Posts by Cutesy Lolita Elizabeth

Patricia Kitt walked down the sidewalk--heading home after a long day of school--with her head down, allowing the pouring rain to soak her light brown hair and her long, black and white dress. Her dark brown eyes were fixed on the sidewalk in front of her. She was quiet and shy, but she always tried to help everyone out the best she could.

But that didn't seem to change the fact they all hated her. The bullying was a constant thing, and it had driven her to self-harm and depression. It even made the once-bubbly girl terribly sensitive and timid. She tried her hardest, but it was never good enough. It was all because of her gender identity: she was a male-to-female transsexual, and while she passed quite well, someone somehow got a hold of the information that she was trans* and spread it. Now everyone was always ready with nasty comments or a beating if they approached her, or they just avoided her altogether.

She sighed, pulling at the cuffs on her sleeves. "There truly must be no one out there who could love me..."

Heather slowly made her way down the hallway and to her master's room. She felt as if she could barely even stand, and keeping her balance without using the wall for support was nearly impossible for her. The day had already been terribly difficult, and she wished she could just pass out and worry about her problems sometime else, but there was nothing that have her a better feeling than fulfilling her master's wishes.

Before knocking on the master's door, Heather pulled the hem of her tight, already-short, black and purple dress a bit higher. Her master would probably be more pleased, in that case, and that's what she wanted. She patiently stood in front of the door, using all her strength and willpower to remain standing without depending on anything else to help her.

((Accepted~ ^^ ))

Patricia sighed quietly as she kicked a rock. Of course, it rolled forward, which made her smile slightly. The rock was weaker than her. It couldn't hurt her if it wasn't thrown at her, and even if it was, it probably wasn't heavy enough to be able to be felt through the cuffs on her sleeves. It was almost as pathetic...as herself.

She shook her head. No! There wasn't any use thinking about things like that. It was depressing and she didn't like it. Narrowing her eyes at herself, at her own reminder of the deep abyss of Hellish self-loathing that was inside her head, she looked up. She wanted to see how far she had kicked the rock. She wasn't quite sure of where exactly it went, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a boy across the street.

He looks sad, Patricia thought, and she sprinted across the street as fast as her mary-janes would allow her to--she found them difficult to run in, even though she had worn that style of shoe for almost her entire life. She smiles as sweetly as she could, though she was sure it was a failure, since interacting with other people wasn't her specialty. Still, as long as she could talk to someone without erasing the invisible lines she had drawn around her mental self to keep others out, then she was sure she could talk to this boy without getting too scared.

"U-um...wh-what's wrong, Sir?" she stuttered quietly, standing as close to him as she could without feeling uncomfortable.

"I know what pain is like," Patricia stated simply. "I know what Hell is like, too. That's where I'm at right now. I think that's where you're at. Is that where you're at?"

She untucked her hair from behind her ears, allowing her hair to fall in a way that kept her eyes hidden from this boy. If he didn't see what emotions her eyes reflected, she could keep her invisible lines from being thinned, erased, or crossed. They were there to protect her, and she couldn't let anyone do anything to them.

Patricia flinched from the unexpected tone Rensley used to respond. Still, she tried not to show that it scared her at all. "I'd introduce myself, but I don't know if I want to do that. I'm not sure I like responding to questions or implied questions. It feels like if I say something wrong, Hell might consume me." She gave a lock of her hair a quick, hard yank. "But now I'm scared not to answer, because being too pathetic to answer will make my Hell bigger." She slammed the heel of her show down on the sidewalk, which resulted in a loud click. "So I don't know if I want to tell you who I am."

"What?" She tilted her head, still making sure to keep her face hidden. "I'm not going to hurt you. I could have killed you if I really wanted to, because I'm probably stronger than you. I'm stronger than a lot of people, you know. I don't think you would be any different." She hesitated for a moment. "But even though you're not in a group and you don't have a group of people who could hurt me, I won't do anything. You can't control your personal Hell. You're just like me, so don't be afraid."

After waiting for a couple moments, Heather slowly opened the door. She silently prayed that her presence wasn't unwanted, and if it was, she hoped that she wouldn't have anything thrown at her.

"M-Master Dave," she said quietly, "I've finished the chores you ordered me to. What would you like me to do next?"

The push she received from her master nearly caused her to fall over, but she regained her balance at the last moment. "I do hope it's all to your liking. I was very tired, so I may not have done my absolute best work." She followed Dave, making sure to stay behind him and trying not to stumble or fall.

Heather flinched from his gaze. "Oh...I'm very sorry, Master..." Her gaze dropped to the floor, her cheeks turning a bit pink. "What's my punishment, then...?"

"I'm your loyal servant. The choice is entirely yours." She bowed respectfully, holding the back of her dress down to keep at least a little bit covered up. "Beat me or whip me or do whatever you please, Master. I'm here only to fulfill your every wish."

Heather whimpered quietly, but did nothing to fight against her master. "A beating it is, then." A bit more quietly, she added, "I'm pleased I'm able to make you happy even when I fall short of your expectations."

She screamed from the pain of each strike. She could probably stifle her cries if she was told to, but perhaps the Master liked hearing that she was in pain. She dropped down on her hands and knees, balling her hands into fists in attempt to make the pain a little easier to deal with.

She immediately looked down at the floor, scared to meet his gaze. She nodded in response to the question, of course. "Y-y-yes, Master, I've learned. I'm very sorry my work disappointed you. Is that all you wish to do to me?"

"I'll be as quick as I can, Master." She hurried off to prepare something for dinner. Around an hour later, she set the table--the dinner being salmon, steamed rice with soy sauce, and a glass of red wine. She whistled, making sure to be loud enough for Dave to hear, and called, "Dinner is ready, Master!"

Heather bowed respectfully and stood beside the table as he ate. "I hope it didn't take too long to prepare, and I hope you're satisfied with it."

"I'm very sorry I took so long, and I guess I must have cooked it a bit too long..." she apologized. She shifted nervously, keeping her eyes fixed on the tablecloth so as to prevent herself from looking over at her master to gauge his disappointment in her.

Heather hesitated for a minute or two before giving an answer. "Yes, of course. I always must be ready for what I have coming. But if you would be so kind...would you please tell me how it is you'll punish me...?"

She managed a small smile. "As long as you'll enjoy it, of course I'm ready..." She blushed when he kissed her hand, looking surprised. How unexpected. What could the Master possibly want to do to her next...?

She immediately looked away, mentally punching herself. It was horrible for a maid to be gazing into her master's eyes, whether it was him who had caused it! "I'm all yours, Master. You own me fully, and I don't have any other option than complete devotion right now."