I wake up to the sound of a siren. Is the police here?! Thank God, they can come rescue me from this terribly twisted place.
But I won't go home. I'll go out of the country, maybe travel to Brazil with Sonya, anything but be with Zayn or my parents. I am 18 after all, I am legally allowed to make my own decisions and if I'm really being saved by the police, I refuse to lose my innocence to a man that doesn't care for me. I refuse to be cut or bled or tied. And I refuse to be anyone's sex slave
"Rise and shine, bitch," Scarlette's voice screeches. She blows a sharp whistle that pierces through my ear. I rub my eyes and sink lower under the covers, pulling them over my chest. The nightmare is real. I am still stuck in this whorehouse. And Scarlette is here to do God knows what.
I look down at myself and notice that the cut on my hand has been bandaged, as well as the one on my back.
"Girls!" Scarlette screams. Her voice is too screechy and high pitched to be anything but annoying. I reach over and put my glasses on, grateful that Harry returned them to me. Despite the fact that he nearly made me choke on a strange liquid last night, it was nice of him to give my glasses back.
Switfly, the cloaked women from last night march into my room in a single file line and surround my bed. I push them away, but they yank me up and place my cloak over me. It smells fresh. The dried blood stains on the cloak has been washed off. I press my hand to my back. The mark Harry gave me on my back has also been dried up and cleaned.
"How long was I asleep?" I ask. I feel as though I've been under some sort of a trance for days on end. And considering there isn't any light in this room, I'm even more confused as to what time it is.
"About 3 hours. It's dawn. You don't wanna be late for Day 1 of training do you?" Scarlette snickers. I stare at her. My head still feels strangely heavy and my body is still numb from whatever drink they gave me last night.
Scarlette glances down at the white bedsheets.
"He didn't fuck you, did he?" she asks. I look down, embarrassed. How can she say those words so plainly?
I shake my head "no."
Scarlette laughs hard. I scrunch my nose in annoyance. Harry was supposed to take my innocence last night, but he chose not to. I'm not sure if it's because he feels sorry for me, or because he isn't attracted to me...But at The Ball and last night and every time I've spoken with Harry, he has flirted with me, made it clear that he wanted me-- at least sexually.
"I want to do dirty things to you...Mark you with my bandanna... my tongue...my hands..."
If that's the case, why did he call me an idiot for signing the contract?
The more I think about Harry, the worse my head ache becomes. Scarlette claps her hand and the cloaked girls lift me up. They place me on a gurney of sorts of and wheel me off to another room. I scream loudly, terrified as to what they will do to me.
Scarlette covers my mouth with a piece of tape. I stop screaming, knowing it is useless. If anything, my screaming seems to make Scarlette smile brighter, as though it brings her joy to see me in pain.
The girls wheel me over to a cold, bleak room. It is significantly more chilly than the rest of The House. And, like the other rooms, this room has a tiny window that's just big enough to let a sliver or fresh air and light in.
I lean up and see V standing with her arms crossed. She smiles as though I have accomplished something by surviving the first night.
I bit down on my lip. She thinks I've lost my virginity to Harry. She thinks I'm prepared for the training and what not. But I'm not. Harry spared me. Where is Harry, anyway?
Slowly, I scan the room, but it is unbearably dark. Scarlette presses a light switch and the whole room is illuminated. I squint in the blinding light. It's such a contrast from the rest of the building that it hurts my eyes. I adjust my glasses.
Scarlette walks over and whispers into V's ear. V's smile disappears and she clasps her hands together.
"Harry failed to take your innocence?" she both asks and states. I stare at her before nodding.
V's lips curl into a fake smile. "Interesting. I understand he used to head his cult with Niall and Liam and he did as he pleased, but he and I have a made a deal and he is supposed to follow my orders now," she tells me stiffly. I take a deep breath. So that's how these two groups came to be? When Harry and the boys came down to The States, they made a deal with V. But why?
V watches my face and I take quick, nervous breaths. I can see why she is the headmaster; she knows how to command respect while maintaining her composure.
"Harry should be punished," Scarlette speaks up. There's a glint in her dark green eyes. V shakes her head.
"No, I will speak to him later. Right now, we need to cleanse this girl and assign her a new identity," she raises a hand and touches my shoulder. Her fingers are cold but smooth, like porcelain.
"How will you assign my new identity?" I ask carefully, but V merely smiles.
"You ask too many questions, honey," she comments and snaps her fingers. The cloaked girls wheel me to the far side of the room and ease me into an empty glass tube. Scarlette brings over a few paint brushes and a small marble bowl. She dips her brush into the bowl and a dark red color coats the bristle hairs. It's blood.
"Whose blood is that?"
