Title:           The Way Part 10
Author:          ElephantInTheRoom
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/jkBu9RPN
First Edit:      Saturday 13th of February 2016 03:58:44 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Monday 29th of February 2016 02:57:12 AM CDT

>The rest of the morning, and afternoon, pass relatively uneventfully.
>Mr. Nowak finally ends up eating that disgusting plate you might have once called a breakfast.
>You finish the rest of your strawberries, picking at the remainder of your meal in an uncomfortable silence.
>With both of your meals finished your owner makes his way upstairs to begin his workday, but not before a long, encouraging pat on the head.
>You haven't spoken a word since he'd shared his real reasons for purchasing you.
>You're not sure the feeling would ever leave you.
>You had simply gazed back in disbelief.
>Hopelessness, despair, futility.
>But the worst part?
>He knew.
>And he smiled while he told you.
>You were a person...
>...well, you were sort-of a person.
>He didn't want a pet.
>He didn't even want a companion.
>You were his servant.
>A simple delivery mare.
>You were supposed to be special.
>A poor heroine, captured, transformed, abused, then rescued. All by a handsome, charming, but lonely man who only wanted a little companionship.
>That was supposed to be your life.
>Not this.
>You spend the day trying to keep your mind off of things, you don't have much luck.
>You flip through your library of movies, starting at least a dozen before switching to another in frustration.
>You pace about in the kitchen, muttering to yourself, pecking at the snacks he'd left for you, and lapping water out of your bowl on the floor.
>Sky blue, the same color as your collar.
>It even had your name on it.
>All this effort to make you feel wanted, perhaps even needed.
>In the end though, he only wanted a complacent little worker.
>And you'd already promised him your obedience.
>Your pacing extends to the hallway and you spend the better part of an hour in front of the mirror, keeping yourself company.
>Your old world was gone.
>Your family, the people you used to know, gone as well.
>Even if you couldn't remember them, there was still a hole there.
 
>Just how many people had been taken?
>Kidnapped, transformed, sold?
>Where did they all end up?
>Why were you chosen?
>Why did you end up a pegasus?
>And why had you not seen any unicorns?
>”They” had been looking for unicorns.
>”They” hadn't wanted you, so you ended up a slave instead.
>You return to your bed, you've managed to pass most of the day in angst and the sun is already setting.
>This was about the time your owner had finished with work yesterday.
>Was he going to come downstairs for another talk? To lay out more rules, give you more disappoint?
>To make your life even more meaningless than it already was?
>You huff, laying your head on the border of your bed and shutting your eyes.
>Sure enough, there are those heavy footsteps once again, on their way down the stairs.
>Did he expect you to greet him again, at the base of the stairs, tail wagging happily?
>Well, he isn't going to get it.
>Yeah, that'll show him, won't it?
>He'll come downstairs to find you sulking and think to himself, 'Oh dear! What a terrible jerk I've been, I'd better rut my little mare right this instant to make up for it'.
>All that and the first thing you think about is him fucking you?
>You really are pathetic.
>The couch shifts a little bit as he sits down, his legs resting beside you.
>You hear the sound of paper crinkling, unfurling.
>It's so damn noisy.
>You tentatively glance upward, careful to not let him see you looking towards him.
>He's got his face buried in the newspaper.
>So what, he's just going to come downstairs and sit beside you, silently?
>He won't even say hi? Ask you how your day was?
>It was awful, by the way.
>You could sure use some pats right about now.
>You leer at him through the paper, willing him to pay some attention to you.
>Your day was spent brooding over how awful he'd made your life, but now that he was here the only thing you could think about was getting a little TLC.
>You are really, really pathetic.
 
