Toxic | Leila & Christian

Chapter 2: Esclava

April 3, 2009

Leila Pov;

My reflection stares back at me in the massive oval mirror in front of me as Franco stands behind me, running a brush through my long dark hair. Upon Christian's request I am getting the full submissive special, as I like to call it. Full waxing, haircut, manicure and pedicure, The works. I look around the room, unable to focus on any one thing, as Franco gushes over my hair. I like Franco. He calls me Bella and speaks in a lovely Italian accent. I can see why Christian made me an appointment here, Esclava is even more beautiful on the inside than out. Everything is so perfectly crafted to fit the up-scale, classy, chic mood of the salon. And the staff is brilliant, everyone is so nice and attentive. I'll have to thank Christian for setting me up here as soon as I get to Escala. I never would've been able to afford an appointment here before. "Just layers and small trim, I think. Right, Bella?" Franco asks, bringing me back to the task at hand; deciding what to do with my overgrown mess of hair. "Yes, I think that Christian would like that, don't you?" I smile to myself, imagining Christians reaction. Perhaps he'll take me to his playroom right away. "Ah, He'll love it, Bella." He reaches for his spray bottle of water with a huge smile on his face. I've changed my mind, I don't like Franco. I love him. I watch in the mirror as he sprays and brushes my tangled curls into submission, then begins cutting. I stare straight ahead as he cuts my hair, looking at my own reflection in the mirror. I look awful, although slightly better than I did when I first woke up this morning. I'm hoping when my hair's cut and styled it'll brighten up my appearance some. My eyes look huge and bright in contrast to the deep, dark circles forming beneath them. Even the perfect lighting of the salon can't make my dark circles lighter. My skin is clear and flawless, but far too pale and dull. However, I'm certain seeing Christian later will bring some color into my cheeks..... Just the thought of seeing him later sends heat flushing over my neck and cheeks, bringing a hint of blush with them. I hardly got even a second of sleep last night, thoughts of Christian and I's meeting kept me wide awake throughout the night. Also the reminder that I'd be seeing him today didn't help me to relax much. I wonder if I'll always be this nervous upon seeing him or if I'll get used to it over time. If I don't get used to his intense manner soon I'll have to invest in some high quality sleeping pills. "Are you allergic to anything? Your neck here is turning pink." I push my thoughts of Christian aside, remembering where I am. "What?" I'm sure Franco said something to me, but I wasn't quite paying attention. He points to the pink splotch lingering on my neck, making me blush for a whole new reason. "Oh, no. I'm fine." I force my lips into a reassuring smile and try my best to forget all about Christian for the time being. Instead, I focus on the music playing softly in the back ground, humming along quietly to myself.

By the time I get to Escala the soft drizzle outside from earlier has turned into a full on downpour. I'm soaking wet before I can even get my umbrella out to protect myself. "I'll take your coat, Mrs. Williams." Christian helps me out of my beige trench coat and hangs it up by the door, leaving me in my soaking wet jeans and t-shirt. "Come with me." He leads me down a dark hallway and into a bedroom. He flicks the light switch next to me on and the room floods with a warm glow of light. "This will be your room. The closet is fully stocked as well as the dresser. To the right is your bathroom which is also fully stocked with any supplies you might want or need." I nod. This was explained to me before, although this is my first time actually seeing the room. It's gorgeously designed and the furniture is a perfect shade of ivory. "I'm sure you'll want some time alone to get settled in and to dry off." He casually runs one of his long fingers through a strand of my soaking wet hair and I avert my gaze to the floor. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. I'll expect you to be finished settling in by then." I can't tell for sure, but it sounds like he's smiling. "Yes, sir." I keep my head bowed as I stare impassively down at the ground. I don't look up until the door clicks shut behind me and I know he's gone. I look behind me to be sure he's gone, then I set my bag down on the bed and begin looking around. I browse the massive collection of designer clothing he's bought me, stroking each piece of material that my hand can find. There seems to be a pattern among the clothes he's bought me. Almost every single piece of clothing is blue, purple, or pink. Of course there are other color options for a few things, but not a lot. After having a thorough look around, I decide to take a break from looking at the clothes to unpack my bag. Christian insisted that I have no reason to bring any of my things here and that he could buy me anything I needed, but I brought my sketch pad and pencils anyway, along with a few other personal items I couldn't bear to part with even just for the short duration of my stays here. I sigh, tossing my sketch pad onto the nightstand, and take one last long look around the room. Then I strip out of my wet clothes and start a hot bath for myself to freshen up before dinner.

Christian Pov;

I've just taken my seat at the bar for dinner when I hear light footsteps coming down the hallway. I turn just in time to see Leila walking in. She looks stunning, freshly bathed and with her hair meticulously blow dried. Her lips curve into a small smile upon seeing me, but she quickly casts her eyes down and composes herself within seconds. She gracefully hops onto the stool next to me and crosses her legs. Then she glances up at me curiously, her wide eyes bright with curiosity.
"Good Evening, sir." She addresses me, her soft voice giving away no emotion.
"Good Evening, Mrs. Williams. I hope you're settling in okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." I cut myself off a piece of my smoked salmon and take a bite, then watch as Leila does the same, following my lead as usual. While she's still focused on eating, I reach out and run my fingers through a section of her smooth chocolate brown hair. "Your hair looks lovely, I'm glad you decided to blow dry it, otherwise I would've missed out on Franco's beautiful work."  I admire her hair, my mind drifting off to thoughts of the playroom and of braiding that beautiful hair of hers.
"Thank you, sir." My fingers trail down to the ends of her hair, brushing past her hip bone, then back up to stroke her cheek. Her cheek turns a light shade of pink as I touch it and I wonder what the rest of her skin will look like under a much less gentle touch. "Finish eating." I breathe, my lips inches from her ear.
"I already finished eating, Sir." My palms twitch at the hint of disobedience in her voice. I know from her background check that she has an extensive medical record, especially from her teen years, I read through it in detail, she's struggled with eating disorders for years. I know she's going to be difficult on this issue, but I'm prepared to be just as difficult.
"No, all of it." I order.
Her lips twitch into a smirk and she slowly pushes her plate away, sitting up higher in her chair.
"No." She says, looking directly into my eyes. For a second, she just smirks at me, neither of us saying a word. Then I grab her. I bend her over my knee, pushing the fabric of her dress out of my way, and swiftly pull her panties to the side, tearing the thin fabric in the process. Then my palm smacks into her backside hard, making her gasp in shock. "This is for disobeying me." My hand smacks into her again, this time closer to the back of her inner thigh, and she squeals burying her face in her hair. I hit her again, this time right in the center. Then another time on the left cheek. When I finally catch sight of her face I see she's smiling, clearly enjoying the nature of her punishment. I hit her one more time, then I flip her back upright and position her in her seat. She smiles breathlessly, looking down at the floor. "Now, eat." I demand, picking up her fork and placing it in her hand. Her smile disappears. "Yes, Sir." She breathes, taking the fork. She then begins eating, without looking at me. Her mischievous mood has gone as quickly as it came and with the help of my now aching palm has been replaced with her usual sweet submissive manner. I smile, pleased, as she squirms around in her seat, knowing her backside is surely ten times as red and sore as my hand. So it begins......