So Simple by Anonymous

It all used to be so simple.

A tug on my leash would wake me up, and I'd crawl to her side of the bed. A few precious moments of cuddling before we struck out to face the day. We each knew our jobs and we did them well. The morning went by with a breeze, and before I knew it I was out the door and sitting into a room with 30 other people. None of them knew I had a welt across my ass from forgetting to put honey in her tea. Or the bruise on my chest from faultering as her footrest while she was halfway through her second episode of project runway the night before.

After a few hours in class I'd get a break, get up off the hard plastic seat. Smiling to myself at the feeling as blood slowly returned to my butt. She'd already picked out my lunch for me. No need to worry myself having to choose. I sat quietly and ate, smiling at the other people as they passed.

Before long, my day out in the big scary world was finished and I'd head back home. It's a comforting feeling coming home to a warm familiar house. A place where everything made sense and I knew what to expect. I didn't have to worry about whether my pillow was comfortable. I didn't have to make sure I woke up on time. What clothes I'd wear. What chores I would do, or what I would have for dinner. I just had to be good. 

I'd walk in the door and close it gently behind me. A quick change from what I wore that day into a collar and cuffs, and I set to work. I was usually home a while before her which gave me time to get everything in order, just the way she liked it. The bed made, mail retrieved, trash emptied, and dinner started. When I heard her car pulling up in the driveway, I took my place at the end of the entry way, with my knees and forehead touching the ground, and my wrists crossed behind me. She would take the leash down from the hook, and gently snap it to the ring in my collar. A quick but firm tug was all it took for me to follow. I'd watch her feet to know where to follow, which was usually a quick inspection of my work, then back to finish our dinner. When she let me finish cooking, her dinner was elegant and tasty. Mine was unceremoniously scraped into a dog bowl.

I remember when we first met, all it took was a stern look to guide me from the door over to the chair across from her at the table. Her fierce eyes evaporated into a sweet gentle smile, which lit up the room with an effervescent glow. Her curly black mane framed her face like a painting. I stared at the way she effortlessly moved her lips as she spoke, while I struggled to keep my composure. Her fingers gently brushed mine as I held onto my cup, sending an electric tingle down my spine. I could feel my heart beating loudly in my chest, ringing through my ears like the footsteps of a giant walking through the valleys and ridges of my brain. The giant made it impossible to sit still and not squirm against seat of the chair. I squeezed my legs together, and felt the nervous tension rise from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

We sat there until long after the coffee had gotten cold. That night was the first night I'd felt content in a long time. I wrapped myself up tight in my blankets and opened my windows to let the cold night air sink into my room.

It was few months later she suggested I move in.

She pushed my servatude further than it had been pushed before. The previously terrifying feeling of a hood slipping over my head, being laced tightly before locks solidly clicked shut in buckles of each strap. Instead of feeling claustraphobic, it felt comforting and safe. I learned to be a towel rack while she showered. I was her foot warmer when she was cold. On special occassions I was even allowed onto the furniture to snuggle or watch a movie.

It was a magical time in my life where everything made sense, so it was tough to let go when I graduated. She took a job in another city, and I was pushed out the door. I miss having someone in charge. I miss having someone I can make smile when she's had a tough day. I miss the calm feeling of my senses being taken away one by one. Until eventually there's nothing but my heartbeat.