>The seconds tick by.
>His paper ruffles. He's moving his hand, turning the page, as his face briefly becomes visible.
>Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
>You bury your face in your bed.
>Did he see you staring at him?
>A few more seconds pass, painfully slowly.
>You risk another cautious glance up.
>Nothing has changed.
>Is he just going to sit there in silence all evening?
>Was he waiting for you to start a conversation?
>Did you even want to talk to him?
>You felt sad, despondent, bored, tense, anxious, ashamed...
>...and still just the slightest bit horny.
>This silence was going to be the death of you.
>Make it stop.
>Your bed rustles softly as you lift yourself out of it, your hooves clacking on the floor.
>No response, Mr. Nowak sits undisturbed, still reading away.
>You take several steps forward, moving to position yourself in front of him, intentionally laying down your weight as you shuffle away from your bed.
>Clack-clack, clack-clack
>He continues to sit stoically, unmoved by your now plainly obvious attempts to get his attention.
>Oh god dammit.
>You couldn't be more obvious at this point.
>He's doing this on purpose, isn't he?
>You nuzzle at his leg with your snout, the rough denim of his jeans scratching at your nose.
>He doesn't move an inch.
>It's another fucking game.
>You can guess what he wants by now.
“Hello? Mr. Nowak, sir?”
>There it is, he's already folding up his paper.
>”Well hello there dear. What can I do for you?”
>His bassy voice floods your ears, reverberating through your skull.
>You let it bounce around up there for a bit, staring up at him with your best 'I'm honestly not pleading, honestly' look.
>He doesn't flinch.
>Looks like you're going to need to go all the way if you want to get anything out of this little exchange.
“Can I umm... could you maybe... you know...?”
>He interrupts you as you trail off.
>”If you want something specific, you're going to need to speak plainly.”
>Welp, nothing ventured...
 
“I want you to pet me!”
>That came out a bit more forcefully than you expected.
>He didn't respond too well to your forwardness in the past.
>This little request was, however, quite a bit tamer in nature.
>Please don't go for the spray bottle again.
>”Hmm... you want my attention, do you?”
>Petting, attention, heavy petting, whatever. You just need something.
“I do! Is there s-something I could do for you to... umm... earn it?”
>He seems to ponder this for a moment.
>'Seems to' being the keyword. The instant those words left your mouth you could see a wry smile forming, like he'd already planned for your little request.
>You're starting to hate that smile.
>”As a matter of fact, there is. Tomorrow I'll be taking you outside for your first flying lesson. What I want from you is to be on your absolute best behavior. No distractions, no complications, just focus. Understand?”
>Outside? He's already planning on letting you outside?
>You'll even get to try out your wings for the first time.
>You can understand why he'd want you to agree to such a thing, but...
>...you're his. You wouldn't even think about doing something so stupid as running off the instant he opened his front door.
>Would you?
>You swore you wouldn't.
>You swore you wouldn't even think about it.
>You should stop thinking.
“I swear I'll behave, perfectly. I'll do everything you ask, I'll concentrate, I'll do my best. I promise.”
>He's still giving you the same smile.
>It's... a lot nicer than you'd thought a second ago. Warm and relaxing.
>”Perfect. I think that you deserve something special tonight, for being such a good girl for me so far. Why don't we watch a movie together then?”
>A movie? What's so special about that?
“We can watch a movie... together? That's-”
>”Oh, sorry dear, I almost forgot. Just this once, I'll let you sit on the couch with me. Maybe, if you do a good job tomorrow, we can talk about certain furniture privileges in the future.”
 
>Your heart skips a beat.
>You get to spend the evening on the couch, next to him.
>It sounds stupid, but suddenly can't think of anything you would have wanted more.
>Other than, well, you know...
>Maybe if you play your cards right though...
>Well, say something. You need to show him how much you appreciate this.
“That's great! Thank you! Thank you! I'd love that!”
>You're practically jumping for joy.
>Your hooves smack back onto the ground, you sway a bit as you regain your balance.
>You... were just jumping for joy.
>He chuckles lightheartedly.
>”Alright then, hop on up. I'll be choosing the movie though, I hope you don't mind.”
>You examine the couch. It's not that high up, and you were just jumping, this should be easy.
>You take a step back, sizing up the height.
>Ready... set...
>You lunge forward, pushing off of the ground as you do so.
>Your wings reflexively unfurl to give you a tiny burst of lift.
>You're in the air, almost there...
>You land hard on the corner of the couch with your belly, your forelegs and wings draped over the couch cushions and your rear smacking limp on the floor.
>Well shit, this is embarrassing.
>Mr. Nowak chortles in surprise before grabbing you by your sides and dragging you up.
>You let out a little coo as the tips of his fingers rub into your coat.
>Your rear hooves leave the ground. By the time you come to your senses you're laying down stretched out on the couch.
>Well, half of you is on the couch.
>The other half is in his lap.
>The barrel of your chest is laying over his legs, your own forelegs hanging over slightly.
>Oh god, please let him keep you like this.
>He audibly clears his throat.
>No no, please don't say anything.
>You lay there, limp, breathing heavily, doing your best to act inconspicuous.
>It's not working very well.
 
