Seduced By The Alphas Ch 07

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Trouble in Paradise

I was in the kitchen preparing dinner, it was two days before their wedding. It was simple fare, but something Master loved, roast beef, brown gravy, plain vegetables for accompaniment, and fresh baked bread with red wine. I overheard the loud exchange even from here, over the sounds of the hissing pots.

"You promised." She shouted.

I distinguished a loud slap. I was incredulous, she had hit him. I edged toward the door that I might hear better. They stood in the great room, facing one another. They were so engrossed they did not notice me.

"Birgitte be reasonable. I can't leave her locked up for a week!"

"OH Jesus!" She folded her arms and turned away, but only for a few moments. She spun around on her red stilettos, and looked him boldly in the eye. I had never seen him intimidated by a woman, not once. Surely she was playing with fire.

"We are going on our honeymoon, and your little cock sucking whore is not going to ruin it for me!" She shouted in his face. "SO WORK IT OUT!" She stormed from the room, and upstairs I head a door slam. He just stared blankly after her, and I crept back to my cooking lest I be seen.

Dinner was very subdued, they sat either end of the long table and I served. I had learned to give Master a sizable portion as he now fed me from his plate. I was no longer welcome to dine with him or on his level. I accepted this as I accepted all things, with dignity and grace. I had after all agreed to be his slave. She was icy to him, they ate in silence, it was overbearing.

She rose from the table first and departed without a word, she had barely eaten a bite. He sat there, absently feeding me from his hand. I could sense he was thinking, he was in a bind and somehow my future and my well being was being decided.

He did something I found most odd. He patted me on the head. "It will be alright." I realized then he must have noticed I had been watching them fight. I should not have underestimated his observance. He rose and went to his study.

I did the dishes and cleaned up as I always did.

I wonder if he would have to choose, would it be the proud overbearing Birgitte, or Lidia the simple slave girl? If he chose her what then?

Already he had trouble in his paradise.

It was my usual practice to linger by his office or the drawing room late in the evening, if he was alone. Most often he was, Birgitte loved his money but had little interest in how he earned it. Tonight she was nowhere to be seen, ominously she did not even call me to run her bath. I would probably face punishment for that tomorrow I imagined by his hand, as she would insist she had called me when we all knew she had not. He was on the phone but it was not business, he was talking about me.

"It would be a big help." I could hear he was agitated. The mantle clock chimed eleven in its deep melancholy tone. "Yes, it's a week, just a week, that's all. Thanks a million Bro."

The phone clicked down on the receiver. He had noticed me in the doorway. "Kom." I did with no trace of hesitancy. He rose from his place, his hand went to my upper arm, pinching the flesh. I so hoped he would not put me in the cell, anything to not have to go there.

This night he only had my solace, and Master being a very sexual being sought me rather than his inaccessible and angered fiancee. He took me to one of the lower bedrooms well away from the one they shared. He laid me out on the bed, took his clothes off and lay by me looking at me a long while in silence.

Finally he spoke. "Tell me Lidia if you could choose between me and Svend, who would you choose?"

My mind went blank.

He knew! Had it been that obvious?

He had the uncanny ability to always read my soul, my secrets, was there nothing I could close to him? I edged away. His arm blocked me.

"Before you get all smitten over my dear Brother there are a few things you should know....."

Was this merely malice, or indeed useful information,

I was unsure?

"It's no secret my little torn slave girl. I see how you look at him like bitch in heat. I've known for a long time, why do you think I made you get rid of the baby?"

Oh so cold hearted were his words I wanted to cry, I started to but fought back the terrible memories and the tears, on seeing his self satisfied smile at my misery.

"His wife......."

"Ona?" I ventured. He had my full attention.

"Yes, her." He was looking at me intently as he lay on his side in all his handsome glory, his head propped up on his arm, his voice most casual sounding almost lazy. "She was like you are to me, his slave you realize."

No, I could not believe it, he lied. I could see the love they shared, he was making this up.

He smiled, golden and lovely, once he would have merely had to just smile like he did then, and I would have been all his. However I could see beneath his beautiful exterior, to the ugliness inside.

