Finding Home Ch 05

Cassy had about a half hour before she needed to go down for dinner. She debated what to do with her time. She quickly changed into her uniform and checked her computer. There was nothing new on her desk top. She decided to start on the list of what she liked to do.

It was easier to think of things she used to do. She used to like reading. For as long as she could remember she had always had at least a half dozen books she was reading at the same time. All kinds; mysteries, nonfiction, adventure, fantasy, trash, she had loved them all. Somehow the refuge of reading had lost its ability to lull her and she had found herself turning to the grayness more.

She had liked puzzles, word puzzles, jigsaw puzzles, any kind of puzzle. She remembered liking to count, sort, and catalog things and when she worked at the bookstore she would be the first to volunteer to do inventory work.

It was time for dinner before she knew it. She had to hurry down the stairs to be standing behind her chair on time. She was last to arrive but the big clock on the mantle said 7:59. She let out a sigh of relief, somehow she really did not want to be called out for being late. The professor arrived precisely at 8:00 and they all sat down to another wonderful meal. Conversation was light, revolving around their experiences of the day, weather, food.

Cassy was surprised to find she was ravenous, eating everything on her plate and helping herself to seconds. The Professor's voice was approving, "Seems like someone has found her appetite."

Cassy blushed and grinned, "Like you say Momma has a magic touch."

"Well enjoy it today. Momma has a couple well earned days of vacation coming and we are on our own for the next two days. What kind of order out are we going to indulge ourselves in tomorrow? I am thinking maybe Thai? Lets plan on eating in the kitchen."

Windy and Acadia voted a loud yes. Mary shrugged as if she didn't care. William nodded with a smile. Cassy had never had Thai food before. She nodded uncertainly, "Is it very spicy? I don't much like food that is too hot."

"We can order some not so spicy stuff for you. If you are here for dinner."

Cassy's head snapped up. Where could she be. Her heart raced and she tried to catch his eyes. What did he mean 'if she was here'. She caught his eyes looking at her amused and yet warning off her asking any questions.

Cassy stayed after dinner to speak with the Professor remembering he had made the statement he wanted to check in with her after dinner. She sat at her place trying to look relaxed, idly folding her napkin, resisting the urge to pepper him with questions.

"How was your day Cassy."

"I kept pretty busy with working in the library. I got it mostly sorted out but there are some things I guess I should ask you about."

"Like what."

"Like do you want to hang onto the out of date magazines. Can I move the games downstairs? Is there a table we can put downstairs to play games with? Just a lot of little questions. I think it might be nice if I could set up an index system so if people checked out books they could sign them out."

The Professor laughed and held up his hand. "OK OK I get it. You might make a list of that kind of stuff and give it to me. I am happy that you are taking such an interest in setting it up so nice. You used to work at a bookstore. Why did you stop?"

"My Master takes care of everything. He wanted me to stay home with him."

"I wonder if you need to be caged up so tightly."

Cassy wondered if he was criticizing her Master. It would never had occurred to her to even wonder if any of his decisions were correct. If he had made them, they just were. "Professor, please what did you mean 'if I am here for dinner'? Where would I be?"

"It is normal for residents to go out. They frequently visit with family and friends over the weekends. I know Mary will be gone the whole weekend. I would not be surprised if your Master might like to spend some time with you."

Cassy felt a rush of excitement and at the same time a kind of dread. She always had this underlying sense of not quite being good enough for her Master, like he was standing at a distance judging her and seeing her weaknesses. "Do you think I am ready to go out? It has been only a couple of days. What if I get scared?"

"I wouldn't let you do anything I thought was risky for you and it would be good for you two to spend some time together. Aren't you happy about the idea of seeing him?"

"Yes, of course I am happy. I just kind of feel afraid of..." Her voice faltered, "...afraid of...not being just right... of being not good enough. Sometimes I feel like I don't know what he wants from me."

"If you don't know what he wants, why don't you ask him?"

