I let her wait. I let her wait a lot, actually. Locked in that dark pit with no way to measure time, it is a luxury I can afford at her expense. So she waits, a full day.
Returning the next day about the same time, rested and refreshed, a good meal in my belly, I consider my next course of actions with my captive carefully.
Then I start cleaning up a bit before pulling her from the pit. I clear anything she might use as a weapon against me across a bright yellow line painted on the floor of the old building, a line she won’t be allowed, or even able to cross.
Opening the trapdoor to the pit I toss her down one more piece of apparel.
“Slave, put that on, it’s your new collar†I tell her as I toss the metal and plastic thing to her.
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