What can I do to help?" I finally asked.
Annabeth opened her eyes, "Show him...Elizabeth. Brett...typing's easier." Elizabeth opened a soft, thin briefcase and pulled out a folder. She stepped over to me, dropped into a perfect 'present' position, and held out the folder to me, "This is for you, Master."
Dear Brett,
It is my sincere wish, when I die, that you will accept guardianship of my beloved Elizabeth. My attorney is on call: if you accept my plan for Elizabeth, he will immediately notarize and file my amended will. It is a very simple document with only one provision: everything I have, after debts, passes to Elizabeth. The remainder of the will simply states that my attorney will be the executor of my estate; and then, once the estate is settled, all proceeds will be used to establish a trust for Elizabeth. If you accept guardianship, you will also be Elizabeth's trustee. My attorney will discuss your compensation.
I assure you, Brett...and Kari...that I and Elizabeth understand the enormous imposition and change we are asking you to make to your relationship; but neither I nor Elizabeth can imagine her with anyone else.
Now, a few personal notes about my darling Elizabeth:
First: She is completely submissive. She will do as she's ordered; but will not take initiative--except in the kitchen.
Second: She has seen your Kari's tattoo and piercings. She understands and accepts your prerogative, as her master, to decide on the body modifications you'd want for her.
Third: Elizabeth is a superb chef and menu planner. Early in our relationship I sent her to a culinary school in Boulder, Colorado for eight months. During that time, I worked out of my firm's office in that city. She specializes in French and Italian cuisines and graduated at the top of her class. Despite being offered positions at several top-level restaurants, she stayed with me, at what we jokingly call "Chez Spencer."
Fourth: She does not require severe discipline. She is very compliant and eager to please. But she does benefit from a nice, sharp spanking now and again.
Fifth: She enjoys sex with men and women equally. Again, though, she will not take the initiative. I would recommend that you do not permit Kari and Elizabeth to become intimate.
Sixth: I have instructed Elizabeth that once I am gone, she is never to use the phrase, "But Mistress Annabeth told me..." Your word is her law!
Thank you, Brett
Sincerely, Annabeth Spencer
I put down the folder. I finished a glass of water while I thought about things. "Sir? Dinner is ready." Kari called from the kitchen.
"Elizabeth, prepare a dish for Mistress Annabeth. Help her eat." I ordered. Annabeth shook her head, but Elizabeth ignored her and went to the kitchen. She returned with a small salad and miniscule portion of Kari's macaroni and cheese. She kneeled and slowly and lovingly, bit by bit, fed Annabeth. I flashed back to my mother's last days and my struggles to get her to eat something.
Elizabeth finished the feeding and wiped Annabeth's pale, blue-tinted, lips. She took the plate back to the kitchen. She returned and once more kneeled at Annabeth's side...she took her hand and held it.
"Elizabeth, how are you caring for your mistress?"
"Master, we have a 24/7 rotating team of nurses."
"It's too late now, but why didn't you ask me to come visit you. This trip must have been torture."
Elizabeth looked at the carpet. "Mistress refused this slave's suggestion. She insisted that for a request of this magnitude, we had to visit you." I glanced at Annabeth; she nodded agreement even as she struggled to draw a breath.
Kari came out of the kitchen and brought me a plate with salad and macaroni. I ate but kept asking questions.
Finally, I got to the question I had to ask, "Elizabeth are you sure you want to be my slave? Wouldn't you prefer to try independent living?"
She shook her head back and forth vigorously. "No Master. Please."
"Alright. I understand. Annabeth...Slave Elizabeth...I will accept responsibility for Elizabeth's welfare...when it becomes necessary."
"Thank you, Master." Elizabeth bowed her head toward me.
"Thank you...Brett...I'll be at peace...now." Annabeth gasped. "Eliz...abeth. Home." She struggled to stand but fell back, exhausted by the effort. "Help me." She pleaded. I moved to one side of Annabeth while Elizabeth moved to the other. Together, we helped Annabeth out of the chair. At the door, we struggled to get it open and keep Annabeth upright. I gave up and just swept Annabeth into my arms. "Elizabeth, get the door. Kari, you handle the oxygen." Annabeth was just skin and bones and as I carried her out to their car, I remembered my mother's last week--by then she was so sick and weak, I had to lift her from her sofa to the portable toilet. She couldn't walk the three steps from one to the other. I hoped Annabeth's nurses took care of that chore. It wasn't a memory Elizabeth needed.
I came back into the house after getting Annabeth settled in her car. I found Kari sitting at the kitchen table, slowly eating her dinner; tears pouring down her cheeks. "Mistress Annabeth is dying, isn't she." It was not a question.
"Yes. Very soon now."
"You agreed to take in Elizabeth?"
"Yes."
"Everything will be different when she comes here."
"Yes. But I don't know how drastically this will affect everyone."
Kari set down her fork, "I'm not hungry anymore." She got up; emptied her plate into the garbage can and began to wash the dishes.
I walked up behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, "I'm sorry this happened; but they needed our help."
"I understand. Master...Brett do not apologize...I am not mad. I am upset that there is so much sadness." She turned and placed her soapy hands on my face. "Brett...you are a good man. That's one of the reasons I love you so much. You can willingly set aside your personal interests and do what must be done to help others in their time of crisis and need..."
I tried to interrupt, but she shushed me with a finger across my lips.
"...you took me in when I was desperate, even though I thoroughly disrupted your life. Over these months you've taught me so much. Now, Elizabeth needs us, and we will see that she is well taken care of--a slave for you; a sister for me."