"I can't. I can't talk to him. Its more than just not being allowed to speak. Its like even if I could talk I wouldn't be able to find the words."

"The only way you can learn to do this is by trying. Write him. Write him a letter. Ask him what he wants. Tell him what you want. Tell him how you feel. I know he wants to hear from you."

"You have talked to him?"

"Cassy, he comes here for therapy. Didn't he tell you that? He asks how you are doing. He writes about missing you in his journal every day."

"He writes in a journal?"

"All my patients have a journal. Its a key part of how I do therapy. Cassy, your Master is a man, just like many other men. You seem to have lost track of that."

Cassy nodded uncertainly. She had a sudden thought. He was normal but she wasn't.

The Professor smiled and stood. "Enough of this talk, I wanted to ask you about how you have been doing with memories. How did today go as far as your feelings or memories about being abused?"

Cassy was stunned. She had not thought about it at all. She could remember it happening and she could find the memories inside her head but she had not thought about it at all. "Oh my god. How come I haven't been thinking about that?"

"I would suspect you have a life time habit of not thinking about it. We have knocked down the wall between you and your memories but you have to find the pathways. It is not terribly important to relive every second but understanding what happened to you will help you understand how it shaped you. You will have more insight into understanding why you relate to the world the way you do."

"There is just so much I don't understand. I don't know what I feel half the time. You say to tell him what I want. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I could want."

"Its a big amazing world. Today is the first day you have stopped hiding from it. It is full of infinite possibilities. You are a bright beautiful young woman. You have all the time in the world to find what you want. Don't worry about it too much. Just take the time to take joy in what you do."

"I think I love you."

"Good Cassy. Love is a good thing. Freely given, love is the greatest gift we can give. The awesome thing is that there is no limit to love. The more people you let into your life, the more people you love, the more love you will have to give. Now we have been talking for a while and its time you got yourself up to your room. Work on your journal. Write a letter to your Master. I will be up at eleven to give you a sleeping medication."

Cassy scampered to her room. Somehow the conversation with the Professor had left her energized, her mind racing. Was that love? His complete understanding of her, his commitment to her care, the safety she felt when she was with him, her absolute trust in him seemed like it was love. Her Master took care of her too but rarely spoke with her and never listened. She wondered if he knew her at all.

In her room she wrote in her journal and thought about a letter to her Master.

Dear Sir,

I miss you so much. I never thought I could ever live apart from you. You came to me when I was completely lost. If you had not found me when you did I probably would be dead now.

The Professor asks me how I think you feel, how you felt when you were writing me. I have to admit I never allowed myself the familiarity of assuming how you may be feeling. Now that I have to think about it, I feel at a loss. The Professor says you love me and that feels good to know. There is a wonderfully kind lady who cooks here who tells me that love is when you put the other persons needs before your own. I know I always felt like you cared a lot for me because you took care of me. I have always felt safe when I was with you.

I have learned that I have been hiding away from my feelings my whole life. The Professor has helped me remember that I was abused by my family when I was little and I learned to hide away inside my mind to protect myself from the fear and anger I felt. The habit of hiding saved my sanity but left me alone lost, trapped in a prison of my own making. I just have found my way out but I feel exposed and vulnerable.

I have a lot to learn about feeling. I am not sure exactly what all this is about or where I am going. The Professor says for me not to worry too much about figuring this out all at once. He says I have plenty of time to figure out what I want. The one thing I know I want is for you to still be in my life.

I feel like I somehow failed you by my weakness. I wished I could have come to you whole and unhurt. I wish I could have been better for you. I am so sorry if I disappointed you by my retreats into what the Professor calls disassociation. For me it was a safe place to go. You wanted me quiet, you wanted me still, you wanted me to totally submit to you, all those things made it easier and easier for me to slip away into the swirling gray wind that had been my refuge for so long. As I write this I wonder if pain and fear aren't the pathways that lead me there.

