The Slave Bride Ch 10

*Trigger warning* HEAVY Nonconsensual elements, dissociation and other triggering content are featured in this chapter. I will indicate where they start and stop with ***Start/***Stop so that you can skip the graphic details. Rape/incest is still mentioned throughout the chapter, though not graphically depicted.

All characters are 18+

Thank you.

*

Gisselle woke slowly. It took time for her to retrace her steps. Memories came flitting back as she blinked in the morning sun. The comforter beneath her was soft and warm. She moved slightly. There was a twinge of soreness between her legs. She smiled at the memory, as embarrassing as it seemed now.

Just then, she felt a warm hand reach over to stroke her hair. Benjamin. She smiled again, comforted somewhat by his gentle touch. Still, she didn't turn to face him. She was still an object to him, she reminded herself. Despite the way he made her feel last night, she was still, at the end of the day, his slave.

"Gisselle," his voice was soft and somehow just as gentle as his hand. Instinctively, she turned towards him. He was laying there, his bare chest and muscular arms exposed. He patted the bed beside him, beckoning her to move closer.

She looked at him, unsure of what he wanted. Eventually, she decided to move closer. As soon as she did she felt his warm arms wrap around her. He pulled her head in close to his chest. Gisselle listened to his heartbeat.

"I hate to surprise you like this," Benjamin said genuinely, "There's going to be an event here in a few days. Lots of other masters and slaves will be here. It's pretty typical, but I know that it may seem like a lot for you."

Benjamin could see the anxiety crossing her face. Even so, she nodded slowly. There was something so pleasing about how she agreed despite how uncomfortable she looked. He kissed her forehead, promising that he would explain how it all would work over breakfast.

The table was set with various plates of fresh fruit and pastries. Their sweet scent wafting gently towards Gisselle. She was filled with nervous energy and trying desperately to hide it. The smell made her sick. Her stomach, despite being empty, felt nauseous. She forced herself to reach across the table and spoon a few sliced strawberries onto her plate. She hesitated, pushing them back and forth until one of her owners spoke.

"We are going to have company," Cadence said acutely. "In a few days, the house will be filled with different slaves and their masters. They will all be staying for a total of two days, as is customary. They have traveled a long way to come here and it will be very important for you to show them respect."

"It would be a good time for you to understand more about life as a slave. There will be plenty of time for you to talk and ask questions when you are alone with the other slaves." Benjamin added.

"You, however, are not allowed to speak to any of the owners. Unless that is, they were to ask you something directly. If that is the case, I hope that you would show your utmost respect." Cadence said, "Your actions and words do reflect onto us, as we are not only the hosts but your owners as well."

"We will start prepping you today." Benjamin stated, "We want you to feel prepared and maybe excited about meeting some new people. Despite how nervous you are right now."

He squeezed her hand gently and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes were very insistent, waiting for her to look back at him before he moved away.

"Cadence is going to show you how to dress and act," Benjamin said starting to get up from the table, "Meanwhile, I have some business to attend to."

"I know this must seem overwhelming. But there is no better way for you to truly understand what your life can be if you stay here unless you see others who have made similar choices." His eyes were penetrating as he spoke.

It was now just the two of them in the dining room. Gisselle felt strange without Benjamin present and wondered what it was that he was doing. He had left very abruptly. Cadence's voice drew her back to the present.

"You do not have to be friends with the people who stay. We simply thought that you were lonely and would like some new company. How much better for everyone if that company could also help you to understand what life as a slave is meant to be. Now. Stop pushing that around your plate. Finish your meal and meet me upstairs. I'll help you get dressed and let you know what the expectations are for the next few days."

He left the table to head upstairs. Gisselle left all alone, sat at the table. She was still pushing around her fruit unable to even take a small bite. Questions popped into her head, one after another. How many people would be there? Where would they be staying? Where would she sleep? Would it be like the place they had visited? Would the men be mean?

