SLAVE OF THE HEART

Put In Your Place

Twenty slaves.

Twenty slaves whipped so hard their skin was gone.

One of them almost died from the pain.

Lucas assessed the damages and decided to take matters into his own hands. He went over to deal with Harold.

He couldn't help dreading this confrontation. However, remembering Vasheronne's actions against Malik gave him the necessary courage he needed.

"If Vasheronne could do it, I can too."

<><><><>

This was oddly expected. Harold was hitting a slave.

He was looking maniacal.

"Hello Harold," Luke said, stepping up to look at the sweating man who was all too happy to grin at his boss' son.

"Sir Luke," he nodded, looking at him happily. Too happily.

"What has she done?"

"Nothing really, come to think about it. Why are you asking?"

Luke shook his head. "You have to stop doing this. You are hurting them and my dispensary can't deal with all these wounds."

"I am whipping them into good manners."

"You are the one who needs the good manners. Now, listen here, if any more slaves come to my clinic with any wounds, any wounds, i will have you arrested."

"You wouldn't..." Harold began, "this is your father's farm."

"Well, he agrees with me on this. You are decapitating his labour and if you do not stop, you will get demoted and will work in the farm while Veronica whips you for all she is worth. You know," here Luke dropped his voive conspirationally, "since Charlotte died, she's been wanting to whip anything that reminds her of Malik. I am quite sure you are quite the reminder."

Harold was shaking from head to toe. Yeah, that scared him. He walked off and threw the whip away.

"Good boy," Luke whispered to himself. "Good boy."

<><><><>

Harold kept pacing back and forth, seemingly unable to help feeling angry at the owner's son. He couldn't believe that he had gotten sassed.

Or humiliated.

It is true what they say though, that once you climb the rungs of a ladder, if forced to step down, one can become almost feral.

This was what Harold was experiencing. He wanted nothing more than to get even with the owner's son.

He was already tired of being a slave. He just wanted his best friend back. He was the only person who did things like this the right way.

He looked up at Sir Baron, smiling uncertainly as he awaited his reply.

"Harold, I know you are very serious about your job, but your enthusiasm has so far harmed half of my slaves. So, I am going to have to ask you to step down..."

"But sir..."

"I am sorry Harold, you'll go back to your previous job of assistant foreman. I have appointed a new person in your place."

"Who..." he trailed off, afraid to say the accompanying words of the sentence.

"My daughter Veronica. It is a temporary measure, she is under probation right now, and I will be assisting her."

"Oh..." he swallowed. This was not happening. This was not happening.

<><><><>

They are trying to put me in my place, but I will not let them

He paced back and forth. What could he do? What would he do?

I can't start an uprising.

He looked around his somewhat decent quarters.

What if i can seduce... no, look where Malik is right now...

He looked over to his friend's favourite chair. He missed Malik. If only he was here, he wouldn't need to be controlled by her.

A girl who he openly despised. His ego wouldn't take it.

Why her? Did Luke turn down the offer?

Why did he look almost happy to see his climb thwarted?

He knew he had gone to extremes whipping the slaves but they had it coming. They thought that his beautiful green eyes and his brown curls would never sell him off as a foreman.

How does Siva do it?  How did Malik command respect all year round?

How did that happen? Was Indira a hard task master?

Was that why her husband ran away?

Ugh Harry! Stop thinking too hard. Stop!

He got into bed and turned off the lights, hoping to catch his forty winks of sleep.

<><><><>

Morning.

He was all dressed up amd ready to go to work when he ran into her. His new boss.

Was he to call her ma'am?

He bowed his head as she rode past on horseback. That was a good idea, she looked really superior from her mighty horse. He heard her reign her horse in and he looked up to see her dismounting without help. She almost broke her leg.

"Harold! Aren't you supposed to help me dismount?!" she barked, marching over to him. His eyes widened as their eyes met and held. He looked down.

"I am sorry ma'am..." he began.

"Mistress," she intoned angrily. "Call me Mistress."

"Yes Mistress."

"Why are you still standing there? Help me up my horse!" she screeched. For some reason, he was paralyzed and this angered her more. She hit him across the face, waking him up.

You can guess why he was paralyzed.

He was staring at her figure.

He heard some whispers from the other slaves. He felt stupid and humiliated. This is what he had done to them. Embarrassed and humiliated them.

At least he was a man. He was being embarrassed by a girl. She was even younger than him.

A girl!

"Help me up Harold, unlike you, I have an actual job to get to. Hurry up, we don't have all day!"

She grinned at him once she was saddled in before whispering,  "damn, you got yourself some biceps!"

As she rode off, she turned and winked at him.

If that was anything to go by, then he would have been happy to know that she was just messing with him. However Harold read too deep into everything.

Oh my God she wants me to sleep with her!

Stupid Harold!