“I need to get dressed,” I stammered, stepping out of his hold.
The irritation on his face was obvious, but he nodded at me and strode out of the room to let me change. Taking one last glance in the mirror, bile rose up in my throat and I ran to the bathroom. Unable to make it to the toilet, my breakfast came back up my esophagus into the sink. I heaved until there was nothing left in my stomach, and then I retched some more.
How could this be happening? When had my life taken such a drastic turn? I may not have known a lot about the world I lived in, but I knew, deep down in my now empty belly, that dads were not supposed to lust after their daughters.
I placed my forehead against the cool granite countertop of the sink and let the events of the day wash over me. Somehow, my dream of this day, had turned into an absolute nightmare. I had woken up an innocent and ignorant girl, and now, well, I didn’t know what I was. What I did know was I was not the same person I had been a few hours before.
“Phoenix?” My mother called out from my bedroom. “Where the fuck are you?”
I rolled my eyes. On top of everything else, my mother was the last person I wanted to see. I knew she would have some snarky remark, and my brain wasn’t prepared to deal with it, on top of everything else.
“Are you in here?” she asked, flinging open the half ajar door to my bathroom. I turned to look at her, as she looked me up and down.
Her next noise confused me even more.
“I see your father has been to see you,” she chuckled, pointing at my new necklace.
Out of instinct I wrapped my fingers around the stone and looked down at my feet. Of course she was not so silently judging me.
“It’s no wonder he is so fascinated with you; waltzing around naked as they day you were born. Did he touch you?” She asked.
My head snapped up to see the smirk in her eyes. Why would she ask me something like that?
“No,” I whispered, unsure what the correct answer was supposed to be.
“A shame. Had he deflowered you before tonight, no one would purchase you. Get dressed, slut,” she waved her hand exiting the bathroom. “We’re waiting for you.”
My mouth dropped open at the name she had said to me. My own mother had called me a slut for being naked in my own room. I couldn’t understand her complete and utter contempt for me. Even if she had wed my father and given birth to me without consent or want, I still grew inside of her. I was still half hers.
I couldn’t think about that now. If I tried to wrap my head around it, I’d end up never leaving my bathroom. I needed to get dressed. Something inside me told me that in order to survive the evening, I needed to be on my best behavior.
I quickly rinsed out my mouth, and rushed over to the bed. The material of the dress was still just as I remembered, but I would have traded it in an instant to go back to my blissful ignorance from this morning. I unzipped the garment on the side and stepped into it, pulling it up my body. It felt even more exquisite than it had during the tailoring.
I took a moment to admire myself in the mirror after I zipped it up and put on my heels. I looked older, wiser, than I had this morning. My knowledge of my new life had already aged me. I hoped it would be a redeeming quality during the auction tonight. I still wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen, but I knew I needed to look my best and play my part.
Maybe I would get lucky and have a kind Master. If you had asked me this morning, I would have said I wanted to find someone exactly like my father. If you asked me now, my answer would be completely different.
I didn’t know what would happen if I didn’t get bid on, but something deep down inside told me, I didn’t want to find out. Grabbing my black masquerade mask, I took one last look at my childhood bedroom thinking I would probably never step foot in this room again, and I shut the door on my past.
Chapter 4
Zander
The mask Mildred had picked out for me was silver and it covered half of my face, making me look like the Phantom, but I wish it had covered more than that. I had no desire for anyone to know who I was. Being the son of the former High Master was, to put it bluntly, exhausting. The population of The Faith had no idea I didn’t want to take his spot. It had been passed down the Cunningham line for generations. The only reason the society hadn’t pushed for me to take my rightful spot was my lack of wife.
Every year my father had made excuses as to why I hadn’t participated in the auction. For a few years he had told them I was focusing on my degree. The next few years, my sisters had been eligible to go and he told them I didn’t want to steal their thunder. The last few years had been harder to excuse away, and I begrudgingly had to attend and make my own pardons. After all was said and done though, it was easily excused that I just hadn’t found the right whore to warm my bed. This year though, I had no choice. I had to bid, and I had to win. The hard part would be getting out of taking the High Master’s seat.
I didn’t want to think of that right now. I just needed to get through the clusterfuck this evening would bring without the monster inside of me trying to escape, and then I could focus on the next set of problems; training a slave, getting her through her tasks, and dealing with a position I didn’t want.
I took a quick glance in the mirror at myself. A solid black tuxedo, a black dress shirt and a black and silver tie. I wanted to blend in, and not be noticed, but something told me that was unlikely to happen. I stepped closer into the mirror to look into my eyes. They were red, a product of too much day drinking on top of an already mind numbing hangover. Unfortunately, the red of my pupils nor the silver of my mask didn’t hide the bright emerald green eyes I had been born with.
During my wild days as an early adult, I had mesmerized many women with them. Something about them brought on a sense of tranquility and safety. My hands and my fists told a different story, but my eyes always seemed to calm them. I had watched the flame go out in so many women’s eyes as they stared into my own, finding only the path to hell twinkling back at them.
