Page 18 of Naughty

Chapter6

Noel

Groaning,I raise my hand to my head. Everything throbs and aches. Did Master Claus knock me out again? If he did, it didn't hurt nearly this bad last time. With my eyes closed, I take a mental inventory of my body. Every muscle is sore, but not in a good way. Not in the way I felt the first night with him.

My bottom still aches from where he penetrated me. Flushing, I try to ignore the throb that tries to rekindle my desire. It hurt, dear Fathers, it hurt, but after came such an amazing pleasure. I didn't know it could feel that good. Groaning, I wrap my arms about my waist, dispelling any girlish notions about involving Master Claus and me.

After catching me in his study, I don't see why he'd actually choose to grant me that type of pleasure. I lean my head back, a frown scrunching down my forehead. The pillows were much softer last night. I stretch out and meet hard metal. Sweat beads at the base of my head and rolls down my neck. I try to straighten my feet but find that they can only move about an inch.

My eyes fly open as memories crash through my skull. I'm no longer at Northport! A whine builds in my throat, but I swallow it down. I don't want him knowing I'm awake. My pulse thunders a rapid staccato in my ears. I clench my hands into fists, trying to ground myself. I can't fall apart now.

Shame floods my body as I remember Master Marcus walking into the room, seeing me tied up and filthy. His eyes blazed in his rage as he cut me loose. Bringing my hand to my cheek, I wince as I finger the sore area. I move my jaw around, relieved that it doesn't seem broken. The room is dark, with nothing lit for me to see around. Closing my eyes, I force myself to think of light. Anything bright and cheerful will work.

Unbidden, Master Claus's face flashes in my mind. Tears slip silently down my face. If only I was able to tell him. Quiet sobs wrack my body. Yes, Master Claus hurt me too, but his was different. There was a pleasure to his pain. Master Marcus only hurts with nothing to dull the discomfort. With him, I felt scared and out of control. With Master Claus, I felt safe and secure. What I would give to go back in time, knowing then what I know now.

"Thinking of that boy, aren't you?"

I freeze, my ears straining in the dark. His heavy, thudding footsteps get closer and closer. I grip the bars and pull myself away from the sound. Small is safe. The scrape of a match roars in the silent room. The small flicker turns into a large flame as he lights the lantern he's holding. As his face comes into view, my heart stutters.

Bitterness fills my soul as I realize how much I deluded myself into thinking that Master Claus was going to be my savior. If the stories are to be believed, he probably has another woman warming his bed at this very moment.

"He's a filthy, nasty boy that will only use you up. I raised you better than this."

I give a weak nod and rest my head on the bars. He did warn me. I can't say he didn't.

"I bet you let him stick himself everywhere, didn't you? Don't lie to me, girl."

Peering up at Master Marcus's face, I shrink back. Such hatred, such vehemence fills his eyes.

"N-No, sir. I kept myself pure. Just like you ordered."

"Bah. Pure. I'm sure that was just icing drizzled up your back then, wasn't it?"

Before I can answer, a splash of freezing water flies over my body, soaking through the thin sheet covering me. Wrapping my arms about my chest, I tighten myself into a ball, trying to conserve heat. Another splash, this time from behind. Crying out, I grip the bars. There's no use pleading with him. It will only make him angrier.

Whimpers escape my chattering teeth. I try to swallow them, try to be strong, but I can't. I can't stop the tears that flow. I can't stop the anguish flowing through my body.

"When I took you in all those years ago, I only had two rules: stay pure, and obey me. I thought I could beat the obedience into you, but I guess I was wrong. You're a filthy whore. I should have known it from the moment I saw you. You always did have a defiant gleam to your eyes."

Closing my eyes, I grit my teeth, willing heat to rise through me. Nothing. But what did I expect from a normal, no magic elf like myself? I force myself even tighter, bracing for the next wave, but it never came. Instead, strong fingers grip my hair, forcing my head backward. I yelp and go where his hand leads, forcing myself not to resist.

With a loud clang, he unhooks the lock and lets it fall to the floor. I flinch at the loud sound. He opens the door and grabs my hair again, dragging me out and onto the freezing stone. Gathering the wet sheet, I cover myself as best I can, but Master Marcus rips it from my frozen fingers.

"Don't hide yourself now. I already saw you, ass up, holes gaping."

The sudden blow of pain to the other side of my cheek catches me off guard, and I stumble towards the floor. Soon after, another splash drenches me, bringing with it more wracking shivers. Master Marcus tromps over and grabs my neck, forcing me down to the ground. Turning my head, he shows me a wiry brush we use to comb out the goats before shoving my face back down to the ground.

The wires feel like knives serrating my skin. I cry out, my body bursting into action. I have to get away. I have to break free, but Master Marcus doesn't let me. My hands scramble about the floor as I claw at it, trying to find purchase. He's too strong. With his hand clamped on me like a vice, all I can do is wriggle about. It does nothing to alleviate the pain going through my body. I lay there, forcing my mind elsewhere while his brush lacerates my back.

I don't scream. I know better than to scream. It will only make matters worse. Instead, I allow myself little whimpers. Things that aren't too loud. Tears flow from my face in earnest. He fills up another bucket and tosses it on my back, making my whole body seize up. Satisfied with how clean I am, he again grabs me by the hair and hauls me to my feet.

"Got to get you dressed for your boyfriend. He's coming for you, and you're going to disillusion him of his notions."

Picking up his lantern, he drags me into the nearby room. A plain, white dress lies across the chair along with a few towels. Master Marcus tosses me in and slams the door. Making a beeline for the towels, I wrap myself up and force my heart rate to slow down. I grip the fabric around me tighter and tighter, ignoring the shards of pain lancing through my back.

When I finally warm up, I ease the towel away, flinching as it pulls from my skin. I look at the pink spots in dismay. Hopefully, I won't ruin the dress when I put it on. It doesn't matter that he's done this to me; it will still be all my fault. I tamp down my whining as I stretch my arms through the dress. The soft fabric glides over my body, covering me from neck to toe.

As I finish dressing, the door opens, and Master Marcus comes through with a steaming cup. Shaking my head, I knock over my chair in an attempt to get away, but the small room offers very little in the way of protection.