"I can see you don't believe me girl, and you think I'm the only one who shares, do you?" He poked at me, I winced. I could not find the voice to answer.

This could not be truth!

He jumped lithely out of the bed. "I will prove it." He said in a voice that held great surety.

My heart sank. In a locked drawer in his office he pulled out a folder of photos, carelessly he flicked them on to the desk beneath the light of the green banker's lamp. Ona, collared, marked, and naked in my Master's much younger arms, I could not believe what I was seeing. There were other unidentified men in the pictures as well.

"She really was his slave." He reinforced.

My world went dark. The photos were damning, I pushed them about on the desk top. Again, he had told me the truth. He put them back in the folder and tucked them into the desk.

"So this next week when you go to my Brothers, remember Lidia there is the devil you know, and the devil you don't? It's up to you to choose."

*****

The day of his wedding was upsetting for me in so many ways. It marked a firm end to any fantasy I harbored, no matter how remote, that one day he would marry me.

I was not welcome at the wedding, nor the ensuing reception. I do not even know where it was held. My presence would have raised too many unwanted questions.

He came for me early, he was quiet, as though he was in preparation for some trial of his own. He let me get some exercise in the pool, and take a shower. Then it was time for him to leave me in my prison. I cried and cried, and tore the place apart.

*****

I figured it to be very late, I had fallen asleep on my crumpled bedding that was heaped on the floor. I sat bolt upright as I heard the key in the deadlock. For a fleeting moment in my confusion I thought it was him.

"Oh Master!" I scrambled from the floor all my dignity gone.

"No Lidia it's Svend." He opened the barred door.

The lingering scent of aftershave, my first sensation of him in the darkness. My instinct was to kneel, but he would not let me. Instead taking my hand, his grip was strong. He had mercifully not turned on the light, guiding me out into the basement utility area.

I could see he had come directly from the wedding reception, he wore a tuxedo, smart black and crisp white, his hair usually free, pulled back into a neat pony tail. Like Master he looked most different to me dressed this way, his immense shoulders appeared even larger than they were usually. Understated power in a civilized package, it was somehow very alluring, even to my confused and hurting senses.

I had learned to anticipate and read a man's body language with great accuracy, and tonight he seemed angry, annoyed. Master had taught me this instinct, or at the very least honed it. I even used to employ it with members of my family and strangers. It was imperative I read Master's changeable moods to perfection, many times it had saved me much unnecessary pain. However I had been so upset this day I was finding it difficult to discern if it was me he found displeasing, or something else. It did not help either that I did not know him at all well.

We ascended the steps to the first story, by the front door awaited my packed bag. He stood by the door looking at me. I paused and began to kneel by his shining black shoes.

"No Lidia. Get some clothes."

It was me he was annoyed by I was sure, the tone of his voice unsettled me. I was a burden, a liability. He had no wish to be my keeper in Master's absence. It was obvious. I stood dumbly, all I possessed was in the bag. I had very few items of clothing, Master preferred me naked, and as a result I found my attire had gradually dwindled to almost nil.

"It's late Lidia." He sounded tired and impatient. In response I pulled my blanket tighter about me. He sighed, opened the front door, set the alarm, and we left in his car.

I did my best to try to remember the way to his home, it was only a five minute drive. The Danish Street names were all but impossible to memorize for a non native such as myself. The roads meandered through quiet suburbs, in the dark I could grasp no distinguishing landmarks. I soon gave up trying.

His car entered the garage and he killed the engine. He got out of the car taking my bag and I followed him inside. Truthfully I preferred this house to Master's ostentatious one, this was a real home, warm, inviting, and decorated with love. As I passed again through his lounge room I found I could no longer look at the photos of her; somehow I felt my interpretation of this couple's loving relationship had been sullied by Master's hateful words and his dirty photographs.

Just like last visit he deposited my bag in his room. I lowered my eyes to the floor, dark thoughts flooding in to drown me.

He intended to get his full use of me then while I was in his care. Master was right, if I left him it would only be to more of the same.

