Black Iris

Deserve it.

Trigger Warning
Chapter contains gaslighting and emotional abuse.

Iris

At the end of that first night of torture, Blake tied me down to the playroom's bed, my arms and legs tied to the four posters of the bed. Then, he left me there, for hours. All night, still covered in blood, sweat and grime, while my body ached and my mind and position kept me awake. It wasn't until sunrise that Blake finally returned. He didn't untie me straight away though. He merely smirked, and trailed a hand over my bare skin.

"Sleep well, my Iris?

I didn't answer.

After a long moment, he let out a sigh and stroked my hair. I leaned into his touch, grateful for the gentle reprieve.

"Alright then, pet," he said, his voice softer. "Let's get you cleaned up."

And with that, he untied my wrists and ankles and gently helped me to my feet. My body was weak and aching, and I whimpered and almost collapsed, my legs giving out. Thankfully, Blake caught me, holding me up.

"Shhh, it's okay," he whispered, "I've got you."

And an unexplainable warmth flooded my chest, followed almost instantly by guilt. How could I let myself be comforted by him, the very man that had caused my hurt?

He seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil, helping me across to the ensuite and gently setting me down on a stone bench beside the door. Blake had always been one for opulence, and his apartment was no different. Smooth marble floors, gold-plated furniture, velvet couches, expensive abstract art. Basically, everywhere you looked screamed money. It wasn't as though Blake wanted to remind you. He was quite comfortable without having to parade his wealth in front of you. No, he just liked the power. Expensive things reminded himself of how much power he held.

He brushed a finger across my cheek then gave me a kiss on the head, before drawing away to run a bath in the black claw-footed tub. He waited a moment as the water started running to check the temperature, then returned to me, gently stroking my hair once again.

"Does my pet want some scents in the bath? Rose, perhaps?"

I simply nodded, unable to speak. He turned and drew a bottle from the cabinets beside the tub, poured a capful of liquid into the water, then returned it to the cabinet. Instantly, the room filled with the scent of flowers. I tried not to think about why he might have rose scented soaps in the ensuite to his sex dungeon. In truth, I knew the answer.

After a few more moments, Blake turned off the water and turned back to me.

"Alright, pet. Bath time."

And with great care, he scooped me up and gently lowered me into the water. I hissed and whimpered as the milky warm water touched my angry red skin. Blake hushed me and stroked me hair, looking into my eyes with a convincing amount of care.

"You're alright, pet. You'll feel better once I wash you up, hey?"

I mutely nodded, tears forming in my eyes.

With that, he picked up a white washcloth that was sitting by the bath, and gently began to clean me. He scrubbed away at the blood and grime until my skin was clear, slowly working his way up and taking extra care around my wounds. He got me to lean forward, and sideways, and then to relax. Finally, he put down the washer, and turned back to the cabinet he'd gotten the rose soap from to pull out a bottle of shampoo and conditioner.

"Here, let me wash your hair too, my pet."

And without another word, he tipped some shampoo into his hand and began to lather it into my scalp.