The Slave Of Dystonia Ch 04

His house was beautiful, of course. More exotic than anything I had seen in my life. The front foyer contained two staircases, which winded up to a balcony where a glass chandelier hung over African carpet and shone on the blood red walls. Large painted pictures hung on these walls, and the ceiling extended far upwards. The mansion itself was extensive, covering a massive amount of countryside.

As I walked inside the front doors, my eyes roamed upwards as I stared in awe at the massive sight in front of me. I tried to hide my amazement, he didn't deserve my attention, but as I followed his tall form further into the house with my hands shackled and him pulling the chain, he turned slightly and his dark eyes met mine with a playful smirk on his lips. I quickly looked down at the exotic carpet, only to be invaded by his low chuckle.

"Don't act shy now, my sweet. You can look around all you like, after all this is your new home," he said casually, and turned back towards the front. I glared at his back, irritated at how much he noticed, but remained silent. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. We walked further into the house, and it seemed as though we were walking for so long, winding through endless hallways. Finally we got to a large room that closely resembled an office, but including a large window with a view as well as a fireplace and a fire already crackling inside. The room was dark, and I could see a pair of chains glimmering from the ceiling. I hesitated for a second, and Harper tugged harshly on the chains, sending me forward abruptly with a slight yell.

"Come now, slave. I'd like to continue with our night and will not be held up by you." My blood seethed, but again I ignored him, willing for myself to keep calm and control my temper in this sensitive situation. It's what my parents would have done. It's what Garrett would do.

The doors behind me closed silently, and Lord Harper led me over to the chains hanging from the ceiling while wordlessly strapping me in. Once finished, he walked over to an oak desk as well as a comfortable looking leather chair. Taking off his cloak, he hung it on the back of his chair. I could see his large muscles pressed against the material of his nice dress shirt and swallowed. God, what had I gotten myself into. Breathe Emi, breathe. Not even glancing over at my shaking form, with hands captured high in the air by chains, he walked over to a shelf containing glass bottles with alcohols, and poured himself a drink over ice. He finally made his way back over to his desk, where he sat down and pulled out a file, which he then began to read. I let out a heavy sigh, already bored with this dumb situation. Still silent, I began to search around the room, taking in all of my surroundings. No apparent weapons to grab. Door locked. Window wasn't an option either, being however many meters up. I should have known as much; Harper is too smart to allow a new slave close to any kind of weapon or way of exit.

Of course he lived in this house. While people in distant countries groveled over food and resources Dystonia had taken away, here sat the leaders; bathing in the riches other's blood had bestowed. It made me sick. How could this horrible horrible-

"Emilina, I asked you a question." I suddenly heard Lord Harper's low timber, and my head snapped over to him sitting arrogantly in his chair, staring at me with scotch in his hand. At the sight of my confused look, his straight smile once again hit his lips. "Mmmm... seems as though my little bird flew away, although I suppose that's understandable." He stood up slowly and began to make his way towards me, his expression becoming serious. He finally approached me face on. "I'll ask you again: how did you become involved with the Nakii Safeway?" his dark brown eyes glared into me, his face inches from mine, hands clasped behind his back, which made his pectorals stick out, and reminded me of the strong muscle beneath his shirt. I narrowed my eyes. I wasn't about to just talk to my captor about my parents and the involvement they had with the system; something so personal to me. I spat, "Why would I tell you, Harper? You mean nothing to me."

Suddenly his hand shot out and grasped my chin roughly, making me gasp. A smile spread onto his lips as I did, and he leaned in until his lips were against my ear. In the most sinister way possible, he whispered, "Ahh..my sweet Emilina, you have not even begun to realize your situation." He backed away at this, and moved towards a large black chest with a metal lock. "I believe this would be a great time to introduce some rather basic rules," he said casually, as he reached into the chest and pulled out a long whip with a wooden handle.

Oh God. I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to contain my fear. His dark eyes met mine, and with that stupid smirk on this mouth he casually walked over to my current position, placing the whip on the table nearby.

