Daddy's Bunny

Dark Past

I sat in daddy's lap and took a deep breath before beginning.
I was at least 2 when my parents gave me up. Well more like sold me, they were crack heads so when they ran out money they sold me for their fix. A few months after the drug house I was at got busted by the cops. I was put in the system right away. I was shuffled around to different foster homes till landing in the Anderson's. Both the man and woman had their different ways of punishment. Mr. Anderson was more... traditional in is ways. Getting drunk and beating the closest person near him till he passed out. The older girls were often touched in uncomfortable places. It was very often that one them would wake me up crying and trembling.
8 girls lived there at one time. The 4 younger girls slept in one bed the older girls in another. When we woke up to someone crying we all pilled in one bed into a huge cuddle ball till everyone fell asleep again.
Mrs. Anderson on the other hand.. if you asked any the girl's we rather deal with Mr. Anderson the Mrs. Anderson. She often tied girl's up to fill their bellies with water from their private areas. She would tell us to hold the water till said said when. Which was hours, if you didn't hold it she would scrub you with steel wool brushes. They make you wear nothing but a diaper till she said punishment was over. One girls had that punishment for 2 months straight.
Mrs. Anderson would repeat the steel wool baths every night to keep Mr. Anderson from touching. He didn't like the scratches and cuts the wool made on the skin. I was the youngest there at the time so most the girls tried their best to keep their attention away from me. It worked neither Mr. Or Mrs. Anderson never touched me.
The other thing was men often came to the house. We would be lined in front them. The older girl's in just the underwear the younger ones in almost see through babydoll dresses. They would touch and stare. Most the time one or two girls left with the men. When a social worker came to check in Mr. Anderson and Mrs. Anderson would say they ran away. Which was believable cause they only took girls that were runners. Noone was said anything different fear of being punished and mostly cause our trust in adults was slim to none.
Then the day came when Master came. He was the only one to come that day and he only wanted to look at the younger girls. When he saw me he checked my arms and legs. He smiled and turned to Mr. Anderson pointing to me. "This one I'm taking this one."
Mr. Anderson simply nodded and the man turned picking me up carrying me away. Last thing I saw going out that door was the girls running and screaming crying trying to get me back. I saw Mr. Anderson punch the oldest girl in the face making her fall back and screamed and flaed trying to get back to her. "SISSSYYYY!!!" I screamed and cried till the man smacked my butt. "You will be quite and obey I'm your master now and you will call me that." He sat me in his car and drove away, to a worse hell.
For the next 11 years he taught me hand, knife and gun combat. I learned how to shoot a target from 100 miles away. Different poisons and the effects. All pressure points on the body which could make a person pass out or just paralyze. Along with the parts on the body to make sure of a kill. Along with other stuff like piano and violin playing. Dancing different types like the waltz and tango. Along with some ballet. Master said to be a good assassin was to be a well rounded person in not just the killing part put the luring part.
I found out shortly after being their master was a ex assassin. He wanted some to pass on his teaching to. Truth is he got hurt and couldn't work anymore. He just wanted someone to do the work for him to get the money. He wanted someone younger cause it would be easier to mold and do what he wants. Also a young tiny girl wouldn't be thought as a assassin. The older I get the more different ways of luring I was taught. If I failed a assignment he would punish me. Whips, riding crops, blends, hot irons anything and everything he would beat me with. He was always careful to not leave scars tho. Scars would turn off a target when trying to allure them. He would always say.
When I was 18 I still had the looks of a 10 year old. A assignment came in to get rid of a alley of a new appointed mafia boss. I was to do I simply child act which was me to act like a innocent lost child. Master always got off on this it was his favourite. The act of acting like a innocent child to lure out the pedophilia attention of a target. It got master off. We were in Italy I was standing in the middle the sidewalk it was raining heavily. Master was in a middle across the street watching. The target was staring at me and stared walking towards me. All sudden a elderly woman in a heavy coat and flower head scarf came to me. She had concern written all over her face speaking fast. She wrapped me in her coat and walked me to a police station. I could do nothing but comply. Getting to the police station I gave them Master's number and he came and got me. We got back to the States he was furious. He started beating me with a blend whip wasn't caring about scars anymore. The assignment was supposed to be the biggest payday yet. Enough for me to stop working for a good while. I had got away and ran I collapsed in the woods somewhere. When I woke up I was in the orphanage. They let me stay there till I was all healed up then said I could go anywhere I wanted. I had no where to go and after being there a few months. Watching the littles run around and play I realized I could get the childhood I never had.
About 3 years later Mrs. Annabelle came to the orphanage to work. She took a liking to me and took care me. Till I came here.