It was 5am on Christmas morning.
Krissy woke in his little attic room, stretching his sore limbs as he blinked in the darkness. The chill, damp London air seeped into the room and Krissy's teeth chattered as his breath warmed his face inside the hood.
Mistress had bolted the windows open. "Fresh air will do you good, Krissy!" she proclaimed as she swept out of the room, leaving slave shivering beneath his hessian blankets to spend a restless, uncomfortable night.
Krissy eased himself carefully out of bed. His room was a narrow 8 by 10 cell with a Victorian wood floor as well as a small black iron fireplace. There was no heating in this room to combat the British cold — the most slave could hope for was that the blast from Mistress’s jungle temperature heating and luxurious fires would waft upwards. Slave considered himself lucky to sleep in a bed in a bedroom at all. He dreaded the cage in the basement.
The room still looked quite beautiful.
Streetlamps gave their faint golden light. The darkness mercifully hid the walls which were painted the most humiliating shade of sissy pink. "Three coats, Krissy!" Mistress had commanded. Barbie pink, baby pink, bubblegum pink, rose pink . . . the antithesis of anything that Krissy would ever have chosen before he gave over the control of his life to this woman.
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To be continued.
Mistress
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