He had been walking for quite a while now, the rain showing no signs of letting up. The last week he had felt weaker and weaker. He guessed he was getting sick, but it didn't seem to matter. As long as he still had the strength to move he would.
The autumn had finally arrived, the leafs changing colors, and the shrill cries from the birds migrating troubled him, creating a wild longing in him too.
Even without any clear goal for his travel, and of lately without much money too, making him and it all almost imaginary, he still had this need to move on. As if searching for something, but for what he couldn't say.
He woke up sometime later in a water filled ditch. why he was laying there he couldn't figure out, but the cold didn't seem so bad any more. He reckoned he just could lay back and rest a little before moving on.
Then he heard footsteps running, as if someone was hurrying to see what had happened. A pair of strong hands helped him up, lifting of his rucksack, and as he came up from the ditch he started to shiver uncontrollably.
"What on earth do you think you're doing, sleeping in a water-filled ditch? Are you mad?"
"Mum he's sick. Look at him." He tried to focus on what they were saying but their voices seemed to come and go, and he started to fold up again. She must have been smaller than him but easily strong enough to help him to their car, with her mum taking care of rucksack. She put him on the backseat but not before her mum had laid a plaid over it.
"You smell awful, do you know that? And now we have a problem more. I'll just have to take you in, but you better behave, you hear."
Then he fell down into a darkness not remembering a thing until he woke up in a small but comfortable looking room. It seemed to be on the upper floor of the building as he could see tree crowns outside the window, their vibrant autumn colors gleaming as frozen flames against the waning light.
He couldn't remember how he had gotten into the bed but it didn't matter, it was warm and comfortable and smelled slightly from violets, or was it soap? And he felt clean, for the first time in weeks. Somebody had given him a wash.
It smelt safe somehow he concluded after in vain searching for the right definition. Suddenly he realized that he needed a toilet, badly. As he stood up to walk he found that he sadly had misjudged his condition.
He found himself on knees and hands, feeling rather silly in fact, as if he was some sort of long distance runner preparing for the start. As he was trying to collect his strength for a new try he heard the door open.
He looked up, feeling immensely clumsy as he saw a exasperated young girl look down on him. "And where do we think we are going then?" She asked, her dainty hands on her hips.
"The bathroom?" He muttered questioningly, feeling even more stupid.
But she seemed to understand. She nodded in a almost businesslike sort of way, sharply telling him. "Stay here."
Disappearing to appear almost immediately with what looked most as some strange chair on wheels. She put in the corner, and then went over to him to help him up. She was strong for her size he noticed, reminding him of the hands that had helped him up from the ditch.
"Sit still." She said as she got him into the chair. As he waited for her to start rolling him to the toilet she just stood there beside him, impatiently drumming her fingers.
"Didn't you need a toilet?" He nodded. "Well, there you are." Pointing at the contraption he was sitting on. Suddenly he realized that this was the toilet, of sorts. The seat had a hole to it and under there was a bedpan placed. He flushed a little as he looked at her.
"Thanks, I'll handle it from here." He tried to assure her. She still refused to leave, just looking, as if waiting for him to go. "Look, what's your name?"
"Sandra. I'll do just fine. But I can't when you're looking."
She seemed to understand. but then she asked. "And you're going to do it in your pants?"
'Pants?' what the hell was she talking about? As he looked down he discovered that what he had thought of as his drawers in fact was, just that. A pair of black cotton panties. Suddenly mortified he desperately tried to get them of him, forgetting all about her, when her little hands appeared out of nowhere efficiently helping them off.
"There, I'll leave you now. There's tissues beside you. You can call me when you're finished, but please, don't miss." And then she left him alone to try to sort it out. As he relieved himself he realized that what he had thought of as his nightshirt in fact was a nightgown, and to small too. 'Hers?' but the panties had to be her mothers.
'I'm dressed like some pornographic nightmare' he thought as he tried to relax. Finally finished he succeeded in getting them up himself. But as he tried to make it back to the bed he only made it halfway. She must have stood just outside listening as she appeared instantly, scolding him like some retarded halfwit.
