The Path to Her

Chapter Sixteen

"Dahlia?" I asked hesitantly, as my Trainer bathed me with gentle hands.

"I will permit informal talk for a short time," she said as she rubbed linament into my wrists. "What do you wish to ask me?"

"What did my mistress think? Of earlier?"

"She was very pleased with you, and how far you've come. You've been here for some time, and she's eager to claim you. But your transition will be slow, as you are going to begin a new phase in your life. It will require mental fortitude from you."

"What do you mean?"

"You and I shall part ways, which shall be a sad but joyous affair." Dahlia stroked my hair and pressed a kiss against my temple. "I think of all the slaves I have trained, you are my favorite. I have treated you with extra tenderness because of it."

"Thank you, my Trainer," I said, flushing hot.

"We will begin letting your owner come and have her way with you when she wants, and when she approves of your training in full, you will graduate," Dahlia continued bathing me, her roving hands leaving no part of me untouched. "You will graduate wearing nothing but your collar, in order to accentuate the only thing that matters to you. Your owner will provide you with the clothes you'll wear for the rest of your life. Once you leave the Auction House, the only time you would ever see it again is if your mistress dies without having willed you to another."

"May I ask another question?"

"Speak."

"Does she really make milk?"

"She does. Everyone has their fetishes. Hers happens to be breast-related. She wanted a slave who would respond well to it, who enjoyed breast worship as much as she."

I smiled. "Well—yes. That was on my list of likes."

"Certainly! It's one of the main reasons you were paired together. The Auction would never put you in the hands of a mistress who didn't match your desires. Consent is in everything we do here." Dahlia massaged my shoulders, pushing out tension with practiced touch. "That's the cornerstone of this business, you know. Consent is everything."

"What—what kinds of fetishes have you seen before?"

"I could talk your pretty head off with all the various things I've seen at play here. The stories I could tell you. Your mistress's fetish is tame compared to some of the delights the Auction House provides." Dahlia chuckled. "You're charming informal conversation easily from me, Rowan. This is disarming, yet good. Give your mistress this kind of attention and conversation. I guarantee she shall like it."

"I thought a slave should only talk when spoken to?"

"You knew well enough to ask to speak, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You read the room?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You charmed me into speaking out of comfort. That not only gives your mistress a sign that you want to know her intimately, but also signifies that you're paying attention to her moods. It also shows who you are." Dahlia began pouring warm water over me. "You want to show her you have personality worth valuing."

"I do have one worth valuing!"

"Precisely." Dahlia leaned in close, and kissed my neck, reaching her hand around, snaking it across my belly...and lower. "Now give me a little of this rosebud. I want to caress it."