What a relief to be back in the warm, bright, makeup room! True, Mr Crazy-Sadist-Master had followed me in, not looking any more genial than normal, but I couldn’t see evidence of any torture equipment in here, and I was hoping for food…
Perhaps I’d pleaded him in our previous encounter, because he readily agreed when I asked if I could eat something. Sure, he placed the delicious looking Mexican wrap on the floor rather than the table, but I was kind of expecting that. I was actually happy, even grateful, until I realised he had no intention of unfastening my hands from behind my back, where they were cuffed.
Maybe, compared to what I’d already been through, it shouldn’t have bothered me too much, but being faced with yet more evidence of his lack of regard for me was really too much. Refusing his ludicrous offer to feed me by hand (what did he think I was, his pet rabbit?) I knelt forlornly on the floor and looked at the sandwich. It looked lovely, and I was starving. I couldn’t be sure he’d give me another chance to eat, and with only a hazy idea of the horrors that might lie in wait, it seemed stupid to miss an opportunity to enjoy something. But could I bear to eat off the floor, again, using only my mouth? I looked up at him; he was watching me. He looked delighted.
Swallowing fury, I brought myself to speak to him. Having got his permission, I struggled to pick my plate up and balance it on a stool. Facing completely away from him, I tried to imagine I was anywhere but here, and started eating….
Having accepted this crazy position for the time being, what followed was a curiously peaceful interlude. The sandwich was indeed delicious, and being made to eat it extra slowly made it seem even more so. Yes, I’d have preferred not to be kneeling on the floor with my hands secured behind me, but it was heavenly to be comfortable and warm; and not having any choices to make, or polite conversation to be responsible for was weirdly relaxing…..
Naturally when I finished eating, he demanded that I wash up, before being made to sit in the corner in silence. Did he untie my hands for this? Well, what do you think?
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