"Stupid, stupid boy. Now, why didn't you call for me. Don't be so embarrassed, I've already seen all there is. You're my responsibility and, oh, you're hopeless, come here." Still grumbling she half helped, half carried, him to the bed, continuously making the same reprovingly noises as she put him under the covers again, but, all of it in a most professional manner.
After being scolded and put to bed I finally can relax to look at her. She's lovely with her raven black hair and brown eyes in a heart shaped face, looking at me as if I was a naughty child. She seems young and sweet, and even when angry she has this friendly bemused, although now slightly imperious, smile while she studies me.
"Listen and learn my mum use to say, and don't be ashamed to ask for help."
"Where is my clothes Sandra?"
"Mum is washing them, those that's whole. We threw away most though, they stank. Be still now so I can." Then she starts to fix with my nightshirt, smoothing it out, and as her hands moves over me, light as butterflies, I feel myself redden. "There." She says sounding satisfied, fondly patting my stomach.
She smiles at me. "Now you look nice."
"Well, we tried to pick boyish things but it was difficult. I let you have my old nightgown, it's a little small but, look, we're having a matched set" she points at her nightgown, still letting her hand rest on my tummy, making a soothing circular motion, as if to calm like some frightened beast while she observes my reactions.
If I like her nightgown? I realize that she wears one just like me, but where mine is black hers is a weak powder blue. "We look like sisters." she tells me as her smile gets wider. Noticing me move away a little she press her hand on my stomach, arresting my motion. "Be still Treasure, I'm not dangerous." Trying to calm me.
"Treasure?" What does she mean?
Feeling slightly embarrassed I can't help but smile with her. Of course she isn't dangerous. It's just me, being nervous that her mother might show up, seeing us this intimate. She is sitting so near me now that I can literary feel her body heat and her smell is just like the bed, violets and soap. She looks at me serenely, seriously. And suddenly I can see the woman she will become. And I can't help it, I'm taken with my vision.
"You're mine." She says looking at me as if I'm some sort of gift from the Gods.
I wait for the revelation, but with none forthcoming I carefully ask, feeling quite perplexed. "I am? And how came that to be Sandra?"
"Mum said that in Japan, if you save someone from killing themselves, they will become your responsibility." She looks at me becoming even more serious.
"And that's what you were doing, wasn't it."
I'm starting to deny it but looking into her eyes I find that I don't really know. And also that I don't want to lie to her, ever. Was that what it had been about? It didn't felt like it then?
"I don't know Sandra, I hope not." I answer, feeling her breath on my face as I look in her serious brown eyes, just inches away from me as they search mine.
She nods as if satisfied with my answer. Then she smiles widely again remembering.
"Mum said we would work out fine. She said you seemed even more stubborn than me. Do you know what Mum called you?"
"She said you're my treasure."
Well, that explains the name at least. It makes me smile hearing her so earnestly declare me her treasure. It seemed as it was Sandra who saw my rucksack sticking up from the ditch, and her that made her mother stop to look. After helping getting me up the room her mum had left me in her care. I want to ask her who it was that washed me, but as I look at her I just know.
"So you think I'm yours then Sandra?" I ask as I look down at her, smiling, sitting so innocently in her blue dress, smelling faintly of soap, summer and laughter.
She nods. "You are, Treasure."
I don't really know how to respond to that name, it makes me feel weird. "And you Sandra, are you ready for me?"
She nods, serious. "I think so."
I can't get a grip on her, just as I think I understand her she throws me another one. "Sandra, I'll be an old man while you still are young."
She smiles at that, and I know I'm exaggerating a little, but there is a age difference here and I want her to stop dreaming about me. She should be dreaming of some boy band, or dolphins, something? Not me.
"Mum told me that I would learn a lot, and that you seems badly in need of learning too."
And there she does it again, making me lose my thread.
"Sandra listen, you're very sweet, and I'm sure your mum is nice too. But I've been my own man for a long time now. And even if I wanted, we would still have to wait. You still have some growing to do Sandra."
