Prisoner of Love

Chapter 1: First light (part 3)

Day 2

I laid there in bed letting the memories of my past fade from mind, as I slowly became ever more conscious of the dark loneliness that surrounded me, both inside and out.

I hated my dreams. The one of my first stay at the Bad-Man's house was only one of many nightmares that haunted me over the past six years. What stuck with me the most was his methods of correction. The Bad-Man's punishments were designed not to cause physical bruising or scars. Only the best for his guests. I balled my fists at the thought. One would think without outward harm to the body the method would prove ineffective, but as I found out, you could still suffer a lot of pain without the harmful markings. His favorite tool of correction was The Lift. He would leave us hanging upside down for close to an hour without rest.

I wiped the sleep from my eyes, along with the thought. I wouldn't let my nightmare ruin the morning, It was the last thing I wanted to think about because I felt surprisingly good for the first time in a long time. My body felt at complete ease, nestled on a plush cloud of softness within the comfort of the thick, heavy blanket that rested on top of me. For once my body felt loose and relaxed, and not in the least bit sore. It was such an unfamiliar sensation, I didn't know what to make of it.

Unfortunately, I knew all good things had to come to an inevitable end. I knew my caretaker was coming soon.

I slowly blinked my eyes open, fully expecting to be blinded by my usual brightly lit room, only to realize I was back once again in the unfamiliar stony cell, right where I fell asleep.

I bolted upright in the bed and looked around just to make sure my eyes weren't playing a trick on me. My mind raced with thoughts as to why I was still here. The Bad-Man had a strict six-hour rule with his guests. I wasn't sure how long it had been exactly, but I was more than confident this guest's time was up.

My eyes fell upon a place on my right between the head of the bed and the foliage. Memories came flooding back to me as I realized that was where I fell asleep at. I had no memory of waking up and crawling into bed. I quickly raised the blankets and scanned my body, I was still clothed in the pale nightgown I arrived in.

I didn't have time to figure things out before hearing a loud tumbling click from the large metal door. The sound made my heart leap into my throat. Laying back quickly, I pulled the covers up close to my face in the hopes of disappearing. My thoughts ran wild as the door opened, my eyes darting immediately to the table and the untouched glass of water that still sat upon it.

I knew I would be in trouble if the guest had blabbed to the Bad-Man. He hated when we didn't clean our trays. In my defense, our food and drink came from our caretakers, not our house guests. I wasn't sure what kind of game the guest was playing, but he obviously misread the rules. I was sure I had every right to refuse to it, even if it was a simple glass of water.

I felt like the world was moving in slow motion. At that moment, I debated whether or not to leap out of bed and down the glass before the door opened fully. In that moment my brain also stepped in as the voice of reason against my gut. Its words were few and simple, it's impossible. That was it, I was going to be punished and there was nothing I could do about it.

My eyes widened more as the man behind the door stepped in. My heart, pounding like crazy, almost came to a bitter halt seeing the Cloaked-Man from before. I looked on almost in shock. I questioned myself as to what he was still doing here. He should have been gone hours ago and I should have been escorted back.

I didn't want to say anything just yet, I was honestly happy to see anyone other than the Bad-Man.

I stayed there hidden underneath the covers and watched as the man made his way to the table. I didn't even notice he was carrying another tray until he set it down next to the old one. On it was another glass of water. My eyes narrowed in confusion. There was no logical reason to bring another glass of water when the previous one had yet to be touched. I figured the man in the cloak was someone else, someone that didn't know about the first glass. It made sense if they were caretakers, caretakers that apparently didn't like being seen. What if it was a cult? The lightbulb went off in my head at the thought. It was entirely possible I had been rented. It wasn't unheard of for the Bad-Man to rent us out to other affiliated establishments. However, that was limited to a select few attendants, and only to high paying guest. As far as I knew, the thirty-one girls used for his themed venues, myself included, weren't a part of those select few, we weren't even allowed outside of the establishment.