Sadomasochist

Sadomasochist - Prologue

Sadomasochist - Prologue: Flashback

Ira Vampira playing Contressa Royale pictured above.

Not Edited

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October 31, 1800

"Scrub harder, you useless bitch!" the cold voice of the wealthy king Reginald spat. The twelve-year-old Contressa wept silently as she scrubbed vigorously onto the washing board, her weak arms began to fall numb. It hurt. Her fingertips began to feel raw as she scrubbed, and scrubbed, and scrubbed. Her young, pudgy face was bright red and wet with her tears.

"I'm scrubbing as hard as I can, your majesty, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she cried weakly. Her small, rough hands were scrubbing the king's dirty laundry onto the large washboard. For a king, Reginald had extremely poor hygiene. The putrid odor made her queasy, but she dare not disrespect the king. She couldn't dare miss another meal. However, the meals missed were only so because the king felt that she did not deserve them. He felt as if she didn't work hard enough to earn them. She silently prayed that one day she'll be reunited with her parents, even if they suffered a cruel fate.

Suddenly, the frail girl felt a harsh blow to the back of her head, and a warm, sticky substance spread through her thick, matted, silver locks. A burst of excruciating pain shook the young girl's body. Her muscles tightened in shock and her hand slowly lifted to touch the now bloody wound.

"Don't you back talk me!" his gruff voice rang out maliciously with a stone figurine clutched tightly in his hand, the side of the weapon was coated with the young girl's blood. Contressa felt dizzy, wincing as she moved her hand that began to feel sticky and wet with blood. Suddenly, she erupted into a firewall of pain. It pained for her to move and caused her muscles to tense up as she felt herself become faint from blood loss. Contressa was in too much pain to move, to breathe, to think. Her lips parted slightly, a ragged breath managing to escape through the pain.

"I-I'm s-..." The syllables barely made it through her chapped lips before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed on the marble floor with Reginald sneering maliciously down at her.

***

Contressa woke up hours later in a dark alleyway, confused about her new surroundings. She was cold, injured, and afraid. Her already matted, silver hair had caked up blood in it, and her frail body shook both with fright and in an attempt to keep warm. She slowly attempted to lift herself off of the dirty ground, but her limbs and head were screaming in a loud protest. The pain wasn't something that she wasn't used to. In fact, she was even used to the putrid smell of urine and feces. It was a smell that always lingered in the dingy old servants' quarters that Reginald kept her in with the other orphaned children. She was alone. She's been alone since she was five years old and her parents were executed before her for mere entertainment. It was obvious that Reginald only kept her because he didn't want his worker count to decrease too significantly. He was a very lazy king, and he felt there was no reason to hide it at all.

Contressa tried to maneuver herself down the darkened alleyway, but she didn't make it very far without collapsing. She was weak from hunger and blood loss. She was hardly ever fed in the castle because Reginald didn't feel that she deserved it, so much like the other servants, she was fed the bare minimum to keep her alive and barely strong enough to serve. After stumbling another five steps Contressa collapsed again, the pounding in her head growing significantly as she broke down in a fit of tears.

Curled up into a little ball, the young girl was afraid, but her fear did nothing to stifle the burning hatred that grew toward that bastard of a king, Reginald Royale. She hated him. The burning hatred flared in the pit of her stomach and she wanted nothing more than for him to suffer. She wanted someone to rip him limb for limb and make him feel just as she did. A burning rage flared through her veins and the pain in her head intensified as her heart rate picked up. She hated Reginald Royale. She wanted him to suffer just like he made her. She wanted him to die a slow, painful death because that's what she felt that he deserved. All her life she's done nothing but serve him, only to be beaten and have her parents killed before her very eyes at the age of five years old. She hated him! She hated him!