Now she's hurt and her hand who until then has flirted with my tummy suddenly stops. "You're free to leave whenever you want. " she tells me with the utmost dignity. "and I'm sorry if my age offends you." Then she reconsiders.
"I still think you should stay though, but if you want to leave?" Now clearly upset, her eyes filling with tears as she stands up. "Mum says that everyone has their own free will. I'll go tell her."
"Wait Sandra, please, come back." She hesitantly comes back.
"I'm sorry, I'll stay as long as you like. As you said, I think I'm your responsibility. I'm just a little freaked out by it all. Waking up here dressed like this. Do you think your responsibility would include something to eat?"
She smiles through her tears. "Yes it does, wait here, and yes, Mum wants to see you too."
Then she runs away, leaving me alone. I try to make some sense of it but fails miserably. It could be some feverish dream of course but it seems so real?
After waiting quite a while, finally dozing of in the comfortable bed, Sandra's mother comes in. She seems vaguely oriental in her ways but comfortably Caucasian in her looks. With the same lovely serene smile as her daughter and wise gray eyes. As if she had seen more than she cared to remember.
"Hi Treasure." She says.
"Uh, it's James in fact?" I corrected her reluctantly not wanting to offend.
She shook her head. "No dear, your James is dead and gone. He died in that ditch sweetie. You're Sandra's treasure now, you two really need to sort it out, the sooner the better." She sits down at my side still smiling a little. "Sandra gave you something of her own to save you boy, and that makes you bounded, you will learn. She nods as if to herself as she feels my brow.
"Turn over Treasure, I need to take your temperature."
I have to admit to them both being bossy, but she is quite businesslike about it, pulling down the panties and putting in the thermometer in one smooth movement, although the little caressing pat takes me by surprise, all the while talking soothingly to me, much in the same manner as Sandra had done before.
"Sandra has waited a long time for someone nice Treasure. You and her will both have to get to know each other and learn to trust."
"Ma'am, she's much to young for me." I try, feeling cold sweat breaking out.
She smile hearing me. "I think you'll find her grown enough, Treasure."
She studies me thoughtfully while lightly letting her finger track my spine. "Oh, make no mistake Treasure, you're hers now. You're bounded with her and her demands will become your wishes, whether you want it or not." Then she turns track on me again.
"And James dear, it will be so much better on you both if you just accept it. Fighting will only make you both tired feeling sorry for yourselves. Also, as you thought, you're the one mature, so even when she thinks she leads, you will still be able to guide. Can you see what I mean James?"
"Mum." Comes a complaining voice. "You're spoiling my fun."
It was Sandra coming back seeing her Mum taking care of Treasure. James who still was trying to get around to the idea of being Sandra's willing subject failed to take notice. He could only shake his head at the preposterous allegation of him having to do her will.
As Sandra's mother saw his disbelief, she sighed and turned to her daughter. "Sandra, I'm sorry dear, but you'll have to show him. He doesn't believe it."
"Mumm." Sandra was blushing "Please, let him be."
"No, he needs to know, and you do too Sandra, what a bounding really is."
Sandra looked at him as if wanting mostly to apologize, as she at last gave after for her mothers wishes. She said hesitatingly.
"Treasure, I don't like those panties, take them of please."
Shaking his head he said. "No way Sandra. And I want my real clothes back."
She smiled, a surprised but satisfied smile.
"No Treasure, that won't do sweetie, be quiet now." Sounding maternal.
Suddenly he realized that he had obeyed even as he told her that he wouldn't. Sandra's mum who understood his sudden feeling of humiliation, laying there all bare unable to speak, smiled sympathetically, showing a slight regret as she explained the situation for him.
"Perhaps it would have been better to let you die in that ditch. I don't know. My Sandra is young and impulsive, and she only wanted to save you. But the result of her attempt is this James. You are truly bonded and your body have accepted certain moulds from her, changing what you call your free will. I'm surprised that it ever worked, we are not of your kin. But remember that this goes both ways and that she can't but love you."
