When the Dark Wins

Beth found herself sitting up, legs curled at her side, one hand braced in a puddle left behind from the water draining down the dark hole at the center of the room. The man tugged the chain higher, forcing her head to angle back, but she aimed her gaze just to the left of his head.

“Look at me.” It was a command, not a request. Clipped, abrupt, hard as ice.

She obeyed, and hated herself for it.

“Tell me thank you and I’ll let you take a warm shower.”

The girl was freezing, almost no color to her skin except for the darker tone of her areolas, and the hint of blue at her lips and fingernails. Her toes were hinting towards blue as well, and he knew what she needed to stay healthy. Alive.

Whether she got warm from him fucking her in a bed, or taking a shower alone, was up to her.

It had only been a couple of hours in the cold, but it had done exactly what he’d planned. Stripped her of another layer of that willpower she was clinging to so desperately. He could sense the struggle in her, recognizing it from the other girls he’d taken, broken. But this one was more of a challenge, which meant he could, and would, do so much more to her before she grew boring and docile.

Shifting his hand, he wrapped the chain around his hand another time, clenching his fist over the links to pull her higher, watching as she struggled to pull her legs beneath her so the strain on the collar wasn’t so severe.

Oh, the things he would make her do to avoid the pain.

“Last chance, slut.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, eyes down, but he tugged the chain instead of acknowledging her acquiescence.

“Louder.”

“Thank you.” Only a little louder, more of a growl, a promise of further defiance. Further opportunity to make her scream, and cry, and beg for a mercy that would never come.

It was that thought that made him smile again. He didn’t wait for her to recognize his movement, he simply walked towards the door with the chain clamped tight in his grip. Her knees scraped over the damp concrete, scuttling after him with stiff limbs. She whimpered when he hauled her over the doorway, something impacting the lip of the room as she tried to stand, but he tugged the chain to keep her in her proper place.

On her knees.

Scrambling to keep up with his pace.

He returned to the bedroom she’d awoken in, tapping the code into the lock as he hid the pad with his body. Not that she was coherent enough yet to pay attention.

Her shuddering breaths, interspersed with whimpers, were music to his ears. Or it would be music to his ears if he could enjoy music at all. Screams and cries were his music, and he would make her a symphony before he sold her.

Tugging the chain hard, he buckled her to the floor, and then released it to shut the door behind them. It auto-locked, as it always did, and he waited as she caught her breath. One hand braced on the floor between her knees as she pushed herself upright, forming into an almost perfect presentation.

A happy accident, he was sure, but still delightful for the customers on t

he cameras.

She had potential. So much potential.

He just needed to carve away everything else until all that was left was the broken slave at the core of who she thought she was. Take away the sense of self, the sense of worth, the concept of individuality — then she’d be ready to sell.

The girl’s brown eyes lifted, met his, and he contemplated slapping her. But she self-corrected too quickly, gaze diverting to the hardwoods under her naked, shivering limbs. It was likely she wasn’t even aware of the way her flesh trembled, it had probably been so steady for the last hour or so that she could only feel the more violent tremors.

Her body’s desperate attempt to create warmth.

“Slave.” It was only a word for now, but he noted how her head lifted slightly. Almost answering to it. Another step forward. “Ask for permission to have your shower.”

It was the sudden tensing of her shoulders that telegraphed her resistance this time. No eye contact, no foul-mouthed curses, no violent thrashing. The tension bled out of her with the next hard shiver of her body, and he could hear her teeth chattering as she tried to stymie it. “May I please shower?”

“Finish your request properly,” Anthony commanded and watched her body still, only the subtle tremors making her muscles jump unconsciously, but the girl stayed quiet. Sighing, he threaded his fingers into her damp hair and tightened, ripping her upright so that she had no choice but to shuffle on her knees and shins as he half-dragged her into the bathroom. The light switch instantly brightened the room, and he knew the action had activated the cameras so that his customers could enjoy this.

He wanted to make her scream for defying him, but that would have to wait. Her core temperature needed to elevate first, then he could torment her again.

There is plenty of time. Patience is necessary.