“Where’s the money?”
“We don’t have it! What did you do to him? Where is he?” she snaps.
“I put a bullet in his brain.”
A barrage of screams follows one second of silence; my mommy runs toward the men, only to stop inches in front of them. I hold my breath when the bangs happen again.
Then my mommy falls down.
I can see her lying in front of me, holding a small Swiss Army knife in her hand, her face turned toward me. Red marks are all over her white dress.
My eyes widen as hers narrow slowly, and she reaches out toward me, her lips parting to whisper, “I. Love. You.”
A single tear runs down her cheek and onto the red-stained carpet.
And then the bed is lifted off me.
I scream at the sight of the scary, bald guy with sunglasses, who’s barely twice my age, standing above me. “Well, hello there.”
“Goddammit. Again, no fucking money. Why do all of these fuckers keep asking for a loan with interest when they can’t pay it off in time?” another one next to him with cowboy boots spits, and he walks toward us. “Don’t they ever learn their lesson?”
I cower underneath the bed, crawling backward as much as I can, but I can’t seem to get away from the scary men.
“Well, look what we have here …” the one with the cowboy boots says, laughing a little. “Maybe we can sell her to get some of it back.”
“She looks barely seven.”
“Who cares? They’ll take anything with a pussy, as long as it can clean and cook.”
“No. I’m not doing this again.”
“You know what the boss said.”
“I know what he said,” the bald one spits. “I don’t give a damn.”
“I’m not gonna fucking risk getting my head chopped off, so fuck you. I’m taking her.”
The bald one growls as the other one steps toward me, and I cry out. “Mommy?”
“Mommy’s not gonna help you now, kiddo,” the cowboy boots man says, smiling at me with rotten teeth.
“What did you do to my mommy?” I scream, crying my eyes out.
“I had no other choice when she charged at me, but your mommy and daddy brought this on themselves,” he says.
“Shut up,” the bald one says. “I’m tired of listening to your shit.”
“What did you say?” They face each other now; their heads almost close enough to slam into each other. “Got a problem?”
“Don’t fucking taunt the girl. She’s seen enough.”
“I ain’t leaving without money, so I’m taking her. Unless you can come up with another way to fix this shit, we’ll both be dead.”
“Fine,” the bald one spits and he looks at me. “I’ll take her.”
My eyes widen as he comes toward me, and I scream for him to stay away, but he doesn’t.
He picks me up in his arms, and I pound away at his back as he lifts me over his shoulder. “No! Mommy!” I yell, wanting her to get up and take me away from this scary man.
But she never does.
She never gets up.
She doesn’t look at me when he takes me out of the room.
Her smile is gone.
All that’s left are tears red from the flow of blood and a gaping hole in my heart.
***
Now
The image of my mother’s dead eyes is still imprinted in mine until this very day.
When I tell the story of how I became an orphan overnight, it always brings chills to my bones.
I still can’t believe it happened to me, and some dark, wishful part of me still believes it was just a dream. But I know it wasn’t. I’m living the life I was brought into just days after.
My mother was my world. I was too young to live without her … all those precious memories … gone … replaced by one brutal event that has taken control of my life.
And worst of all … I can’t even remember my parents’ names.
Master Marcus shifts uncomfortably in his chair, clearing his throat, a restless frown on his face. “What happened next?” he asks.
“Oh … I thought you were perhaps taken aback by my past.”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know everything.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding and swallowing, and then looking away to process my own story. “Well, when that man came and took me away, much of what happened after was a blur, but I specifically remember being taken to a house where several other women were kept in cages, and there was this guard dog constantly barking. I remember how frightened I was and how badly I wanted my mother … At that age, I didn’t know what death meant. What my life meant, and what happened when they took me.”
“What did they do to you?”
I look him in the eyes. “They trained me.”
His eyes flash with something powerful I can’t put into words, but it catches my attention nonetheless. “Trained you to do what?”
“Serve.”
***
Marcus
I nod slowly, rubbing my chin. I still find it hard to come to terms with what she’s saying. To regard it as the truth would be insane, monstrous, but she cannot lie …
It’s almost too hard to handle. However, I need her to tell me everything … until the very last detail. “So those men who murdered your parents, what were they after?”
“I suppose they wanted money, Master. Something about a loan. I don’t know why. I was too young to know anything about it,” she says.
“But they took you instead …”
“As payment, yes. When my parents couldn’t give them what they wanted, they took me and sold me instead.”
I take a deep breath and let out a sigh, looking away from her. Just the thought of this monstrous act makes me sick to my stomach.
“Sorry, Master … If I overwhelm you, I can stop.” She licks her lips.
“No, no, it’s fine.” I gesture for her to continue.
She nods. “I was sold to a man who raised me to be a servant. He told me that is what I was born to be … for someone to use … and that I should accept it, so I did. I obeyed his rules. Got punished if I messed up, and—”
“Punished?” I interrupt.