"Yours," Scarlette answers.
"What?!"
Scarlette smirks. Her dark green eyes glint. "It's from your initiation, remember?...and I may have taken more while you were asleep,"she admits as she holds up a needle.
I look down at my palm. There's no way I could forget the experience of being cut and tied down by strangers.
Scarlette brings the brush to my chest and draws a line downward, between my breasts. I stare at her.
"What are you--"
"Shut up."
The cloaked girls shyly cut their own palms and dip the brush into their hands. They paint lines all over my body, on my tummy, my legs, over my knobby knees. I sit there, staring at them. They begin pulling down at my bra and panties and I push away, but there's too many of them. They begin rubbing their blood all over my body, my breasts, my abdomen, my legs. Scarlette is the only girl that's reluctant to touch me.
"Cult above everything, above family," V recites. I look up at her and she nods at my body. "In order to truly become an Omega girl, you must forget your old life and live with your fellow girls, accept them the way they will accept you."
I stay quiet, unsure what to say. The girls finish painting strange marks on my body. One girl yanks at a chord and cold water spurts all over me. I gasp loudly and wrap my arms around myself, but the girls grab my ankles and wrists, urging me to stay still.
My bra and panties are completely soaked. V calmly orders the girls to fill the tub until my whole body is submerged in the water, except my head. V adds various bath salts into the water and I feel my pores tingling. The salts feel soothing on my skin, but I'm still nervous as to how V will give me a new identity.
The girls help me out of the water. V closes her eyes and places her hand on my back, where Harry had cut me.
Scarlette tears at my bra and panties.
"Hey!" I protest.
"What surgeries will we perform, V?" Scarlette asks as she gazes down at my and scrunches her nose. I may not be the most confident girl in world, but I am content with my body. It was my mother who was always criticizing me to be perfect when she was far from it herself. My mom...I hope she rots in Hell.
V shakes her head and neatly pats one of her loose blonde hairs back.
"None. She's beautiful the way she is," V answers. She pats my shoulder. I give her a weak smile. Scarlette rolls her eyes and points at my breasts. I cover them with my hands.
"She could use 600 cc's in her tits," Scarlette says. V shakes her head again.
"No. If she gets surgery, she won't be able to participate in the training for at least two or three weeks. And she honestly doesn't need to be a double D, Scar. She's perfectly fine the way she is," V holds her ground. Scarlette rubs her neck awkwardly. I stay quiet, grateful that V won't perform any surgeries.
"Her identity doesn't need to change, it needs to be revealed. Her true identity has been hidden inside her for years, begging to be released..." V murmurs almost to herself. Her grey eyes meet mine.
"Closet slut," Scarlette snickers. V ignores her and smiles at me.
"Kitty Kat," she says.
How does she know my nick name? V takes my glasses slowly. And as my vision begins to blurr, I feel as though I'm losing an important part of me, my glasses, my awkward, Catholic school girl days. V gives me contacts and shows me how to put them in.
"You're innocent and sweet and curious, it fits you perfectly," V tells me. I blink numerous times, amazed at how clear everything looks now.
"So is that my name now? I won't ever be called Katarina again?" I ask quietly. It's not that I'm going to miss my name, but I'm trying to understand this whole 'new identity' concept.
V nods. The girls help me out of the water and lay me back on the gurney. The cloaked girls begin drying me off and brushing out my hair. Scarlette applies heavy, dark make up to my face.
"Hold still," she complains.
"I don't want to wear so much eye shadow," I shake my head. Scarlette scolds me and the silent cloaked girls hold me down. Scarlette leans forward and paints my face as though I am a canvas. I look up at the cloaked girls and one of them sighs loudly. I can vaguely see the shape of her face. Her eyes are dark and heavily lined. Her chin is small and pointed but her face has a round shape.
"What's your name?" I ask, but the girl looks down immediately. Ok...
"You will be formally introduced to all your fellow Omega girls once you're finished here," she tells me.
"She's not an Omega girl, yet. She has to pass the first three levels of training," Scarlette speaks up. Why is so always so rude to me? Since the moment Harry initiated me, Scarlette has been giving me death stares.
V shrugs and walks away, standing from afar and watching Scarlette transform my face. When she finishes, I turn to look in the mirror, but she stops me.
"Not yet," she shakes her head and I roll my eyes. Scarlette pulls at my bra and panties and I shout at her, but she ignores me. She and the other girls replace my undergarments with new ones, transparent lace ones. My new white bra actually cups my breasts nicely and gives them a good push up. The panties have a small white puff ball on the back, as though I am literally a kitten.
Scarlette pulls at a cloth covering a tall rectangular box. The cloth falls, revealing a mirror. I gasp loudly when I see my reflection. I look like the girls on the cover of lingerie magazines.
