The warm yellow sun is tenderly embracing my tan golden beige skin. Oh, how much I have missed being kissed by its loving rays. In the distance, the soft calming sound of trees swaying with the wind engulfed in their own private minuet falls on my ears. I am in a beautiful flower field brimming with all the colors of the rainbow.
It is so full of life.
The birds are bellowing their joyous hymns, followed by the deer prancing happily to a synchronous ballet, and the rabbits performing a lively jig while hopping from place to place.
It is warm and inviting, peaceful and serene.
The gentle, playful breeze blows through my dark umber hair, emphasizing its lovely ferruginous undertones as the honey-colored light shines through my soft springy, voluminous locks, bringing them into center stage with their own pas de deux. The summer zephyr also makes the flowers dance in syncopated rhythm to the world's greatest waltz.
The placid, crystalline blue lake is inviting me to jump into its cool water.
This is just heaven on earth.
I see a few wooden cottages in the distance. A couple of people are tending to their well-kept gardens outside their humble abodes in this bucolic landscape.
I do not know how long it has been since I have felt so at peace with the world.
Out of nowhere, the sky turns a monstrous, evil dark, and I can see forked lightning illuminating the ominous clouds. A plume of destructive fire descends upon the earth. I put my hands over my head and crouch down to protect myself. The incessant inferno scorches everything around me.
When I look up, there is no life left. The corpses of the once happy animals are smoldering in agony beside me, the sparkling lake has dried up completely, and the dutiful people I had seen working in their gardens are either burnt on the ground or have been set on fire. Their harrowing screams pierce my ear drums as they fruitlessly run a couple of feet before collapsing to their tragic deaths.
I am here, alone, completely alone on a desolate gray earth.
I grab a handful of the charred ashes at my feet and see how they scatter ephemerally in the breeze that plays its own mournful elegy to the fallen. I plunge to my knees in pure and utter hopelessness, screaming my heart out to the unheeding winds.
A faint, distant voice is calling out to me. A hand is nudging me awake.
My eyes flit open. My face is damp, and my hands are gripping tightly at some sort of fabric. My knuckles are white. I am trembling, diaphoretic, and tachycardic.
Whatever I am sleeping on moves, and I shoot up, sending painful electric shocks up to my skull. It is Mistress. I was sleeping on top of her. My tears have unfortunately stained her white blouse. I quickly move away from her, mumbling an apology, but she grabs my hand and pulls me closer to her.
"It's okay, little one. You're fine. It's not your fault. Come here." She pulled me harder towards her until I was within her reach. Her left hand cups the posterior of my head and forces it back to rest on her chest.
I could see just how damp with sweat and tears I had made her blouse, yet she was not mad at me. With my pulling, a couple of the buttons had come undone. Her cleavage and abs were showing. Those abs.
She lets out a heavy sigh. "Another nightmare?" I nod, not looking up at her. "You were whimpering and crying, so I decided to wake you up before things got worse." I replied a quiet “Thank You”. "If your nightmares persist, I'm going to have to give you something so that you can sleep throughout the night." I did not answer this time.
A couple of minutes passed by, and I could not seem to fall back asleep. I do not know if it was because I was fearing having more nightmares, because I was aware this time that my face was on Mistress's chest, or because of the fact that her abdomen was fully exposed, and I could see just how tight and inviting her sculpted muscles looked. I wanted to touch them, run my hands over them, grab them, squeeze them, kiss them, but I shouldn't. I should not be thinking those things, especially not about her.
She gave me my first sexual experience, and not by my own free will. That experience, however good or bad, certainly awakened something in me that I did not know lay dormant. I found myself craving more. I wanted to explore what other pleasures I could derive from sex. I wanted to try more. I wanted to be intimate with someone of my choosing, someone who would love me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what my body can provide to satiate their own selfish needs. I wanted to give someone immense amounts of pleasure and in turn be pleased myself. I wanted to love someone fully, be my most vulnerable with them. Give my all to them.
I shifted my weight, my bladder was full, and it felt uncomfortable, but I do not know if Mistress was going to let me get off the bed.
"What's wrong?" She inquired.
"I need to pee, and I can't sleep." I replied, wiping away the salt crystals that had formed at the corners of my eyes from the dry remnants of the tears that had spilled.
"Fine, go. Are you going to be okay walking to the bathroom by yourself?" She was grabbing onto my right forearm, stopping my momentum.
"Yes, I think so." I looked at the IV pole, knowing that I would most probably use it as support in any case.
"Ok, I'll be on the lookout. If you can't sleep, then we'll start your day. Stay in the bathroom after you're done, I'm going to get you some clothes so that you can shower." She finally let go of my arm and assented with her head so that I could resume my original mission.
I nodded, wondering what she had planned for me today. I hope it is nothing bad.
I got up from the bed and swung my legs over the side, testing my balance once my feet reached the floor. I was not shaky like yesterday, so I shuffled over to the bathroom without a problem. I relieved myself and washed my hands, waiting for Mistress like she had instructed.
