Chapter 7

It will be a while until I see the Cullens again. A while until I leave the house again. I can tell as soon as we get into the car that my punishment will be cruel and painful, I had expected this but what I hadn't anticipated was the raw and frightening emotion he displayed.

* TRIGGER WARNING *

When we arrived back to the imprisonment of the house, I tensed up knowing what was to come. He grabbed my arms in his hands and pushed me against the wall, my skin crawled and stung at his force. I've been treated this way before but very rarely with this much raw anger. Most of my masters have been very very controlled- they were inhuman so using a fraction of their true strength would kill me. The punishment was never easy but I knew by their composure that my mistakes were never fatal ones. I've seen this rage before. I've seen it rip and burn through others like in less time than it took to make the mistake. I've never seen it directed at me. I suddenly find myself afraid of this human man. If I'm honest it slipped my mind that he can kill me, he can hurt me. Just because he bleeds like me -doesn't make him less of a monster. His hands bruise my skin with a deeply pigmented color. I have learned to stay completely still despite the pain and instinct to run or fight back. I have spent years honing the ability to react with intent- never lose control. His hands start to move over me, one arm still firmly pressed to the wall. It reminds me briefly of a butterfly with one pinned wing. I could throw the other arm around, try to get away, but it would be useless right now. I would just get caught, just get a worse fate. I stay still. I feel his free hand cup my neck, then my breast. I look away. I feel sick, afraid, helpless. Its worse knowing I could fight him off. I could attack him now and run out the door. I could but if I did I wouldn't make it out of Forks, I might not eve make it out of the yard. I have no place to go yet, nowhere to run too. Until I know these streets, all the places to hide, until I know more I am stuck here. I have to endure this. I don't have a real choice. I remind myself of this over and over because a very small part of me in the back of my mind is blaming myself for what is to come. A part of me, knowing I could move to fight, feels trapped in the idea that I don't. Logically I can't. I have nowhere to go. I have nothing. I have to endure this.

I feel tears sting my eyes but I do not blink, I do not look up, I do not meet his anger. His hand cups my breast and pushes upwards painfully. Then his hand releases me and grips my shirt and shakes me, slamming my head into the wall repeatedly with a steady thud. "I gave you all of this! These clothes! This beautiful life! Money! Fans! I gave it to you! I have been very kind to someone like you and you should be grateful I don't want to leave any marks! Look at me, damn it!" He stops shaking me and I can feel the pain in my head throb, blood sticking my hair together. His grip tightens and his eyes are wild. "You deserve pain, deserve punishment. You can't just offer anything you'd like, you can't just act like I didn't pay thousands of dollars for you! Like I don't fucking own you! Maybe I've been to lenient with you. I know we have an arrangement and I've given you a taste of freedom and given you clothes and money and some sense of importance but do not ever forget that I bought you. You are an item. My item. My possession. I may not bruise you but you are still mine and I have other ways to prove that to you. You are weak." He touches my breast again. "you can not stop me." He rips my clothes, exposing my skin to him. "You are nothing but you will learn to love being nothing. nothing but a face that I created. A face I give nice clothes and fancy reliable meals. You have everything someone of your background could ever desire so let me remind you of your place." He slides his hand between my legs, painfully invading my body. I cry out and bite my lip to silence myself. A searing pain rushes through me over and over. I close my eyes but the pain continues and the moment of torment is eternal.

"haha look at that slut, you're wet...I guess this isn't much of a punishment for you is it, whore?!" He puts his hand to my throat and continues his assault on my body. I am not enjoying this. I hate this. I hate him. My body is responding in order to lessen the pain but it doesn't help much when something larger seems to break my consciousness as it tears through me. The last thing I recall is losing control of my tears and watching them fall to the floor.

* TRIGGER WARNING END*

I wake up on the floor. I feel hurt and sore. I feel my body radiating pain and feel dirty in my skin. I don't know if I feel human anymore. I don't know if I feel strong enough to get up. I have never been more afraid of this man. I've never been more afraid of any master I have ever had. I was an entertainer class slave, not one for sex, not one who was raped. This is my first time ever. I've been forced to do other things, to touch men and act erotically but never have I been hurt this way. It was never my role. I was never bad, I never did anything that resulted in anything more than a few hits with the whip. I thought that was torment- and it was- but this was different. This hurt differently. For the first time...I feel like this man is inescapable. I never want to feel this again. I never want this to happen again. Suddenly, as I lay on the floor, shaking and listening to the raggedness of my own shaky breath, I can feel all aspirations, all hope of freedom fade into nothing but pain.