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Millie woke up at his call and looked towards the source of the delicious smells. She crawled out of bed and towards the food, her stomach growling hungrily. He was feeding her on the floor. She knew what that meant--that she wasn't allowed at the table. They had fed her on the floor before, but never such delicious food. She didn't bother using her fingers to pick up the food. That would take too long. Instead, she pushed her face into the bowl and scarfed it down. She burned her tongue, but didn't slow down. She drank from the bowl, sucking the water up greedily. It was the sweetest water she'd ever had. She wanted to thank her master for the food, but she couldn't stop herself from eating.

Millie squeaked with fear and pain. Instinctively she curled up and covered her head with her arms to protect it. Had she done something wrong? When another blow didn't fall, she peaked up at him from between gray tangled locks of hair. Her soft grey eyes were sparking with tears.

((It's up to you. I'm flowing your lead here. wink ))

She didn't believe him. No one hit for "good." Unless it was for a good laugh. But he was still being kind...mostly...even if he was scary. She nodded her head slightly to indicate that she understood but made no move to touch the food again.

Had she eaten enough? She had eaten the equivalent of two days' rations but only about half the amount he had put in the bowl. She didn't was to risk another kick for a little more food. She knew she was sturdy and could endure a lot of abuse from experience, but she didn't want to test it. Not with him.

He was leaving? That wasn't good. But he wasn't chaining her up either. That was good.

After he left, she cautiously got to her feet and started to explore the penthouse. She was very careful not to open closed doors--she knew they were closed for a reason.

Then she found the bathroom. She desperately needed a bath. Would her master be mad if she cleaned up? Surely not. After all, then she wouldn't smell or get him dirty when he pet her. But she didn't know where the towels were. She decided she would wash and then air dry in the tub so that she didn't drip water in the bathroom. A mess would incur punishment; that much she knew.

So she bathed. She found a small sliver of soap and scrubbed her entire body. She even washed the rags she wore--she didn't know where to find clothes she was allowed to wear. She rinsed and took care to rinse the tub too, so that it was just as clean as when she found it. She stood in the middle of the tub for nearly half an hour until she was sure she could walk without dripping. She left the bathroom and found the sliding doors to the balcony.

She stepped into the sun and grinned. It had been so long since she'd seen the sun. It felt warm on her skin. She spread her rags out on the deck so they could dry. The day was so warm and comforting that she just stretched out and went to sleep.

Millie woke up with a start. Her master was home. She hurriedly put on the rags again, which were mostly dry, and slipped through the glass doors again. She wasn't on all fours but she kept her posture hunched and submissive. There was a delicious smell in the kitchen, but it couldn't be for her. She'd already eaten today.

More food? She didn't trust it. He was going to kick her again. She crouched next to the bowl and picked at the fries with her fingers, keeping an eye on him. If he moved towards her, she would at least have time to cover the vitals.

As soon as he turned his back, she quickly stuffed her mouth with as much food as it would hold. She chewed and swallowed as quietly as possible. If she choked, he'd probably preform the Heimlich with his boot. That was if he didn't let her die first.