Chapter Eight: The Giggle-Twins
"Mom!" Rosina said in a hushed tone as she shook her mother by the shoulder. "MOM!" she said again, slightly louder, while shaking her mother a little harder.
"What?" Taryn replied with the slur of a sleepy, groggy manner that next morning.
"I need help," Rosina replied in a quiet tone of voice and paused for a moment. "I need help making breakfast for Master," she added in an even quieter tone of voice.
"Don't call him that in front of your father!" Taryn hissed as her eyes shot open; she glared at her daughter who was kneeling beside Taryn's side of the bed.
"What else would I call Master, but Master?" Rosina asked with a most puzzled look on her face, genuinely confused over what she saw as a silly question.
Taryn groaned and rolled her eyes; Rosina had it bad, hopefully she would calm down a bit in a few days. It was almost cute to see such fervent devotion to their collective Master. She smiled at Rosina, stroked her head and pulled her daughter toward her and kissed the young woman on the forehead. Taryn got out of the bed and tossed her bathrobe as she ushered her daughter out of the bedroom.
"Don't you know how to make breakfast?" Taryn asked with a queer look on her face as she walked downstairs with her arm around Rosina's waist. "Why did you need to drag me out of bed?" she added with a slightly perturbed chuckle as she squeezed her daughter at the shoulder.
"I want to make Master breakfast in bed, exactly the same as you did Thursday morning," Rosina said with a slightly subdued manner. A smirk was on her face as she spoke, while she watched her mother out of the corner of her eye.
"You mean the morning after he made me his Slave," Taryn said with a mock-serious tone of voice but once their eyes met the two women burst into laughter.
Taryn felt happy that morning as she walked into the kitchen with her daughter. She felt closer to Rosina this morning than she had in a few years. It was odd, and to an outside, rational mind it was a sick situation inside the Thompson household, but the three of them were happy. Taryn felt a connection to her daughter for helping her through the difficult time that the past few days had been for Rosina. There was something else that bonded them together closer than most mothers and daughters, they had something very important in common: Owen.
"So what exactly did you make him for breakfast Thursday, do you remember?" Rosina asked with apprehension, hoping that she would be able to recreate that scene exactly.
"Yeah I do," Taryn said with a smile and a chuckle.
"Oh good!" Rosina said with a most relieved manner.
"This is really important to you, isn't it?" Taryn asked with a sincere tone of voice as she rummaged around in the cupboards, looking for pans.
"Yes it is," Rosina said with a firm tone of voice as she saw Taryn stand up with pan in hand.
"NO!" Rosina said as she took the pan out of Taryn's hand while wearing a scowl on her face. "I need to make breakfast, you just need to tell me what to do," Rosina said as she pointed at the kitchen table while looking at her mother, expectantly.
"Okay!" Taryn said as she released the pan and put her hands up in surrender.
Shortly after Taryn sat down at the table, Rosina placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of her mother. Taryn then told Rosina everything that she made for Owen that morning and Rosina quickly scribbled it down on some scrap paper. Taryn then watched Rosina as she started to cook breakfast, constantly checking the paper she wrote. There was a familiarity in the way she was constantly referring to the piece of paper. It reminded Taryn of herself that fateful Thursday morning when she did this while wondering what the hell she was doing. Rosina didn't have any of those doubts, it seemed. This morning after she appeared to be completely devoted to Owen and had no regrets or second thoughts about being his Slave. The abrupt change struck Taryn as odd, so she had to speak up and ask her daughter about it.
"How do you feel this morning, dear?" Taryn asked Rosina who still was cooking breakfast, monitoring every detail.
"I feel great, mom, finally at peace," Rosina said with a satisfied smile on her face as she looked at Taryn for a moment and smiled.
"Really, why?" Taryn asked curiously.
"Because there is no more conflict within me; I have accepted what I am." Rosina said with a relieved smile and genuinely looked at peace.
"And what is that?" Taryn asked a might obvious question, but wanted to hear Rosina explain, in her own words. "I am a Slave to Master," Rosina replied with a strange look on her face that she gave to her mother.
"How do you fell about that, dear? Do you regret it? Is it still what you want?" Taryn asked and chuckled inside as she knew that she was beginning to sound like a therapist, rather than a mother.
"I LOVE IT!" Rosina gushed, "I am no longer in pain because of it; you saw in me what I couldn't accept. You got me to see that I couldn't run away from what was ingrained deep within me. Master then broke me, and made me accept what I am, and he forced me to take my rightful place at his feet." Rosina said with a teary-eyed admission of genuine honesty that Taryn couldn't deny.
"But are you really happy as Master's Slave?" Taryn asked, still unable to accept that Rosina could have accepted her servitude to quickly.