Sam hated his reflection. Staring up at him from the sink water was an unruly mess that he barely associated with himself. His blonde hair had lengthened in over a month and the stubble on his jaw was threatening to become a full blown beard. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his form had suffered from starvation. Grey eyes that had once been filled with fire were dimmed from cruel experience. He barely recognized the person that was peering back at him from the warm pool, a twisted mockery of what he had once been.

The image shattered as ripples moved across the water, dispelling the cruel result of his torment. A massive hand tested at the water, droplets flying as it rose once more. Light played across the moist skin and refracted from the droplets as they fell. Sam followed the hand, past the wrist and up the arm. His grey eyes fell upon the blank face of Lyria who took one look at him and looked set to walk away to handle her own affairs after making certain the water was good enough for him not to freeze in.

"Wait." He said, the sound of his own voice surprising him.

Lyria's blue orbs fell over him once more like chips of solid ice. There was very little warmth to find in her gaze or her expression. The week of silence he had raised most certainly hadn't earned him any point from the elf. Her elegant brows fell and she tapped a finger against the side of the sink. He noted that the nails were freshly painted blue. The shade was much darker than the normal shade, almost sapphire really. He rather found that he liked it, made them seem like little jewels studding her digits.

Sam swallowed hard. "I'd... like you to bathe me." He said.

Lyria's mouth was set in a tight line at that. "Is that so? Well, I'm not sure I'm feeling up to that, Sammy. Given the silent treatment you've been giving me this past week."

Sam blanched. "I'm sorry, Lyria. I've just been... thinking."

That was a good way of saying dealing with an internal crisis of identity. After the long string of denials he'd put himself through he just wanted to stop being like he was now. He felt as hollow and vacant inside as he had expected when first undertaking this long resistance. There was no real reason behind what he did but for a desire to preserve his dignity. He reflected now that in his current state there was very little dignity for him to find. He was just drifting along, only not dead from thirst or starvation because Lyria bothered to keep him alive.

The miniscule man fell to his knees before the elf, bowing his head slightly. He looked and felt a far cry from the individual Lyria had first brought into her home. He needed something to strive towards or to aspire to. Something that could give him a drive that he lacked and had been lacking for some time now. At this point anything was better than living like he currently was. There was nothing human about it, nothing dignified about it. Maybe that made him weak. Maybe that made him less of a man. He found that at this point he was far past caring what anyone else might think. Lyria was his only judge in this place.

"I have nothing. I feel nothing. I've lost everything that mattered, I can't find a purpose living like I have. Life without purpose, without drive, and without feeling is just existing." He said.

"Please, Lyria. Give me something that makes me think I'm alive again. I don't care how humiliating it might be. Please help me." Sam choked out.

The elf said nothing for the longest time. The silence was positively deafening and part of him feared that she would deny him that. That she would let him live as a shell of a person in her shadow forever, keeping him alive so he could scurry about in ways that amused her. Then he saw it. A glint of sapphire placed down before him. His eyes rose from the nail of her index finger and to her face. He saw the ice in her eyes still remained but there was something else behind the eyes that he couldn't quite identify.

"Kiss it. If you want to be my pet and gain some purpose then kiss my nail until I tell you to stop." Lyria stated.

Sam stared at the offer before him. He stared at the warped reflection of himself that stared back at him from the surface of that jewel. The word pet echoed in his skull for what felt like an eternity. If he kissed it then he'd formally be recognizing and saying without speaking a word that she owned him. That he was lesser than she was. Lyria would keep the promise she made the first day and his final defeat would be at hand. Could he really just sever the last tie he held to what he had once been?

It wasn't even really a question for Sam at that point.

He lowered his face towards the offered nail and pressed his lips to the flawless surface. He kissed at the nail as though it were his life line, his dry lips cracked, making the kisses somewhat painful. He didn't dare stop even as part of his brain screamed at him to; following the order that Lyria had given him without fail. Likely the elf was getting off to this subservience, he half expected her to be rubbing herself off while he worked. Even with that knowledge in mind he continued to kiss at her nail.

"Enough."

The voice cut through his thoughts and he halted his attentions, staring up at Lyria. The elf had allowed a very tiny smile to cross her lips. She moved her finger and offered him a light and patronizing pat on the head with the digit. He felt something snap inside him that that and felt something wash over his mind. Relief perhaps? It was what he chose to believe in any case as the elf started stroking down his back gently.