He tried again to make sense of it, looking at the blushing girl beside him, and still finding himself unable to speak. "So," said Sandra's mother as she pulled out the thermometer. "Sandra, he's all yours now. But don't let him up yet, he's still feverish."
She patted him again as she put on him the panties again, pulling down his nightshirt. "Be a good boy now, and don't argue with your nurse, oh you can't, can you." Smiling slightly as if finding it a good joke she turned to her daughter. "And Sandra, get him back under the covers will you"
She left soon after, leaving James a disjointed nervous wreck. 'What are they doing to me?' He felt as a three year old and, and it didn't get any better when Sandra started to feed him the soup, encouraging him with her small exclamations, as. "Such a good boy you are, yes you are, you know you are..." Smiling insanely as he swallowed
For Gods sake, twenty six years old, making it on his own most of his life, well, up until now. But he couldn't stomach making her cry again, and he really didn't enjoy being commanded. So in the end he just smiled back doing as she wanted, hoping for her to let him talk again.
But she seemed to have forgotten all about it. After the food he found himself tired again and started to doze of under her gentle hands. He had strange dreams in which he was sold at a fair as a 'fine mundane specimen' to a young girl. He felt that he should recognize her from somewhere, but couldn't place it at all, although her name had a haunting quality to it.
And just as she led him away there seemed to come someone pushing him hard, and suddenly he was back in that ditch, to weak to get up and with the water streaming over his face. He woke screaming wordlessly. "Shh Treasure, I'm here." a calm voice comforted him from behind.
Feeling someone spooning him he turned around to find Sandra look at him, her serious brown eyes touching his green in a timeless moment. Strangely enough it seemed to work, against all reason he found himself relaxing and feeling, safe? Well, that was a new one to him.
He had always prided himself on being self-sufficient, never allowing situations to go too far. But here he was, in the grip of this mere wisp of a girl, feeling safe? And protected? 'The world's surely up side down' he thought watching her serene smile. He tried to tell her but found himself unable, and as she seemed to realize what he wanted she apologized profusely.
"I'm so sorry Treasure, I'm still getting used to this, you should have told me, ah, you couldn't, could you? Please, speak all you want."
Suddenly the muteness lifted from him and unable to stop himself he took her into his arms holding her as if she was his savior while whispering.
"I dreamt that I was drowning Sandra, and then I woke. And." Suddenly realizing that they were embracing. "What are you doing in my bed? Are you crazy, what if your moth..." Whispering fiercely, stopping when he heard someone coming up the stairs, "Shit! Sandra, hide." Trying to cover her up.
It was Sandra's mother checking upon him. But, seeing them together she just smiled and wished them a good night. Making him stare after her as if the world had gone mad. What was it with those two?
"Mine, not yours." She answered him calmly as she pulled down the sheet he had tried to hid her with. As he looked at her confused she nodded in a gravely manner. "Bed, sweetie." Patting it. "And you're not drowning. You was, but I saved you." She studied his stupefied expression, suppressing a smile.
"Was that all you dreamt about? Tell me all now Treasure, Then you can go back to sleep without worrying your little head." And as he found himself telling her, in great detail and without being able to stop himself, about how he had been judged and prodded by her before she bought him, he started to blush again.
She listened and smiled. she could easily get used to this she though. Seeing him telling it unable to hold anything back from her, and blushing too. It was exhilarating at the same time as it felt perfectly natural to her. Caressing him softly as he finished she said. "Go to sleep now, and no bad dreams this time Treasure." Giving him a kiss on his brow.
Turning around again he found himself quickly falling asleep. There was something very satisfying but also exciting with feeling her warm lithe body spooning his more angular frame. And he just wished that they would have meet under better circumstances.
The last thing he remembered himself thinking was 'Down boy. Down you bastard.' And this time, thankfully having no more bad dreams, that he could remember at least, although belatedly realizing that the sheets probably would need a change tomorrow.
