Girl In The Woods (6 page)

“From now on,
your name will be ‘bitch’,” he states.

Bitch?

I open my mouth
to protest.

“Stop,” he
startles me. “You are not allowed to speak. I really love your name. Calista is
extremely beautiful. But as long as you are with me, you are ‘bitch’. Why?
Because if I had a female wolf with me, I would call her a bitch. Wouldn’t I?
Do you think I should make an exception just because you are a human?”

Of course you
have to make an exception. I am a woman, a noble woman, not a female wolf.

“Answer me,” he
insists.

“No, my Lord,” I
reply in the way I know he desires.

He fights back a
smile unsuccessfully.

“I know you
don’t mean it, but I appreciate your effort. Do you remember how I taught you
to cook?”

“No, my Lord.”

“Sure you don’t.
You were too busy thinking how to escape.” His voice sounds coarse. “Get up.
This time you will pay attention and if tomorrow you can’t cook, I will punish
you.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Indeed I pay
attention and keep mental notes so that I don’t have to ask him anything
tomorrow. When the meat is ready, he orders me to serve him and after I do so,
I put a portion of meat on a plate and place it on the table, ready to sit on a
chair.

“What are you
doing?” he asks.

“Sitting down to
eat,” I reply bemused.

“Who said that
you can eat on the table?”

“I can’t?”

“You are a
bitch. Remember? Do bitches eat on the table?”

Why is he doing
this? Is this the way he wants to make me pay for my attempt to go away? With
extreme humiliation?

“No, my Lord.” I
am on the verge of bursting into tears.

“Then, eat like
a bitch would.”

I bite my lower
lip to prevent it from quivering with no result. I am like a small child that
has done something really bad and its teacher wants to punish it in front of
the whole classroom. All my body shakes from the vehemence of my emotions.

I place the
plate reluctantly on the floor and kneel over it.

“Bitches don’t
eat off a plate.”

He has got to be
kidding. I am not eating off the floor!

I look at him,
pleading that he lets me eat with some dignity. I am naked on my knees,
prepared to eat off a plate and he demands more?

He leans down,
takes the plate and throws the meat on the wooden floor.

“Only for this
time, you are permitted to use your hands. But the meat will not leave the
floor. Understood?”

I nod. What
keeps me from crying is my incredible hunger. I haven’t eaten anything all day.
And this is what drives me to lean on my hands and grasp the meat with my
teeth, as if I were a wild animal. Oh, it’s exquisite. I grab another bite,
ignoring him completely. I moan with pleasure. The more I eat, the more I don’t
mind being in this position. My lips, nose and chin are a mess but I am
enjoying it immensely. It’s like when I was a kid, that I wasn’t considered a
lady and I could be as dirty as I liked. I am a child again that plays
carefree.

After we eat, he commands me to wash the plates in the lake.
However, I have to go there crawling. Like a real wolf would do. Fortunately,
the hut is close by the lake so I don’t have to cross a large distance on my
hands and knees.

The plates are
clean and dry on the shelves. I have to pee though. I turn to get out still
crawling.

“Where are you
going?” he asks.

“Outside.”

“Why?”

“Well…I need to
pee.”

“Did you ask for
my permission?”

My jaw drops.

“I didn’t know I
had to ask in order to pee.”

He comes over me
and grabs my hair obliging my head to fall backwards.

“From the moment
you came back, every action of yours belongs to me. Do you understand this?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Good. Now, I
want to make sure you will remember this. So, as a reminder I will be watching
you while you pee.”

“What?”

“Go outside,
bitch. You have a need to cover. I am giving you permission and you must obey.
Don’t feel shame. Does a wolf feel shame when he does this?”

“No, but a wolf
is an…”

“Animal. Right
now, you are one, too. You are no longer Calista,” he says and lets go of my
hair.

Well, I deserved
that. I had to be curious and come back. I go outside, always on hands and
knees – which by the way are sore and dirty - and head to the back of the hut
near some bushes. It’s stupid that I want to go behind the hut, among bushes,
since there are no other humans close, but at least it gives me a sense of
seclusion.

It’s not the
first time I have to pee outside. Having spent my entire life living in a house
in the forest and taking long walks, there had been several occasions I had no
other choice. Nevertheless, I was always careful that no one was watching.

This is so
demeaning. He is standing over me with his hands in his pants’ pockets. I close
my eyes and let myself free, pretending he is not there. But my pride is aware
of his presence. As much as I postponed it ever since I returned, now I can’t
help weeping. Why does he do this? Is this what I am looking for? To be
humiliated and to cry all the time?

“Go wash
yourself,” he tells me when I am finished.

Crawling, I get
into the water and wash myself. It is a hot summer day and I relish the cool
sensation. I am conscious that he is staring at me, but right now I don’t care.
The still surface of the lake, resembling a mirror, invites me to dive and
stretch my stiff body. After all the kneeling, crawling and pure degradation, a
girl deserves to take it easy.

I lie on my
back, allowing the water to carry me in its liquid embrace. I close my eyes and
it’s only me, the lake and the sounds of the forest. Suddenly, I remember
Conor. I swim towards the shore avoiding eye contact with him. He seems aloof.
This is not good. Rapidly, I get out of the lake and he approaches me holding a
towel. How on earth does he have a towel? Well, it must be one of the things he
has collected over the years from the rich families’ garbage, like the women’s
clothes as well. Why would he collect women’s clothes is something I still
don’t understand. I have to remember to ask him.