"I must say, you resisted me much than I expected. Your will is unquestionably strong, pet, it was just pointed in the wrong direction. I was never the enemy; I wanted and still want to make you happy and content. Never forget that." Lyria said, her lyrical voice soothing.

Sam nodded as the elf stroked him, silently pleased he'd at least exceeded her expectations. She offered him her hand and he accepted with a little smile of his own. They didn't talk through the bath, nor through breakfast or her morning run. It was enough for him to feel like some weight had been taken off of his shoulders. His new goal was slowly emerging in his mind. If Lyria's intention was to make him happy then he should try to keep her happy in kind. It was vague but it was better than what he'd had this entire last month.

After the run Lyria slumped back on the couch in her running attire, taking him from her pocket and settling him on her open palm. She was sweaty as she had not yet taken her second shower, her flesh slick from the exertion of her exercise. Even like this she still managed to look beautiful, Sam found himself taken with her in this state. It made her look more... fallible he supposed, more personable. Not the imposing and domineering Lyria but a normal woman who had come home from a bit of exercise.

"My feet feel a bit sore. I've been up and around the office so much this past week. Why don't you give them a nice massage? There's a clear task for you, pet." The elf said.

Sam blinked at that before he stared down at her titanic feet below. He doubted she'd feel anything but a light tickle from his ministrations. Still she was right, it was at least a goal that he could work with for the first time in a month. He even managed a slight smirk before turning his gaze back to the elf. It was certainly better than waiting around in her heel all day just sitting around and doing nothing.

"Why not? It's not like I had any plans for anything today." He said, chuckling nervously.

Lyria offered him a smile. "There we go, pet, now you're sounding a little better. Here."

She placed him down on the other end of the couch and kicked off her running shoes, followed closely by tossing her socks away. That done she laid back on the couch and placed her feet up on the couch. Sam swallowed as he stared up at them. He'd seem them up close before but staring up at them like this really gave him a sense of scale. Sweat glistened on their surface and as she flexed and curled her toes above the bottom of her feet creased and wrinkled. The smell this close was also rather oppressive, heavy with sweat and very little of her scented soap remaining.

The diminutive human walked up to the walls of flesh, watching his footing due to the impressions created in the couch. His fingers pressed against the clammy flesh of her heel, his arousal growing. Sam moved his hands in circles on the surface of the skin, pressing again her as much as he could manage. His efforts earned him a giggle from Lyria, her toes wriggling in delight above. She shifted her foot ever so from the tickling he gave her, knocking him back on his back.

Sam stood again, glaring at the elf's feet in annoyance. Of course she would be ticklish. Just the way to make his task that littlest bit more difficult. He suspected her motives behind this task was partly to give him something to do, and partly because she liked feeling powerful. It wasn't a massage in the classic sense, though that didn't bother Sam as much as it might have once. Certainly it was humiliating but after doing pretty much nothing for quite some time he found this task quite refreshing. He just needed to figure out how to approach this without getting knocked over again.

After striding back up to Lyria's foot he opted to try and cling to the bottom of her foot, gripping her heel and trying to hold himself up on it. He found getting a good grip was actually quite difficult as the flesh of her foot had smoothed out once her feet had stopped moving. Not only that but the sweat clinging to them made holding on once he found his grip even more challenging. He ended up falling off just after he managed to reach the arch of her foot, landing on the couch and growling in irritation.

He stopped for a moment and pondered the problem. One thing Razor had often told him was that if the obvious solution to a problem won't work then seek out an unorthodox method. It was then that he realized this wasn't about power, or just giving him something to do. The elf was testing his creative thinking. She could very easily make the job much simpler by setting her feet on their sides or creasing the skin at the bottom of her foot. Instead she made it difficult for him. Maybe he was reading a tad too deeply into it; however when it came to Lyria the obvious answer was rarely the correct one.

It was as he pondered the situation that his eyes fell over the leg of her sweat pants and he found the idea struck him. The leg was rolled up a bit as her sweat pants would otherwise reach down a little over her feet. This exposed the underside a little bit which was a much softer fabric that was easily removed. If he could manage to get a bit of the fabric them maybe, just maybe... yes that could very easily work if he could get the material.

Sam strode around her feet and towards the fabric of her sweat pants, gripping handfuls of the blue fabric and starting to climb. "A bit off from your target, pet, my feet are further that way." Lyria said as she watched him with amusement.