Waking up he found his head resting against her bosom. He guessed that he had turned over in his sleep. At the same time realizing that it would made it somewhat more awkward to hide his, ah, problem, as she and him now was facing each other.
His only hope was that she would find his face too charming to consider the rest of him. And as soon as he had opened his eyes he found this pert little breast pushing at him. And he couldn't stop looking, no matter what his morals told him.
He had seen bigger, but then, on the other hand, he had also seen smaller. And he loved hers, they were so perfectly molded to her, and her tit, so near his mouth, looked just like a little strawberry waiting for him to taste. He found himself increasingly helpless against its alluring charm.
Her arm that had rested around his head drew him closer with her voice mumbling something vaguely happy. He just stayed where he was, now and then blowing at the wet spot he had made on her nightgown, to watch it grow, while breathing in her natural fragrance.
As she woke up she found him still breathing on her tit, sound asleep. She tried to see if he still had a fever but soon she decided it gone. If he would have been awake he would have found that he had a very satisfied young girlfriend at his side, lovingly exploring every inch of his body.
She had waited for this so long. Both she and her mother had originally came from another realm. Shipwrecked on earth by an accidental portal blowout they had been forced to make do with what few resources they had.
Due to her mothers fantasy writing they had made a small income, not that they were mere fantasies though, more like a travel diary. And finally with the help of some lucky investments, primary on the Internets search engines, they were now moderately well off.
But all this time Sandra felt a little empty, as if waiting for something or someone, and yesterday her dreams had came true. She at last had found one suitable for her needs. Her very own mundane, and such a nice one too. Good teeth and a ready smile, and best of all, totally taken with her. Even though he did his best to hide it.
She went lower in her search for perfection. 'Yes, obedient even in his sleep.' she thought pleased as he opened his legs for her to explore closer. "Yuck." She said as she freed her hand from the sticky substance trying to hold her. What was that? The smell was nice though and the taste wasn't bad. Maybe something from the tea her mother had brought them yesterday? Cream perhaps? But why had she spilt it there? Or was it from a cookie?
While seeing to his creature comforts she found the cream more and more to her taste, 'Gotta ask mum if she can get some more', she thought dreamingly as she licked her fingers. She knew she would have fun researching where this relation might take them, she just hoped that he felt the same.
But from her mothers teachings she also had learnt that it might at times become harder than she expected. But for now, he was perfectly perfect. "Treasure sweetie, come on, time to wake." Patting him softly, trying to sound all calm, although failing, miserably.
"Giddyup little horsie." She whispered in his ear biting his earlobe tasting him, already feeling the sweet taste of triumph. Her own little pony, not pink though, but, who cared?
As he woke she was already dressed and leaving to fix their breakfast. And once more he had that perfect morning, feed by a lovely girl listening to her chattering away in the normal brainless way of all females.
"Mum said it was the best way." She told him conspiratorially.
"To tame you."
"Yes, to let you smell me, make you feel safe. It binds us so well Treasure."
James tried to see if she was joking, but she seemed dead serious. Did she really believe that? "And how can you tell if it works?"
She smiled at him and bared a breast.
"Dinner time." He just couldn't stop himself, although he fought back as hard as he could. As he came back up to breath he found his head cradled in her arms, her cooing encouragingly. "Such a good good boy."
"That didn't happen, did it?" He asked unbelievingly.
She smiled down at him and put his mouth closer to the source. "Eat first, talk later." As the magic swept him away once more. Happily occupied he totally missed Sandra's mother arriving to observe the domestic bliss.
"He looks happy, are you happy?" She asked.
"Mmm, yes Mum, I can keep him when we go back, can't I?"
Her mum seemed unsure.
"If we go back young lady. I've found this realm quite interesting of lately. But if we find our way again, and there is place? Yes, why not. But you'll be the one responsible for him if so. And he might have to spend some time in a quarantine first to see that he's healthy. There are rules you know." She added sternly.
Sandra just smiled dreamily as she gently pushed James away changing breast. "But he's so good. And you will help too."