I felt downtrodden and trapped. Acceptance, it was my only path to sanity, though recently I was not sure if sanity would be my reward for even this.

My veneer of social acceptance was slipping, I already knew that after almost four years being owned I could no longer adequately perform in public, nor on my own. The thought of doing so terrified me, often plaguing the nightly landscape of my dreams.

I watched him undress by the light of the lamp. I sighed, dropped my blanket from my narrow shoulders and climbed into bed. I hoped he had not heard it. The phrase, 'always be pleasing' ran over, and over, in my mind.

They were all the same, men. All the ones I had ever known at least. Pig headed, selfish brutes who never cared for anyone's pleasures but their own. They outlawed the words 'I' 'me' 'mine' and 'no' from my vocabulary. They took my offerings, they took my love, along with my pride, and dreams. Handsome and beastly all in one.

My thoughts strayed back to some though who seemed different, ones I did not know in everyday life. They were just voices and photos on the internet I had spoken with, yet they made me question, and I still sometimes wondered if a man could be gentle, caring, and yet strict, and still be able to keep me as his slave? Did this in between truly exist or at that point was it all just a mutual game?

I laid on my back in the bed and looked up at the light fixture on the ceiling, vague light filtered in from the surrounding neighborhood's exterior lights through the trees. I was waiting for him to touch me, but his touch never came. Instead only his voice.

"In the morning Lidia we are going to have a serious talk."

I did not answer, I already knew silence was my friend.

I had slept little, I had after all slept most of the previous day. I lay still in the big, high, bed hugging a pillow, watching the first subtle hints of dawn become the light of the new day. This, the first morning my Master was a married man. I wondered where he was at this moment and what he was doing? How did it feel this legendary thing called marriage? My heart ached as I would, I believe, never know. His brother beside me stirred and I shoved my thoughts aside, feigning sleep as he stretched and got out of bed. Today I would with every fiber avoid him.

To that end I languished in the bed, my bodily needs finally forcing me to surface, almost immediately he had heard me in the bathroom.

"Lidia." He called from the kitchen, the way he announced my name was not at all in the harsh manner Master often addressed me in.

I sheepishly appeared, still in nothing more than my grandmother's cobalt blanket. He smiled and tapped one of the bar stools, I sat where he had instructed me to, and he pushed a plate of food towards me. It now felt most wrong to eat off a plate, had it taken such little time to reduce me to no more than an animal. I felt so shamed.

"You really like that blanket don't you?"

I just nodded. I was determined not to incriminate myself before this man, nor allow him to undermine the walls I had built. I now found myself wishing I had never looked at him so plaintively that day in Master's plush drawing room. He was going to ask me some very difficult questions I sensed, and he was no more a savior than my existing Master was. I had now been presented with irrefutable evidence.

"You really should eat." He encouraged, bringing me my tea. He set the mug down and looked at me very hard. I avoided his steely gray eyes. "I asked you this once before, and you could not answer me, do you Lidia really want to go back there to Frej?"

I bit my nails and looked past him out the window, the first tell tale yellow leaves were beginning to fall. "It will soon be winter Sir."

"Yes, it will, but that is not what I asked."

He was patient, I had to give him that, Master would have slapped me for less.

I took a bite of the omelet he had made, it tasted surprisingly good. I figured if my mouth was full I would not have to answer. He sat and drank his coffee, the phone was ringing in his office but he made no move to answer it.

"If I have to sit here all day and wait for you to answer me Lidia, I will."

He still did not seem angry. Firm yes, possibly frustrated, but not angry. I ate every bite on my plate.

"Did you get enough?"

I nodded in affirmation, to be honest even this small meal had made me excessively full. It had been a while since I had eaten well.

"I know Lidia you have long overstayed your visa."

I cringed, I was not going to answer that. I had no desire to be turned over to the authorities and deported. Nothing awaited me but poverty and shame in the USA.

"I know he is cruel to you. I think I understand what has happened, and what he has done. I am not sure if things are better for you now he is with that woman or worse. Why don't you tell me?"

