My eyes fluttered open to the sound of the unlocking door. I saw the man come into the room, so I sat up to look at him. I wondered what would be in store for me that day, remembering that he was supposed to have "guests" over. He walked to me, humming and looking me over. "Good morning, pet," he smiled and reached out, stroking my cheek. I simply looked up at him, letting him caress my face as he wanted. "I hope you rested well. My guests are eager to meet you." Then, he took a step back, his gentle touch gone from my cheek. He pulled something out of his pocket - something wrapped in a cloth - laying it on a nearby chair. I tried to peer over to see what he had inside, but I couldn't see until he picked it up.
A syringe. Quickly, I retreated into the wall behind me, terrified of what was in the syringe. The liquid was clear and there wasn't much of it, but I didn't want whatever it was. The man looked to me as I shuffled back and smiled sickly. "Don't be scared, pet. This is to help you entertain our guests. Can't have you running away, of course." He walked over with a swab and a bandage in one hand, the syringe in the other. I pushed myself back further and further until I was cornered. He knelt in front of me, and I had nowhere to go.
"Come on, pet. Let's do this nicely, or you know what will happen." He opened the swab and wiped the cold alcohol pad on my arm. I whimpered, trying to find something, anything that would make him stop. My breath hitched as he got the syringe ready.
"P-Please, master," I begged, not knowing what else to do. "Please, I-I'll be good without it. I'll be perfect. I'll do anything you say, a-anything at all!"
The man looked me in my desperate eyes, raising an eyebrow in intrigue. He looked me over, then back to my eyes. I silently pleaded with all I had in me. "Really, pet? You promise to be good?"
"Y-Yes, sir!" I replied quickly. "I'll be extra good; I'll do anything you say!"
The man hummed, but stood. "Fine, then. If that's true, then stand up." I obeyed without question, as if my life depended on it. It might have. "Good boy. Follow me. If you try anything, you'll be severely punished."
"Yes, sir," I acknowledged, following the man. He had wrpped the syringe up by now and led me out of the room. My eyes adjusted to the brighter house outside of the room. I thought maybe I'd be able to get out now, if I could find the door, but then remembered what would happen if I wasn't successful. The fear of the punishment outweighed my will to be free.
The man led me to a living room, and pointed to the couch. "Sit, and don't move." I did as he asked, looking around the room as he walked away. The couch was in the middle of the room, as if on show, not near a wall or other furniture. I swallowed hard as I looked around to observe every detail of the-
A sharp pain hit my arm. I cried out, gasping, and pulling away. I saw the man behind the couch, smiling with the syringe. I panted and whimpered, looking to him. "You said you-"
"It's really for your own good, pet. Don't worry. You'll still be completely concious. This just inhibits your ability to move. It makes the body heavy; it fogs the brain."
I panted, letting out a soft cry as the syrum slowly took hold. I got dizzy, and the man pushed me to lay on the couch. I swallowed hard and groaned, unable to do much else. I found that I couldn't speak, as if I'd forgotten. The only protests that came from my mouth were groans and whimpers. The room spun and my body felt like it weighed a metric ton. I panted in panic as I heard his voice echoing.
"Be sweet, pet... My guests will love you..."
I didn't know what to do. What could I do? Once more, I tried to form some kind of coherent sentence, but it was no use. I couldn't. I just couldn't.
YOU ARE READING
Chains and The Church
General Fiction**Work in Progress** **Has mild themes of psychological abuse, physical abuse, and assault/sexual assault** Joseph was a kind man, though tough. He worked for a special team, a team of men he was proud to call his brothers. However, he was taken fro...