Her mother firmly shook her head. "No, if you're the one picking up strays then you're the one caring for him too." Sandra pouted a little but then started to laugh as she said. "Just you wait Mum." They chatted some more with her mum finally saying.
"I think we will throw away most of his clothes, he looks so more comfortable in those Sandra."
They looked at each other, sharing their secret amusement, before her mother had to leave to take care of her washing.
Askwra the witch hunter woke with a feeling. Not all of his days was like this but today he had this severe hunch that, at last, there was real prey to be found. He had chosen this realm primarily because he found it to be one of the few unspoiled ones left. A decent folk, not as well built as him but organized through the same well known and thought out principles as he himself had grown up under.
As his father once had summarized it. "The good book says. 'Direct thy kisses upwards, and your boots downward.' And you can't go wrong son" Lovingly exemplifying it with one of his own fine boots. Adding as he looked down on him bleeding. "The sky might be a little brown at times, but behind it waits the true bounty."
He even found them recognizant of racial purity, although what Jews had to do with it he wasn't sure. If it wasn't some strange race of females? It was a most sad state of things, that this female emancipation had been allowed. But most of the planet still seemed to have enough sense not to let such thoughts corrupt the life's of their live stocks.
He himself found the idea of women outside the house outrageous, a pure heresy, but after all, even amongst his own he was known to be somewhat of a purist. Why, some of his contemporaries even allowed them to use public lavatories?
But he knew better. A woman was an animal, fettered to her lusts. To let such a one outside her homes walls was to leave her run wild, a extraordinary danger to her and all males purity. Her duty was after all to keep her man happy, not to flash her blatant sex on innocent males.
Those folks here didn't know it but they were indeed lucky to have him, thought Askwra. He had already on several occasions stopped incidents that unfettered would have led to untold depravities of mind and soul.
Like that mall, flashing women's intimates in their glass windows. It had taken him a whole night to correct it, but in the morning there were only proper male clothes showing in those windows, with the fires burning merrily outside the fountain.
Sweeping away the filth, and the bodies of those two men, supporting the insupportable.
But, did anyone thank him?
That was another thing confusing him. He had tried to read that purifying manifest, 'Mein Kampf' but the book seemed mostly to be about burning books?
What that had to do with burning those unmentionables, flashing their wantonness in the shop windows, he still had to find out?
Although, the governing principle seemed much the same? It bothered him all the same.
Why write one, if you just gonna burn it?
As she finally decided he had enough pulling him away, he knew what that poor snake in the Disney movie had felt, loosing that swell thumb to suck on.
"Sandra. What happened? Your Mum, she would go through the roof seeing us."
Sandra smiled. "No she won't, she said you looked sweet. And she gave us those fabulous clothes too."
He stared at them. It seemed as some weird kind of uniform, made in a strange transparent fabric, leaving little to the imagination. And was that a apron? "No Sandra sweetie. Uh uh, not mine. And where's my clothes?"
"Sweetie, we all have to work." she argued most reasonably. "And it is your size too, it was mothers pet. I know you would look just adorable in them." 'That's it' thought James. No way. They must have had him hypnotized, or something, but now he was awake. And she couldn't be as young as she looked either, not acting this perverted.
"Sorry Sandra. You may have saved my life, but I won't get dressed up like that." He said, then remembering what he already had worn, starting to redden. "Where the hell is my clothes?" He almost wailed as tried to stand, at last succeeding. Feeling a little shaky he wobbled to open the door, with his Sandra still arguing beside him.
"Treasure, you're not well. Go back to bed, immediately. Oh, why are you so obstinate?" He had been right. There was the stairway. Holding to the rails as if his life depended on it he at last succeeded to navigate it, forcing himself down against her command. "Where's your mum, Sandra?" he asked. Sandra shook her head exasperated, now why did Treasure have to be so perverse. Didn't he know that Mum too would be angry with him?
As her Mum came out to see what the commotion was about she found James sitting on the last step, a stubborn look on his face with her daughter near tears on the step above shaking her head at her, as if to say, I tried to stop him.
