Adjustment of Attitude

Part 9

I reach for the blindfold shrouding me in darkness, hoping to see something in their eyes or body language to give me anything to hold on to through this ordeal. 

"Leave it." Garrett's clipped words ring out.

My hands fall by my side and I wait. The lowest sounds grab my attention. 

"Come." The command is clear. A hand picks up mine and places it on his arm. "Hold on to my bicep. We will walk into the kitchen. Once there, I will lead you to the seiza bench. There you will kneel and wait. If one of us choses to feed you, we will brush against your cheek. Turn your head in that direction and open your mouth. You will accept what is offered. Are these instructions clear?"

A combination of dread and excitement rush through me. I've never been good with surprises and both men know the lack of visual control is a challenge.  

Outwardly, I inhale deeply and exhale to calm my nerves. "Yes, Sir."

"Good."  

Without another word, Garrett steps forward. I focus on each step. It isn't passive walk, it forces my attention to the person leading me through the darkness. Each step a choreographed movement until we arrive in the kitchen.  

"The bench is in front of you." 

I take a step forward, my shins bang into the wood and I bite back the exclamation. 

"Kneel."

With as much grace as I can muster at the moment, I bend over, found the edges of the bench and lower my body into a kneeling position. 

**Breathe** I demand my body to listen. Inhale to a count of four, exhale to a count for four. Inhale to a count of six, exhale to a count of six. Inhale to a count of eight, exhale to a count of eight. The breath pyramid continues until I feel my internal equilibrium return. 

A finger grazes against my left cheek and I jump in a startle. With such inward focus I'd lost my outward attention. Far too late I remember to turn my head and open my mouth. 

The hand retreats before I can complete the movement. 

"It is a pity," Evan begins above me. 

"What's a pity," Garrett replies, amusement laces his tone. 

"When a person in such a previously dominant position, does not remember the simplest things. Easy commands are met with a failure to obey." 

"Careful boy, you may be in a position of authority here but it also means you manage the power you wield. While there may be no retaliation, unreasonable expectations for muscles not well used, could factor in your future."

"I do not find such situations to be difficult. Why would kneeling in the dark and being hand fed be such a problem?"

A finger grazes against the opposite cheek. I turn with an open mouth and wait. Warm French toast lay against my tongue. The explosion of flavors in my mouth is a new sensation. 

"Do you find the patience, tolerance, planning and discipline difficult in your current position?" 

Deafening silence penetrates the room.  Occasionally a piece of silverware scrapes across the dinnerware. 

"Boy, I asked you a question."

"It's different. Leadership and control are supposed to be hard. When someone takes on that mantel they know what they are lifting. If it's too much, they shouldn't try to do it. To follow and obey are just simple tasks." Evan replies.

"Noted."  

"What's that suppose to mean?" 

"It means- noted. This is the last time I'll advise you to watch your tongue."

They hold the rest of meal in silence. In the background, the once soft music feels louder. The conversation held above me leaves me in an odd place. Neither a participant nor treated as a human. This moment feels like being a treasured pet. Privy to intimate situations, but unable to take part. Not an object and not human.  

"Do not make me give the order again, girl." With that comment, my head pops up.   

**Oh, crap.** The words run like a loop through my mind. 

"I think she likes being in her head." Evan's helpful statement does nothing to help my situation. 

"Yes, a noticeable issue."  

Without warning, hands lifted me until I stood. Fingers push ear plugs into my ears, only to follow them with ear muffs. A gag forces its way into my mouth and the intent becomes clear. If I am going to go inward, then I will be cut off from the sensor inputs of all the outside world.   

They bound my hands in front of me. I can reach the blindfold, ear muffs and gag if I need too but soon it won't matter.  

Hands grab both biceps. We move as a unit, somewhere between being carried and dragged to my destination. In the final steps, my body is lifted and placed inside the box. The jar of the door as it closes is my last sense of the outside world.

It wouldn't matter if I removed everything in here. The 5x5 space is generous. In addition, it is soundproof and pitch dark. The top is lined with cameras and a ventilation system. Outside the box is a high tech monitoring system. The floor is tile. If I am lucky, I will find a large dog bed in one corner. Water is dispensed from a wall port which reminds me of a hamster spout. Food is delivered in small quantities through a door panel about 2 feet from the water spout. Once in, the only way out is based on the mercy of Evan and Garrett. Yes- I know this box because I designed it. I never thought I'd be in it.