"I-I can't wear this. It's lingerie. You wear lingerie on your wedding night—" I shake my head quickly. I feel so naked in these skimpy undergarments. V suppresses a laugh.
"This is your new identity, Kitty Kat. The shy, Catholic school girl you were yesterday is a thing of the past. Now you are a sexy Omega girl-to-be. You have to learn to be comfortable in your own skin, honey," V tells me, rubbing gently at my shoulder. 'Sexy' doesn't describe. Maybe 'pretty' or 'decent,' but not 'sexy.'
I take a deep breath. I guess V is partly right; I do need to be more comfortable with my body, but being comfortable doesn't mean I should be practically naked.
V helps me off the gurney and places my cloak over my shoulders.
"It's time to assign you to your master," she says. A cold chill slithers down my spine while my heart climbs up to my throat.
V snaps her fingers and like magic, the cloak girls walk before me, in a single file line led by V. I'm the last in line and my white cloak stands a great contrast to the other girls' black ones. Why did they give me a white one?
The hallway is pitch black, but when V enters a large room, I sense something familiar about it. When I spot three tall figures in the room, I take a deep breath. The boys are here, in the room I was iniatiated in. And one of them will be my master.
Scarlette lights the gauntlets around the room. The orange flames rise up and immediately illuminate our path toward Harry, Liam, and Niall. I clasp my hands together.
There is a small fire in a pit in the middle of the large room. Thanks to the light from the gauntlets, I can see more of the room and it's much larger than I imagined. The cloaked girls stand circle around the pit once, twice, how many times? The girls whisper an incantation under their breath as they move around. I follow along and watch Harry's face for information. What is this? Some kind of ritual?
The girls stare down at the fir and stand still. I rub my head, slightly dizzy from circling around. V calls the girls names one by one and they toss their cloaks into the fire. I cross my legs. There's no way I'm going to take mine off.
I listen closely as one of the girls' name is called, the shy brunette who was too scared to tell me her name.
"Lola," V calls. The shy girl scurries forward, tosses her cloak and walks to V. She's very petite and frail, but her breasts are extremely large. She doesn't seem like the kind of girl who would actively want to be a part of this institution, but who am I to judge?
Lola curtsies before Liam. He smirks, wrapping his arm around her waist. I take a deep breath as I realize the girls have already passed the first level of training so the can choose whoever they want to be their master. I'm the only one who will be assigned to one of the men.
Four girls have gone so far, but none have chosen Harry. It's not like he's less attractive than the other boys. But maybe he's crueler. Maybe he is much rougher than the other boys and the omega girls are scared.
Harry holds his hands behind him and the cotton fibers of his shirt stretch slightly over his shoulder and chest muscles. He stares at mouth and swipes his tongue over his lower lips before biting it. But he doesn't wink or smirk. He merely stares at my face.
"Kitty Kat," V calls. I walk forward slowly. V waits for me to take my cloak off, but I don't. Scarlette rolls her eyes and yanks it off me.
I cross my legs and wrap my arms over my chest immediately. Liam whistles loudly, which annoys the three girls that chose him. Niall doesn't look at first, but every few seconds, he keeps darting glances at me. I look down, embarrassed.
V glances from me to the boys and bites on her cranberry red lips.
"Your master will be Harry."
"What?"
Harry stares at me. He grits his jaw and doubles his fists before leaving the room briskly. He walks right past me, brushing his shoulder harshly against mine. Ouch.
Scarlette laughs loudly, but V scolds her.
"Go to his chamber," V tells me.
"He doesn't want me..." I stutter, completely embarrassed. I'm nearly naked and I was just assigned 'a master', but he left me immediately.
Awkwardly, I follow after Harry, cursing him under my breath. He's a major part of the reason I'm even in this place. True, I'm away from my lying parents and boyfriend because of him, but now I'm some slut-in-training and my damned master won't even look at me.
I hear a door slam shut and realize it must be Harry. I walk into the room and recognize it as The Chamber from last night.
Harry turns and glares at me. His dark, wild hair falls over his eyes and forehead, covering a bit of his vibrant green eyes. There's a wild look in those eyes. I swallow hard.
Harry stares at my face.
"What the fuck are you doing in here?" he demands. My hand shakes.
"I-I was told to come after you," I explain, wrapping my arms around my chest.
"Well fuck off!" he shouts. I walk closer to him.
"You have no right to talk to me like that!" I raise my voice. I didn't agree to stay in this place to be humiliated, I stayed to bide myself time to escape instead of being killed.
Harry steps closer to me. His large hands are fisted into tight balls. He-he won't hit me...will he?
