Once again he stands in front of you. A look of pure anger on his face as he continuously scolds you for your performance the night before. He complains that you should be grateful to be pretty enough to be seen. He yells about how you should be grateful that a man such as him would want a bitch such as yourself. "How many?" You perk up at his question. "How many do you deserve?" His voice is laced with venom.
A shiver runs down your spine as you answer, "50." He scoffs and turns away to grab the whip hanging on the wall. As he lowers it he glances at you. He looks you up and down. His eyes landing on your exposed thighs.
"25 for disobedience, 15 for rejecting me, and 10 for trying to run after." The tone of his voice sends your mind into a panic. You know he won't be merciful. He never was. You deserved this. You truly did. You knew what the consequences were going to be but you still did it. Why? You didn't want people to see you weak. You wanted them to see you as nothing more than a sex doll. You wanted to be seen as a person. You knew that would never happen. The last person to see you as a human being was dead. Killed by the man you once called your father. Why he did it was still a mystery. You never got to ask. You never got to say goodbye. You don't even know what happened to her body. The sound of the whip against your skin and that shot of pain on your thighs snaps you back to reality. You look down to see a faint red mark across your thighs. And so the punishment begins.
Number 10, the number when your thighs started to bleed. Number 20, the number when you realized you were crying. Number 25, the number when you started to lose feeling in your legs. Number 35, the number when you started to lose consciousness. Number 40, the number when you could no longer feel the pain. Number 45, the number when the shot was heard downstairs.
Time seemed to slow as more shots could be heard. A banging on the door, loud and obnoxious. Yelling, loud, and undeterred by the noise around. The sound of the door breaking caught your attention. Before you could see who entered, your "master" stepped in front of you, blocking your view of the newcomer. A gunshot, much closer this time. The sensation of floating. What was happening? You look down at your arm to see blood dripping to the floor. You got shot. It barley skimmed your arm but it hurt like hell. A strangled cry came from you as your vision began to blur. The sound of yelling becoming distant. The sound of gunshots stopping. The sound of a body hitting the floor almost nonexistent. The sound of mechanical laughter sounded as if it was miles away. You chocked, trying to speak. The blood rushing in your ears was deafening. A faint sound of people running returned to your ears. The black that had swallowed you unconsciously slowly faded away. Your senses came back.
You were sitting on your bed, the maids running around your room stopped to stare at you. You look at them confused. They seem to snap out of their daze as they rush to your side. All asking questions at the same time. Your head starts pounding as your thoughts swim around in your head, trying to create full sentences. You feel something on your leg be pulled off. Your eyes wander to the new scares on your thighs, still slightly pink meaning that they had only recently finished healing. As you stare at the new scars the realization hits you like a brick. The scars were from the punishment the master gave you for being disobedient at the party yesterday. Wait, no. That can't be right. Cuts like those don't heal that fast. As the memories come rushing back you feel dread take over your body. "How long?" Your voice is quiet but in the silence of the room, it's deafening. "How long was I out for?" You look up at one of the maids as tears spill out of your eyes. "What day is it." Your voice breaks on the last word.
The maid you addressed sighs, "It's May 23. You've been unconscious for 3 months." Your eyes widen and the weight of her answer hits you. 3 months. You were unconscious for 3 months! As you mentally freak out, the door to the bedroom opens. You "master" see you and a huge shit-eating grin makes its way onto his face. He walks over to you and gently cups your face in his hands. The maids look at each other uneasily but otherwise, do nothing. With the wave of his hand, the maids are dismissed. You feel your stomach drop from the dread of your current situation. He lets go of your face and makes his way to the dresser. He rummages through it for a few minutes before finally finding what he wanted. He tosses to a pair of crimson red lingerie and walks out of the room. Already knowing what to do, you disrobe and put on the flimsy material. You sit back down as he enters the room once again, only this time he has a collar, a leash, and handcuffs. This was going to be a long night.
~One week later~
Gunshots were heard. You were commanded to stay as your "master" leaves you alone in the room. You take this chance to escape. Mt. Ebott is looking quite friendly now.
YOU ARE READING
Underfell Sans X Reader: A New Beginning DISCONTINUED
Fanfiction(Y/n) was a cheerful young girl once. Her life couldn't have been better, that is until that fateful day. With the loss of her mother and becoming a victim of sex trafficking for many years, she decided that maybe death would be better. She decide...
