Tell Me When it Hurts

1

O n e : Tell Me When it Hurts 

Opening the back door to his Range Rover, Harry raises an eyebrow seeing Louis zoned out watching the other masters and submissives scatter from the building.

"Sad you were purchased?" Harry asks aloud, he himself found it to be an odd question but felt the need to hear his submissive deny it with confidence.

Instead, Louis flinches at the voice whipping his head to meet the man with sorrowful eyes, "Nevermind," Harry mutters patting the leather seat, "Get in then," Louis does as told climbing onto the seat watching curiously for the next instruction, "Buckle up," Harry commands shutting the door rounding the Rover to his own driver's side.

Sliding in himself, he turns the key starting the car with a glance over his shoulder seeing Louis staring out the window in awe, unbuckled.

Smacking Louis' thigh, Harry hardens his glare, "I said to buckle up,"

Louis gasps at the slap placing his own hand over his abused thigh tears pooling in his cerulean eyes, "Louis put your seatbelt on,"

Astounded the submissive acted as if he was deaf Harry pitches the manilla folder in the passenger seat exiting the car returning to Louis' side.

The submissive tenses bracing himself to be beaten when the door is thrown open, Harry grabs the seat belt ignoring the cowering of the boy, "do you know what this is?"

Louis whimpers unfolding from himself, shaking his head, Harry scoffing dragging it across Louis' body clicking it in the buckle, "This is a seat belt, have you never had to use one before?"

Again, Louis shakes his head in response, Harry chews his bottom lip patting the thigh he'd hit, "Next time tell me if I order you to do something and you don't know how."

It's silent in the car, Harry having to force himself to not tear into the manilla folder that sat teasingly in the passenger seat. It was possible the one prior the boy had didn't enforce him to wear seatbelts, but surely he had to know what they were at least.

He knew the submissive wasn't deaf, he answered him about his name. Growing annoyed by the silence of the ride, "I am Master Harold Styles," Harry announces, Louis flinches glancing at the man with pursed lips, the emerald, and oceanic eyes meet in the rearview for a split second before Harry returns his attention to the road.

"I don't have a lot of rules, nor patience. Do you have anything medically wrong with you?" Figuring this was quicker to ease his initial concern until he arrived at home, Harry asks it in hopes that Louis truly just didn't know what a seat belt was.

Tilting his head to the side in silent confusion, Louis gasps when Harry presses the brake suddenly, "Do you know how to speak?" His tone is lowered, the rearview mirror is taken ahold of and harshly positioned to Louis' view only, again eye contact is held, "Y-yes sir,"

"Are there any medical problems you have that you're aware of?"

Silence.

Harry glances once more at the folder as a glaring medical problem burned in his stomach, was the boy mental?

The remaining drive to Harry's mansion was uneventful, Louis kept his hands folded in his lap, lips pressed and eyes outside the window. He wanted to look at everything but the glaring orbs that sent daggers his way.

Men in suits approach the car as it pulls in, one woman stands waving toward Harry, "Chandler is on the phone! It's the Yellow deal," She informs, Harry sighs nodding as he extends his hand for the phone gesturing to Louis, "Bring him inside, he needs a bath before he steps foot in my room."