"WHY DON'T YOU GO HOME TO YOUR RICH BOYFRIEND, KAT!" He yells loudly in his deep bravado. I tremble slightly, but hold my ground. Harry takes a deep breath and loosens his fists. "Wait, Kat, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," he apologizes, but I turn away.
He grips my wrist and spins me around. I step closer to him, pointing my finger at his chest.
"You want me to go to Zayn? You want me to go back to the man that has been screwing my mother for years? You want me to go back to the woman who has been criticizing me and judging me for the past 18 years? And my amazing dad who had another child with some other woman?! I don't mean to intrude on this lovely whorehouse, but I don't have a home to go back to," I shout.
Harry is quiet. He searches my eyes as though I might forgive him. I stare him down and he takes a deep breath. His silver earring catches in the slight light.
"Look," I sigh. "I know I'm not a really flirty super model with huge boobs and a teeny waist and blonde hair and you probably don't want to be with me at all, but--"
Harry's round eyes grow even wider as he stares at me. I open my mouth to try to respond, but Harry pins me to the wall and cups my face in his hands.
"If I wasn't interested in you, I wouldn't have waited for you outside your dance class. I wouldn't have bought a tux and danced for you. I wouldn't have kissed your neck at the balcony and left when I actually wanted to--" Harry's voice rises, but he stops himself. He licks his lower lip and his cheeks grow a little red.
"What did you want to do?" I ask and my voice sounds heavy, like I'm anticipating something.
Harry rubs my cheek with the pad of his thumb. Then his eyes lock on mine. He presses his dark, moist lips to mine and swipes his tongue over my lower lip, urging to go deeper. Without a thought, I allow him and he deepens our urgent kiss. He presses his body against mine. His defined chest meshes against my soft breasts and a warm sensation bubbles deep in my belly.
One of Harry's strong hands slides down from my cheek and trails along my bare back, following the curve of my body, to my waist. He presses his finger across the lace of my panties and smirks as he feels the puff ball. He gives my bum a light squeeze and I feel his body stiffen against my vee. The warmth growing between my legs escalates as Harry's breath weaves in and around my neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Bravely, I reach up and coil my arms around his neck, toying with a few strands of his disheveled hair. I push the hair back, wanting to see more of his face, but he bites my lower lip. I moan into his mouth and he presses his body against me more harshly, eager to release his primal urges.
His bulge hardens even more and a fluttering sensation overwhelms my chest. Both of Harry's hands lower to my hips and he rubs the skin, teasing the lace of my panties. His finger loops around the lace and he tugs upward, making the thong ride up higher in my bum. I gasp.
"Fuck," Harry growls. His breath is deep and slow and his voice has a heavy rasp. He holds my hips for a moment and his lips trail down my neck, until he reaches my ear.
"I want to touch you, but only if you are ready," he whispers heavily. My chest tightens. Harry kisses down my neck softly, biting lightly every so often.
I admire that he's so careful about having my permission. But considering I am the newest girl in a whorehouse, 'being touched' is a nice way of saying being fucked senseless and he's going to touch me one of these days...Should I let it him?
I take slow breaths as I look up at Harry gazing at me intently, eagerly. I look into his eyes despite the dark room as he lets his lips trail down my chest, following the curve of my bra. He darts his tongue outward, flicking it around the lace material over my nipples. I suck in a breath as my nipples harden. Harry stiffens even more and I look down at his pants. If I let him have me now, I'll get it over with. Signing that contract meant giving myself to my master and if Harry is my master, then I'll eventually have to agree to his advances.
Harry rubs my hip and slides his hand over my thigh. He slides his hand between my legs and massages me. I close my eyes as the warmth in my abdomen heightens and I feel moisture dampening my panties.
"Yes," I speak up.
My voice sounds breathy, but it's because I'm nervous...nervous and eager. I'm glad I didn't give myself to Zayn. I felt something for him, but Harry is different. There's a sort of gentleman style about him, about the way he never pressured or forced me to do anything, unlike Zayn.
Even if Harry doesn't force me to do anything, he has no doesn't care about me. He'll never love me. He just wants sexual satisfaction. Nothing more. Nothing less. As dirty as it makes me feel to be someone's sexual toy, I have no other choice.
Harry lifts me up and carries me. He sits me down on a chair and ties my hands and ankles down. Carefully, he grips my hair and slides to the side and bends down. His breath is erotically slow and heavy in my ear and I feel the pressure between my legs, the urgency.
"I'm going to make you come," he tells me. The simple words make my chest tighten. Harry stands behind me and blind folds me with none other than his bandanna. He kneels down behind me and slides his fingers up my thighs, squeezing gently. His fingers toy with my panties and he pulls them down.