“Yes, Master. With whips and sometimes chains if it was bad enough.”
So it’s true. They truly beat her up and with tools. I had seen the scars on her back when she stripped, but I chose not to ask about it. I didn’t want to ruin her already fragile thoughts … but listening to this now makes me feel like I’ve been a fool. I ignored her wounds and scars intentionally, knowing full well how deeply damaged, both inside and out, she truly was.
I told myself I didn’t ask her about them to spare her … but it was actually to spare myself.
“When would he do this?” I ask, biting the inside of my cheek.
“When I dropped something on the floor or when I was late. Or if I got sick.”
I make a face. “He would beat you if you were sick?”
“Yes. As servants, we are never supposed to be sick. It is our fault for getting infected in the first place,” she says.
I frown as the very idea of being blamed for being sick makes me fume. “What kind of nonsense …” Instead of finishing my sentence, I gaze at my cup of coffee, realizing that the more questions I ask, the worse my anger becomes.
But I must continue. For both our sakes, I must know the full extent of her misery.
“But everything we do wrong is our fault, of course. We must not do things wrong. We’ve been taught how to do them correctly, so there is no reason to make mistakes.”
“Hmm …” I don’t even know what to say to her.
She’s been brainwashed into complete submission to the point of not caring about her own well-being.
“I was trained to be perfect,” she continues. “We are rewarded with love if we are perfect. I like love,” she says, smiling softly as if it proves her case.
“Love? What kind of love?”
So sex becomes a tool to reward good behavior, even though she is used all the same. How revolting.
“When I was old enough and knew all the rules, I was sent to live with a new Master.”
“The man I bought you from …” I say.
“Yes, Master. He purchased me so I would come to work for him and live in his home. He has many servants, all of which are grateful to have been bought by him because we would not be alive if he did not keep us.”
Jesus Christ. It’s really bad.
Which makes me wonder …
“What about those scars on your back?” I raise a brow.
She shuts her mouth and looks a bit taken aback. “Well … they are from my … previous Master. The older scars are from when he personally wanted to train me even further. Said he wanted to hear me scream. He taught me how to beg.”
Just listening to her words makes me want to vomit.
“Then the newer ones are also from when I did not get wet enough for him. It was my fault for not being wet enough,” she says. “Although, when I was wet enough for him, he would still strike me with a cane that had jagged edges at the end. Sometimes, he would use it on my sensitive parts … like my breasts or pussy. He said he enjoyed the pain on my face and the blood mixing with his cum.”
I hold up my hand and close my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Master. I’ve said too much,” she says.
“Excuse me.” I get up and walk to the bathroom, where I lift the seat and kneel to puke.
Everything comes out, breakfast and coffee, but the taste left in my mouth when I’m done doesn’t even begin to compare to the sourness of her experience.
Those monsters … will pay.
9
Ava
A few days later
For the first time in my life, I’m in a city.
A real city called Portland.
Not just the house that I live in, or the rooms that I clean, but actually in the outside world.
I can’t stop looking out the window; I’m practically glued to the glass as we ride through the streets and I stare at all the shops and all the people bustling about. I see them talk, whisper, laugh, eat. Live. I want to know who they are and what they do. I want to know everything about this world that I never saw before.
“You look excited,” Master Marcus muses.
I sit down properly again. “Yes, Master, very excited. I’ve never been to a city before.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything. I think you’ll like Portland.”
“I think so too. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “We’re not even out of the car yet.”
“Oh, I know. I’m just already thrilled to see other people.”
He frowns. “You didn’t see much before you came to live with me, did you?”
“No … but that’s okay. Of course, I am only a servant.”
He leans in and places a hand on my leg, making me feel all warm and tingly. “You are more than just a servant.” He smiles and tips my chin up. “You’re mine.”
He presses a gentle kiss on my lips, turning me inside out. His warm lips are tantalizing, but the kiss only lasts for a second … not long enough.
“Now, when we go out there, I want you to do something for me.”
“Anything, Master.”
He looks down at me. “Don’t call me Master. Call me Marcus instead.”
“But …”
“It would look silly to other people if you don’t, do you understand?”
“Yes, Mas—Marcus.” My cheeks turn bright red when I hear my own mistake, but it sounds bad to say his name too … as if I’m not supposed to say it out loud.
“Good girl.” He pats me on the leg and then the car stops. “We’re here.”
He opens the door and gets out, walking around the car to open my door as well. He grabs my hand and escorts me out. Then he lets go of me. No leash, no shackles, no nothing. Nothing binds me to him. Nothing keeps me from running away. And even though it sits in the forefront of my mind, I don’t make the jump toward freedom.
I don’t want to … or maybe I’m simply unable to let him, my safety net, go.
“C’mon, let’s go inside,” he says, and he takes me into the nearest building.