The Professor says he thinks you might spend some time with me this weekend. I really want to see you but everything seems so new all of a sudden. It would help me a lot if you could talk to me more about what you want from me. I gave myself to you and I don't want that to change but I am afraid of losing myself again. For the first time in my life I feel like something wonderful is happening to me. I am not sure what it is but I want you to be part of it.

This letter is long and rambles. I just sat down and wrote. I am still feeling very confused about my life. I feel like I just woke up and when I think about all the things that have happened to me its like looking at an old movie you watched a long time ago. The only happy parts I remember were when I was with you. I am not sure if I know what love is but I know if I ever loved anyone I want you to be the one. You came into my life when I had nothing and gave me a life.

I am not sure what I want other than I want you. It would be a great help if you could tell me what you want.

Love Cassy

As Cassy reread the letter she wondered if she should say all these things to her Master. She had never allowed herself to talk about her feelings with him. How would he feel about this outpouring of confused ideas and thoughts. She thought seriously about deleting the whole thing and starting over. It would be so much safer to write a 'how are you, i am fine, the food is good here at camp' kind of letter. But she was sure that when the Professor had urged her to write her Master that he did not have that kind of letter in mind. At least she felt like what she had written was honest. She really did want to stay with her Master. She just wasn't sure if she wanted the same silent stillness that has marked their time together. It was almost like a morgue sometimes and she felt like she would stifle there now.

Cassy sighed and pushed all this to one side. It was starting to just revolve in circles in her head. She decided that this was one of those things that the Professor had said not to rush.

Opening her journal she added some of the questions that writing the letter had brought to her mind. Last she added the request for a table for games in the basement and a wish that the Professor could maybe meet with her in the library at his convenience to discuss some ideas she had.

Cassy opened the assignment of writing what she enjoyed doing. So soon after thinking so intensely about her Master she thought about what she liked to do with him. She wrote how she liked reading to him. Sitting at his feet, in a darkened room with only a tiny lamp to illuminate the pages she would read for hours, her body totally relaxed leaning against his leg, his hand gentle on her hair, feeling like their whole world was just the two of them and the story. It was the only time she spoke aloud in his presence.

She loved when he would just reach out and touch her, a caress to her cheek, a stroke on her hair. She wrote how she loved when he would hold her close to him, his arms wrapped safe around her, his heart beating next to hers. She wrote how it thrilled her to bring him pleasure, submitting to his needs, striving for perfection in serving his wishes. She wrote she loved to feel him inside her, the wonderful intimacy of his raw need of her flesh as he strained against her in his completion.

Cassy knew that she rarely found sexual excitement in the pain he sometimes asked of her. She had always been able to fly away on the gray wind if things got more than she was able to bear. She wondered if she could submit to the times when he hurt her with the same silence and stillness that he had come to expect if she stayed there and did not fade away.

Cassy's mind spiraled back to the last time they had been together sexually. It had been after dinner. He always cooked and she had always cleaned up the kitchen. She remembered him sitting there in his dark glasses watching as she put the dishes in the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. She had been nude but was wearing a small frilly apron to do the cleaning. She was just about to let the warm soapy water out of the sink when he came up close behind her. She became very still, standing, waiting for some signal as to what he was wanting. He gripped the back of her neck and slowly pushed her forward, the movement deliberate and strong he pushed her face down into the water, clear down until her face was pressed hard against the bottom of the sink. His body hard against hers, his hips crushing her to the counter, his chest pressing down on her back, his breath hot on the back of her neck. She had allowed the downward movement until her face touched the suds and she felt a slight tremor of hesitation course through her body. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter to brace herself, but she did not push back against his hand until she could not hold her breath any longer. She began to instinctively struggle to pull her face out of the water. The fear of drowning overcoming her deeply ingrained surrender to his hands.

