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
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Harry's POV
I kept my eyes cast downwards as Niall led me into one of the holding cells.
The room was dimly lit, and the air damp and humid. I shivered, my stomach twisting in fear.
As I entered the holding cell, Niall shut the bar door behind me, locking it. "Sorry, Harry. Master's orders." He looked at me apologetically.
I nodded. "It's fine."
"He'll be here in a while." And with that, Niall left.
As each minute passed, I began to fill with dread.
I crouched down and sat on the floor, glancing around me. I had been here several times before, each time more unpleasant than the previous visit.
The only light came from an old lamp at the end of the dungeon hallway, several yards away.
I shivered again, goosebumps rising on my skin.
--
He unlocked the door, stepping inside the medium sized cell room. My head snapped up to him, pleading for forgiveness.
However, much like Newton's third law, Master Zayn was a strict believer in that every action had an equal and justified consequence.
And I was about to endure mine.
"Shoes off, and shirt off, Styles." He ordered, his voice dripping authority and power.
I immediately obeyed, kicking off my shoes and pulling the nurses' scrub shirt I was wearing over my head. Had I protested, it'll only amount to more punishment, and that was the last thing I needed.
A long chain hung from the ceiling, with handcuffs at the end of it.
"Arms up. You know the drill." He snarled.
I quickly put my arms up, and he snapped the handcuffs closed around my wrists, held above my head.
The handcuffs were high enough that it allowed me almost no space to move them as they were locked above my head. I could feel my blood starting to drain out of them, and there was already a dull ache, so I stood on my tippy toes to let my arms move a bit.
"You could have avoided all of this, you know. It's your own fault, Styles."
I dropped my head, looking downward. "I know, Sir."
"Good. Now how many whips do you think you deserve? Thirty?"
My eyes widened, shocked. "Thirty?" My voice came out hoarse, my throat dry. Never had he gone more than fifteen.
"Would you like that to be thirty-five? Or forty, perhaps?"
I immediately shook my head. "No, Sir. I'll gladly take thirty." My mouth had gone completely dry, and I tensed. I couldn't see Sir or his expressions as he stood behind me, with me facing the wall.
"Glad we could agree on that, Mr. Styles." He said mockingly. "You're going to count with me. If you miss one, we start over, understood?"
I nodded. "Yes, sir." I tensed in anticipation and sheer terror as I waited for the strike.
I heard the whip slice the air before it came into contact with my back, and I bit down onto my lip hard to keep myself from crying out. "One!" I yelled.
I could already feel my flesh rising up in a welt, when the second strike came down on my bare back again. "Two!" I bit my lip harder, until my teeth broke the delicate skin, and I could taste blood in my mouth. "Fuck." I swore under my breath. "Three!"
"Four!"
"Five!"
"Six!"
Tears welled up in my eyes, and although I physically kept counting each strike with Zayn, I zoned out, mentally detaching myself from reality as I continued to endure my punishment.
"Seventeen!"
"Eighteen!" I gasped again as the cool leather of the whip sliced at my skin.
And just like an impatient child waiting to arrive somewhere, the last minutes were the toughest. Or rather, the last strikes.
My head was spinning, and my back was completely numb as he withdrew his whip.
Swoosh. A new sting was placed on top the others, and I faltered as I cried out in pain. "Twenty-s-s-seve-e-n"
"What was that?" He demanded. "Do you want me to start over?"
I shook my head violently, and yelled. "Twenty-seven!"
Again he struck. "Twenty-eight!"
"Twenty-nine!"
I tensed once more for the last whip, but it never came. I heard his footsteps, and I held my breath as I waited for the end of my punishment.
"I want you to tell me exactly why you were punished."
Sweat dripped off my forehead, and I licked my lip, the blood not completely stopped from biting down on it. I swallowed painfully, grimacing in pain. My back throbbed, my arms aching to be released. "I disobeyed you."
"How so?" He questioned.