There are racks and racks filled with only women’s clothes, as far as the eye can see. My jaw drops and I marvel at the sight of all the pretty colors, wondering where we are and why we’re here.
“This is a shop. In every shop, they sell something. This place is where they sell clothes for you.”
“Oh my … they look wonderful, Mas—Marcus.” I clear my throat.
His eyes catch mine for a brief moment before looking away. “Go on, then. Take something you like.”
I go to one of the racks and touch the soft fabric of a dress. It feels like a little piece of heaven on my fingers, so delicate. “It’s beautiful.”
“Let me see.”
I take it off the rack and hold it in front of my body. “How does it look?”
He raises a brow. “You should try it on.”
“Really? But it isn’t mine.”
“It is yours if I want it to be,” he says. “Anything you want, I can buy it for you.”
“Oh, but I can’t take that …”
His eyes narrow. “Yes, you can.”
I swallow away the lump in my throat when I see him stare at me, and I get the sense that this is some sort of test. So I take the dress and walk to the dressing room. It takes a while to get out of my current outfit and step into the dress; I’m not used to how good it fits me.
I hesitate to step out but do it anyway because the only mirror is out in the front.
When I do, I find Master Marcus staring at me from a corner. Licking his lips, he comes closer and smiles when I look up at him. “Beautiful.”
Now, I blush even more.
“What do you think?” he asks, signaling at the mirror.
I go and stand in front of it, my eyes widening at the sight of my own self. I can’t believe it’s me. I look so different. Just one dress can make all the difference in the world. I almost look like … a normal person right now. Like someone who owns servants instead of being one.
I jolt up and down when I feel his hands on my shoulder.
“You look lovely, don’t you agree?”
“Yes, Marcus …” I still dislike saying his real name, but I’m getting used to the rule now. “I adore it.”
“Great. We’ll take it then.”
“Wha—what? You’d buy this for me?”
“Yeah.” His smile is bright and makes me flush. “Why not?”
“Well, I’m not … I’m not …”
He leans in, his lips near my ear, whispering coyly, “You’re not … what?”
I shiver, my lip quivering with delight from him being so close to me. “I—Thank you, Marcus.” I hesitate for a second, but then I finally realize what he wants … for me to not say that I am beneath him because to him, I’m not. But I don’t understand why that is.
“You’re welcome.” He squeezes my shoulders lightly and then turns around. “Go ahead and put your regular clothes back on. We’ll go to the next shop.”
“Next shop?” I say as I enter my stall.
“Yeah. I want to stop by them all so you’ll get a good look at Portland and, more importantly, feel what it’s like to be a normal human being.”
I feel so out of place when he says that, but still, it makes me blush like nothing else. Master Marcus is too kind.
***
After visiting only five shops, our arms are filled with bags, and Master Marcus refuses to let me carry any of them. He keeps hauling me into stores, where, of course, I marvel at every piece of jewelry and clothing and gadget I come across. It’s such a world of opulence, one of which I didn’t know the full extent, but I feel honored to take a peek, even if
it won’t last forever. The vast wealth people have and the products they consume both terrify and amaze me. It’s so much to take in. My previous Master never allowed us to wear jewelry or clothes, and he despised technology.
But not Master Marcus … he seems to enjoy watching me gawk at all the items, and he keeps pressuring me to try new stuff. Like now, he’s bought us ice cream in a cone, and when I lick it, the cold immediately shoots up to my brain and makes me shiver.
“Brain freeze,” he says, muffling a laugh.
“A what?”
“Brain freeze. It’s what happens when you eat the ice cream too quickly.” He grins.
“Hmm … but how could I not eat this quickly, Marcus? This is … so good.” I salivate before even putting it in my mouth every single time I take a lick.
“Well, I’m glad you like it. I want to try lots of stuff with you.”
“Really? But … why?” I ask.
He frowns, gazing at me from the corner of his eyes.
“Sorry, Marcus, I did not mean to offend you,” I say, clearing my throat.
“It’s okay. I’m not mad. I’m just always so surprised by how little you’ve experienced. But questions are good. Always ask questions. Never be satisfied with a partial answer.”
“Right … I just wonder why you want to do all this with me when there are so many other girls who would kill to spend time with you.”
He laughs. “Kill? Well, that’s an overstatement. You really think I’d be that popular with the ladies?”
My eyes widen and I blush when I realize what I’ve said. “Oh, yes, yes, of course, I mean, you are very handsome and so kind … But I didn’t mean it like that.”
He laughs again and rubs my back, his touch sending tingles down my spine. “I get it. I’m only messing with you. So … you really think I’m handsome?”
“Well, yes … I think so, at least. Is that okay?” I look up into his warm eyes.
“It’s more than okay,” he says, pulling me closer. “In fact, I feel flattered. And you know what? You can think and feel whatever you want.”
Ultimate Sin Page 8
