บท 5: Chapter 5
Macey
Master's hand caresses my hair as he pats my head for the fifth time in a row. My legs are numb and the tingles vibrating along my shins carrying all throughout my knees and thighs, have transformed into painful needle pricks.
"Master, may I have a word?" Malcom asks, walking into the room. His large body covers majority of the door frame, but I can still see remnants of Ranger behind him.
Ranger was the first face I saw after I left my old life. He is also the most sadistic of the guards. All except for Malcom. He has never raped any of us, not even touched us inappropriately. The girls and I have our suspicions, ranging from homosexuality, to sexual difficulties. He has always been the one that never gets off on the abuse and torture, in fact he has always shied away from it. Malcom usually spares us from Ranger, always stepping in when Master gives him free reign on our punishments, but there are times he is too late. The long scar on my back is proof of those times.
"Come Malcom. Speak, I trust my pets." Master answers petting my head once more.
My mind races, wondering why Master feels suddenly forthcoming. Between yesterday and giving me orders to train a new salve, and just now with permission to listen in on his business. Usually master would send us away, a fact that has Malcom looking confused as well.
I attempt to adjust my legs further but refrain from making any such motion. After a while your legs will grow accustomed to the feeling of pain and numbness coinciding like twining rope. The first time I watched someone get beaten so severely that they tethered on the edge of death was the day I found out how disrespectful it is to stand while master has demanded you kneel.
"Master, we may have a slight problem with the plane taking off on time." I snap out of my past and focus on Malcom's words. Master reaches out, tugging my hair back slightly. I don't dare move, but Cassie, located on the other side of me, groans.
Cassie is one of the youngest slaves here. Her deep blonde hair and bright doe blue eyes make her one of the favorites of the guards to share. She has an innocence about herself that makes her the perfect target for them.
"What kind of problem Malcom." Malcom tenses, then leans in further to whisper into Master Phillipe's ear.
I have been a loyal slave to my master for over three years. He has my body, my soul and my future, but something pushes my spine, something pushes me to listen closer to their conversation. I don't know what causes me to do this, not sure why I would even think it would be a good idea, but the moment I lean in to closely, Ranger grabs my throat, shoving me backwards onto my back.
"What the hell are you doing slave?" He shouts, but my eyes don't leave my masters.
His eyes glare as they go from Ranger to myself. I clutch at my throat, giving myself time to think of a reaction but one glance at Cassie and I know I don't have any. There is never an excuse to disrespect master.
"Ranger, take her down to the basement."
My heart stops beating as Ranger smirks then begins walking towards me, but a hand shoves at his chest, preventing him going further. Malcom stands there, glaring at Ranger, anger flowing off him in waves.
"I will do it master. She was able to get past me, it's my fault. I would like to seek out her punishment today."
Master stands, starring at Malcom's hand still on Ranger's chest. Ranger shoves his arm down, ready to speak his mind but master stops him lifting his palm up to stop any movement. It's successful as Ranger adjusts his stance from ready to battle, to the perfectly stoic soldier.
"Malcom, you may bring her down to the basement, I want her gone for three days. You know what to do."
Malcom nods his head almost reluctantly then walks over, grabbing me by my shirt, lifting me effortlessly and practically dragging me past everyone including my master's disappointed eyes. I hear hm grumble something like stupid girl as we walk down each step, leading straight to the basement doors.
"What the hell were you thinking Macey?" He shouts in a whisper. His anger is evident, and veins are spouting all over his face. I stare at the deep one in his neck as he leads me straight for the old smelly cot that I have grown accustomed to since coming here four years ago. "Sit there, do not move."
I do as told, sitting down on the strained smelly cold cot. Malcom moves things around from behind me, crashing and stomping, curing as he does so. I hear him grumble words that make no sense to me, words that seem foreign like 'feds' and 'cell phone'.
Finally after a few moments he steps out in front of me. His shirt has been removed, putting his massive chest on full display. The brand that all the guards share displayed on his left peck of the master's insignia, but as I look closer, I notice it seems to be covering up some kind of tattoo.My eyes hesitantly flick to his face, watching as his breathing becomes heavier and heavier.
"What were you thinking?"
I don't speak, I know I cannot possibly get out of my punishment. I don't know why I leaned in. Perhaps because master has never once allowed any of the pets to listen to his business and I wanted to know more? Perhaps just because I saw an opportunity and took it? My self-loathing anger sits in me like a bottomless pit. I have been beaten, raped, abused and nearly killed. I have suffered through anguish, so that I could be conditioned to obey every order my master gives, but deep down, somewhere in my subconscious, that stubborn girl still lives, and now I must suffer because of it.
Malcom moves to the side of me, I look over and watch as he places what looks like a cell phone into one of the slots of wood in the wall sideways. He marches over to the other side of me and turns on the water. My heart skips a beat, knowing what I will have to endure has me on edge. My fight or flight instincts nearly kick in, but I push it all down. The fear, the hatred, the anger that I must do this because I have the will to live. I push it all down, because I will not only need my strength, I will need my endurance.
Malcom returns in front of me, but my gaze remains on his booted clad feet. My body trembles with the fear of knowing what's coming but I remain the statue Malcom needs from me. I don't understand why he asked master to do the punishment himself. Malcom normally hates the basement. It's the only place he will hardly take a step in.
"I'm sorry Macey." Before I can draw in a startled breath, Malcom's hands grab hold of my throat, slamming me down onto the cot and using the restraints attached to lock in my hands and ankles.
I don't struggle, not at first. I know rape is not on the agenda today, but the small relief I feel for that, quickly diminishes and folds onto another emotion far more dangerous.
Fear.
A blindfold goes over my eyes. Folded tightly behind my head. I whimper when I feel Malcom move the small cot under me, pushing it down enough for my head to flow over the edge. My trembling becomes more powerful as Malcom moves more and more behind me. A large white and heavy towel drapes over my face and in that moment I welcome the feel of my old friend.
Panic.
"P-please" I cry out but it's no use. Water pours over my face, and pain ignites all around my body. I thrash about but with my limbs being tied down I have no room to move. My lungs cry out for air as I struggle to breath but only after what feels like darkness creeping around the edges, do I finally get reprieve.
I cough and cry out once I get enough air in my lungs. The blind fold stays on my face so I cannot see Malcom's expression, but I can still hear his mumbling.
"P-please. Please n-no more." I beg, hating the sound of my pathetic voice. It's my fault I'm in this circumstance. It's my fault I chose not to be loyal to my master.
"I'm sorry Macey, but this will all be over soon." Malcom states settling the towel back over my face. "Take a deep breath, we have hours yet."
I am my master's pet
I am my master's pet
I am Macey.
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