A Slave For The Devil

"Turn around," he said which made her flinch. He had such a commanding voice that she couldn't help but follow what he was saying.

How did she end up being here? Her life seemed normal before. It all changed one night—the moment she turned eighteen. Sometimes she would wonder if it made a difference if she was not in her house when it all happened. Sometimes she would wonder if he would find her wherever she is.

She turned around and felt the weight of his stare on her back. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she closed her eyes, trying to keep herself together. The hair on her body rose as she heard him move, followed by his footsteps drawing closer to her. 

It had been what she had to do for several nights. To stand there, to tremble, and flinch every time he speaks or touches her skin. It could be just her imagination but she could see he was also holding back whenever he touches her.

And then she felt it. The electrifying feeling every time he touches her skin. It was something she could never get used to. And deep down, she knew she likes it: his warm breath on her neck, the feeling of his fingers tracing lazily on the length of her arm, and his low voice in her ear that said, "How do you want it this time?" It was enough to make her insides flip. She had the sudden urge to let out a shuddering breath but she stopped herself. She kept her breathing shallow.

She bit her lip as she felt his lips barely touching the base of her neck. She wanted to move and pull him close and just let his teeth graze on her skin. But she remained still. She shouldn't be feeling this way. This is wrong in so many ways. And yet she couldn't stop. She ended up wanting more of it.

When did she start feeling this way towards him? Was it when they first did it? She had to admit she liked it. All she ever thought was that she would be tortured, tormented, mistreated— worse than what her aunt did to her. And yet the moment his hand touched her skin, a shiver went down her spine and the feeling was something she never felt before. It was foreign and pleasant and she knew that she should have pulled away from his grasp. But she succumbed to it. When she tilted her head to the side and a moan came out of her mouth, it was his undoing and she knew she was about to feel the wave of pleasure.

His hands got bolder and from doing lazy strokes on her arms, they went up to hold her neck. His long fingers warm against her skin as they wrapped around her slender neck.

"You're liking this, aren't you?" he had whispered before his mouth nibbled her earlobe. She did not respond for the fear of letting out a moan instead of a protest. 

This has to be an enchantment. This couldn't be real. Why am I letting his hand roam free around my body? Why do I like it? Why do I want more? Why do I want him to do things to me I have never felt before?

It was all she could hear inside her head. She was craving for him. And as much as he want to stop it, she couldn't. 

She was pulled back from her reverie when she felt his arm snake around her waist, pulling her close. And with that, she could feel him behind her.

His bare chest was warm against her almost bare back. She closed her eyes as she tipped her head back, resting on his shoulder. He chuckled and she opened her eyes, meeting his dark stare.

"You're starting to learn to embrace what you really want, Guinevere," he said. She shivered at the cold bite of the air on her exposed skin. She wrapped her one hand around his neck as if holding on to dear life.

But then she was surprised when he pushed her away. She turned to face him and he smiled as he stepped back and sat on the bed. He rested his hands behind him as he leaned back, watching her decide on what she would do next.

It was an invitation. It was a test. He was trying to see if she would succumb willingly this time. He was provoking her earlier and she was aching for more when she shouldn't have. Now it's a test of her will.

Would she succumb this time?

Her mind shouts it's wrong. Her mind shouts to run as fast as she could. But she found herself walking towards him, instead.

You can't run from him. You belong to him from the moment your mom conceived you. She reprimanded herself because even if she run, she don't have anywhere else to go. She is trapped in the underworld and there is no one who could help her but herself.

She saw how his smile turned into a smirk as he watched her walk towards him, one foot in front of the other. When she was close enough she couldn't help but feel so bare. Her clothes did so little to cover more skin and she was shivering. Perhaps it was because of the cold or perhaps it was because of something else entirely, she doesn't know. All she knows is that if she wants to survive, she will have to walk on the burning rope.

She could see how his eyes traveled from her face to her whole being. She was just standing there like an interesting specimen being observed.

"I wonder what I will do to you, Guinevere," he said. She clenched her jaw as his eyes went back to her face.

"How do you want to start?" he asked and she swallowed hard.

"However you want, sire," she said and lowered her gaze. She has learned that this man in front of her is no ordinary man. That this man in front of her is someone the king of the underworld himself. And she would do well if he won't go into his bad graces.

She was surprised that she almost jumped back when she saw him stand. He towered over her. She could almost feel the heat his skin radiates.

''I'm tired of you, tonight," he said. "Go back to your chamber."

She did not show the relief on her face. She turned and walked out of his quarters.  The moment she was out, she rested her back on the wall. That's when she noticed she was shaking.

Did he notice I was trembling?

She swallowed the lump in her throat before she gathered herself back together. Ever since she got here, she had been thinking of ways to get out, to break his ownership of her.

Her parents made a deal with the literal devil. She felt like she was falling down the deep, dark hole, not knowing when she would reach the bottom. And she could feel herself getting attracted to him, anticipating what he would do to her next.

But what would she be able to do against him? He is the god of the underworld, the king of this place. She is a mere human who did not even believe in the existence of gods until she met one.

How is she going to get out of the underworld—away from his grasp? Or the real question is: how can she stop wanting him?