Epilogue: A Lasting Conquest
The life of a slave is a dark planet's orbit, revolving around a beautiful, uncaring sun. And there is no arguing with gravity.
Most free people have their own form of centering, of course. Work, routine, hobbies, scheduled entertainment. But those things are flexible, and can evolve over time.
When you're a slave, though, the days blend into one another. You wake up and go to bed at consistent times, perform the same chores over and over -- and you simply cannot stray. The rules are enforced from outside. You have no control.
The only fixed point, the only anchor, is the owner's will.
Living like this dulls your intellect, it makes you something less than human... but at this point, I'm starting to make my peace with it. Anbar does always tell me I was born stupid, and simply had a misguided sense of my own intelligence when I thought myself free.
Perhaps more importantly, I am less than human... so this state of affairs suits me just fine. I look at the upside: life as a slave is a life of certainty. I have no responsibility, except do my owners' bidding.
There definitely is a downside though, and not one you might expect. When change does arrive, it's sudden, unstoppable -- your owners mandate it, after all -- and you have no choice except take it in stride.
It's been a few days since the last time I've been in direct contact with Alia or Anbar's feet -- although strangely, Yasmin still uses me as her foot girl whenever she fancies, and of course I submit without protest.
Like I said, change. No explanation has been offered, no reason given. It is not my place to ask or question, of course. I am the sisters' slave, and this makes them my anchor point. If they want me away from their feet for a while, then of course I will comply.
Like chunks of space debris, orbiting a distant sun, I'm a slave to my orbit. I pale into insignificance, next to the radiance of the stars. So I keep to my schedule, and wait for Alia or Anbar to tell me what's going on.
It's not like my routine isn't full as it is, especially now that Alina expects full control over me at work. I let it absorb me in full, and wait for time to pass, and for the other shoe to drop... so to speak.
When eventually it does, even my slavish composure threatens to vacillate. I do my best to look submissive and receptive, open for instructions, as is expected of me... but I'm nervous.
The summoning takes place in Alia's room, strangely -- not Anbar's, where so many fateful moments of my transformation have taken place. The old Zainab might have figured out what this clue hints at, but that person no longer exists.
Still, I wonder. What do Alia and Anbar have in mind? Well, I suppose I will find out soon either way, it's not like I have a choice.
On the plus side, this does mean there is no lingering, overpowering foot scent, so I can still think with a modicum of clarity. Or as much as I can muster, when in the presence of my two conquerors.
I kneel before my Goddess and my Queen, and obediently await their pronouncements.
Alia crosses one leg over the other, her angelic face resting on her chin. She contemplates me with a mixture of amusement and contempt. There has never been so much distance between us.
She's a vision of radiant femininity, and I'm just chattel.
"You love me, slave," she says, batting her eyelashes instantly. I know Alia expects full and utter devotion at all times, so I gulp, trying to somehow kneel even lower than I already do, and profess my feelings for her.
"I do, Your Majesty," I say in a rapt whisper. "With all my heart."
That causes Anbar to guffaw at my display. "We certainly don't love you back!"
"No we don't. That goes without saying," Alia says, matter-of-factly. But the glint of amusement in her eyes belies her indifference. She loves seeing the emotional pain etched on my face.
"But we deserve your undying worship and devotion, no matter what we do to you. Isn't that right?"
I narrow my eyes, but only for a moment. This is a very strange line of questioning Alia has taken. Yes, she wants to be showered in adoration, but she perfectly knows these things to be true. I feel like I'm being set up for something...
Even so, there is no alternative to obedience. I hang my head low in defeat. "Yes, Your Majesty. No matter how many things you t-t-take... I will always, always love you."
"It's only right," Alia says, and there's some steel in her voice now, reminding me she is as beautiful as she is terrible. But then, she makes a show of mellowing out. "I'll be very open and honest with you, Zainab. I want something from you, and you're going to hate it. But you'll do it anyway, because you love me."
I swallow, trying to keep my breathing steady. I... I genuinely don't even know what else Alia could possibly take from me. She draws it out, teasing me with her amused eyes, with the way her foot bobs up and down.
Then, she spills the beans.
"I want you to drop out of college for me."
It's such a simple, unassuming line. It's delivered with such perfect innocence. But it hits me like an earthquake.
All of a sudden, things I haven't even thought about in so long resurface again. College. I was a promising student, once. I had friends there, once. I interacted with people who saw me as an equal.
Shock courses through me. This is the last week before finals! I've been neglecting my college career for months as I slave away for the sisters, but even so, this final request, so outrageous, so cruel, so...
Hot...
Who am I fooling? Did I really think I would ever be allowed to cling to college? Anbar is right, I'm so stupid, I deserve everything that's happening to me.
My captors have deliberately destroyed every aspect of my life they could get their hands on, why would this be any different? I won't be allowed to go and find a job, have a career. That would be too much like being free.
I've busted my ass all my life for college... and that's precisely why Alia wants me to give it up. For love, she says. Devotion. Worship.
"All those countless hours burning the midnight oil..." Alia whispers, as if reading my mind. "Offer them up to me, slave. Like a religious sacrifice to your true deity."
Absurdly, I find myself wishing she'd stick a foot in my face, let me breathe myself stupid. That would dull the pain and my senses, it would drown my brain in morass, make it easier to destroy the last bit of independent life that I will ever know.
But neither Alia nor Anbar offer their feet to me. All I'm given is Alia's phone.
"I've already dialled the administration office. Just make the call."
She's going to make me do this on the spot. I can see her biting her bottom lip with a mischievous smirk on her face as she's savoring this moment, where she is almost literally trampling my very soul into the dirt.
God, I love her so much...
