Chains and The Church

Chapter 6

I woke to a searing pain on my arm, gasping and trying to move. I was held down by the man's weight as he sat on top of me and held my arm down with his knee. I cried out in pain and my back arched as I realized he had an iron brand pressed against my upper arm.

The man shushed me, then took the hot iron off my arm. I panted, adrenaline coursing through my veins. "Good boy," he said softly, leaning down and kissing my neck. "Now, you're mine... forever. Don't ever forget it, or I will remind you."

I whimpered in hopeless protest. I didn't understand what he meant, but I was sure he was serious. "Please..." I whimpered. "It hurts..."

"It's a good pain, pet. Don't complain anymore." He carted his fingers through my hair, then felt my face down to my chin, where the stubble had grown out over the time I was in the man's care. He stroked my beard, and I swallowed hard, just watching his eyes move over my face. He set down the branding iron on the linoleum floor, then reached over and picked up a razor and a cup of water. "Let's tidy you up. I have guests coming over tomorrow, and I want you to look nice." A blood-curdling smile split across his lips as he wet the razor. "If you move, it's going to cut you," he said, putting it up to my cheek. "Understand, pet?"

"Yes, sir," I replied begrudgingly, looking up at the sick man. I thought maybe I could get away, especially as he was preoccupied with my beard, but then the flashbacks of the torture I'd endured came to me. I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing hard and deciding to let him do as he pleased. The worse I struggled, the worse he would torture me. I slowly let my body relax under his. He was straddling me as he shaved my face, still with that disgusting smile on his lips. He nicked my skin and I let out a soft cry, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Sorry, pet, didn't mean it."

His words echoed in my head. They were empty. He did mean it. I knew he did, especially when it happened repeatedly. He nicked my skin six or seven times, each saying the same thing with that sick smile. When he was finished, he put on aftershave, making it burn into the nicks. I grit my teeth in pain, looking up at him.

He patted my cheeks, then held them in his hands. "Look at you. Even prettier now. Good boy." He then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. That was the last straw before my will kicked back in. I pushed him off me as best I could and tried to get out from beneath him. It was barely any use, and I could see the fire in his eyes. "Bad boy. Very bad boy." He nearly growled the statements as he grabbed me by the neck. "Get up."

He pulled me up by my neck and pushed me over to one of the pieces of furniture. It was a wooden post with handcuffs attached to it. He secured my wrists. I tried to fight, but there was no use to it. Then, he got a long whip off the wall, and I tried to get loose, panicking as my fight or flight kicked in. It was going to hurt.

-

Later, after I was whipped to his satisfaction, my whole body ached. I was weak and bleeding everywhere. I had fallen to my knees, my hands still tied at the top of the post, my arms stretched uncomfortably. That was the least of my pain, though, as I could feel my skin in shreds. I was dipping in and out of consciousness when I felt his hand on my chin. "Say it."

I had already said it a hundred times. "I-I'm sorry..."

"What? Who are you talking to?"

"I'm s-sorry, master..."

"There it is. Don't you forget it." He huffed and cleaned off the whip, putting it back on the wall.

I dipped out of consciousness for a moment. The next time I woke, I was on the floor in a heap. My vision was blurred and the pain I was in was too much to bear. I groaned as my body was shifted by an outside force. I could feel my clothes being stripped off me and I panicked, whimpering in protest as the room spun. I tried to get the hands off me but was too weak as his body weight came down on me. Not only did it aggravate the wounds, but I couldn't move. I blacked out again.

When I could finally open my eyes, I was sitting up, warm water rushing over my body. I whimpered, blinking awake to see the red water draining from a tub. It stung on my back, but I was too lightheaded to protest. I blacked out again.

Blinking awake for the last time, I was back on the mattress, bandaged up. I had on some sweatpants but nothing else besides the bandages around my torso. I sat up quickly, making my head spin as I looked around, realizing I was back in the room. I swallowed hard and looked around. The pole which I had previously been cuffed to was still stained with my blood, as well as the tile around it. I shivered at the thought, looking up to see the man enter the room.

"You're awake. Good." He hummed and walked over, stroking my cheek again. "Now, are you going to be a good boy?"

Tears welled in my eyes. "Y-Yes sir," I mumbled, nodding and leaning into his touch. Any shred of dignity I had left was gone. I had no idea what he did to me while I was unconscious.

"Alright then, prove it." He crouched down and tapped his lips with his index finger. "Come on, pet."

I let out a shaky breath, grunting at the wounds on my back and shoulders as I moved forward. I knelt in front of him, swallowing hard. I didn't want to, but I didn't want that treatment again. Leaning up, I pressed my lips to his, closing my eyes and hoping it would be over soon. He put a hand to the nape of my neck, gently stroking at my hair, the other hand rubbing my burning back.

He pulled away after a moment, smiling. "Good boy. Remember, just be sweet and all the pain will stop."

Be sweet. It echoed in my head just as it had the first time he said it. The only difference was this time I was willing to do as he asked. I was broken.

"Rest, and I will come see you in the morning. I have to get ready for tomorrow. You'll be good, won't you? Hmm?"

"Yes sir," I replied, whimpering slightly when his touch was taken away. As sick as he was, I somehow longed for the soft touches he would give me, especially after the pain was over.

He stood. "You'd better be, or your punishment will be worse than anything you've experienced so far." With that, he turned and left. Click.

I shuddered, wondering what could possibly be worse than what he'd already done to me. I curled up on the mattress and fell asleep despite the aching pain of my wounds, tears flooding my eyes.