It was a seductive question. I dared to gaze at him for the briefest of moments, and bit my lip. I thought of the dark cell, the almost nightly ritual of beatings, and my shame. I so wanted his mercy, his help. However, Master's words stuck in my head. "Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't.........."

His powerful arms were crossed over his chest in an attitude of interrogation. I was well aware he would keep up his verbal assault until I gave him what he was seeking. I looked to the floor at the slate tiles, so many beautiful colors ran through the stone, there was no cheap linoleum in his home. I needed to hear one thing from him first, that which I knew, and he must tell me himself, freely, honestly.

"Was Ona your slave?" I blurted out. I had to know.

He took the last gulp from his coffee mug, the smell of it was strong in the kitchen. I had always loved the aroma of it but never fancied the drink myself, it made me feel hyper and ruined my already tiny appetite. He leant forward over the counter top, as he did so I found I unconsciously leant back, he scared me just like Master did. He put the cup down on the granite, taking a deep breath.

"Yes, she was Lidia. Very much so..."

He was a beast after all, there was no chance of salvation, only more of the same. I slid off the stool and ran into the bedroom.

I hid beneath the covers of his bed, why I chose it I do not know. It seemed in that moment of blind despair my only option. I knew he stood in the doorway quite a time observing me. However he pressed me no further, instead he retreated to his office and the demands of his work and let me vent my grief.

I did not stir until very late in the afternoon, my mind was churning with my ragged thoughts. I would, I decided, keep him at arm's length like I did any officer of the law who had ever questioned me artfully, hoping for an inconstancy in my story, or a break in my resolve. I would do as he asked, avoid his prying, and when Master came to collect me next Sunday evening I would return to him without a word of protest. He had asked me to choose, and I had chosen.

To bolster my fragile feelings I drew on my most rigid slave soul. I would be strong, I would be stoic. Rather than be idle, I made him dinner, his home was well stocked with food, he appeared to eat very well. I set the table with only a place for him at the head of it.

It was late before he emerged from the office, I was aware he had been looking up from his desk all day at my activity in the kitchen. I had at times accidentally caught his eye glancing away swiftly. I did not wish to give him any reason to further question me.

He smiled when he saw what I had prepared for him, his smile was warm, unlike his younger brothers. If he held ugliness inside he masked it well, but I did not know him, not if I was brutally honest.

He sat at the table and let me attend him in silence. I had become most skilled at serving and not being noticed, especially now Birgitte had come into my life. He ate and did not seem at all bothered I did not eat with him, or the fact when I was not getting him something I knelt naked at his feet. This was irrefutable proof to me he was a Master, and he was used to the service I could give; and that Ona had lived just as I did.

Dinner over he pushed back his chair, he went into the lounge room and laid across his sofa, feet up to watch the news. I cleared away the meal picking at the leftovers, they satisfied me. I did not really wish to keep him company, but I knew he would insist so I sat again on the carpet nearby.

I caught more of the television than I had in the past. All my efforts to study the language had paid off. I was at least feeling more comfortable as my comprehension grew. Though the words and meanings still often eluded me, or rose in my consciousness all too slowly to provide a useful or instant response. He was understanding of this and always chose to speak in my own language, even if at times he fumbled with the words or the meanings.

"There are many ways to be a slave Lidia." He said suddenly.

My heart plummeted, he did not intend to let my histrionics of this morning dampen his line of questioning. He had pressured me, let me rest, and merely resumed. Cunningly he was just going to keep changing tact to try to move me to tell all.

"You do it very beautifully, I can see why Frej takes his risks. I really can."

He was still looking at the television; images of violence; Israel, ukraine. Unbridled aggression, twisted hate and avarice, it was the nature of human kind, only the privileged seemed free of it. However in reality it tainted every level of society, even the seemingly outwardly blissful, suburban life, the jaws of a man's violence rent those innocents behind closed doors. Dark taboos, like the ones Master and I lived in his home. Like me the silent victims bearing no names, with no will to protest the wrongs done to them.