The young man ignored the comment and climbed up the leg of her pants until he worked his way to the top of her leg. Once here he moved to where some of the underside was exposed in the fold and started grabbing handfuls. The fabric was light and fluffy, almost like cotton but had some strength behind it. Sam strained as he pulled at the fabric with all of his might, the stubborn area just refusing to come loose. He shifted the direction he pulled to try and work it out and grinned when he heard a tearing sound.

The next moment he fell back, holding handfuls of the stringy soft substance for his troubles. The bits were nice and long however he suspected he'd probably need at least another handful for durability's sake. After another struggle with the fabric that left him red in the face Sam came away from the endeavor with feathery blue strings. With these gathered up he sat down on her exposed ankle and set to work on his next project. All through it he could feel Lyria's eyes silently watching him.

He wound up a number of them together and then tied them off into segments. He tested the strength as he worked, removing weaker links in favor of stronger ones. When he found out he didn't have enough he slung what he did have over his shoulder and went to gather more. It was time consuming but Lyria hadn't set a time for his little goal to be completed. Not only that, it was her day off so it wasn't like she had anywhere to be. He found himself enjoying the work, simple though it was. It felt good to be productive once again.

When he managed to finish his little device he held it up. A blue makeshift rope of somewhat short length was the fruit of his labor, not nearly enough to hope to climb the steps but enough to help with his task. Lyria squinted at Sam and smiled when she noted his creation. The smile pleased him in some way, feeling as though he'd passed whatever test she had set forth for him. Of course he still needed to put the thing in action and see if it would even hold his weight up as he worked.

He slung the thing over his shoulder and walk towards the top of her foot. The climbing here was a bit difficult given the smoothness of her skin but Lyria moved her foot slightly forward to give a slope for him to climb. He gave her a half glance back in appreciation as he climbed towards her toes. Being here certainly brought back memories, bittersweet ones of being pleasured between the digits in the night. With a dry swallow the young man balanced himself against her big toe, swinging himself around so he was on the underside of the digit.

With one foot on the webbing between her toes he removed the rope and slung it up and over the large digit with the other end pinned under his foot. He got it on the first try thankfully and managed to tie the rope off easily enough. With that done he tied the other end around his waist and tested the slack remaining. Not much really, an inch or an inch and a half but it was better than before. Most of the sweat likely was gone by now so that would certainly make his job much easier.

With a deep breath Sam slowly worked his way down to the ball of her foot and started rubbing his hands in circles on the flesh. It looked rather like he was climbing a wall or cliff face, honestly it kind of felt like it. A very soft and supple cliff face that smelled of sweat. When Lyria wriggled her toes the rope shifted a bit but held strong. Sam smirked at his own cleverness, silently thanking his departed mentor for giving him the tools to think outside the box. The female elf that was his owner giggled slightly but continued to let him work for some time. Sam allowed himself to become absorbed in the very simple task, enjoying the feeling of Lyria's skin beneath his fingers.

After a bit of time the elf abruptly shifting her leg and moved the foot he was working on forward. When the young man looked down he found himself looking down not at the cushiony couch but the long drop to the carpet below. Fear lanced through his heart as he found himself dangling by the makeshift rope with no purchase in the open air. His eyes met Lyria's cool blue ones, finding a dangerous light flickering there. Not the one that flashed when he pissed her off on those rare occasions but more like the light that had flashed during the first night they met.

"How very clever of you, Sammy. You see? You were being silly. You won't lose yourself being my pet. You are still the same quick thinking young human you have been for some time." Lyria said at length.

"Maybe." Sam said, his tone still a bit unsure as to the truth of that.

The elf rolled her eyes. "Oh come off it, you enjoyed yourself if that is an indication. No reason to keep yourself from something you enjoy." The elf said, moving her foot once more so she could reach down and tear the rope so she could move Sam closer to her face.

The young human swallowed hard as he dangled by the rope in her fingers. "I guess there are worse things than having a drop dead sexy elf as an owner." He joked nervously.

Lyria chuckled. "That's more like it. I'll make a half decent pet out of you yet, Sammy, mark my words. Now, let's go get cleaned up again shall we?"

Sam nodded as she tore the rope from his body and allowed it to fall to the floor without a second thought. He supposed he was correct. In the world they lived in, where mega-corporations exploited the masses, where dragons moved people around like pawns in an endless game, and where diseased mutants stalked alleys and sewers there were worse fates than living as Lyria's pet. She lived very well which meant in turn he would live very well. Hell compared to his life up to this point he was practically riding high. The only thing that nagged at his brain was that his life was no longer really his own, it belonged to another. No matter how he tried to rationalize it the thought set in his gut in a raw kind of way, refusing to leave.