ILL TREATMENT

Olivia pov…

The night approached with a swiftness that surprised me. I stepped out into the garden, letting the cool breeze play with my hair. In the moonlight, the flowers glowed like jewels, and I could feel my worries melting away in the tranquil atmosphere. I took a deep breath, letting the scent of the blossoms fill my senses. For a moment, I felt at peace.

The peace was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching. I turned to see one of the maids standing in the doorway, a smile on her face.

“Good morning, ma’am. Your husband wishes to see you,” she said, her voice as sweet as honey. But I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anger at her words.

“When will you stop calling that man my husband?” I snapped, my anger boiling over. “He is not my husband, and he never will be.”

I turned and strode away, my blood boiling. I was sick of being treated like some kind of object to be traded and disposed of at will.

I stopped in my tracks, realizing I had no idea where he was. “Where is he?” I asked, my voice shaky with emotion.

“He’s in the sitting room with some guests,” she said, bowing her head before I turned and walked away.

My heart was pounding as I made my way to the sitting room. I knew what I had to do, but I wasn’t sure if I could do it. When I finally reached the room, I could hear voices inside. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Five people were sitting around the table, including the man I had come to confront. My hands trembled as I stepped into the room.

“You wanted to see me?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes were fixed on him, and I could feel his gaze burning into me. The room was silent, and I could feel the tension mounting.

“Here,” he said, his voice harsh and commanding. He thrust a bundle of clothes at me, and I caught them with trembling hands. “Wear this. Now.” I could feel his eyes burning into me.

I looked down at the clothes in my hands, my eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you…are you asking me to wear this?” I asked, my voice quivering with shock. The outfit looked like something a stripper would wear, not something a respectable woman would ever be caught dead in. I couldn’t believe he would ask me to wear such a thing.

“I’m sure you heard me correctly,” he said, his voice cold and emotionless. I felt my eyes welling up with tears, but I refused to let them fall. I couldn’t believe I was being put in this position, and I hated that he was making me choose between my dignity and my life. I looked around at the other people in the room, and saw the mocking looks on the faces of the women. I felt sick to my stomach.

“I won’t repeat myself,” he said, his voice hard and final. “Go upstairs and put that on. Then come back here.” I felt my heart sink, but I knew I had no choice. I nodded and turned away, feeling the shame and humiliation wash over me.

“Oh, one more thing, Olivia,” he called out, and I turned back to face him. “You’ll be staying in a different room from now on. My guards will show you where it is.” I felt a knot forming in my stomach as I processed his words.

……………….

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. The clothes were too revealing, and I looked like a cheap tramp. I felt ashamed of the way I looked, and I worried about what people would think of me.

The top review a big part of my boobs standing arrogantly by each other, my stomach is out against the world, the pants show off my butt recklessly the only thing enclosed is my Jericho, the net over the pants leave no detail of my body enclosed, even the birthmark at the back of my butt as a kid was out.

I watched as tears slid down my cheeks, reflecting in the mirror. This isn’t who I am, I thought. I’m not a stripper or a prostitute. I’m a person with feelings and thoughts and dreams.

A loud knock jolted me out of my thoughts. “The boss wants you,” a maid’s voice called from the other side of the door. I heard her footsteps retreating, and I stood there, frozen. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stand the thought of going out there and facing him. But I knew I had to. I took a deep breath and braced myself for what was to come.

With a deep breath, I made my way to the door and grasped the handle. My hand trembled as I turned it and pulled the door open. I stepped through the doorway, pushing myself forward, though every part of me wanted to stay where I was.

With each step I took down the stairs, I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. I kept my head down, not wanting to see the looks of judgment and disgust that I was sure were on their faces. I felt the weight of their stares pressing down on me as I passed by the maids and guards, who seemed to be staring at me from every corner of the building. I was on a journey to my greatest shame, and I didn’t know if I could bear it.

“There you are,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence. I looked up at him, and my heart sank at the smirk on his face. I heard one of his friends murmur, “Gosh, she’s hot.” I wanted to disappear, to run away and hide from the humiliation of their stares. But I knew I couldn’t. I had to face this, no matter how much I wanted to run.

“Go to the bar, and get us some wine,” he ordered, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “I doubt you’ve ever tasted wine before, since you’re so naïve,” he added, a smirk on his face. His friends laughed at my expense, and I felt my cheeks burning with shame.

My trembling hands reached for the wine, gripping it tightly to steady myself. I took a deep breath and began to walk toward the table, my legs feeling like lead. I knew I couldn’t let them see how much this was affecting me, how much it hurt.

I kept my eyes on the floor as I walked toward him, my heart pounding in my chest. I held my breath as I approached him, his glass outstretched. With trembling hands, I poured the wine, my eyes welling up with tears. I dared to raise my gaze, and his eyes were fixed on me, piercing into my soul. He had been watching me the whole time, and I felt exposed, raw, like I had nowhere to hide. I quickly looked away, moving on to the next person, desperate to escape his gaze.

I filled the last glass, of the next person my motions mechanical and devoid of emotion. I turned to leave, but a sudden touch stopped me in my tracks. His hands grabbed me roughly, and I flinched away in shock. His voice whispered in my ear, “You’ve got nice boobs” I felt sick, and a surge of rage and disgust filled me. I pulled away from him, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. My cheeks burned as I struggled to process what had just happened.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” I whispered, my voice shaking with anger and hurt. He laughed, his cruel chuckle grating on my ears.

“You’re nothing but a cheap whore,” he spat, his words like a dagger to my heart. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut, the air knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I just stood there, my whole body shaking.

“Keep serving the guests, Olivia,” my ruthless husband cut, his voice cold and demanding. I stared at him with hurt in my eyes for a moment, my hands trembling, before I turned and walked to the next person.

I looked into the next guest’s eyes, my hands shaking as I poured her drink. “Oops,” I mumbled as the glass slipped from my grasp, spilling the contents onto the floor. “You idiot!” She yelled, her face turning red with anger. Before I could react, a stinging slap came across my face. “Are you crazy?” She snarled, their eyes full of rage.

I stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. Do I retaliate? Do I clean up the mess? I felt like I was in a dream, like nothing was real. Then I heard his voice again, cutting through the fog. “Clean up that mess with your tongue,” he said, his tone hard and commanding. I looked at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. There was no way I was going to do that.

“Didn’t you hear him? Clean it up,” she said, a mocking smile on her lips. I stared at her, my heart racing. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to react. I felt paralyzed, like I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. I was trapped.

“I didn’t drop it, she did!” I stammered, my voice cracking. I was overwhelmed with emotion – fear, anger, shame, sadness. The tears were flowing freely now, and I could barely think straight. I just wanted to get out of there, to escape from this nightmare.

“Do you want your head on a platter, Olivia?” he growled, his words sending a chill down my spine. My eyes darted to the woman, but she just smiled smugly. I sank to my knees, my hands shaking as I reached for the mess on the floor. But before I could touch it, another voice rang out, “Don’t do it!”