Page 14 of Hearts Etched in Glass
The brute force of his foot comes down, stomping on top of my hands. “You will not give yourself pain, that is my job and of course you will never have the things you want. For you are perverted. A cretin. A botched abortion.”
I wince at his words, though I like some degradation he always takes it too far, but this is all I know. I’m too scared to seek out any comfort or approach anyone for the kind of things I need to satisfy the dark desires that call to me.
“You don’t deserve anything nice,” Master says through gritted teeth and then kicks me onto the ground. The side of my head hits the floor roughly, causing my brain to feel dizzy. Numbness and tingling shoot down my limbs in the most uncomfortable manner. I reach for my blindfold but am met with hot wax at the back of my hand, causing me to yelp in agony.
The next several seconds are rough.
I thought I utilized my safe word. I believe I stated it multiple times. I most definitely broke character and shouted it, because of the pain.
Though, before I realize it, I’ve passed out and awoken in the room alone. My eyelashes have crusted over from crying. My muscles ache from the tension and strain. Turning my head to the side, I assess the room. It appears to be the same. The fire has died out, my clothes are where they had last been and I’m laying with just a sheet over my body. Only a note and a tall glass of water may be found on the side table. I reach for the note, every ounce of my shoulders screaming with tension as I feel something pulling at my lower body.
Marcus,
You failed, yet again. The next time we meet I expect you to have more resiliency and not pathetically show yourself in such a vulnerable state.
- Master
I crumble up the note as anguish and hatred erupt in my chest. I need to stop this terrible relationship, but I can’t.
A sob escapes my throat before I have the chance to swallow it. I bring my hands to my face and feel the tightness again in my lower body.
Everyone has someone, butme.
What is wrong with me?
The pulling finally irritates me enough that I reach to my backside and find melted wax encased over my ass. I punch the pillow as I let out a scream of frustration. Then I begin to clean myself in the small, adjacent washroom.
Once I leave the chamber and walk down the hallway, passing the pleasurable sounds and heady voices. I spy a man leaving through one of the black doors across from me.
It is Kenneth Afton.
He peers up, face lit with recognition once he spots me, then turns his head in questioning. Fear twists in my abdomen as he approaches. His stature is larger than any of the Afton brothers, very demanding and daunting, especially when he wears his three piece black suit and onyx bolero hat. He is a hateful creature and now he is gaining on me. His arm reaches out to grasp my shoulder. I unwillingly wince at the contact as he narrows his eyes, assessing me.
“Are you well?” he says with such concern.
Kenneth is never concerned about anyone but himself.
I nod like a proud soldier, but do not mutter a word for his kindness makes my heart break.
His face is unreadable, but he definitely doesn't believe my lie.
“I’ll take you home, alright?” He nods, clutching a pack of cigarettes and then offers one to me.
Then we march alongside one another in silence, as we both try to forget we have ever seen each other in the house of debauchery and sin.
Chapter 7: Bobby
Where’s Your Head At,Basement Jaxx
Rolling the tiny glass marble across the counter, I sit next to Baba as we await our new partners to join the second official business meeting.
Jesus this shit is so fucking boring.
I would much rather take care of the taverns, run guns underground, or just be on the more gangster aspect of the operation versus the legal bullshit.
Taking two fingers, I roll the marble back and forth between my palms, while Kenneth sits at the head of the table. We have absorbed a vehicle parts industry or some sort of people that make vehicle parts.
I have no fucking idea.