He let her up to breath, just barely letting her head above the water. She sobbed and coughed, dragging air deep into her lungs. His voice was soft and deep in her ear, "Don't you trust me?" and he pushed her under again. This time she fought every inch but he was stronger, he held her under until she saw dark spots in front of her eyes. Again he relented. As she gasped in the air, she heard his words again, "Don't you trust me?" Cassy remembered how she nodded as she coughed and strangled trying to fill her lungs, then she had placed her hand on top of his and pushed her own head under, forcing her whole body to soften against his, helping to hold her own head under the water rather than fighting him.

She remembered how warm the water had felt on her face, the feel of his body tight against hers, his hard cock pressing against her valley of her ass. If he wanted her to drown than that was what would be and her place was to embrace it like she had embraced every other test he put before her. The next thing she was aware of was him shaking her, water flying from her hair as her head was flung about by his arms trying to wake her.

She remembered looking into his eyes, his magical pale blue eyes framed by the whitest of lashes and seeing the horror there. She smiled as she realized she was not dead and her hand reached to touch his face to somehow reassure him that it was OK. She was OK. He had crushed her to his chest and kissed her with an intensity that had startled her. He had taken her there on the kitchen floor, his lips never leaving hers as he thrust hard, forcing himself into her. She had been unready for him, her cunt dry and closed, but he took her anyway, needing to feel her life under his hands, his lips, his cock. She could still feel the burning pain of his thrusts into her and his deep convulsive shudder and groan as he poured his essence into her.

She had cradled him in her arms and the valley of her legs, holding him to her as he softly kissed her with demanding lips, his hands stroking her wet hair, staring endlessly into her eyes. Then he had suddenly grown distant and pulled away from her. He stood and left her laying there. His only words had been, "Finish cleaning up in here and go to your room." Only then after he was gone did she feel the tears start to spill from her eyes.

Her room was in the basement, adjacent to the central room where he tested her. It had no bed but there was a luxurious pile of pillows and blankets on a soft sleeping mat on the floor. He never came into her room preferring to come to her doorway and direct her to come to him. There was a lock on the door but he had never locked her in. His word was lock enough.

The professor's knock pulled her from her reverie. She noticed she was still in her uniform. She rushed to let him in. Once again he carried the small white pill and once again she obediently swallowed down the medication without question.

"I am sorry I wasn't ready for bed. I was writing and it started me thinking and I lost track of time."

"Go ahead and change into a nightie and tell me what you were thinking about."

Cassy went into the bathroom, speaking loud enough for him to hear from the bedroom and began to pull off her uniform. "I was thinking about what it was like to live with my Master. What things I liked and what was hard. I think I am afraid if I go back that I would just go back to being like I was before, and I don't want that. I want to stay with him but at the same time I am not sure how I can. He is so strong. He pushes me so hard sometimes. I am not sure I can do it anymore."

"What kinds of things are you afraid of?"

Cassy told him the story of her Master forcing her head into the sink. She spoke of her terror and her surrender. The Professor nodded. "He told me about that. Tell me about what was the hardest part."

"It wasn't being drowned. It wasn't that I thought I was going to die. It was when he walked away and left me laying on the floor afterward. I felt so alone then. I don't think I could take that anymore."

Cassy climbed into bed and moved over to the middle hoping he would once again lay beside her, holding her against his chest but he just sat on the foot of the bed. "You need more affection, more reassurance?"

"I just want to feel wanted. When he walked away it felt like I was so alone. I could not figure out why he could not stand to be with me. Why he was in such a hurry to get away from me."

"Sometimes the intensity of the experience is a light too bright."

Cassy knew this metaphor. Her Master avoided bright light. He was albino and the lack of pigment in his eyes made him sensitive. He could go out in daylight but he would get headaches. He hated the smell and sensation of sunscreen. His habit was to only leave the house in the dusk and night.

"He left me alone on the kitchen floor because he was afraid?"

"Not afraid of you. Afraid of his feelings. Afraid of losing control of himself. He values his self control very much."