He rubs my skin
with the towel and I shiver as he touches all parts of my body relentlessly. As
soon as his task to dry my body is over, he smacks my ass hard making me pant.

“This is for
swimming without my permission. I ordered you to wash yourself, not to have
fun.”

I should be hurt
and offended. But oddly I am not. Like it is the most natural thing in the
world, I bow my head and apologize.

“Every time I
correct your behavior, you will kneel and kiss my hand,” he says and I do as he
instructs me.

I can’t explain why this gesture of me kneeling in front of him and
kissing his hand makes me want him. My cheeks must be red, as I feel them
burning. I hope he won’t notice my excitement. How can he have this power over
me? And how come all the other men who claimed me in the past left me
indifferent?

Once the bright
sun hides, darkness and silence spreads all over the forest. He taught me how
to cook fish and I had to eat again off the floor. I am thoroughly worn out.

“May I go to
bed, my Lord?” I ask him while he is carving a piece of wood. I can’t tell what
he wants to make, as he hasn’t formed a shape yet and I don’t dare ask.

“No, you may
not. You will sleep there.” He points to the rug in front of the fireplace.

“What? I can’t
sleep on the floor.”

“I slept on the
floor the first night you were here and you didn’t mind.”

“You were a…”

“Wolf. How many
more times are you going to use this argument? These are my rules, bitch. There
will be nights that you will get to sleep on my bed, when you deserve it and
you should be really thankful for that privilege. But tonight is not one of
these nights.”

I feel like I am
a nothing. Smaller than the ants walking in the woods. I don’t cry though. This
is my decision and I will carry out my task with dignity.

It’s only a
game, Calista. Only a game. A parallel life that you get to live for some days
before going back to your normal life.

This is my last
thought before huddling up on the rug in front of the warm fire oblivious to
the next day’s tests and sufferings my soul and my body has to undergo.

He wakes me up
by licking my nose. He has turned into a wolf. He gazes at my naked, aching
body with unexpected kindness. There are bruises on my knees from all the
crawling, while my back is sore and scratched. The fire has blown out and even
though it’s the beginning of a new summer’s day, there is a cool morning chill
all around the room. I curl up more.

“Good morning,”
he says. “You can wear a dress. No panties. And today I allow you to walk, but
you still have to ask permission for everything else. Understood?”

I nod
compliantly.

“Good. I’m going
hunting. I expect you will behave properly when I return.”

He must be
talking about kneeling before him. I nod again and he leaves me alone. It seems
he trusts me now that I won’t escape, since he didn’t tie me up. Well, I had my
chance and he willingly offered me my freedom, but this is my choice. No matter
how degrading and harsh he is. I want to find out what I’m looking for and I
won’t give up. Even if my motive is just my stubbornness not to abandon my
attempt.

What he doesn’t
know – or does he? – is that I have always been a rebel. Against my parents,
the society’s established rules, the way people pretend to have real and
meaningful relationships. His control over me and the way he treats me is
another form of my rebellion against everything I know and has been forced upon
me ever since I was born. Sure, he too compels me to do things for him and
react in a certain way. There is a huge difference between society’s forceful
ways and his. His words, his orders and his rules don’t alienate me from who I
really am and from what I really desire. All my life I was obliged to behave in
a certain way to please others. Nevertheless, pleasing him, satisfies me too.

Calista, if only he knew that when he thinks he humiliates you, you
feel content and fulfilled.

Having worn a
beautiful, yellow, long dress I sit by a tree watching the ducks gliding
peacefully around the lake. It’s such a beautiful morning. I close my eyes and
cherish the sun’s touch on my face. It’s one of those days you wish you could
just spend your entire day lying under the warm embrace of the sun.

There is a
growl, breaking my reverie. Without a second thought, I kneel on the ground,
lowering my head. I can only see his wolf feet. He doesn’t say a thing and
walks to the hut. Not knowing what to do after and because I am not allowed to
speak, I remain on my knees.

“Well, what are
you waiting for?” he asks me, his voice coming from the hut.

This is not
fair. How was I to know I had to follow him?

After I have
cooked, I ask him if I can eat on the table.

“I’m afraid not.
You will eat on the floor again. This time though you will enjoy the luxury of
eating from a plate. I want your hands on your back.”

Jeez, thanks.
You are so generous.
Of course, not eating off the
floor is an upgrade. Keeping my hands on my back, not so much.

Instead of
trying to surrender to the feminine voice inside me, telling me I should do
this as elegantly as possible, I give in to my inner child once more and I make
an utter mess of myself.

Once I have
finished eating, he orders me to look up.

He grins. Great.
Now, I am funny.

“You are such a
cute little bitch!” he jests.

I frown and
purse my lips and as a reply he moves his index finger disapprovingly.

“No. Don’t you
dare object to me. If I say you are a cute little bitch, take it as a
compliment and be glad your Lord sees you as such.”

He gets up from
his chair and brings a small towel that was hanging by the shelves. He stands
on his one knee in front of me and bends to wipe my lips, my chin and my nose
from the grease. He is half – smiling and his eyes are not so dark now. I don’t
know if I should feel proud or silly for amusing him.

I clean the dishes and remain – with his permission of course – by
the lake.

“Bitch, wake
up.”

When did I fall
asleep? It was so quiet out here during noon and the sun’s warmth must have
sedated me. It’s late afternoon now and the lake is filled with life again.
Ducks, pelicans and small birds have come to life after the midday’s lethargy.

“Take your dress
off and get into the lake. You will only wash yourself. No fun. Ok?”