No Way Out

Children and Wine

*Violence Warning*

A mere three words left the slave's soft lips. Something the nobleman should have expected. Even outside the duke's manor, slaves were always nothing more than nameless property. They were marionettes to be pulled and manipulated to their master's and mistress's desires. Even in the palace, things were like that, though slaves there were treated rather well compared to the rest of the kingdom. They were still slaves nonetheless.

Ravus wanted to speak more, but his attention snapped to the room entrance as a laugh burst over the wealthy commotion. It drew nearer, and in an instant, the nobleman retrieved the glass he had given the slave, and departed. Despite his position, the nobleman wanted to avoid causing the male any possible trouble, and he didn't know if the presence of the glass would cause the duke to form any suspicions in his drunken state. A smart move it was, for the duke swayed over to his pet with wine glass in hand. He was giving a drunken explanation of how his great great grandfather had the painting on the ceiling commissioned by a long dead artist. How it took years to complete. By then, the nobleman had disappeared from sight completely.

For several more hours, the party raged on. A few groups of young nobles paid the duke's pet a visit only to laugh and make a mockery of him. One particular male with perfectly combed golden locks even spit in the slave's direction. The youths poked at the male, and, in their amusement, poured a glass of wine that one of the adults had left on a table all over the slave's head, and the clothes he had been given by the duke. Expensive clothes. The giggled, and watched as the crimson liquid emptied from the glass, and dashed away from the scene of the crime before they were caught in the act, leaving behind the empty glass sideways on the table so that any remaining liquid would bleed onto the pure white cloth, though that part was unintentional.

As predicted, word spread quickly, and when the duke overheard that his pet had made a mess of himself, he stormed over, finding the clothes he'd generously gifted to the pet to wear that night stained red. The rage on his expression was undeniable. He yanked the lead from the table, and grabbed a fistful of the male's hair. Guests watched as the duke dragged the slave by the hair out of the room, and up the flight of stairs to the second room. Hushed whispers filled the silence as the slave disappeared from their sights. None of them cared, though. It was the slave's fault for angering his master, they agreed, and they carried on as if nothing had happened.

The duke ground the male's head into the cold marble tiles, followed by a kick to the stomach, and tore off his soiled clothes. He dug his knee into the male's back as he held his arms behind his back. The ropes bit into his wrists first. The duke straightened the slave's arms out. He tugged with all his strength on the ropes as he bound the slave's arms into a binder that pulled his shoulders back, and tied his elbows together as much as they would allow. With Taylen's arms restrained, the duke forced a large piece of cloth into male's mouth, and sealed it in with a long strip. This, too, was pulled until it could be tightened no more. A stool was dragged over, and the duke strapped the male's torso to the seat. The finishing touch was the binding of Taylen's ankles which were crossed, and restrained together. Before he departed, the duke took another fistful of the male's hair, and forced his gaze upwards. His long nails trailed along the sides of Taylen's cheeks, and down to his neck where the collar and lead was.

"You will regret soiling my generosity."

The duke hissed into the male's ear. He took the lead, and tied it to the leg of the stool, leaving little slack, then rose, and stepped out of the room. He locked the room up, and returned to his dear guests.