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I want to plead my apologies and ask for forgiveness. I don’t want to go to the room. Nothing good happens in the room.
But asking for forgiveness is foolish. Asking foranythingwould be idiotic.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.” I lace my hands behind my back and act the perfect submissive.
“You will be. Go.” He orders quietly, but not at all softly. His voice reverberates through my chest. It feels like my insides are trembling as I keep my eyes unfocused to the wall in front of me as I turn around and walk out of the room. I’m careful not to brush arms or draw attention to myself as my heel clap on the expensive floors. They shine almost mirror-like, so pristine they shouldn’t even be walked on.
Once I’m out of the main hall where the party ends, and his home begins, I stall. I make it to the fork in the hallway where I have to make a decision. I can turn left and run. Run far away and never come back. I might even make it out of here, much of the security is watching has their attention on the party. But I can’t leave Lilah, and I will never make it upstairs and then back out of here with a child. I’ll most definitely be stopped in that scenario. And without a doubt, Santiago would murder me this time. I can only test his patience so many times in my life.
So, I turn to the right. Through the hall and up the grand staircase I go. I turn left, walking into the room that holds my nightmares. They’re trapped here like a closed casket. The room where Santiago took my virginity. The room where he taught me how to be submissive. The room where he hit me, slapped me, abused me, and made me wish I would die.
I slip out of the beautiful dress that’s full of the evil from the night and set it aside. I step out of my panties, leaving me in only my heels. No bra with the dress I’m wearing.
Getting on my knees, I get in the position that Santiago demands, andwait.
6
Ivy
My eyes fly open and I see Santiago standing before me. I’m not sure what woke me. Whether it be the drop in the temperature from his icy cold demeanor, or his heavy stare, I’m not sure. I’m still in my same position. Poised on my knees, hands laced behind my back. I’ve learned well over time how to perfect this stance without wavering. I’ve spent hours upon hours kneeling in this position waiting for his next command.
“Ivy” My name sounds rotten on his tongue.
I say nothing, staring straight ahead and waiting. The icy chill in the room peaks my nipples.
“You were quite foolish tonight, were you not?”
“Yes, Sir.” I whisper.
“Where in the world did you find the balls?” He walks up to me, running his finger down my cheek.
I don’t answer him, because I’m not sure whether he even wants a response.
I hear the wind whistle moments before I feel a fiery burn across my stomach.
I can’t look down, but I imagine see a red welt crossing my entire stomach. From the corner of my eye, I can see him handling his black whip. It’s in no way sexual. Santiago does not do things sexually. He enjoys causing me pain. He likes to see me bruised and bloody. Then he likes to take what he wants from me as my tears cleanse him of his sins. Finally, I’m left empty, and he is full.
“I don’t ever want to see you act out like that again. I do not care if your friend is disemboweled in front of your eyes. Disobey again, and I will take that precious child away from you for good.”
“No.” I sob, unable to be tampered down. The thought of Lilah being taken away from me is gut wrenching.
“Do not speak unless you are spoken to!” The words grind out between his clenched teeth as the whip lashes out again, this time striking my breasts. It feels so hot that I’m surprised blood isn’t sliding down my skin. I flinch and cry out internally but keep my poker face intact.
“I think someone needs a lesson in the rules, don’t you think?” He doesn’t expect a response this time, I’m certain of it. He strikes me over and over again until my body turns numb, the pain no longer affecting me. The only way I can still tell he’s whipping me by whirring of the whip slicing through the air. His strike is powerful, so powerful I listen to his occasional grunt with the force of his whipping.
I listen as the whip clammers to the ground.
He’s finished.
The room smells of metal, and my body is damp. I’m not sure if it’s sweat or blood, probably a mixture of both. Santiago grunts as he bends down, grabbing my hair and whipping me over onto my stomach. I whimper, the pain making an entrance as I’m moved into a new position. I stare at the dark oak trim that lines the walls as I feel Santiago’s body drop behind me. He doesn’t care about prepping me. He spent his time prepping himself as he whipped me into pieces. He’s hard as a rock as he enters me, already throbbing and ready to release.
He pounds into me, vicious and cruel with not a care for my wounds. He cares only about himself, chasing his own orgasm and the demons that follow him. It doesn’t take long. It never does when he whips me for as long as he has. His hand goes to the back of my head and he pushes down. My face smashes into the floor as he pounds into me at a brutal pace. My face mashes into the wood floor as he releases. My mouth opens in a silent cry against the floor. My teeth smash into my lip and shred the tender skin.
I stay where I am even after he’s finished. His hot breath trails down my back and leaves me struggling to tamp down the disgusted shivers.
It takes him a few moments, but he gets up and redresses, walking to the door before turning around. “Get dressed and go home. And don’t let me ever catch you acting out like that again, Ivy. It only takes a flick of my wrist to get you up on that stage.” He closes the door behind him, leaving me on the floor in a bloody heap.
I lay there for many minutes. So long that I drift off and come to. When I’m certain he’s gone and I won’t run into him, I get up, stumbling to my feet and slipping my dress back on. Wobbling to the door, I peak around the corner.
