His Slave

11. Agreement

"I don't need to be tamed," I reply, glaring at him.

"Everyone else seems to think so," he replies simply. 

"Well, everyone seems to think they're better off making my decisions for me also," I spit back. 

He only smirks in response. "Erin, you know very little about this world. You think you would be able to fend for yourself, but you wouldn't last a day out there," he tells me, his violet eyes glistening in the fluorescent light.

I want to scream at him that he's wrong. But I know he isn't. When I say nothing else, James continues. 

"There are men out there, who, when given the opportunity, would kidnap you and do terrible things to you," he says. 

I scoff. "And how are you any different?" I ask, throwing my hands out. "Isn't that what you want me for?" 

James frowns. "Contrary to popular belief, I want you for your companionship. My parents are gone most of the time and I have no siblings and very few friends. I'm lonely, Erin," he tells me, staring down at the table. His eyes are filled with sadness. 

"Really?" I ask, surprised by his answer. 

He nods slowly, not meeting my gaze. "I'll be the first to admit that at some point I will take your virginity, but I want you for your companionship, not just sex," he replies. 

"You disgust me," I hiss in response because I don't know what else to say. 

James shakes his head, frowning at me. "You're so scared of something so natural. Honestly, it's pathetic." He brushes a strand of my hair out of my face. 

"There is nothing natural about keeping someone as your sex slave!" I spit back, pulling away from him. 

"The debt program has been running for a long time. Personal slaves are essentially sex slaves. Everyone knows and it is completely legal. And considering that the debt program has been around for more than a hundred years, I would say it is completely natural," he counters, brushing his lips against my ear. "Slave," he whispers possessively, sensually. I can feel the warmth beginning to spread through my core. 

"I-I'm not your slave," I stutter, hating these strange feelings welling up inside of me. "Don't call me that."   

James chuckles softly, sliding his fingers under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You are my slave, Erin. Accept it," he whispers tenderly, causing an icy shiver to crawl down my spine.

His words seem to pull me into a trance. "No," I whisper back. "I won't accept it," I reply, shaking myself from his trance. 

"You will soon enough," James replies, sounding more sure of himself than I've ever heard him before. 

I scoff. "I highly doubt it," I retort as the cook brings us our food. She hurries back into the kitchen, probably because she doesn't want to hear what we're talking about it. I can't blame her. 

"Didn't they ever teach you respect?" He asks, glancing sidelong at me as he takes a bite of his sandwich. "At that slave training they forced you through years ago, I mean," he adds between bites. 

I nod after a moment of hesitation, wishing he hadn't brought that up. It's the last thing I want to remember. "Debtor training," I correct, swallowing a bite of my own sandwich. "And yes they did. Well, they tried to teach me respect." I shrug. "I guess their training just didn't stick. Not really cut out for this whole slave thing," I ramble on, purposefully trying to piss him off.

James narrows his eyes at me, his lips drawn into a thin, disapproving line. "Do you actually think before you speak?" He asks, injuring my pride. 

"That little six week training? That was pathetic. It was nothing compared to what I'm capable of." He's so sure of himself that he makes me believe it too. 

I meet his gaze as terror shoots through me. Not from his words, but from how they make me feel. I am... intrigued by his darkness. 

"By the time I'm through with you, you won't only be cut out for the whole slave thing," he says, using my own words against me. He leans in close, our noses only centimeters apart.  "You'll enjoy every part of it," he adds in that low, dangerous tone of his that makes my stomach twist into knots.

My heart begins to pound faster inside my chest. "No," I stutter, shaking my head. "You're wrong," I say, trying to convince myself more than him. 

James lets out a breathy laugh but says nothing else in response. He continues eating but I'm too shaken up to eat anymore. I hate that I'm defenseless against him. He can get to me so easily. Once he's finished eating he pushes his plate back, turning to me again. 

"Since you admitted that you were wrong, I'll give you one more chance. If you will agree to play by my rules, I won't punish you for running from me," James says, folding his arms over his chest. "How does that sound?" 

I sigh. The last thing I want to do is agree to his sick plans, but I don't want to get punished, either. His punishments could be horrendous. Course, he's probably going to do horrendous things to me anyways. But maybe if I agree to follow his rules I can gain his trust and then I'll be able to escape easier. It just might work. Finally, I nod. 

"Alright. I'll follow your rules," I say, feigning a fearful expression. "Just don't punish me."

James nods approvingly, a devilish smirk plastered across his lips. "Good girl," he whispers to me. His words cause the knots in my stomach to tighten. 

"So, where do we start?" I ask nervously, needing the distraction from my own feelings. 

James smiles wide, that evil, seductive smile that makes my heart beat a little faster. "You can start by addressing me as Master."