Bluebell

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Master slapped Bluebell a bit too hard today. She deserved it, of course—my master is never wrong—but it was a bit hard. For hours, she wept, and the other girls and I couldn't look into her ultramarine eyes then, especially not in the black-and-blue one.

Bluebell's crying finally ceased a couple minutes ago, and it's just in time since Master desires us. The other girls—Lilac, Anemone, and Lotus—are circled around her. They all frown or scowl, their arms rigid at their sides. They have never understood Master. If they did, they would appreciate his punishment and the lesson that comes with it. Bluebell will handle his laundry with more care now.

I stride up to Bluebell, the girls parting to allow me to pass, and hand her a simplistic, pink masquerade mask to cover her swollen eye. She doesn't speak, but she takes it from me and wears it. It looks really lovely with her light pink ballerina outfit. She was a dancer before Master bought her, and he mercifully allowed her to keep her outfit. He even gives her permission to dance for him once in a while.

The girls surround me, waiting for Master's orders. He granted me the role of messenger, so they anticipate what's coming.

"Master would like us," I say to everyone, motioning us to our room's door.

With me in the lead, the slumped girls and I head out the door into the shining marble halls. I cleaned them myself to see my master smile, though I'm not required to clean anything. My master's warm grin makes everything I do worth it.

As I stroll through Master's shimmering halls, I notice the girls chat behind me, huddled together as if they don't wish for me to hear. I dislike hearing their chatter, but we must stand in a line. We are so close to Master!

I turn around, and the girls stop. Lilac taps her foot impatiently—a quirk of hers I hate, and she needs the habit to end before she does this to Master. Bluebell wears the ugliest glower I've ever seen, and if she continues to keep it, I will need to place stitches in the corners of her lips to make her appear presentable for Master. Anemone and Lotus are the only clever girls, both standing straight and smiling. Fear glimmers in their eyes, but Master likes fear in these two.

"We must stay in a line, girls," I grin, my hands behind my back and rubbing together. My nails start to dig into my wrists, but I stop immediately. Master would hate to see my skin torn apart, though he knows the feeling relaxes me.

I ignore the urge to rip and say, "Lilac, we must get you out of this tapping habit, lest you wish to anger Master. I would rather if you remain pristine... And Bluebell, smile. A filthy frown will get you a thrashing."

The girls, because of their learned tendencies, do as I tell, and I turn back around, listening to them more attentively. I cannot allow secrecy in Master's flower garden: his garden of women, where no one may grow without his tending.

They don't speak any longer. Wonderful.

Soon, we reach the door to the dining room, and I knock loud enough for Master to hear, but not so loud his eardrum become irritated. My master's deep "Enter" tickles my insides with glee. After checking back on the girls to make sure all are prim and proper, I enter the door and walk to Master.

Master is the most handsome man to walk this earth. I have not seen any other man, and yet I am so certain of this fact. His skin is white and pure like his short ponytail and eyelashes. And his crystalline eyes are a beauteous, pale blue hue. He exercises regularly, keeping his form perfect. When I'm with him alone, I see more of his perfection than any other girl, and it's a sight so powerful it blinds me, then it heals my sight with its magical influence and forces me to stay gazing.

Today, Master is shirtless since Bluebell failed the simple task of folding. It's a shame she failed. My eyes disagree with my thoughts, however.

As I gaze at him, Master reaches out to me and passionately says, "Honeysuckle, come here."

Brimming with joy and shaking in excitement, I walk closer to my master and move with his gestures, sitting upon his lap. He scoots back from the mahogany dining table to give me more space, then scoops up my chin. His soft lips caress my cheek. One of his hands lies on my thigh, and the other combs back a lock of my blonde hair. He then kisses me. My cheeks brighten to a lively pink.

"I have brought the girls as you requested, Master," I say, and he pats me on the head.

"You can call me by name, Honey." His smooth voice soothes me.

I shake my head. "I prefer Master."

He laughs and kisses me again, and again, I blush. Then he glances over at the girls, glaring at them and scowling. He motions me off his lap, so I do as he wishes and stand to his side, still grinning to please him. The girls quiver.

"Bluebell, step forward," he commands, standing powerfully. His razor-sharp stare slices through the confidence of the girls.

Bluebell stumbles forward, and she slumps over, appearing to be a loose marionette. Master strides to her, then removes the masquerade mask to observe her black eye. He jabs it, and she winces, recoiling back in line with the others. She doesn't dare to speak.

Master smirks. "What have you learned from this, Bluebell?" he asks, stepping closer to her and pulling her forward by her midnight hair as she resists. He yanks her to him. His eyes are inches from hers.

"Nothing," she growls. "You are not my master. The only one who sees you as the god you wish to be is that traitor to her kind." She points to me, her teeth digging into her chapped lips.

I glower, and Master slaps Bluebell to the ground. The other girls surround her as my master comes back to me, attempting to hide his rage behind his delicate hand.

But suddenly, Bluebell stands, and I see a metallic glint in her hand. Then the girls charge Master.

As he begins to turn around, I panic and tackle him to the floor, rolling and hopping to my feet. When I'm up, I trip Lilac, who led the charge, and stomp her skull. It cracks, she groans, and I turn to Anemone and Lotus, the two silent girls.

Anemone tries to punch me, but I grab her arm and dislodge it. She crumples to the ground. Lotus screams and stumbles back, holding her arms up to surrender. I kick her flatly in the gut. She tumbles above Anemone.

I jump onto the two repetitively until they die, then I look over to Master. Bluebell has reached him.

She swings a kitchen knife she has in her possession at Master's throat. I scream in torment, dreading the worst. But my master is better than that.

He easily evades the attack, takes her wrist, and squeezes until she releases. Then he sweeps his leg under hers, and she collapses on her back. Master kneels down to her. He takes the knife, piercing her throat slowly. I watch paralyzed as he takes his time draining her precious crimson, not a speck staining his pearly skin. She dies during the bloodletting, but I don't know the specific time of death since he works the knife lovingly long after she dies.

When his cravings leave him, Master returns to the dining table and pours himself a glass of wine. "Honey, over here," he says, and I go to his lap. I drink some of the wine with him.

"Are you mad, Master?" I ask, clinging onto him. He kisses my forehead.

"No," he replies. "You know I'm never mad when they rebel. I will buy some more girls. They can be replaced unlike you. Their only purpose is paling in comparison to your beauty."

I frown. "Bluebell was more beautiful than me, though. Her body was flawless," I claim.

Master grimaces at the thought. He motions me off, then we walk over to Bluebell's mutilated corpse. He removes her ballerina outfit, staring from the top.

I don't understand how I can be more beautiful. Her hair is a deep, majestic black. Her skin is fair. She has plump, firm breasts and not a single ugly birthmark.

When Master reaches her socks, he groans in disgust, then he removes them. Her feet are mangled from her years of dancing.

An elated smile forms on my face, and I hug onto Master, kissing his cheek. He leans his abdomen closer to mine.

"See? You're much more beautiful, Honey."

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