"I spent time with Abby after you left, behind your back, after you clearly told me to stay away from her." My voice cracked, my mouth extremely dry. I needed water, and I needed my back to stop throbbing in gruesome pain.
"That's correct. And do you plan on doing it again?"
"No, sir."
And suddenly, out of no where, the whip cracked through the air, and I felt a piercing pain on my shoulder blade as it stuck me for the last time.
"And that finishes the thirty, Mr. Styles. Disobey me once more, and we'll make this sixty, instead. Understood?
"Yes, sir." There were black spots in my vision, and the world around me began to spin once more.
I heard footsteps as he walked out of the cell and away, leaving me alone in the dim light, sweating and aching all over.
--
About an hour or so later - I had lost count of time as I struggled to endure the pain - I heard footsteps, and quickly turned my head around to see who it was.
"I'm here to release you, and get you sent up to the hospital to clean and tend to your wounds." Niall approached the cell door, unlocking it and entering.
"How are you feeling?" He asked warily as he unlocked the handcuffs.
I quickly pulled my arms down, rubbing the wrists where the metal had marked them as I struggled against the handcuffs while recieving my punishment. I finally turned to him, wiping the sweat off my forehead. "Like shit."
I wiped the blood from my lip, and quickly grabbed my shoes and shirt.
"Come." Niall motioned, and I followed after him.
As much as I probably should hate Niall, I didn't. It wasn't his fault he did all of this. Just like the rest of us, he had orders to follow, and he, unlike me, actually stuck by the rules.
My back burned, and I couldn't wait to get to the hospital wing to get something to relieve the excruciating pain I was in.
--
I hissed in pain as Liam pressed a gauze to my back, stopping the bleeding.
"Sorry." He apologized. "I have to stop the bleeding, and then disinfect these wounds."
I was laying down on my stomach in one of the hospital rooms on a patient's table, grimacing in pain and biting down on my lip again, causing it to bleed once more.
"Harry, stop biting that lip! It's already swollen!" Liam scolded, then pressed a clean gauze to my once again bleeding lip.
I groaned. "Just get me some morphine." I pleaded. This kind of physical pain was demanding, calling for my attention, distracting me from forming coherent thoughts. And as much as I tried to block out the pain, I couldn't. However, the morphine could.
"I have to clean the wounds first!" Liam reasoned, but I wasn't in the mood.
"Just get the fucking morphine, Liam, or so help me, I'll get up and get it myself!" I yelled.
He paused, hesitating. "Alright. In the meanwhile, relax, alright? I'll go get it and set up the IV."
I closed my eyes, relieved. "Thank you."
As he stepped out of the door, I heard him gasp.
My ears perked up, listening to the hushed conversation behind the door as I layed.
"Harry?" Liam said. "He's not here right now."
"But I want to see him! Where is he?"
Was that....Abby?
"No, he's busy right now." Liam said convincingly.
I heard a thump, and then Abby hissed. "I don't care! I need to tell him something!"
"No, go back to work, Abigail. He doesn't want to see you right now."
I bit my lip again as I listened, silence engulfing the room as they both stopped talking.
Finally, I heard an exasperated sigh. "Fine." Abby said, resigned. "Tell him I came by?"
Liam's voice came softer this time. "I'll let him know."
"Thank you."
And then I heard footsteps walk away, and I knew that Liam and Abby had left.
I closed my eyes, grimacing once more. My back felt like it was on fire, and the flesh throbbed. I let out a deep breath, trying to block out the pain once more.
I heard the door open, but I kept my eyes closed. "Thank you, Liam."
And then I heared a high pitched scream, one that couldn't ever come from Liam.
Abby.
--
Author's Note
Much apologies for the delay in updating. Between exam, work, and the holidays approaching I had forgotten that a week has passed since I last updated. I will be posting the chapters for last Thursday and Tuesday, as well as tomorrow's chapter in the next few minutes.
Take care, and until next time.
IS