Christmas Captive

That night, it was a week since I'd made her come with my mouth on her sweet little cunt, and I was eager to have more of her. We were sitting down to dinner again, and my toy was unusually quiet, unwilling to meet my eyes. I asked her question after question, but only received one-word answers in response. I understood she was lonely, but this was no way for a kept pet to act, and I was going to tell her as much.

Her knife made scratching noises against the china as she ate, the only sound in the quiet room.

"Are we going to spend some time together tomorrow?" she asked, making me look up at her.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are we going to spend some time together tomorrow, Sir?" she asked, the hint of snarkiness obvious in her voice.

"If I can find the time," I replied, returning to my food.

I could feel her staring at me, but I refused to acknowledge it. She was being a very bad toy, and I couldn't tolerate her misbehaving.

"You're neglecting me." Her voice was defiant, tinted with sadness.

"How so?"

"I've been alone this whole time." She put down her fork and crossed her arms, glaring at me. "You don't even pay attention to me anymore. What's the point of paying all this money to keep me if you aren't even doing anything with me?"

"That's not a question you should ask," I told her plainly. "I don't appreciate you meddling in my affairs, Amicia."

"I'm not meddling," she hissed. "I'm just wondering what I've done to upset you this much."

"Upset me? You haven't upset me."

"But you don't even look at me anymore!" she cried out, sweeping her arm over the table, and knocking over her own plate. We both watched as the porcelain crashed to the ground, breaking into pieces and slivers of white, shiny material. Amicia's lower lip trembled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

I didn't respond, just rubbed my temples. "That wasn't a wise thing to do, Amicia."

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing does.”

"Nothing?" I'd had enough. She'd pushed my limits long enough. "Apologize."

"Apologize, to you?" she laughed bitterly. "No, I don't think I will."

"Apologize," I demanded again, glaring at her. "Now."

She seemed to understand I was serious, and she got the word out through gritted teeth. "Sorry."

"Apologize properly."

"I'm sorry, Sir." She was angry now, and I knew it would soon be time for me to discipline her. "It's just a plate. And it seems like the damn thing matters more to you than I do."

I gritted my teeth together as I stared her down. "It's not just a plate. It was part of my mother's dowry. It's been in our family for generations. As for your second accusation, Kitty, I'm sure you know just as well as I do, you're wrong. You're my property, just like the plate. And you sure aren't acting like it, which I don't like."

My words shut her up, and her lips formed a line as she stood up, getting on her knees, and scooping up the pieces of the broken plate.

"Leave it," I demanded, but she paid me no mind, still sweeping up the broken porcelain. The inevitable happened moments later and she hissed, a long slit opening on her left ring finger, blood dripping all over the hardwood floor.

I kneeled next to her, and she sheepishly allowed me to wrap a silk handkerchief embroidered with my initials around her hand. I stopped the bleeding and guided her back to her chair.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, and she shook her head, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Not anymore."

"It's not too deep, so it shouldn't need stitches," I muttered, and Kitty nodded. "Amicia."

Finally, she looked up at me. From my tone, she seemed to realize I was angry, and she shrank back in fear, as if she were afraid I was going to slap her.

"You disobeyed me," I reminded her. "You broke a prized possession and hurt yourself in the process. You do understand you need to be punished, don't you, Kitty?"

She nodded; her eyes boring into mine. The fear was there, making her terrified, and making me wonder how she'd been punished before she'd met me.

"I'm not going to hurt you permanently," I promised her. "You have my word. But I cannot allow you to act this way, as if my orders mean nothing at all. Do you understand, Kitty?"

"Yes, Sir," she managed to get out.

"Now," I went on. "Will you tell me why you've been so upset over the past few days?"

"I..." She swallowed. I knew she didn't want to admit she was starting to feel things for me, and I also knew I shouldn't have been pushing her, because I had nothing to offer her in return for her feelings. Yet I couldn't help myself. I was the sadistic prick who wanted everything from her, giving nothing back. "I've been feeling lonely. You've been very busy."