The Auction

Time

Atlas's POV:

I want to kiss her.

I luckily have enough discipline to not try it this time. I'm still horribly embarrassed by how I had knocked her to the floor when I jumped her this morning in front of my mother.

My poor Mistress deserves much better than me.

Her hands wrap around my arm. If someone saw us, they might think I was escorting my submissive, me not having a collar yet.

In no way am I the one in charge, her arm is wrapped around mine to keep me at her side, chained to her.

"May I kiss your hand, Mistress?" She looks up at me with a crooked smile.

"Mmm. I don't know, Slave. I don't think you've earned it." I blush, my heart stuttering in my chest.

From a different Mistress, I would be heartbroken at her rejection of my affection, but from mine I can hear the playfulness.

"Maybe just your fingers then, Mistress?"

She laughs again, candied and cruel at the same time. "I suppose I should allow it, give you a taste so you know what you're working for."

I jump back a bit as her hand is thrust in front of my face to kiss. I steady her hand with mine, pecking her fingers for only a second before she stows her hand away at her side once again.

"I'm very grateful, Mistress."

"As you should be," she teases, leaning heavily on my arm as I open the door for her.

"Oh yes, Mistress." I lean down, nearly placing a kiss on her delicate lips before I remember my place.

She strokes my jaw, letting me feel her nails gently scratching me. "I want to leave here as soon as possible."

I nod in understanding, having picked up on her distaste for this place the second we pulled up. I had every intention of getting her out of here before I even knew how she felt about my apartment.

I don't like her being here. I don't like her having to go inside, or even be in this part of town.

"So when you pack?" She smiles sweetly. "Be quick about it."

I chuckle, wrapping a protective arm around her as I follow her inside. Something about Mistress and how she regards me is so perfectly cold and compassionate at the same time.

Mistress tugs me along with her, my hand grasped in her iron grip as if I'd dare defy her in public.

She moves towards the elevator and I try not to smile at her sweetness. "Dear Mistress, the elevator doesn't work."

She smiles at me from over her shoulder, pleased at my endearments towards her. "What floor are you on?"

"Four, Mistress."

"...And you have to take the stairs?" She looks down at her heels, her distaste for the situation clear.

"Yes, Mistress. Would you like me to carry your heels for you?"

"...and walk bare foot?" Amelia asks hesitantly, switching from to foot to foot, looking down at her feet.

"May I carry you, Mistress?" She looks at me for a moment, almost sizing me up. She examines her heels again, sighing softly as she turns back to me.

She reaches for my cheek, pulling me down to kiss me. Her affection catches me off guard, but her sweetness is more than welcomed.