Training School (BDSM)

Prologue

"Daddy look I found a pretty flower!" I ran towards my parents who were sitting on our picnic blanket. "It's pretty pretty!"

I was holding the rose with both hands as I ran. A root was sticking out of the ground outside of my field of vision causing me to fall on my knees. On instinct, I cried. The thorns from the flower's stem cut through the skin of my fingers and my knees scrape agains the rough ground. I was bleeding on both areas.

My parents rushed over with worry. Mom inspected my wounds and brought out her handkerchief. She lightly dabbed it on my cuts, slowly lessening the small pools of blood around it.

"It's okay, princess." Dad reassured with a loving smile while mom kissed my cheek.

"You know where the food and spare money is, sweetheart." Mom said as she rushed around the house. "We'll be back in three days so behave, alright?"

She walked towards me and gave me a small kiss on my forehead. "Love you, dear."

Dad gave me a brief hug before leaving with her.

"Oh wow you really think he would like you that way?" They mocked. "You don't even know how to fix your hair!"

"You look really cheap in that getup. Maybe if you searched through my garbage, you could find something more appealing."

"Are you sure you want to change everything in your wardrobe, darling?" Dad asked.

I simply nodded.

"Okay, then. When do you plan to go shopping? Are you going with mom?"

"No," I meekly replied. "I can manage on my own. Thank you."

"Why are even still here? You're slutty ass should just leave already" A girl in my class cringed.

"Or better yet, die!" Someone else suggested.

"You're worthless anyway. Can't do anything right. Even your clothes aren't right." There was nothing wrong with my clothes. I was only wearing your regular jeans, shirt, and jacket that day.

"If you won't die then at least don't show that hideous face of yours. It might be contagious. I don't want to receive your ugly virus."

"Sweetie, why don't you tie your hair up?" Mom asked as she reached for my  fringe. "Your pretty face will go to waste if the whole word can't see it." Her smile was genuine. But she is my mother. Mothers always say their children are beautiful.

"Oh boo-hoo our little whore tripped and fell." They laughed. "It's not like your face can be even more of a disaster than it already is."

BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP.

My hand reached out and slammed on the digital clock. I took a peak and was greeted by a bright red 7:30 am. Groaning, I went back in the comfort of my duvet to stretch. With a big yawn and a final exhale, My pushed the covers off me.

Today was my last day of being seventeen and I was going to spend it alone. If my parents were not very busy, that is.

I stared into my mirror as soon as I entered my conjoined bathroom. My grey eyes reflected my lack of sleep and what used to be a fair complexion of skin tone was now pale making the bags under my eyes look darker than it's supposed to be.  My dark hair was not exactly like a bird's nest but it was unruly. Perks of having thick hair. I stuck my tongue out at my reflection and went to do my morning toilet ritual.