First: A story featuring a male keeper and a female Kept.
The wagon rumbled on. Mélanie stared at her Owner and tried to decipher something from his expression. His eyes were closed. Sometimes he muttered into the gag, but it was nothing that made any sense. Sometimes his eyes fluttered open, but he didn’t look at her.
Possibly, he was still drugged enough that he thought he’d imagined her there. Possibly, he was drugged enough that he was seeing pink elephants and purple unicorns and hadn’t seen her at all.
She didn’t know. So she waited and listened and hoped, held her breath with a Working sitting right on the tip of her tongue in case there was enough of a distraction, praying that Jasper would trust her and let her do what she had to or that, if his plan was already in action, her plan wouldn’t interfere with his in any bad manner.
She hadn’t been walking that long, had she? She resisted the urge to look up, to twist around to look bout between the brutes’ feet. Even if she could see the road without getting noticed, she didn’t know the area well enough to recognize any landmarks. She thought, though, that they ought to be almost there.
A groan from Jasper almost made her jump – it was loud, pained, distressed. She bit her tongue and held still. Continue reading