She could hear the ticking from the grandfather clock behind her. When she turned to look at it, she was surprised to see how long she had been sitting there alone, pondering what would happen in the next few days. With a deep breath, she forced herself to eat the food on the plate and then went upstairs.

It was such a strange feeling to walk up that large and extravagant set of stairs and not feel her feet. She felt herself being pushed forward, against her will, as if someone else entirely was making her move. Before she realized it, she had made it across the hallway and into Cadence's room.

"What's the matter?" She felt his hand brushing her cheek. His touch made her blink. She looked up at him, unable to speak. His eyes were full of concern.

The look on his slave's face was troubling. There was nothing behind her eyes. She stared vacantly at him.

"I apologize," her voice sounded distant and cold, "nothing is the matter."

Her attempted smile was not believable in the least. Cadence smoothed her hair back. "Look at me."

She did. But her face was blank.

"Giselle,"

"I'm sorry Sir. I don't feel well."

"I see. Did you finish eating?"

"Yes Sir."

"Very good. Come with me. I'll get you cleaned up," with that, he took her by the hand and lead her into the bathroom. "I'm going to undress you and you will get in the tub."

She shook her head.

Cadence lifted an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

At this Gisselle burst into tears.

A bit taken aback, Cadence spoke more softly.

"I promise not to hurt you, precious one. Let me take care of you."

Still, she shook her head, taking a step back.

"Please," he said feeling overwhelmed at her response. He moved her hands away from her face and looked at her as he spoke slowly, "You're alright my love. Tell me. What is it?"

In between her staggered breaths, "Benjamin. I asked for him to-" she cut herself off.

"To what?" Cadence's concern was growing now.

"I asked him to touch me," She said through tears, "Please don't be mad. I had to tell you because you said when I first got here that you were supposed to be the first to touch me there and now you are going to punish me somehow when all these people come. Just like the girls that we saw before. I just know that-"

"Gisselle," Cadence spoke sternly taking her chin in his hand, "They are not coming to punish you. I explained what they are here for already. But as for what you did with my brother,"

"Please Sir-"

"Do not interrupt me." Cadence said harshly, "When we spoke with you the other day. We told you that you could choose. We said that you were not going to have to live by the same rules you did when you first came here. It isn't fair to set that standard for someone who has never been trained. There is nothing to apologize for. You made a choice last night. And you have every right to make your own choices about that sort of thing. Consider that an old rule. You have no need to follow it now."

"So you-"

"Get in the tub," He spoke gently again. Filling the tub with water as she stepped in, "You have broken no rule Gisselle."

Tenderly, Cadence washed his slave's face and dried her tears. He watched in silence as she slowly started to come down. She made eye contact with him for the first time that day of her own accord. When he saw her expression he was filled with warm protective emotion.

"How do you feel now?" he asked.

"Better," Her voice was quiet and raw.

When he had helped her out and dried her off, he wrapped her up in a towel and sat her on his lap. He let her hair get his shirt wet as he held her rocking back and forth. Gisselle's eyes were puffy and red from crying but the gentle rocking motion made her feel at ease. She closed her eyes.

"There is nothing for you to be afraid of," he said kindly.

When the day finally arrived, Gisselle did exactly as she was asked. She wore nothing except a metal chastity belt with a leather harness. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek, high ponytail. She had very little makeup on, but what she was wearing accentuated her features.

People started coming in through the front door. She waited beside her two masters. It was her responsibility to take care of the gentlemen's coats and their keys. There were five other masters there. Most of them were in their mid 30's or 40's some looked a bit older.

The slaves, however, were all young. The youngest appeared to be no more than twenty. She had gorgeous red hair that spouted out in thick ringlets all around her face and over her shoulders. Beside her were two blonde women. thin and elegant. They sat perched on either side of their owner on one of the luxurious leather couches in the large sitting room.

The room, which Gisselle had never seen before, was hidden behind two sliding black doors. The doors were very tall were usually locked. The inside of the room was painted a dark shade of green. Leather couches and velvet seats made a U shape in front of the large white fireplace. Long velvet curtains hung over the windows, blocking out all of the light from outside. The massive logs burned bright enough to bathe the room in a romantic glow.