"When I ask you a question, I always expect an answer relevant to the question I asked, as well as a respectful answer," he said easily. Trying to stay calm, I kept my facial features contained as he approached, my eyes refusing to meet his, afraid I would break my facade I was so desperately holding. I had to be strong. As soon as he was directly in front of me, his hand once more grabbed my chin, but lightly, ever so gently bringing my gaze to his. At his intense expression, my straight face wavered. His voice became oddly soft. "You, my pet, have failed to do either of these things. For that reason, you must be punished. I'm just sorry it had to occur so soon," he said, not looking sorry at all. His soft expression immediately changed and in an instant, eyes still on mine, both his hands came to grasp the bra I was wearing at the auction. In one swift movement he ripped it in half. I turned my head away and shut my eyes, embarrassed by my situation. His hands then went down to my bottoms, which he harshly pulled down my legs. My body tensed, overly conscious of my nudity.

With my head still turned away and my eyes nailed shut, I waited for something to happen. But all I heard was his breathing. It was slow, relaxed, as if he could have been sitting down reading a book. Mixed in was the sound of my heart beating erratically against my chest. I was sure he could hear it too. Suddenly I felt fingers as light as a feather trail up from my hips, past my waist, up the side of my breast. He trailed them back down, and his touch forced a shiver from me. He chuckled and continued. "Such a beautiful thing you are," he said in a soft tone, stepping even closer. "It really is a shame that I must already punish you." I gulped loudly, keeping my head turned from his. And with that his fingers left my body and he walked behind me, picking up the whip on the way.

"I'm going to whip you 5 times, and you will count for me. Is that clear?" he said in a loud tone. The reality of the situation had finally set in, and in a desperate panic I began pulling on my chains. At this he struck me hard, his whip coming down on my back with a crack. I gasped in pain and surprise, body lurching forward. "Is that clear?!" he asked again in a louder voice.

"Yes!!" I said hurriedly. I tried to hide my panic but my body was betraying me. I continued to resist the chains holding me. I had never imagined a whip would hurt so badly, but I tried to stay strong and not scream or god forbid cry. Again the whip came down on my back this time in surprise I let out a yelp, my body lurching forward again.

"We've been over this, dear, when I ask a question I expect an answer. Ignoring me will only serve as further punishment. Also, I didn't hear a number," he said teasingly, and once more the whip cracked on my back. This lash was stronger than the others, going all the way from my top right shoulder to my lower left cheek, and I let out a scream. Damn him, damn him!

"One!" I let out painfully. He then paused a moment. The only thing that could be heard was my heavy breathing. But he didn't make a sound. I wanted to look back to see his expression, but I remained still, the pain too intense. Satisfied, he hit me again and I let out another scream of pain. "Two!" He was probably getting off on this, seeing a woman so weak by his hands. At the thought of this, I felt my eyes start to well up, tears of anger threatening to spill. I wanted to be strong, I wanted to kick him and hurt him for making me feel so... powerless.

I heard the whip come down before I felt it. At the contact I screamed again. "Three!" This time the lash caused my tears to finally fall, streaming weakly down my face.

"Another basic rule that you must immediately know and understand is tied into respecting me as your lord and master. Whenever you speak or answer to me, you must always end with 'master'. Anything less will not be accepted. Am I clear, slave?" I cringed. I had hoped I could get away with "my lord" or "sir" but Master? I felt sick. When I didn't immediately answer, he landed another lash upon my back, this one much harder than the others. I let out a loud scream and began to sob. "How is it so difficult to understand a simple rule?" he said angrily. "I don't like to repeat myself. When I ask you something I expect an answer." Sobbing, I quickly responded.

"Four, yes master! I'm sorry master," I cried, my body sagging forward as I lost the ability to stand, all the weight resting on my shackled wrists. I wish he would stop, but my line was begging. I would not beg to this monster.

My vision began to go blurry and my body was giving up. The tears streaked down my face, and I could barely even move. He hit me one last time, harder than the others. I thought I screamed, but barely anything came out. Breathing heavily, I managed to blurt out "five".