Sandra's Mum didn't appreciate domestics running free, and especially not so recently wild ones. She looked sternly at Sandra. "What is this? Why are Treasure here. You said you would take care of him Sandra?"
James who listened to the arguments flowing back and forth felt as if he wasn't there at all. It sounded more as if he was some sort of pet he thought disbelievingly. So, had they dropped something in his drink? Or was he really ill, maybe imagining it all?
Was his memories true or was it just something implanted? He couldn't make any sense of it but seeing Sandra's mother slowly becoming more and more irked he decided to break it up. "Sorry Ma'am, don't know your name. But I was just trying to get dressed. Sandra's totally blameless ma'am."
"So, haven't she told you the house rules Treasure?"
"Lady, my name is James, not Treasure, and I would prefer to get my clothes at the soonest."
"Treasure, you can't go, not like you are now." She pointed to him.
He looked down at his 'outfit' silently agreeing. But that was another part of the reason why he wanted to leave.
"Just get me my clothes Ma'am, and I'll be out of your hair in no-time."
Sandra who listened behind him now had started to cry again. Mums pet manuals hadn't said a thing about this, her Treasure running away? And her and mum getting him the finest clothes they could find too. The ungratefulness of it, it almost made her mad. She looked up.
"Mum, if Treasure feels that he want to go, perhaps we should let him." Her mother shook her head, without Sandra, Treasure could only go wild and who would want him then? She had told her daughter not to pick up strays, but then again, they couldn't let him die, could they. She hadn't wanted this, she knew that humans made bad pets, much to wild, but in the end it had been Sandra's own choice to save and nourish him.
"You can't say I didn't warn you Sandra." She muttered as she went to get his clothes.
Sandra tried to collect herself. "Treasure, James. I'm sorry, but we bounded. I had no choice, you were so ill. Am I really that disgusting to you?" Without thinking of it she had started to caress his cheek.
James felt as if he just wanted to lay back, and relax his head in her lap, but he fought it as hard as he could. He didn't know what drugs they had given him, or how long they would take to get out of his system, but he would take his chances.
Everything was better than that outfit he thought shivering. But they were sure strange, first kidnapping him and now? Letting him go? "You gotta be the weirdest kidnappers I've ever meet Sandra." He mumbled, almost afloat in her soft caresses. "But I won't press charges, maybe you did save me girl. But I won't be turned into someone's plaything."
"I'm sorry James." Now she used his old name. "You're no ones plaything and I had no choice, you had a double sided pneumonia and there was no way we could have saved you in time, other than do what I did. But I was glad to do it."
Now he couldn't stop himself, slowly he sunk back until his head rested in her lap, looking directly into her eyes he told her slowly and distinctly. "I like you too Sandra, but as myself, not as your pet. Can you tell the difference?"
She seemed as if she didn't know what to do. She started to wring her hands as she tried to find the answer to his question. In the end she looked down at him, her hair falling down tickling him. It created a sort of barrier between them and the rest of the world, allowing him to feel totally alone with her.
"Our ways are not yours James. And according to them you're mine, and James, it's a thing of the blood binding us both. If you leave me you will know it too, and it hurts."
He stretched up a hand to touch her cheek. "I'm sorry Sandra. Truly I am. But as it is I have no choice."
At last her mother came back with his clothes, clean and still warm from the dryer. They both helped James to change and when he was ready her mother gave him his rucksack and a brown paper bag filled with some food and a small box. She looked at Sandra, not at him as she gave it to him.
"If you want us to help, you press this button." She said pointing to a black knob on the box. "What you're doing is highly dangerous Treasure. But you're an true obstinate, I just hope you will be worth my daughters pain."
As he slowly got up, lifting his rucksack, so much lighter after being emptied of his trash he turned to them. "Don't think I'm ungrateful Ma'am, or that I don't like you Sandra. But the way you want to decide my life is not to my liking. I'm sorry." So saying he walked out the door leaving them to look at each other.