A few minutes later, she came back with a towel and a bundle of clothes, which she set on the sink. I could see that she had also brought bandages and topical antibiotic. Great, that means I am getting debrided. More pain.
She unhooked my IV line and ordered me to strip. I hesitated for a second before my hands slowly made their way up to the knot at the base of my neck. After wincing a few times at my own painful movements and untying both of the knots, I unenthusiastically took off the gown. She grabbed it and threw it away. "You won't be needing this anymore."
My hands tried to cover my private areas as best as they could, but Mistress ordered me to keep my arms at my sides. Her stern command this early in the morning was not something I wanted to defy, so I begrudgingly dropped my arms.
Her bright azure irises wandered studiously over my body, and I felt a sudden heated blush painting my cheeks.
"Why do you keep getting embarrassed around me?" She asked while snapping on blue nitrile gloves.
"Sorry." I looked at the ground.
"That wasn't an answer." She sounded somewhat vexed.
"I don't know, I can't control it." It's not like I'm going to tell her the real reason, she might just hit me for it.
"Well, you're going to have to stop blushing around me, or else I won't have a choice but to make you stop." Her steely reply made me a bit anxious, thinking to what methods she might employ to achieve her goal.
"Yes, Mistress." I tried to hide my concerned inflection while looking back at her.
"Now, give me your left arm." Her right hand was opened out to me.
I extended my arm out to her. She removed the soiled bandages off my wrists and my forearm. There were huge water filled blisters covering the burn. She took a gauze and harshly pressed it on the bullae. I screamed in pain, not expecting such an abrasive action from her. I pulled my arm back, but she grabbed my wrist and pulled it towards her, her fingers pressed down on the raw skin of my wrists and I whimpered. The blisters had burst, and transparent yellow liquid was dripping down my arm.
"Have I done something wrong? Why are you being so rough?" I was wincing.
"No, you haven't done anything wrong, and I'm not being rough." Are you kidding? "It just feels like it to you because your nerve endings are exposed. They are more sensitized to any type of stimulation, even if it's small. Something as simple as a breeze can produce excruciating pain now. Also, the swelling surrounding the burn from your body's inflammatory response exacerbates the pain. That's why I had been giving you painkillers and anti-inflammatory medications." If she knows all of this, why does she not take it slower?
"Still, you can be gentler." I huffed.
"Look," she dug her nails into my wrists and pulled my arm roughly towards her so that her face hovered dangerously close to mine, "I'll be as rough or as gentle as I want. It's your fault you're in this situation. You had to learn." My eyes watered at the sudden, poignant pressure.
"I get that. You've made your point, quite clearly, I might add. I've been trying to do my best to follow your orders, but goddamn, do you have to be so heartless?" It came out as abrupt and impetuous.
That earned me a hard slap.
I held my stinging red cheek.
Annoyance was starting to consume her. "First of all, stop sassing me. Secondly, what was rule number three?"
Silence.
Like I would ever really remember all her ridiculous rules.
"No back talking or cursing. Do not cuss at me. I have let a couple of incidents slide because you were talking in the heat of the moment, but no more. I won't tolerate you breaking my rules any further. Yes, you are learning, but you still have a long way to go. I have seen you a lot more submissive after the branding, but that attitude of yours still surfaces every once in a while."
"I'm sorry. It's just--"
"It's just nothing. When I tell you to do something, you do it! I don't care if you want to or not, if it hurts, or you're scared, you just do it." She snapped.
"But--"
"No buts. It is going to take you some time to learn how to go against your instincts, your nature, so I will keep teaching you and punishing you until you do." She cut me off before I could even say anything.
"How is that fair? All you want is an obedient little doll that follows your every command so that you can use and abuse as you please and when you no longer want to, you can just throw aside?" I protested shrewdly.
Another slap. This time, her knuckles found my jawbone. I had to plant a hand on the ground to prevent myself from falling face first. I spit out blood-covered saliva on the floor.
She bent over me and roughly grasped under my mandible, pressing firmly into it. "Don't talk back! Fair or not, you no longer hold the power to make decisions for yourself. Whatever I wish to do to you will be done, end of story. Do not question my authority again." She forcefully released my face off to the side.
How in the hell is this thinking logical? Here I am trying not to fight her, but she just takes things to extremes. All of this stemming from asking her to be gentle? Is that too much to ask?
I did not want to incur her wrath anymore, so I decided it was best just to cut my losses and stay quiet.
She extended my arm and pressed the gauze to the now flaccid bullae. I squeezed my bicep as hard as I could to try to alleviate the coming pain. At first, she looked at me through narrow eyes, knitting her brows in an irritated expression, indicating why I had not understood what we just talked about. I countered with a nervous expression but showed her that I did not mean to contradict her, I was staying in place and was ready for whatever she was about to do.