I was in so much pain I wanted to leave. Oh god it was so painful why couldn't he just leave me be. His hands were on my shackles, and I felt the loss of contact on my wrists and with that began falling. Lord Harper, or what I could only presume to be him, caught me before my body hit the floor and cradled me into his arms. From there he began walking. I was still crying but quietly and the pain, especially the humiliation, was more than I could bear.

"Shhh... it's alright, pet. You did good, that's a good girl," he cooed softly. We finally entered a dark room, and I couldn't see but felt when he gently laid me on a bed. The sheets hurt against my back, but my muscles craved the relief of lying down. I let out a soft moan as my head hit the pillows, and he chuckled softly as he sat down next to me on the bed. His hands rubbed my hip, almost in a comforting way. I kept my eyes closed, embarrassed and in pain. I felt him lean down until his mouth was on my ear. "You are mine now. I own you in every way and therefore will, in the near future, know everything there is to know about you. Your past, your present, your emotions, your pain, your pleasure, and eventually, your love. You cannot hide anything from me anymore, pet, and I advise you not to try."

And with that he gently kissed the top of my nose, got up, and promptly left. As soon as I was alone in the darkness, I allowed my exhaustion to pull me into slumber.

***

I awoke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window. As I was pulled out of consciousness, the pain on my back hit me sharply. I flinched against the sheets, shooting up to a sitting position to avoid any contact on my back. All of my muscles ached and I felt as though the 5 or so strokes on my back were on fire. Rubbing my eyes, I decided to look around the room.

It was rather small, although I guess that is to be expected. It contained a bed as well as a dresser and a small window, but that was about it. I could see a dark doorway across from the bed, which I could only presume to be a bathroom. The room was all white, almost completely absent of color, like an institution. I shuddered at the thought, but got up to use the bathroom.

My body felt weak and I wondered as I got up from the toilet and moved towards the mirror whether I looked as bad as I felt. As I approached the mirror, I began to examine.

Well for starters I was naked, but that wasn't surprising considering what had happened last night. My eyes were a little puffy from crying, but I looked fine otherwise. At the sight of my recent neck tattoo, my eyes narrowed. Turning around, I decided to look at my back. At the sight, I gasped loudly, but not because it looked bad. There were large welts where the whip had made it's mark along with some bruising, but that was all.

What the fuck? He had hit me so hard and I was in so much pain I was almost certain he had broken my skin. But no. These didn't look great now but they would never scar or leave any kind of mark. It was as if the pain was invalid now. Like I had never really been whipped by that psychopath.

Disoriented, I thought back on the details of last night. He had taken me to his office, chained me up, and asked me one question. When I made a smart-ass remark, he had punished me by whipping me 5 times, without breaking any skin. And that was all.

What the fuck?? He had punished me in the way all slaves were normally punished, and throughout the whole thing I had been screaming and sobbing, as if my life was at an end. I was sure he had really injured me. I was sure there would be scars. I suddenly screamed in frustration, and punched the mirror as hard as I could. It cracked and shattered, cutting my knuckles with it. I bowed my head down and clenched my fist, watching as blood trickled down my right hand.

How the fuck did this happen? How did I let this happen? I allowed him to rule my emotions with fear, and that fear of him had pushed me over the edge. I let that motherfucker into my head. How could I do this? My thoughts shifted to Garrett, and I felt my heart ache. Garrett would have never allowed Harper into his head so easily. He would have taken that punishment with his head held high, and would have fought through and through. God I'm such an idiot.

With a renewed fire in my gut, I quickly grabbed a large shard of glass that had broken off in my anger. I clenched it hard in my hand until I could feel the warmth of blood. I used this pain to fuel my anger. I would not give up so easily. I would not be bullied by that sick man into complacency. I would fight, no matter what the costs.

With my shard of glass, I stormed out of the bathroom, determined to find some sort of exit. I first went to the main door. Locked. That didn't surprise me, but I thought I might as well check anyways. My second thought was the window. Although small, I figured I may be able to get out. The problem was finding a way down. Looking out, I saw that we were about 3 stories up. Shit. Still, I wouldn't give up on my best option just because of a little height. Placing my glass on the window seal, I began to try and pry the window open.

