The Path to Her

Chapter Eight

Once we removed my restraints, Dahlia bathed me with gentle hands. She spoke little as she did, and I spoke not at all. I was learning quickly to speak only when spoken to. She gave me soft directions—"Lift up for me, that's a good girl."—and this praise lifted me up. I gave her a look of devotion, and she nodded. "When your mistress provides aftercare for you, that look on your face is the one you need to give her. Remember that."

Serena helped dry me, and Dahlia replaced my restraints. She sent Serena away soon after the slave was finished drying me. Then, Dahlia wrapped me in a soft robe, and led me to the bed. "Are you tired?" She asked me, and I nodded. "You are permitted to sleep for a short time. I will return and wake you." She helped me into bed. "Sleep is all you are permitted to do. Learn that my words are your law. Don't forget the lesson of this morning so quickly."

I shook my head. Even after a warm bath with a soft touch, I could feel the sting and power of Dahlia's spanking. Thinking about it made my heart skip a beat.

Dahlia did not give me any more sweetness. She turned and left abruptly, and I snuggled into the blankets of my bed until I made a proper nest. I didn't know what was planned for the remainder of the day, I only knew that I should get the rest I was allotted whilst I could.

When Dahlia woke me, she did so with praise. "Every direction of mine you follow is a step further on the path to her. Do not forget. Now. Out of bed." She smacked my rear with a resounding slap.

She was dressed exotically. She wore knee high, spike-heeled black leather boots, and a tightly corseted black form fitting outfit. Her arms were covered with leather bracers and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. Her breasts were covered. I knew that Dahlia meant business. She had accentuated her collar with the flower that was her namesake, and she looked beautiful, if dangerous. "Where is your place, Rowan?" She asked.

I quickly scurried to my pillow and knelt.

"Good girl," Dahlia said. "Remove your robe."

I let it slide from my shoulders, but remembered to fold it.

"Hold it in your arms and offer it up. This robe is a privilege to wear. Do you understand, Rowan? Answer me."

Those two words, answer me, hit like a slap. "I understand, ma'am," I said humbly, offering up the folded robe.

"Your eyes should be averted," Dahlia commanded. "Never look your mistress in the eye until she asks it of you. She is your owner, your empress, your goddess, and you will treat her as such. Now stand, and settle that robe on your pillow. Since it has touched you, and there is nowhere to place it, place it on your pillow."

"Yes, ma'am," I offered, and when I stood, I placed the robe delicately on my pillow.

"You will learn that there are different items that you will use as a slave. These are items specifically to mark you as her slave. It can be anything from silverware to dress." Dahlia led me to the middle of the room, right in front of that curious mirror. She hooked both of my wrists together, and lifted them above my head. I was attached to a harness hanging from the ceiling, and suddenly, I felt extremely vulnerable.

"What a sight you are," Dahlia said fondly. "I know your mistress will be besotted."

I gave her a worried look, but she just chuckled. "Rest assured, Rowan, you're going to enjoy what your mistress has planned for you tonight."

"Am I going to meet her?" I couldn't stop myself from blurting it out.

Dahlia raised her brows. "Speaking without permission, are we?"

I bit my bottom lip. "Sorry, ma'am."

Dahlia smiled and reached around, smacked my rear smartly. "I forgive you this time. No, you shall meet your mistress when you graduate. Your mistress is too busy with her daily life to mull over every second of your training, or to be here personally. Don't think so highly of yourself."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Truthfully I am glad you spoke out of turn," said Dahlia, moving out of my line of sight. I faced the mirror, trying to see where she was going. She dug through a drawer and pulled out a bar gag. "I wanted to gag you, anyway."