To be a slave

JULIETTE

I had never in my years of living imagined what it would truly feel like to be a slave. Not just being given off as collateral, or meeting a Psycho Alpha that craves to see you break, and beg for mercy. Not those kinds of slave treatments. No.

It was the kind that Darius subjected me to for seven long days. It was the unyielding links of large, heavy, and thick cold metal locked around my legs and arms, and then tightly secured to the walls of his chambers displaying me off like an animal.

It was watching the iron dig into my wrist and ankle, rubbing against them until they blistered and broke my skin open.

It was the heavy weight of metal dragging me down and interfering with my respiratory system, making it hard to breathe.

It was the fact that I learned comfort wasn't an option for me, that I could only sit with my back pressed against the wall and my legs bent to the side, or lie on the cold marble floor where my body ached and then grew numb over time.

It was realizing that every instinct to stretch, walk, run, and even crawl had been taken away by the chains that bound me.

But that wasn't the worst of it, it was the pain of my dignity, my self-respect, my self-worth, snatched from me by the snickering of the servants, Omegas like me who came regularly bringing me food and feeding it to me because I couldn't feed myself. The hands of people who hated and rejoiced in my sorrows fed me bread and custard.

And some didn't care for my position and would toss and play around with my meals, asking me to help myself while they laughed at my struggles, some chose to carelessly toss the food into my mouth, and some just didn't see the need to feed me, even when my stomach growled from hunger.

Yet it wasn't all, I was not only fed, but bathed where I sat. The servants scrubbed me, they scrubbed my sweat, cleaned my poop and urine, and changed my clothes whilst the chains remained.

And with every tug of the chains, every rattling sound they made, the truth of my life screamed louder.

Slave! Yes, a slave.

Humiliation burned hotter than everything capable of being hot, the pain sat heavily in my chest, and tears filled my eyes. I cried, but never in front of them. Never in front of him.

The only thing I wanted to do was scream at him, and punch him hard across the face to wipe off that smirk he flashed at me each time he walked into the chamber.

But I couldn't do any of that because I was bound, because I was a prisoner, a property, a slave he owned.

So in recent days, I averted my gaze when he walked in, believing a man like him did not exist.

But Darius wasn't ready to give up. Sometimes, he would come in and simply walk past me like I wasn't even present. He would grab whatever essentials he needed, and he would leave.

Sometimes he would touch the chains, making sure they were still tightly secured to the wall, and twice, he touched me, not with cruelty, nor with gentleness. Just a pull on my chin to meet his gaze, and a brush of his finger against my shoulder as if I was a commodity to be inspected, to let me know he knew exactly what he was doing.

I knew he wanted to hear me plead for mercy, to apologize for attempting to escape, but I vowed to myself that I never would, and I kept that vow to heart, despite everything I was going through.

The day has gone by in a flash, a clean up and meal time from new faces, and now the sun has gone down, giving rise to the moon and stars. The one thing that didn't seem like a disadvantage was the glass walls that kept me sane, helping me with scenes of what the outside world looked like.

The door opened and the servants who walked in made my heart sink into the abyss of shame all over again.

Ria and Stacy, the two omega servants who downplayed and called me a whore, whereas they knew half of the assaults I was going through.

As they stopped in front of me, I expected them to burst out laughing like the others, but instead, they sat by my side.

Stacy, the one I had slapped a week ago, pulled out a small bottle from her pocket. I flinched but she was quick to address it, “Please don't be scared, it's ointment for your skin. If I don't apply it, your skin will keep tearing up and I can't imagine the pain that would add to the bruises you have sustained. So please, let me help.” she said softly.

This had to be a dream, maybe I had fallen asleep or something, because there was no way in the world these ladies could be really helping me.

Ria, on the other hand, opened up the platter she had brought with her, and it was filled with beef stew, a bowl of mashed potatoes, and another bowl of rice. Staring at the meal made my stomach growl so loud I felt like punching myself.

“I am glad you are hungry, I bet you are going to finish this.” She said and smiled. I recoiled, still scared by their actions.

“We totally understand, Juliette. You have every right to be scared.” Ria glanced at Stacy, who had begun applying the ointments on my legs. “We were bitches the other day and we honestly deserved your response.” She continued, in a low voice, almost like she didn't want to be heard.

Which meant Darius wasn't aware of what they had chosen to do for me. They hated me a week ago, and now they were trying to help me.

Why?

If this wasn't a pretense to hurt me later on, then it was definitely pity, and the thought of that made me sick to my stomach.

Darius had done this, he made my enemies pity me. Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them spill. I wasn't about to break my promise to myself.

“Please leave,” I muttered under my breath, unable to take any more of their pity.

“But Juliette, you are hungry, and you need to heal…”

“I am not hungry, and I don't need your ointment, please leave, and if the Alpha asks, then you can go ahead and tell him you fed me well.”

“Juliette.”

“I NEED SPACE!” I barked before I could stop myself, my insides trembling from rage.

“Come on.” Ria tapped Stacy, she packed up the platter and they both left me to my thoughts.

My rage didn't subside, I felt it rise to every part of my being, and I waited to unleash it on the one who deserved it more.

When the door opened and Darius stepped in, I didn't avert my gaze this time. I screamed at him, “Does this bring you pleasure?” My voice echoes through the chamber.

“Is this what you are? A man who tortures women and calls it power?”

I said, cutting through the silence in the room, but Darius didn’t flinch. He calmly stepped over, his height towering over me.

“Who said you are a woman? You are my property, I see you as whatever I want, and right now, you are simply a slave being punished because you have done something wrong.” He said, his voice annoyingly calm.

I wanted to scream, but I held it back. It wouldn't change anything. “You are desperately trying to break me, you have insulted and humiliated me to great levels. But I say this to you Alpha Darius…

“YOU WON'T BREAK ME.” I gritted out.

Darius simply laughed, “We will see about that.” And then, as always, he picked up his essentials and left.

Motherfucker!