"What are you doing?" said a small voice behind me. I quickly spun around to face the doorway, glass grasped tightly in my bloody hand. There was a small girl at the doorway, with mid length curly hair, and gorgeous green eyes. She was wearing a simple dress, which was whitish grey with spaghetti straps, but looked stunning. I noticed she too had a neck tattoo, although her ink was black and with a different design. She stared at me, no emotions on her perfect face.

"Nothing," I snapped, looking at her up and down, my body tensed. At my response, she sighed and began slowly but casually walking over to me. "There is no escape in here, I already tried long ago. Now please, you should put the glass down. You're going to hurt yourself," she said calmly.

"I don't care," I replied through gritted teeth. I clenched the glass harder into my hand, watching as drops of bright red hit the white carpet, finally adding a splash of color to this room. I smirked at the thought.

"Yes, but he will. And I'm sure you don't want to upset him again." At her mention of Harper, I clenched my teeth tighter, feeling my lower lip tremble slightly. God dammit Emi pull yourself together. But still I felt fear. Slowly, she began walking towards me again. "Please just give me the glass." Standing in front of me, she put her hand out. She was much shorter and smaller than me, not at all intimidating, but in those soft hazel eyes I saw true compassion and care. Carefully, I placed the glass in her hand, making sure not to cut her. Sighing, she took the glass and lead me to the bathroom. Once inside, she first rinsed the blood off the piece of glass I had, then wrapped it carefully in a handkerchief and placed it into one of the pockets on her dress. She then opened one of the lower cabinets and pulled out what looked to be a first aid kit. Opening it up, she nodded at me to come closer. I obeyed. We stood in silence for a while, and I watched her methodically stitch up my hand.

"Who are you?" I blurted randomly, curious about the only other person I had seen since the auction besides Harper.

"My name is Lacey," she replied, though continued her attentions on her work. "I'm am a slave for my Master, Lord Harper." She looked up to me at this point. "And what is your name?"

I hesitated for a second, so used to being closed off from other people. Also the sound of her calling Lord Harper Master made me cringe. I cleared my throat to reply. "Uh-mmm... just call me Emi," I said awkwardly. At my tone, Lacey smiled reassuringly.

"That's a cool name. Emi," she then continued to stitch up. I wanted to ask her more questions, but I wasn't sure where to start. I shuffled on my feet, trying to think of something to say.

"I know you've probably got a lot on your mind. You can ask me whatever, I don't bite," she said with a small smile. Lacey seemed genuine, and I couldn't help but hope that I may be able to have a friend here. And everyone knows that two is better than one... well for creating plans to escape and getting the hell out of here. Lacey would be a good alliance, as she probably knows a lot about the mansion.

"What is this room?" I asked, looking around at the too white furniture.

"It's where Master keeps his new slaves while they become acclimated," she responded, her eyes still focused on her work. I looked around the eerily white room and gulped. At the sound her eyes met mine. "I know, all the white color is unnerving. It's a mind trick of my Masters... although I probably shouldn't go into details," she finished quickly, going back to her work.

Her words made me pause. Mind trick? "Wait what? Mind trick?" I asked, pushing further. But she didn't reply, and once she finished her stitching, she cleaned the tools and began putting stuff away. I stared, waiting. "Lacey?" Placing the first aid kit where it belonged, she turned to face me.

"You need to get ready for the day. My lord has instructed that I assist you. I'll start your bath now." With that she promptly walked over to the tub, began running warm water, and left the bathroom. My back ached, and the thought of taking a hot bath actually excited me, so I quickly got in. The hot water scorched my back, but I allowed the pain to ground me, remind me of my situation, lest I forget while enjoying a simple bath. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, keeping my recently stitched hand out of the water. At the sound of the bathroom door opening, my eyes shot open.

"What are you doing in here?" I snapped, sounding harsher then I meant to. At the tone of my voice, Lacey flinched.

"Like I said, Master has asked me to assist you."

"I am perfectly capable of washing myself, thank you very much," I said, but as her eyes shot to my destroyed hand, I let out a sigh, realizing I would probably need her help. "Fine, yes... come in..."