Chapter 13: A Day Of Rest

336 6 3
                                    

  There is cutting in this chapter. It is not self-harm, but it is non-con   

The sunlight warms his skin as it beams in from the window. Gerard stretches and then coils back in pain. His arms and legs aching with sharp stinging pain. He opens his eyes and looks up. He looks at himself in the standing mirror near Frank's bed. He sees the thick metal collar around his neck and the chain that leads out of the mirror's reflection, but continues to the bed post. Gerard can also see the marks on his arms. It is the first time he has been able to lay eyes on them. The word is in reverse, but he can clearly see what it says. M I N E. It runs up his arm in all capitals, shiny from the salve that it's been covered in. Someone took the time to keep infection away, although it was not bandaged. Gerard is pretty sure that Frank did it. He has the feeling that Jamia would have covered them. He slowly sits up and looks at his other arm. There are three hearts carved into it. Gerard looks at his legs and notices his knees are all scratched up. There are marks from the stone floor embedded into the skin. These too are covered in salve as well as his inner thighs. There is a letter on each side, F. I., Frank's initials. The worst marks are on the outer thigh of his right leg and his stomach. The entire thigh has a man being hung carved into it. Under it are small lines and letters on two of them. Gerard shudders and remembers the game that Frank wanted to play. He had to guess the letters before the hanged man was finished being carved. He could only come up with two. The memory brought back fresh pain and tears rolled down his cheeks. He touched his stomach and felt the birds carved into him. He did not understand this one at all. At the time he did not care, he just wanted the pain to stop. Gerard had begged Frank to stop hurting him. He cried so much and when he looked up at Frank's face he only saw shining eyes and a maniacal happiness on Frank's face. He enjoyed hurting Gerard like this. He got off on watching the blood pour out, literally. As Frank carved each part he would jerk off and cover Gerard with cum stinging each open wound. It was filth and degradation. Gerard laid back down and sobbed into the bed-clothes reliving each moment vividly.

He must have fallen asleep again because the sun had moved from the bed to the floor. This time when he tried to stretch there was resistance. He looked and saw that he was now bandaged. All the cuts and marks were wrapped in white rags, then covered over with delicate lace. They were carefully tied closed and he could see new salve peeking out of some. Looking around the room he saw a bowl with bloody rags and water. He wondered again Jamia, but he knew it had been Frank again. Maybe Frank was sorry that he hurt him. May be he felt remorse? No, that word was not in Frank's vocabulary. This was another game, right? Gerard sat up slowly and noticed a table with fresh fruit on it. He carefully got up from the bed, the slack of chain clanking to the floor, and walked carefully over to it. He looked for a chair, but there was none other than the one Frank used. Gerard sighed and started to bring the fruit back to the bed. Suddenly he stopped and looked at the floor. He slowly dropped to his knees, hissing a bit at the contact, and placed the bowl on the floor. The same as he did in the dining room, he ate the fruit right there. It felt right or natural, but he did not understand why. Once he was finished, he curled up on the rug and went back to sleep.

This time when he woke up it was dark out. A platter was off to the side of him and Gerard could detect the aroma under the cover faintly. He sat up and crawled over to it. He lifted the lid and the wonderful aroma filled the room. The dome kept the roasted vegetables hot and fresh for him. He picked up a parsnip and gingerly popped it into his mouth. He groaned at the wonderful flavor dancing on his tongue. It felt like he had not eaten in days. Not caring about manners he dove into the plate with his hands. No regard for the heat, Gerard fisted the food and swallowed it greedily, spilling it down the front of his chest. Through his half lidded eyes he spied a bottle of wine and a goblet filled to the brim. He picked up the goblet and dipped his finger in. It was the same wine from Frank's collection. He took it in big gulps letting it dribble out the side of his lips. He knew he was drinking too fast and that it would result in that light headed feeling, but he did not care. Once the goblet was drained he ate more food. This time he did not bother with the goblet and just drank from the bottle. He knew that it was barbaric, but he was not sating his thirst with what was in the goblet.

Bondage Mansion (Ferard)Where stories live. Discover now