Disclaimer: This was written over 10 years ago, and the author no longer agrees with many of the concepts found in this story. Some of the content will be cringey and/or problematic. Please remember this is entirely fictional and does not represent the author's beliefs.
Twitter: dazzleizzy
Copyright © 2012-2022
I made my way to the huge closet, drying myself off quickly. Searching for something decent to wear was a whole other challenge. Most of everything was skimpy and provocative which made me extremely curious. I finally came across a cami and some casual shorts and I slipped them on.
Where there others here? Was I the only one here? From what it seemed like, I was just another addition to Zayn's slaves. Niall was one, definitely.
I heard the door of my room being opened, so I emerged from my closet. "Niall?"
He looked frustrated and exhausted. "Zayn ordered me to bring you food here. You will not be eating with the rest of us tonight." He handed me a tray of food roughly, and I held it.
"Why? Did I do something wrong?" My voice trembled. Had I upset Zayn? More importantly, why did I even care that I had upset him?
He shrugged. "Not your business." Turning around, he shut the door, locking it behind him.
I looked down at my tray of food. There was a good amount of spaghetti, a slice of garlic bread, a small salad and a water bottle.
Setting it down on the floor, I sat down and leaned against the wall, scarfing down my food quickly. Even though I was upset, I was starving - not having had a decent meal in over a week.
As I slowly brought the last crumbs of the garlic bread to my mouth, the door of my room unlocked, and in walked Zayn.
"Finished?" He asked, glancing down at my empty tray.
I nodded.
"Abigail." He said firmly.
"I mean, yes, Sir."
"I'm going to show you around the mansion right now. I'm only going to explain the rules once. You best take note of all of them, if you don't want to be punished, is that understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
"There are others that I own - just like you. It will also do you good to get along with them as much as possible. Do I make myself clear?" He demanded.
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Follow me, Abigail, and bring your tray."
I quickly snatched up the tray and followed after him.
Leading us through the long corridor of closed doors, Zayn began to show me around. "This is the slave quarters' wing. Everyone stays here. Everyone follows a strict schedule - and you shall too. You will be up at six each morning, and you will be assigned a chore by one of my two older slaves, Niall or Louis. Everything they say goes unless I say otherwise. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
We walked past a huge room filled with cozy-looking couches and a TV and some other things were. A few girls around my age that sat on the couch facing the TV looked up at me curiously. "This is the slave "chill out" room. You can come here when you're permitted."
A stunningly beautiful blonde walked up to us, quickly glimpsing at me before giving her full attention to Zayn.
"Zayn, sir, may I be with you tonight?" She asked seductively, bringing her lips dangerously close to Zayn's. "I really want you."
She pressed her lips to his slowly, and after a short kiss, Zayn pulled away. "Not now, Perrie. You're off for the night. Go enjoy yourself." He said dismissively, and she frowned. "Okay." She turned around and hooped back onto the couch, continuing to watch TV as if we hadn't interrupted.
He continued walking, and I followed after him closely. We turned into a large dining hall, and Zayn stopped walking. "Breakfast will be served at 6:30am sharp. After you wake up, you must shower and dress for the day. If you are even a minute late, the doors of the dining hall will be locked, and you won't be served. Lunch is at twelve and dinner at six-thirty pm."
He lead me into an elevator, and we went down one level.
Stepping out of the elevator as the doors opened, I realized the environment was completely different here.
There was a large kitchen, and a few girls were busy at work. "This is where you will be when you get kitchen duty." "Kitty!" He called out suddenly.
A red haired girl looked up from where she was washing the dishes. She had yellow latex gloves on, and a blue apron, and her hair was tied back. "Yes, sir?"
"Come take Abigail's tray."
Kitty walked over to me, giving me a friendly smile. "You're new here. Nice to meet you. Maybe we'll get some free hours together!" She said enthusiastically, taking the tray from my hand. I nodded at her, smiling. "Yeah."
She quickly said goodbye, and hurried off to finish her work.
Zayn continued walking, and lead me to a large room with washing machines "Laundry duty." He explained.
He lead us back to the elevator, and we went down another level. If I thought the atmosphere in the kitchen was different, this level was a whole other universe.
Dark, clammy, and cool, goosebumps raised on my skin. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dark. I could make out the cement brick walls, with a few holding cells. I shivered.
"This is where you'll be sent if you ever disobey me. Take my word for it, Abigail, it is not pleasant. I would prefer that you obey me at all times - but the choice is entirely yours. It's not fun being locked up down here for a few days." He said calmly, dark humor in his eyes.
I gulped. "Yes, sir."
"Let's go back up."
As the elevator took us back up to the main floor, he continued talking. "However, when I spend time with you, you will be excused from your duties. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir. Sir, where do you stay?"
He smirked at me. "The floor above this is entirely mine. No one is allowed upstairs unless they have direct approval from me. And at ten pm, you will be locked into your room. Anyways, let's head back to your room."
I followed after him, and he opened the door, letting me in and following after me.
"Now, I'm going to show what you need to wear for certain things." He leads me into the closet.
"This section," he said, motioning over to the far right corner of the large closet, "is for casual wear. Whenever you have free hours, no chores, or just relaxing in your room."
He pointed to another section on the right. "This is for formal wear. If any time one of my clients is over or I take you on a business trip, this is what you'll choose from."
He motioned to the last section on the right. "These are for work - when you are on duty."
And then, he turned to the left side of the closet.
"When I spend time with you, you can choose anything from here to wear. Clear?"
I looked at the long row of hanging lingerie, blushing. "Yes, sir."
He smiled, pleased. "See, it's not so hard to do what I say, right? Keep it up like this and we'll get along swimmingly."
He looked down at his watch. "I'll be back here in an hour to spend time with you. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir." I nodded.
"Good. Until then, Abigail." He pressed a quick peck to my cheek and walked out of my room, locking the door behind him.
I stood there, still a little dazed by the peck.
Then I made my way back to the closet in search for something to wear when Zayn came.
As I searched through the rack of skimpy clothing, I noticed that every piece of lingerie was French. Silky, beautiful, expensive French lingerie.
I carefully selected a lacey black set to put on. It was definitely more modest than the rest, covering up more skin - and for that, I was grateful.
I untied my hair, letting my long brown curls pass my shoulders freely. I ran my fingers through it, admiring how soft the shampoo Zayn used had made my hair.
I was exhausted and sleepy, with still about forty-five minutes to spare.
Maybe I could rest quickly? Before Zayn came?
I hopped on to the comfortable bed. It was cozy and inviting, so I pulled the covers over myself and closed my eyes.
A few minutes later, I drifted off into a light slumber.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
Welcome back to chapter three.
I hope your Monday has been better than mine.
This last month has not been kind to me but I'm just trying to take things day by day (no rain, no flowers, right? 🥲🥲)
My question for this chapter -- are you a crunchy peanut butter 🥜 baddie or a creamy peanut butter 🥜 hottie? And do you prefer orange juice 🍊 pulpy or no pulp?
I'm trying to figure out if there's an association between the two and if there are clear differences between texture people and non-texture people, just for funsies.
Until Thursday, take care. 🫶🏻♥️
IS