Without a doubt she is clingy.
I wouldn't notice if I wasn't looking for it. I might even be praising her for her steps in the right direction in terms of mental recovery. Psychology was not a major part of my doctorate but I would have thought she had valued herself enough to be comfortable standing next to me and trusted me enough not to abuse the small bits of comfort she takes from me.
That initial assumption would not have entirely been correct.
Were I a younger man without my current outlook I'd likely be completely oblivious to her newfound attachment to me. Whether it was out of gratitude for not being a complete dastard like her previous owners or an overflow of repressed emotion I cannot say. I do however find her eagerness for physical contact… unnerving.
So I told her out right about her situation.
"I know that I technically own you but I think I should make it clear by now. You are not a slave here. At worst I'd consider you a servant, or a roommate. I haven't exactly been clear on what you should be doing here, and it is my fault."
I had faltered when dealing with Sylvie at first. Her main concern was securing a place to stay, using methods that had only worked with her previous owners. I made myself an exception and hadn't clarified our relationship from the start using half-hearted measures to handle the situation because it was uncomfortable to address her clearly damaging past.
"I-is that so?"
"It is. I've been a bit reluctant to bring it up… but I feel as though it would be better for your peace of mind to know now."
"R-right. Thank you for being so patient with me. But may I ask a question of you?"
"Of course." I replied immediately.
"You won't do anything terrible to me right?" Before I even thought to answer that question she continued as if she felt the need to explain herself. "Before I came here, every day was painful for me. No matter how I reacted whether I laughed or cried, my treatment was always the same. Always terrible and painful, and I couldn't do anything but accept it."
Given the problematic situation she came from it's not hard to wonder why she would be hesitant to ask for anything.
"So I didn't feel sadness, as long as I didn't hope, I couldn't despair when something bad would happen. I didn't think about how awful everything was or curse my former masters, because I thought nothing good would ever happen. Even when I came here and you didn't do anything bad to me I couldn't bear to have hope. If I did, and you weren't what I thought you were, I'd…" She stopped herself swallowing the built up anxiety that had built up.
She'd snap under the pressure. Whether she'd kill me in my sleep or herself in her despair I have no idea. If anything, I think I avoided a rather close call, for both me and her. She was a hair's breadth away from dying and I barely avoided having her take me with her.
She shuddered before speaking again. "I suppose what I'm asking you, is can I put my trust in you."
Once again this isn't a situation I can't afford to take lightly. If I so much as hint that I'm someone she can't put her faith in, she's gone. I can see it, she's already admitted as much, and this heavy atmosphere wouldn't allow for even a tasteless joke about how no one is truly trustworthy.
More than anything she wants someone she can put her trust in.
"I won't betray your trust like that. Never." I said solemnly, making sure to look directly at her.
"Then I'll trust in your words. Thank you very much. And I apologize for ignoring your kindness for so long."
"As long as you're okay, it really is no trouble."
This might have been a step in the right direction.
Much like the development before, our relationship had stabilized further. Her tone had audibly softened giving it a sort of airy feeling. Expressions of happiness, once tense and stifled, were now awkward and shaky. She sometimes frowned but actively worked at not doing so. She resembled an actual person rather than the hopeless puppet brought to my doorstep, and now she actually somewhat expresses her wants and desires.
What MIGHT not be such a great sign was her want for more physical intimacy.
While she hasn't quite said out loud she has perked up a bit when it happens, sometimes pushing into it as if it would grant her some higher form of pleasure. She enjoys it as much as I do, maybe even moreso.
"I wish to be of some use to you by having this done."
"It's quite alright, as long as you're okay with this then that's all that matters."
"But what kind of reaction are you looking for?"
"The one that belongs to you, and whatever makes you happy."
At the end of the day I could have died from embarrassment after saying that out loud. It's even worse since she had blushed and stuttered quite a bit afterwards, not really saying much for the rest of the night. She wasn't wary at all but I would have stopped had she not pressed against me silently as I reluctantly slowed and started pulling away.
Her recent request to once again rest in my bed was distressing but I had allowed it, again the sheer amount of trust she put in me was unnerving, and though I swore to always be good to her having this much trust in someone… it felt wrong to me. Again I had trouble falling asleep that night this time being restless enough to oversleep a bit.
Sylvie had woken up before me, having even had the courtesy to bring breakfast to my bed. A plate of eggs, bacon and toast. A simple breakfast, but one that can almost never go wrong.
"It isn't much, and I might be out of practice…" she had admitted to me. "But I hope it's good enough for you."
An earnest want to please me, how could it not touch my heart? Why would it not draw an honest smile out of me? "Thank you Sylvie."
The blushing smile she gave me, "I-if you wouldn't mind… would it be fine if I could keep sleeping in here from time to time?" and the way she made such a request.
It told me that I shouldn't have done it, but I agreed to her request.
Yet her slightly positive attitude became absolutely glowing. I should be happy that I made such a positive change in her life. But the kind of change that I made, the way it's happening. I'm not sure I could be okay with how it's all progressing.
She looks forward to going out to buy clothes, visiting the cafe or simply basking in my quiet presence after a long tiring day. She thought highly of me, and actively seems to want to please me, no longer to beg for her life, but to thank me for aiding her in ways she's needed for a very long time.
It's an appreciation I don't know what to think of.
More and more often I find myself forgetting that I was supposed to be a slave, that I live above my station.
It's a thought I had reminded myself of constantly when I had arrived not so long ago. But now I can hardly think to remember any time before now.
I have clothes, a bed, warm blankets to cuddle in at night, a Master who cares for me. I'm allowed to ask for more and receive no punishment for it.
If there really is a God in Heaven, then surely he's given me a piece of it here in this world. In this house. What else could it be, when I am allowed to say, it's okay for me not to be a slave.
And then he would pat my head and saying that I was just as deserving of freedom as he is.
Although it irritates me slightly to be treated like such a child at times, I can't help but love how large and warm his hands are. How they'll always protect me. This warmth that I've never felt until now.
"I never thought I would think contact with someone would be so nice, " I sighed leaning into it more. "To think I was scared of it until recently."
"You were very tense when you first got here. Frightened of everyone as well.
"If I'm to be honest, I still get nervous at the thought of being alone without you." I confessed shuffling in place a bit. "Being around others, it makes me want to hide away until I'm safe with you again."
He would then stiffen and go silent but continue on as if I hadn't said anything.
Disheartening but he never once reprimanded me for my words. I can only take comfort in the fact that he has not rejected me.
But occasionally he'll respond, slower, and in a softer tone than I am used to hearing. "I'm glad to be here for you."
As he pat my head, my worries that had once been temporarily eased by the action had now melted away.
He would always be there for me. His kindness and his warmth. If I laugh or cry, he wouldn't turn me away. I may have misunderstood his words, but when it matters he's always kind and warm to the touch. I want him to always be my kind and warm master.
As the days go by I can't help but think I can't live without his warmth. Thoughts of him warn cold nights and leave me craving for more. I couldn't help but want to now more, to have more of him, and for him to know I would give everything for him.
It was most likely around this time when the dreams started to happen.