Giselle noticed that there were a slave and master sitting in one of the darker corners of the room. She was kneeling in front of him as he sat on the bench in front of an antique grand piano. She walked slowly up to the man, one hand behind her back, the other holding a silver tray.

Gisselle walked slowly and approached the man without speaking, just as Cadence had told her to do with all of the male guests. The man took one of the drinks from the tray. Gisselle felt strange that he did not recognize her presence. He didn't even look at her. He merely continued speaking to his slave as if the tray had floated to him all on its own.

Gisselle made her rounds, ensuring that all the guests had been served. Once Benjamin noticed that she had finished, he signaled for her to come closer.

"Take the other slaves into the parlor," He said, "Make sure they get something to eat."

Gisselle bowed her head just slightly, "Of course, Sir."

As she walked away she could hear the man that Benjamin was talking to. He seemed to be commenting on her appearance. She wished that she could stay just a moment longer and listen. Was that something Benjamin would encourage? Did other Masters ignore other people's slaves? Or did they envy them? What did it matter anyway, she was only pretending to be a slave now. To her dismay, she did not dislike it quite as much as she had thought.

As she collected the other women and lead them into the adjoining room, she thought of Benjamin. There was a different tone in his voice altogether. Something confident and controlled. There was not so much as a hint of affection. She couldn't quite decide what she thought of that.

The women sat in a circle around the table. Each woman had a spot with their name, or their master's name in some cases. Gisselle had not known that getting to keep a name was a privilege among slaves.

The women sat, sipping their tea. Gisselle closed the door behind them as she was told. There were no other doors or windows in the large room. It was an ornate room. Large, old paintings hung on the walls. There was a bookshelf built into the wall, filled with very precious old books. There were many places to sit and lots of flowers that Gisselle had arranged by picking them from the gardens.

"How long have they owned you?" said a younger Asian woman with long hair. She was wearing a revealing floor-length dress and gold chains around her wrists.

"One year next month," Gisselle was supposed to say, though it wasn't true.

The women paused and nodded slowly.

"It's just as well," said one of the nameless blondes, "You'll be used to it soon,"

"Though," her doppelganger replied, "If you get to stay here, it wouldn't be bad for you."

It was mostly quiet after that. Gisselle pondered the woman's words. She tried to remember their master's face, but couldn't recall. Whoever he was, he had not even allowed them to keep their names. She felt her stomach drop at the thought.

A girl with green eyes spoke up just then. She had been silently sipping her tea until now. Setting down her cup, she looked at the women around the table.

"We should all count ourselves lucky."

This statement caught the other women's attention as they turned towards the green-eyed girl to hear more.

"Without our masters," she began, her mouth suddenly curling into a smile only to fade away just as quickly. "We would still be slaves."

A few of the girls looked away, embarrassed.

Confused by the girl's statement, Gisselle asked quietly, "How can that be?"

The girl gave her a harsh look, then softened her gaze. "Without a master, you would be unowned. But that term is misleading. Being unowned and being free are not the same thing. A woman who has no master is the property of the state. As such, they can use you to settle debts, work for little to no pay, or train you for public service. The only difference is that with a master, there is at least a chance that you will be taken care of, possibly spoiled," The woman paused to look around, "And by the looks of it, you have landed in a very lucky place indeed."

Even as she began to clear the table, Gisselle could not stop thinking about what the woman had said. She did not feel lucky. She felt trapped. But, Gisselle supposed that the woman was right in saying that a woman would be trapped either way.

The doors opened again and the women were lead by their owners into the first room. They passed through grand halls until they arrived at the chamber entrance. Gisselle had never seen the interior of the chamber. She only knew that it was used for slave training and for large gatherings, like the one they hosted now.

The doors creaked as they revealed the large room before her. Candlelight bathed the room in a warm glow, but still, the room felt cold. The floor was made of dark wood, while the walls were made of rough stone. There were dark wooden beams that hung, exposed over their heads.