She was still somewhat suspicious but proceeded to scrape away at the burn. I grimaced at the excruciating pain that her actions brought forth. Involuntary tears clouded my vision; however, I could see as she abraded the thin loose skin that had been covering the wound to reveal the shiny pink dermis underneath.
It felt like she was taking forever to scrape away the epidermis. A couple of tears escaped, but I managed to hold my ground. The burn was throbbing. Hard. I had clenched my fist and tightened my arm muscles to counteract the pain, but it wasn't enough.
"Why did you take the painkillers away?" Pain was evident in my voice as I asked her through clenched eyes.
"I only put it for the first two days so that the initial pain wouldn't be so overwhelming, however, you need to feel the constant pain as a reminder of why this had to happen." She replied callously. What about for the chip she inserted into the back of my neck? I did not have anything to do with that!
I swear, it is one step forward and two steps back with her. Whenever I think things are finally getting better, given the situation, she always comes back with something worse.
I hate her.
I hate the way she treats me. I hate what she has done to me. I hate all that she stands for. I hate her very existence. I hate that despite all of that, I am physically attracted to her, only to her body, that is. I hate the way she makes me feel. I hate her labile mood. I hate that I have to play along with her. I hate that I have to submit to her. I hate that she controls my day-to-day life. I hate that I am nothing but a piece of meat right now. I hate how she has broken me.
I.
Hate.
Her.
When she finally finished debriding my arm, she told me to turn around and put my hands against the wall, I did. She ripped away the dressings covering my back, and I could not help but to scream and fall to my knees in agonizing pain. I cowered away from her.
"Little one, get up and put your hands against the wall." She reiterated calmly and sternly.
I stood up on shaky legs and slowly placed my hands to the cold, unforgiving wall. As she placed the gauze to the burn and started scraping, I flinched away from her once more. I turned around and looked at her with fear-laden eyes.
"Keira, I'm not going to ask again. Put. Your hands. Against. The wall." Even though her threat was austere, the pain was screeching at me to not let her touch me again.
"C-Can you not do my back today, please?" I gulped hard, trying to appeal to any merciful sliver left in her.
"That's it." She exited the bathroom without saying anything else. A feeling of dread ran through me. What was she going to do now? I tried to follow her orders, I did, but the pain is just too much to bear right now.
I stayed in the bathroom, rooted to the same spot. My hands were shaking in worried anticipation. My body responded with an attack of collywobbles.
I heard the door to the room open and three pairs of footsteps approaching. My eyes darted across the bathroom, looking for anything to hide behind. The door slammed open and in walked Mia and Kristia followed by Mistress. Why Kristia? What is she doing here?
Both Mia and Kristia stomped towards me, and I walked backwards, inadvertently backing myself into a corner. I crouched down with my hands in a defensive position in front of me, but that just gave them easier access to grab onto them. They each grasped a limb and yanked me forward onto my stomach. I fell with a heavy thud as my chest hit the ground. Kristia took my arm from Mia's, while Mia pinned my legs down. I was thrashing under them, but I could not get any leverage to stand before Mistress sat on the back of my thighs, further pinning me in place. I was screaming and begging for them to stop, trying to convince them that I was going to stay still, that I was going to be good, that I was going to behave, but the more I screamed, the more Kristia's nails dug into my excoriated wrists. The raw skin under her nails was yelling for a relief that would never be heard. I could see the blood quickly accumulating under her grip, but she did not let up as tears welled in the corners of my eyes.
"Keira, I gave you another choice, and yet you managed to fail once again. I made it clear that I was going to say things only once. You went against my authority again, and for that you will endure your punishment. The more you fight, the more painful it's going to get." There was no emotion in her speech.
Mistress paused as she gathered her next words carefully. She ran her hands down my sides, just shy of my wounds. I was trembling in dreaded anticipation.
"Now, normally I would've shocked you, but the pain from debriding you will be so great that I know you still would have put up a fight no matter how exhausted the electricity would have left you. I called them in because I want you to feel every single ounce of pain that's going to come from this. The more pain you feel, the faster you'll learn to behave appropriately." A malevolent undertone was definitely present this time.
She started mercilessly scraping at my back. At first, I gritted my teeth as hard as I could, trying to endure it. My breath picked up, and I was fighting back the accumulating tears. My toes were curled, and my fingers dug themselves into my palms. I am sure my knuckles were stark white, and half-moons were encrusted in my hands.
As she kept tearing away at the epidermis, I could not help but whimper until they became bountiful screams of agony. Even through tightly clenched eyes, the tears found their way out, pooling on the floor, mixing with the saliva that shot out from my unsuccessfully suppressed wails.
My entire body was shaking uncontrollably. I was starting to feel dizzy and nauseated. I felt weak, on the verge of fainting. My skin was starting to redden, but paradoxically, I was not sweating. My chest was hurting.
The last thing I remember was throwing up before the world turned dark.