>Your eyes lock straight ahead.
>If you can't see him he can't see you.
>That's how it works, right?
>One one-thousand... two one-thousand...
>He's not saying anything.
>That's better than the spray bottle.
>One of his legs presses upwards on your chest as he shifts uncomfortably.
>But he hasn't removed you yet.
>You can feel the heat of his body through his jeans, it's flooding into you.
>This is perfect, you don't need a movie so long as he leaves you just like this.
>”This wasn't part of the deal sweetie.”
>There's that terrible sinking feeling again.
>Still...
>He could have picked you up at any point, moved you away.
“Can... can we make it part of the deal?”
>You turn your head towards him, giving him your best poker face.
>He's staring back at you, with a perplexed look.
>”I'm not sure what you're hoping to get out of this Polaris, I thought I was clear with you earlier.”
>He was clear. You're a servant, his worker.
>Not a toy. Not his pet.
>Still, he was at least prepared to let you sit next to him.
>He wasn't being as cold as he'd seemed before.
>You just need to think of something you could offer in exchange...
>But... what could you propose?
>Honestly, you're not sure you have anything else to give that he'd want.
>You had thought that you did.
>His husky voice cuts through your thoughts.
>”If I allow this, I expect that we won't have any more problems like we did earlier. Do you understand?”
>Like earlier?
>Like when you tried to fellate him.
>So what were you agreeing to here?
>What was he willing to agree to?
>It's not much, but maybe this is the first step towards becoming something more than a servant in his eyes?
>And his attitude might change, in time.
>You could hold out until then.
>Couldn't you?
“I understand sir.”
>”Alright then, but do you think you could move a little bit? You're cutting off the circulation in my legs.”
>Oh shit, you better fix that.
 
>You jolt up, scurrying to your hooves faster than you can ever remember scurrying.
>Alright, how to go about this.
>You turn yourself around, standing over his lap, positioning your forelegs on one side and your rear legs on the other.
>Satisfied that your weight will be evenly split you lower yourself down, ensuring your ribs aren't pressing too firmly against him.
>You could honestly be a little more comfortable, but it's not you that you're worrying about.
>You turn your head again, your eyes meeting his.
“Better?”
>”Better.”
>Mission accomplished.
>”Now... let's see what we've got.”
>He leans forward, stretching for the tablet you'd left lying on the ground.
>It's a little awkward, his chest pressing against your side and back as he reaches for it.
>You're not about to complain though.
>You'd just an entire day alone, anxious, and upset.
>You were going to savor every second of this.
>After a few moments he lays back, tablet in hand. He's turns on the TV starts scanning through the directory of movies.
>You fold your forehooves in front of you, resting your chin atop them and closing your eyes.
>Thump-thump, thump-thump
>You can feel his pulse in your chest.
>Thump-thump, thump-thump.
>And there's yours, adjusting to match his.
>Maybe this won't be so bad after all.
>You can just make out the sound of the opening credits as you let out a soft yawn.
>He's so warm, almost warmer than your bed.
>Everything's a little hazy, but that's alright, just as long as you don't fall asleep.
>You worked hard for this, you can't let it go to waste.
>Well, you hadn't worked for it yet, but you sure were going to.
>There's a little bit of weight on your back, a gentle pressure on the top of your head.
>That's his arm, and his hand.
>When did that get there?
>He's massaging your scalp, his fingers woven through your mane.
>You could die happy right now.
>Whatever you did to deserve this, you need to keep doing it, forever.
>You just need to rest your eyes a little.