I shook my head and donned my mask, hoping to hide behind it.
“Mildred, is the car ready?” I barked out.
“Yes, Master Zander,” she croaked, handing me my coat and my wallet. “It’s waiting out front for you, Sir.”
I grabbed the items from her and walked towards the front door. As was tradition, a stretch limo waited for me, the driver, Claire holding the door open. She had been my father’s driver for as long as I could remember. She had also been my secret childhood friend who I had told everything to.
“Sir,” she bowed slightly as I climbed in, a grin on her face.
I chuckled at her and took my place in the seat. “You know I hate when you call me that.”
“I know, but it’s so fun to watch you squirm.”
She shut the door as I shook my head. Claire was a beast of a woman. Standing at six foot five, she still towered over me by two inches. Most men were slightly scared of her, and enjoyed beating her into submission when she was younger. My dad took pity on her when she hadn’t been bid on and took her under his wing as his driver.
“You know better than to talk to me like that, Claire,” I stated sarcastically, as she got in the driver’s seat.
“I know,” she laughed, but it’s so fun.”
She put the car in drive and we headed to our destination. We were only about ten minutes away from the town hall, but I knew the drive would seem far shorter. I wasn’t ready for this, and I didn’t want it.
“You’re going to be fine, Zander,” Claire said, catching on to my nerves. “Find a timid girl who will do what you say, and let her do what she was born to do. Put a baby or two in her belly and steer clear of her otherwise. You’re going to make it just fine.”
I wanted to believe her. I wanted her to be right, but she didn’t know the ugliness inside of me. At least not the full extent of it.
“Can’t I just take you for a wife?” I laughed through my nerves? “You already kno
w me, for the most part.”
“You know that’s not how this works, Zander. I had my chance for the auction and no one wanted me. Besides, I’m old enough to be your mother, and my child bearing days are long past me.”
“How much do you have left on your debt?” I asked her.
“At least another twenty years,” she sighed, looking back at the road.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve had a good life. You family has treated me kindly. It could have been much worse for me.”
I nodded because, she was right. There were very few jobs that didn’t consist of spreading your legs for any man who wanted to be between them. Because my father owned her, he had that right, as did I, but no one else could touch her without father’s permission, and he never gave it out. Sometimes, I thought maybe he had loved Claire but knew he couldn’t have her.
“We’re here, Zander,” Claire said, interrupting my thoughts.
I looked out the limo window at the building we sat in front of. It was extravagant. Back in the turn of the century, it had been some sort of a Victorian Castle for Lords and Ladies. My great, great, great, great, great grandfather had purchased it after it had been abandoned for many years. He knew this was where he wanted to started his new society.
Today, it had been renovated extensively. The outside still held all of the charm it had had back in the day, but the inside boasted a more modern approach. It was kept well cleaned by the older women in The Faith while the younger, unowned slaves kept up with the maintenance when they weren’t being used and abused.
If it wasn’t for the fact that the system as a whole disgusted me, it would almost make me proud to be in a society like the one I was born into. Everything ran like a well-oiled machine. Work was divided up based on skill set, and if a new skill was needed, an unowned woman would learn it.
Everything was scheduled down to the minute. Women were up at five am, and made presentable. The cooks started on breakfast, the maids cleaned out the whore rooms, and the workers started on their daily chores. Breakfast was served to any man who wanted to attend at seven sharp. Some brought their wives to eat, and some brought their wives to service them under the table.
The remainder of the day was spent keeping the grounds cleaned and running while meetings were held for the men in power. Lunch and dinner were served for anyone who wanted to attend and the unowned sluts were prepared for another night of paying off their debts at the feet of a man.
Every Tuesday and Thursday were town hall meeting days where the Masters could bring unowned slaves if punishment was needed for their transgressions. They could also bring their own slave if they had one, and wanted to publicly humiliate them or use the punishment tools that were available in the community center. The High Master would lay down her punishment, and move on to the next. I assumed the High Council was currently in charge of discipline as there was no High Master.
Every night, Masters with or without slaves could come in and claim a whore or two to have their way with. They could sleep there if they wanted but most chose to go home. It had been running this way for over a hundred years, my family at the helm.
“Are you getting out, Zander?” Claire arched an eyebrow at me, standing outside the open limo door.
I nodded at her and exited the car. “Thank you,” I smiled at her.
“It is my honor to serve you, Sir,” she smiled, winking at me.
Claire always knew how to put a smile on my face, I thought, as I climbed the stairs into the grand entrance of the community center. As usual with this event, everything around me was opulent and beautiful. Young girls of twenty-one, giddy and excited, huddled together in small groups, giggling and looking at all the masked men coming into the room.
Older slaves put on a good face, but the truth behind their eyes was loud and all encompassing. They were once in the young girls shoes, and knew the excitement that they felt. But they also knew what was really happening and would be there to help pick up the shattered pieces of the girls’ innocence when the night was over.
I walked over to the bar and asked for a vodka on the rocks to the middle aged woman manning the station.
“Yes, Master,” she exclaimed, fetching a bottle from the top shelf and pouring it into the glass of ice.