Iron and leather tools lined one of the walls. There were a few couches decorated in a deep wine-colored crushed velvet. There were no windows or curtains, but there were ropes that hung from the walls.

A few hours were spent talking and testing out different tools. The guests surveyed the room and the furniture.

Benjamin gazed at his wife from across the room. He could tell that she felt unsure of her new surroundings. He waited for her to notice his gaze and beckoned to her. Without hesitation, Gisselle started towards him.

"I can see that something is the matter," Benjamin said, "Let me put you at ease."

His hand found the small of her back as he guided her towards a large wooden X.

"You must remember this," he smiled, referring to their night out.

Gisselle did recall the strange object. It made her feel excited and nervous to know that she was standing so close to it. She recalled the pleasure that she saw on the woman's face, and something inside of her shifted. She wanted desperately to feel the way that woman had.

Despite her desire, Benjamin moved her along to the next thing in the room. An expansive display wall with many different metal chains and leather objects hung before her now. Gisselle recognized some of them, handcuffs, whips, and riding crops. But there were some that she did not recognize.

"As it stands nothing on this wall is for you," Benjamin stated firmly.

He continued to escort her about the room. He explained the various types of furniture and their uses as well as the toys that were on display.

When he had finished the tour, he told Giselle to go get drinks for their guests. She obeyed, leaving the large playroom and walking down the corridors. When she arrived at the cellar, she opened the large, heavy wooden door.

Inside the room was quiet and dark. Dust particles scattered about in the air illuminated by the light from the hallway. Propping open the door and turning on a light, Gisselle wandered the large room looking for the correct bottles. Benjamin had mentioned a serving tray as well.

In the quiet room, Gisselle could hear her own footsteps clicking against the floors. There were other footsteps as well. She turned quickly, thinking that she must have been imagining things. Or perhaps Benjamin had followed after her.

When she turned, she saw a figure standing in the doorway. His frame was large but not as large as Benjamin's. The lights were quickly turned out. Gisselle's heart pounded in her chest. There was another door out of the room. If she could make it there she would be safe.

The footsteps were getting closer. Gisselle picked up a bottle and hurled it towards where she thought the figure might be. There was a loud shattering sound and she began to move quickly in the other direction.

"Get back here you little bitch,"

Her hands were in front of her as she tried to maneuver through the room. Her eyes were adjusting slowly to the dark. She turned a corner, slamming against the corner of the bar. Unable to stifle her yelp, she covered her mouth.

"There you are," The voice was much closer now.

She ducked down, hiding beneath the ledge of the bar, sandwiched between two bar stools. There was a click.

Suddenly a beam of light tore through the darkness. It lit up in her direction. She held her breath, willing herself to be invisible.

The man with the flashlight was walking closer now, scanning the room carefully. The beam found its way across bottles and shelves, finally resting on her shining high heels.

****Triggering content START****

Before Gisselle had the chance to move the man was grabbing her roughly. He hoisted her from the floor, turned her around, and pushed her over the bar. There was a sound like fabric as she struggled underneath his grasp.

The man said nothing as he placed a cloth sac over her head and lifted her off the ground with ease.

Underneath the hood she could not see any light. Assuming that they were still in the cellar, she guessed that he must be heading to the door that leads directly to the kitchen. The idiot. Benjamin or Cadence would find him there as soon as he stepped a foot outside the cellar.

Surprisingly the man did not start walking. Instead he seemed to be calling someone. Gisselle could hear the ringing but the voice on the other end was too quiet for her to understand.

"You just let me know," The man said.

***END of triggering content***

Gisselle knew the mansion was too large to be heard screaming from inside the closed cellar. She didn't want to upset the man further. She hadn't known about the flashlight so it was possible he might have a weapon as well.

He said nothing to her for another few minutes. Suddenly his phone rang and he started walking. As he stepped loudly, Gisselle could hear shouting getting closer. There was a smell of smoke. The sound of many footsteps racing across marble floors. When the sound had quieted. She heard the door open.