‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
90
Taylor planted himself in a wooden chair when he was told to, the master retaining the chain attached to his wrists as his Mistress made her way into the room.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat on a chair, not including the piano stool.
“I’ve discovered the problem,” the man said to her as she looked down at Taylor with an unimpressed look.
“And it is?”
“He believes his family are still alive.”
Taylor’s head shot up. He had to hold himself back from speaking out of turn, but it was very hard. They thought his family were dead?
“I see…” the woman pursed her lips, “I’m aware of a brother that was taken in with him. I was unable to acquire him myself.”
“I’m afraid I know the reason for that,” he turned his attention back to Taylor, “when is the last time you spoke to your brother?”
“Two days ago,” he replied instantly, “over the phone.”
“The phone?” the woman frowned.
“Nate used his to-“
Taylor cut himself off as the master snapped his fingers, signalling him to be quiet.
“When was the last time you spoke to him face to face?”
Taylor paused to think, glad that they at least seemed to be focused on Zac rather than Isaac as well.
“The last night before I went to serve you,” he responded.
“And when is the last time you recall speaking to your wife?”
Taylor blanched, not expecting the question.
“A few hours before I was…” he hesitated, knowing he had to be careful with the terminology, “before we ran into Nate.”
His eyes lowered.
“This is a problem,” the master directed his statement to the woman, “becoming a slave is a purely psychological experience. They need to believe that they are so cut off from their past lives that they aren’t worth fighting for anymore. If he merely believes that his family are still alive, then that is something he will believe he must fight for. Already having a brother involved was a mistake.”
“So how do we rectify this?” the woman sighed.
“A shock,” Taylor looked up curiously, “we must prove the reality of the situation to him. Prove to him that they are gone, and that he doesn’t need to fight for them anymore.”
Taylor’s brow furrowed, wondering how they could possibly do that when it wasn’t true.
“Do you have a viable internet connection?” the master asked.
“In the study,” the woman nodded, “if you would follow me…”
She led the way from the room, a tug on Taylor’s wrists indicating that he was meant to follow as well.
They made their way into the study and with the master’s indication Taylor returned to his normal kneeling position on the rug. The woman took up her usual place at the desk, while the master flanked her.
“What was your surname?” he looked up at Taylor.
“Hanson,” Taylor closed his eyes, knowing this outcome would be anything but good.
“Type it in,” the man instructed.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat on a chair, not including the piano stool.
“I’ve discovered the problem,” the man said to her as she looked down at Taylor with an unimpressed look.
“And it is?”
“He believes his family are still alive.”
Taylor’s head shot up. He had to hold himself back from speaking out of turn, but it was very hard. They thought his family were dead?
“I see…” the woman pursed her lips, “I’m aware of a brother that was taken in with him. I was unable to acquire him myself.”
“I’m afraid I know the reason for that,” he turned his attention back to Taylor, “when is the last time you spoke to your brother?”
“Two days ago,” he replied instantly, “over the phone.”
“The phone?” the woman frowned.
“Nate used his to-“
Taylor cut himself off as the master snapped his fingers, signalling him to be quiet.
“When was the last time you spoke to him face to face?”
Taylor paused to think, glad that they at least seemed to be focused on Zac rather than Isaac as well.
“The last night before I went to serve you,” he responded.
“And when is the last time you recall speaking to your wife?”
Taylor blanched, not expecting the question.
“A few hours before I was…” he hesitated, knowing he had to be careful with the terminology, “before we ran into Nate.”
His eyes lowered.
“This is a problem,” the master directed his statement to the woman, “becoming a slave is a purely psychological experience. They need to believe that they are so cut off from their past lives that they aren’t worth fighting for anymore. If he merely believes that his family are still alive, then that is something he will believe he must fight for. Already having a brother involved was a mistake.”
“So how do we rectify this?” the woman sighed.
“A shock,” Taylor looked up curiously, “we must prove the reality of the situation to him. Prove to him that they are gone, and that he doesn’t need to fight for them anymore.”
Taylor’s brow furrowed, wondering how they could possibly do that when it wasn’t true.
“Do you have a viable internet connection?” the master asked.
“In the study,” the woman nodded, “if you would follow me…”
She led the way from the room, a tug on Taylor’s wrists indicating that he was meant to follow as well.
They made their way into the study and with the master’s indication Taylor returned to his normal kneeling position on the rug. The woman took up her usual place at the desk, while the master flanked her.
“What was your surname?” he looked up at Taylor.
“Hanson,” Taylor closed his eyes, knowing this outcome would be anything but good.
“Type it in,” the man instructed.