I swallowed the entire glass down in one gulp and tapped my finger on the bar for another. She didn’t hesitate.
Throwing a hundred dollar bill into her jar, I walked away, knowing my generous tip wouldn’t touch the debt she had on her. She would probably see less than five dollars of it.
The ballroom around me was filled with people. This was always the biggest event we had in The Faith, and everyone who was old enough attended, sporting their masquerade best. According to my father, this was going to be one of the bigger auctions that had been held in over a decade. He had been excited to attend.
“Zander? Is that you?” A man to my left came crashing through the crowd.
I groaned before putting on an obligatory smile and holding out my hand to shake.
“Hello Corbin,” I greeted my brother in law. “Where is Bella?”
My older sister was twenty eight and madly in love with her Master, the man standing before me.
“She went to the bar to get me a drink. How are you, man? Are you excited to finally take a slave of your own?” He asked me, dropping my hand.
I nodded at him, looking around for Bella. I didn’t want to answer because my answer would have been a resounding ‘Fuck. No.’
“Have you seen Tyler and Jenny?” I asked Corbin, inquiring about my younger sister.
“Tyler is around here somewhere, but I doubt you will see his slave,” he chuckled.
The anger in me bubbled up and I gritted my teeth. “Why not?”
“You really gotta start coming to the hearings on Tuesday and Thursdays man,” he laughed, making me see red. “Jenny was caught sleeping when Tyler got home from work on Wednesday. She hadn’t even made him dinner. I think they sentenced her to forty eight hours in the blue room,” he shrugged.
“What the fuck,” I growled.
I didn’t bother waiting for his response as I tore off in the direction of the torture rooms in the basement. Before I could make it out of the ballroom, a gentle hand grabbed my wrist.
“Bella,” I whispered, pulling her in for a hug. “Where is Jenny?”
“Zander, brother. It’s ok. Jenny has done her punishment and is resting in a spare room. I’ve already checked on her.”
The relief flooded through me. As much as I didn’t care for Corbin, I knew that Bella loved him and he treated her decently enough. Tyler on the other hand, was a vile, low life, scumbag who I despised with every fiber of my being.
Tyler and I had gone to school together and were the same age. We had been best friends all the way through middle school. Even before we knew about the full extent of our role in the community, he had always held a crush for my little sister. In the early days I didn’t think much of it, but as we got older, I saw Tyler change. By high school, gone was the simple school crush, Tyler had morphed into pure obsession when it came to Jenny. As soon as our entire purpose on earth was revealed to us, Tyler vowed Jenny would one day be his slave.
When Jenny turned twenty-one and was put up for auction, only one person bid on her. Tyler. Every other guy knew if they even tried, Tyler would kill them. He was insane with lust for her, and would stop at nothing to get her kneeling before him.
I tried to talk to my father about it. I tried reasoning that Jenny was his little girl, but his only response was ‘She’s a slave, Zander. A worthless, cunt. If Tyler wants her and can afford her, then she will be his worthless cunt.’
I looked at Bella, and kissed her cheek. “How are you, sister?” I asked.
“I’m pregnant, Zander. You’re going to be an uncle!’ She whispered.
My eyes widened and I kissed her forehead to hide my shock. “Congratulations,” I told her.
“I think it’s a boy,” she said rubbing her belly. “I don’t know why, but he feels strong like his father.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have been over the moon happy to hear this great news, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel it. I could only hope and pray that the child was indeed a boy, and Bella wouldn’t have to one day send her daughter off to the slaughterhouse of this life.
I kissed Bella’s forehead once again and left her to go check on Jenny. The blue room was one of the worst punishments a slave could receive. It was usually reserved for adultery or worse. My blood boiled as I imagined Tyler asking for the maximum sentence for his wife for a minor transgression. Not only was Tyler delusional, he was also psychotic.
I found her, as Bella has stated, resting in a spare bedroom on the second floor. She looked half dead, but I could see her chest moving up and down, so I knew she was, in fact, alive.
“Jenny, It’s Zander. Can you hear me? Jenny wake up.”
Jenny rolled over, her eyes barely opening. “Zander, you’re here,” she squeaked, trying to wrap her arms around my neck for a hug.”
“Don’t move, Jenny. How bad was it?” I asked.
“I’ve had worse,” she chuckled, wincing in pain.
“Bullshit. What did they do to you?”
“Nothing I didn’t deserve,” she choked out. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but Tyler had kept me up all night and I was so tired.”
“Shush now, Jenny. Get some more sleep. I’ll come see you again before I leave.”
She nodded at me, and laid her head back on the pillow.
“Zander?” She called out, as I rose to leave.
“Yes, Jenny?”
“Treat her right,” she whispered before falling back to sleep once more.
“I’ll do my best.”
My definition of best versus Jenny’s definition of best would be seriously different, but I wouldn’t lie to my sister. I intended on treating my new wife as best I was able to. As long as she didn’t press my buttons and enrage the monster inside of me, we would both be ok.
Unmasked Page 3
