‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
109
“I’ll look after you,” Nate seemed to promise, “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will get better. And be healthy. You can be my companion, and in turn I can take care of you.”
“Like an animal?” Taylor realised, looking at him questioningly.
“If you want to look at it that way,” Nate shrugged, “you could consider yourself my pet.”
Taylor turned away, trying to stop new tears forming.
“You’ve always said how sending you into slavery took your life away,” Nate had an unnerving humour in his voice, “your humanity is just the logical next step.”
“You’re insane,” Taylor was barely breathing.
Nate just looked at him curiously.
“I mean I always just thought you were an asshole, but there is actually something wrong with you,” Taylor was getting riled up, “like mentally. You need medication. You need help.”
“Maybe,” Nate considered, “but we’ll get you help first, yeah?”
He gave Taylor a pat on the shoulder and stood up from the bed.
“When? How?” Taylor watched him walk to a cupboard, “they’re going to wonder about the scars on my back for one.”
Nate opened the cupboard and pulled out some clothes.
“We took the liberty of acquiring some of your clothes last time we were in Tulsa,” he revealed, setting a white shirt on the sink and a pair of blue jeans.
Taylor was immediately on guard again. He knew they’d been to his house, but he didn’t think they’d be brazen enough to make a return trip. Knowing that Natalie was already out of Tulsa was the only reason he didn’t panic.
“We’ll put you in under a fake name. The photos of you that have been plastered all over the news make you look different anyhow.”
Taylor had known once Nate admitted that he would get him help that his main chance lay with someone recognising him. But that had been something that had slipped his mind. His facial hair was back to the length it had been when he’d been abducted, but his hair was touching his shoulders.
“I could tell them you’re my mute little brother,” Nate mused, bringing Taylor out of his daze.
“When?” Taylor tried again.
“We’ll go tomorrow,” Nate closed the cupboard, “until then we need to wait for Trent to return with my truck.”
Taylor watched as Nate looked around with an almost blank expression before turning back to Taylor and returning to the bedside.
“As your first task in becoming my slave,” he began in a casual tone, “I want you to lay on your stomach for me.”
Taylor frowned worriedly.
“Why?” he asked cautiously.
“The questions also need to stop,” Nate insisted.
“My Mistress told me to ask questions,” Taylor looked a little embarrassed.
“Well you don’t serve her any more, you serve me,” Nate corrected, “now lay down.”
Taylor watched as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a cable tie similar to the one already on his wrists. Not sure what he was going to do, he shifted his weight until he could slide down onto his side, then fall forward onto his stomach. Nate immediately slid the cable tie around his ankles and pulled it tight. Wincing as he felt the pull, he turned his head as Nate completed the hogtie.
“Like an animal?” Taylor realised, looking at him questioningly.
“If you want to look at it that way,” Nate shrugged, “you could consider yourself my pet.”
Taylor turned away, trying to stop new tears forming.
“You’ve always said how sending you into slavery took your life away,” Nate had an unnerving humour in his voice, “your humanity is just the logical next step.”
“You’re insane,” Taylor was barely breathing.
Nate just looked at him curiously.
“I mean I always just thought you were an asshole, but there is actually something wrong with you,” Taylor was getting riled up, “like mentally. You need medication. You need help.”
“Maybe,” Nate considered, “but we’ll get you help first, yeah?”
He gave Taylor a pat on the shoulder and stood up from the bed.
“When? How?” Taylor watched him walk to a cupboard, “they’re going to wonder about the scars on my back for one.”
Nate opened the cupboard and pulled out some clothes.
“We took the liberty of acquiring some of your clothes last time we were in Tulsa,” he revealed, setting a white shirt on the sink and a pair of blue jeans.
Taylor was immediately on guard again. He knew they’d been to his house, but he didn’t think they’d be brazen enough to make a return trip. Knowing that Natalie was already out of Tulsa was the only reason he didn’t panic.
“We’ll put you in under a fake name. The photos of you that have been plastered all over the news make you look different anyhow.”
Taylor had known once Nate admitted that he would get him help that his main chance lay with someone recognising him. But that had been something that had slipped his mind. His facial hair was back to the length it had been when he’d been abducted, but his hair was touching his shoulders.
“I could tell them you’re my mute little brother,” Nate mused, bringing Taylor out of his daze.
“When?” Taylor tried again.
“We’ll go tomorrow,” Nate closed the cupboard, “until then we need to wait for Trent to return with my truck.”
Taylor watched as Nate looked around with an almost blank expression before turning back to Taylor and returning to the bedside.
“As your first task in becoming my slave,” he began in a casual tone, “I want you to lay on your stomach for me.”
Taylor frowned worriedly.
“Why?” he asked cautiously.
“The questions also need to stop,” Nate insisted.
“My Mistress told me to ask questions,” Taylor looked a little embarrassed.
“Well you don’t serve her any more, you serve me,” Nate corrected, “now lay down.”
Taylor watched as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a cable tie similar to the one already on his wrists. Not sure what he was going to do, he shifted his weight until he could slide down onto his side, then fall forward onto his stomach. Nate immediately slid the cable tie around his ankles and pulled it tight. Wincing as he felt the pull, he turned his head as Nate completed the hogtie.