Chapter SevenMy Lady was so amused by my performance as her car seat that she decided to reduce me to other objects in her home and life as a regular part of my enslavement to her. At night, I was still her caged animal, sleeping naked in my cage, but the days and evenings held any number of further humiliations.There were simple ones, like the long evening I spend stripped and painted the colour of deep wood, on all fours with a slab of glass balanced on my back, while My Lady sat nearby. She would set nearly full glasses of wine on the tabletop to test my stillness, with a clear and unspoken punishment waiting for me should a single drop spill.My flesh still jumps with the memory of the long dinner spent as Her centerpiece and candelabra. Bound out on my back, stretched tight to the four corners, my hands held long candles. Another was pushed into my mouth. As well, shocking pools of wax held others on my chest, stomach and thighs. I had to hold myself still, even as they burned,. ’ He gently pushed her off of his lap. Michele felt cold as she watched him go. He returned shortly with a small pile of bedding. ‘I brought you a t-shirt,’ he said, holding it out, ‘I thought you might like something to sleep in. The washroom’s second door down. You’ll find a fresh toothbrush in the drawer.’ Michele took the t-shirt, smiling a little in thanks, but still not wanting to say much. She was afraid she’d start crying again. Michele padded down the hall to the bathroom, its light shining in the hallway. Not thinking, she left the door open as she entered. It was again, neat and tidy, like everything else she had seen of Gene. An old fashioned straight razor, comb, toothbrush and paste were lined up with military precision at one side of the white tile counter. They lay on a navy cloth beside a shaving mug. Beside that, turned up on its end was the shaving brush, and a small bottle of aftershave. There was a small bar of Irish Spring soap in a blue container. Michele opened.
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