A Bedtime Story by L.C. Moon

in her ear, “Everything is going to be all right.” Her voice throaty, she
     obediently replied, “Yes, Master.”
    She closed her eyes as he pulled her even closer, holding her so
     tightly in his arms she couldn’t move. He started kissing down her neck, his hands
     caressing her arms, then lightly trailing down her back. She wanted to tell him
     something, tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. She couldn’t move a muscle, could
     only feel his hands all over her body, everywhere at the same time, as if he had a
     thousand of them, just like the mythical Greek giants. Panic took hold of her, and
     yet every sensation was heightened, everycaress echoed throughout
     her body, and she didn’t know if she wanted it to end.
    She woke up panting, sweaty, and distraught. And much to her
     dismay, wet, in places she shouldn’t be. She tried not to analyze what it meant,
     just blocked it out completely. She couldn’t catch any shut-eye for the rest of the
     night, staring out the window until the sun crept up.
    When Olga came in to serve her breakfast, she seemed pleasantly
     surprised to see her sitting up in bed. “Good morning, Miss Spencer, you’re up early
     this morning. I hope you feel better. You gave us quite a scare last night.”
    She wondered why Olga would bring her breakfast if she thought she
     was asleep. Laura thought back to the previous night, to why she was up so early and
     blushed. She questioned Olga’s choice of the word “us”. Was she expected to believe he worried for her well-being?
    “Well, if you’re up to it, I can come back after you’ve finished
     your breakfast and give you the tour of the house?”
    “Yes, thank you, Olga,” Laura answered, attempting a feeble
     smile.
    Olga smiled back at her, visibly pleased.
    She returned about half an hour later. Laura was dressed and ready
     and actually quite anxious to leave her bedroom, eyeing the traitorous bed
     resentfully. In fact, for the first time since her arrival, she thought of escape.
     She knew it would be near impossible and shivered at the consequences she would face
     in the event of a failed attempt. Even if she succeeded, where would she go? They
     surely wouldn’t have trouble tracking her down. She didn’t have Peter’s skill,
     knowledge, or paranoia to survive so long on the run. Still, she needed to maintain
     the hope that she would one day leave this house, but first she had to know her
     enemy.
    The house looked different in the midday light. She noticed the
     security men roaming outside the house; she tensed, glad not to run into any of them
     inside. She followed Olga around quietly in and out of every room. There was a cozy
     small room in the easternwing with a fluffy red couch, a small
     table, a desk, and a big TV. There were plants by the wall near the window. She
     immediately decided to claim it. The rest of the tour was uneventful, many rooms,
     bedrooms, more media/living rooms, although they looked more modern than hers . There was even a ballroom. Did people even throw balls nowadays? As they didn’t run into anyone else, Laura wondered if Olga did everything alone.
     Olga pointed out that a cleaning crew came by weekly and advised Laura it was best
     to ignore them, and they would do the same. In any case, they were Russian and
     didn’t speak English or French.
    In the western wing, Olga opened French double doors to a grandiose
     library. Endless books from ground to the ceiling filled every wall. Crafted within
     the high ceiling was a big glass dome made of churchlike stained glass, making the
     sunlight shine in vibrant hues. The bookshelves were made of intricately carved
     wood. Inner marble stairs circled around to the higher level with a finely sculpted
     ramp. It truly was breathtaking. Laura loved books, more than anything else in the
     world. She loved the escape they offered, the teachings they generously imparted,
     and most of all, she loved the promise each book held of a