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I gulped. It must have been the neighbors outside that prevented him from taking his belt off and whipping me with it. He switched to "nice guy mode" when our neighbors approached us with questions and concerns.
We waited outside for hours. Neighbors drifted through our front yard to discuss the quake, pull out their phones, and repeat the same information about the magnitude and epicenter. Only a couple noticeable aftershocks occurred within that time. As the sun disappeared, Daniel wrapped his arm around me to keep me warm. We got the ok to go back inside. We carefully searched for flashlights, packaged food, water bottles, our phones, and blankets and camped out in the living room once we cleared some space. We both reached for the remote as soon as the power came back on. We watched a local channel that showed the same footage over and over.
Daniel was settled on the couch, eyes getting heavy and closing. The adrenaline was pumping for me. But when there wasn't any more information being discussed, I finally moved to the smaller couch and curled up to sleep.
I woke to the sound of a trash bag puffing up and saw Daniel holding it open to start shoving things inside.
"Good morning, Daniel." I shrunk under the sinister glare he gave me. "I mean, good morning...Sir?" It was acceptable enough for he turned away to toss more broken junk in the bag. I hurried away to take a piss, but he called to me as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Find your collar, and bring it to me." My stomach turned, and my mouth went dry. I knew it wasn't going to be a play session. I was in it deep. I wanted to beg for forgiveness and have him hold me after going through such a traumatic experience. That wasn't going to happen any time soon.
I climbed over the debris and quickly freshened up in the bathroom. I removed the collar from the hanger in his closet and returned to the living room. Head and eyes down, I gave him the collar and my freedom.
"Undress." I stripped off my clothes, the first part of losing my rights. "Kneel, slave." It hurt when he called me that. He reserved that word for when he was truly pissed at me. The way he said it, with disdain and anger, was enough for me to burst into tears. The loving man faded into the cruel Master I feared. He crouched down and buckled the leather to my neck. "I can't believe your stupidity. Where was your head when you decided it was a brilliant idea to lock yourself up? If you can't think straight, I'll do the thinking for you." He stood. I shrunk lower to the ground. "You are in no position to have any freedom until I forgive you. Prostrate now, slave."
I lay on my stomach before him, palms down and in front of my head, arms at ninety degree angles. My forehead rested on the dirty floor. I was in total submission and ready to cry.
"You will ask permission for everything. You will serve me and be completely obedient. You lost your privilege to walk, so you must clean all of this on your knees. If you have to reach for something higher than yourself, you may stand but must never take a step. Understand, slave?"
"One infraction, no matter how big or small, means twenty-four hours in the dungeon with additional punishments. You're lucky I'm not whipping you now. Cleaning up this place should be punishment enough, and I mean SHOULD. That can change. Get to work."
When I heard him leave, I slowly moved onto my knees. No breakfast, no shower. I didn't know how I would survive that day. I grabbed the nearly empty trash bag and started putting things in it. I went to work, weary and hungry. I heard him speaking on the phone. From listening to his side of the conversation, I understood that it was best for him to stay home, that his office was trashed. At that moment, I wished he went to work just to avoid his wrath.
It was hours later when came up to me. I lay before him again. "I don't trust any food in the fridge because of the electricity being off, so we'll have peanut butter sandwiches. You will have one and in the dog bowl."