AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Miss Barnski greeted Ivy with a smile. In one hand she held a thin laptop bag, in her other two steaming takeaway cups from the coffee shop just down the road. She’d never met the woman in person. Their conversations had been over the phone or email.
At the time, Ivy had been too intimidated and ashamed by what had been printed to face anyone. Yet she’d felt the need to speak to her, to thank her for what she’d done and the help she’d given them. Then there were the conversations about the wedding. Ivy had wanted to ensure she had everything she needed to make writing the piece as easy as possible.
Her mind had crafted an image so different to the woman before her. Images of a TV anchor-woman, dressed in a power suit had filled her mind, so opening the door to the woman with a messy bun and casual clothes instantly put her more at ease. “Miss Barnski, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, please, come in.” Ivy stepped back, allowing her entry.
“Monica, please. It’s so good to finally meet you in person” Ivy caught the soft scent of her sweet perfume as she stepped inside and slid her shoes off at the door.
Ivy looked at the woman sitting opposite her. Her mind had suddenly turned blank. There was nothing.
No thoughts.
No words.
Nothing.
Not even a cobweb.
“So, he made you call him Owner,” she prompted after the silence stretched to uncomfortable levels. After all, there was only so long she could pretend to drink her coffee until it felt awkward. “But what was his name? Did you know him?”
Ivy tried to take a drink herself, to wet her dry mouth, but the smell turned her stomach. It was the same brand he used to drink. The same way he had tasted. Several coffee shops nearby carried that brand, but the scent alone felt like an assault on her senses. Ivy opened her mouth as if to answer, but no words would come.
Owner. He was Owner, but his name, that was harder to voice. The smell of coffee flooded her senses, his name, it was…
…Her head snapped back painfully, a hard grip tugging her hair, burning her scalp as Owner forced her to look at him. Her body shivered, trembling in fear and the aftershocks of the treacherous way her body had just responded to him. The filthy treacherous way that broke her spirit a little more each time.
She grabbed his wrist, trying to ease the burning pressure, the force of the grip, but she should have known by now it only made him pull harder. A hiss of pain tore from her lips, her hand recoiling as he brought the slim wooden paddle down across her fingers.
This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some horrific nightmare. She wasn’t sure how long ago she’d been snatched from the hotel, how many times her body had betrayed her like it had just moments ago. But it was too long, too many. Humiliation and shame flooded her as disgust at herself reigned.
Pain was the only measurement of time. Beatings, abuse, rape, and the sickening knife in her gut each time she came, each time she called him Owner, because it hurt less to comply, hurt less to surrender.
“What did you forget, pet?”
“I’m sorry, Owner,” she whimpered, dropping her gaze as much as his burning grasp on her would allow. “I didn’t wait for permission.” She knew he did it on purpose, deliberately ensured she could no longer push down the sickening burn. He loved to see her fail, loved to know he had a reason to hurt her. Not that he needed an excuse. He relished in her suffering, in watching her will weaken, watching the fight fade.
“I thought I’d taught you better, pet, given you a lesson in obedience you wouldn’t soon forget. And yet you fail me again.”
“I’m sorry, Owner, please. I’ll do better. I’ll try harder.” Her pleas became desperate, incoherent as he yanked on her hair dragging her down to the coarse concrete floor. She felt every grain of grit, every sharp edge like fire burning across her skin.
He dragged her past the wet room towards the only other door that wasn’t the exit. When she’d first been imprisoned here, she’d thought maybe it was a wardrobe, that something behind the wooden door could be her salvation. How wrong she’d been.
Inside was the making of nightmares, not a gateway to a magical land, but a horror that birthed fears. The wrought iron key didn’t open a gateway to a mystical land, but a portal to Hell’s arsenal. Owner reached inside, dragging a heavy chair from within, tossing her into it as if she weighed nothing. Before her head stopped spinning, before she’d even had a chance to protest, she felt the bite of leather across her torso as he twisted her into position, bending her arms down as if there was no resistance. Although she felt as though she fought with everything she had, her strength had long since deserted her.
The chair scraped against the floor under her futile efforts. Fear and exhaustion weakening her fight as two heavy straps secured each of her legs. Another strap was secured around her torso. His hand traced her shivering flesh before he twisted her nipple. She bit her lip, closing her eyes as she tried not to cry.
It was a few long seconds before she realised the pain never faded, that it wasn’t his unwanted fingers bringing her fresh agony. It was a clamp. The same metal kind he was fixing on her other nipple.
She begged through tears as she saw the sinister gleam in his eyes as the extended chain was dangled before her vision, the third clamp caught the light as his hand descended between her legs, massaging her clit, bringing another wave of disgusting pleasure before the burning pain of the clamp bit down. It was like he had hands everywhere.
The second she cried out, he shoved something into her mouth. The plastic mouth guard sat inside her mouth like a retainer, depressing her tongue. She gagged, begging as he began to fasten a leather head harness around her, keeping it in place.
The man thought of everything. Every damn thing to keep her helpless, ensure she knew there was no relief, no escape.
He moved too quickly for her to even resist. Not that she could move now. “My last lesson was obviously not clear enough. Maybe this will drive the point home.” Her eyes widened as wires swayed before her vision. She’d seen something similar before, in one of the events she’d attended, but nothing quite so… sinister looking. The wires attached to the clamps, fear causing a cold sweat to prickle against her skin as she pleaded without restraint, fear and the mouth guard muffling her raspy whispers of desperation as tears moistened the leather straps crisscrossing over her face.
He pulled out his phone. Always his phone. She tossed her head from side to side, tears streaking her face as she begged, pleaded, promised. Anything, anything so he wouldn’t do this. His eyes met hers, a smile on his twisted lips seconds before her entire body tensed, pain ripping from the three focal points of the clamps, paralysing everything, even her breath, until suddenly it stopped. The tension released, leaving her sobbing in the chair, begging for mercy as she fought through snot and tears to breathe.
“You will obey.” The charge ripped through her again, her body rigid, straining against the straps as every muscle grew taut, her voice stolen to mute her screams of agony. “You will not come without permission.” Again, agony lit her up from the inside. “You will kneel whenever I enter a room.” A wave of exhaustion followed the pain this time, bile burning her throat. “You will only ever address me as Owner.” Yes, she could do that, she tried to say. She’d be a good girl. She’d comply. “You are my property. You are mine to use as I see fit.”