"Mum, how much will it hurt?" Sandra's Mum shook her head. To tear up a bonding was always hurtful, usually leading to a long outdrawn convalescence and infrequently even to death. And the one Sandra and Treasure seemed to have had grown strong quickly.
"We will just have to be brave child. It will hurt." She opened her arms to take Sandra in her lap comforting her. She hoped that Treasure would remember that call box. But she wasn't sure.
As James left the premises he saw cultivated farmland all around him. And as he looked back at the house it looked both warm and welcoming, but he knew better. Wherever did they get their ideas from he wondered, almost like some aliens. He really liked Sandra, and it felt hard leaving her like this, but what could he do?
The sun was straight above him as he walked, and the weather was warm for being this late in October. As he started to follow the small road leading away he felt himself getting weaker. Hadn't Sandra's Mum given him some food? He looked in the bag and started to chew on it as he walked. After a while he came to a crossroad, choosing the left he continued his walk.
As the evening came he found himself walking through a forest. He decided to make a camp for the night, making a rough lean-to some way from the road, and after starting his fire he pulled out his old sleeping bag. The newly washed smell of it reminded him of Sandra, but he couldn't change that. His decision was made. As he fell asleep he found himself wondering about what pain she had kept talking about, he hadn't felt a bit so far.
In his dream he found himself back in the house. He could see Sandra's mum sitting with Sandra, she looked terribly tired. "Mum it hurts so." She said. She looked as if she had taken ill he thought. Her Mum smiled at her. "You just have to bear with it child. You set him free, and it is his choice now, not ours. Like pays for like Sandra, but you're young. You'll survive it."
He woke up, his heartbeats suddenly going in the hundreds. He drunk some of the water but couldn't get to sleep. He tried to tell himself that it was just a dream, but, inside some inner reach of his mind he could still hear her pain.
As the morning came he continued to walk but now his steps was heavier. He had also became plagued by daydreams in where he saw the girl becoming more and more wasted, weaker every time he saw her. In the end he had to sit down to think it through.
He had by now realized that those were more than mere dreams, and with that he also had been forced to realize whom it was paying the prize for his freedom. 'Sandra? It made no sense.' He swore softly for himself. If it had been himself he would expect himself to press through no matter, but using her? Was it her mother? Nah.
In the end he took up the small box to look at it, sighing tiredly he pressed the knob. It took some hours before he heard a car coming. It was Sandra's Mum opening the door. "She's in the backseat Treasure. And she's ill."
He almost run to the back door throwing it open. She did look sick, almost as sick as he had felt that time they found him. "I'm sorry Sandra, so sorry. I thought it would be me, not you. I won't leave you again. I promise." She smiled gloriously at him, pleased even in her sad condition. As he sat down he lifted her to rest her head in his lap. Holding her gently he smiled at her. "We will have to discuss the clothes though."
As her mother heard that she smiled knowingly to herself. She had tried to warn Sandra, but she was a willful one. Still, seeing the gentle care with which Treasure handled her daughter she found herself dreaming, against all wishes, wondering how it might feel to once more have one of her own again.
She had lost all interest after Sandra's father had died. He had never succeeded to adapt to traveling and only through selfless sacrifice and luck had he been able to produce the seeds for their daughter. 'He was so brave, I miss him." She even had kept his favorite leash, taking it to bed smelling it, just to remember their special times together.
'So sensitive and delicate.' she thought. 'That brute Treasure though, with him her daughter certainly had gotten her share of work laid out.' Disparagingly she considered his qualities, his manners was sadly lacking and, although otherwise a charming young specimen, she frankly doubted her daughter ever succeeding with such poor material. Then again, in this realm all males seemed sadly lacking.
She had tried once, finding a lot of strange but subtly similar material on the Internet. But the ways of those mundane's seemed to lack all finesse, not to mention empathy. She had soon lost all interest in their dealings. But her daughters instincts seemed true, 'Treasure do have some redeeming qualities' she thought as she watched them together.