Chapter 3.
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"Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain" William Faulkner
He reached, pulling her to her feet once more, shoving her violently into the room and slamming the doors behind them.
Morgan forced herself to her knees quickly, taking only slight notice of the large, grand bedroom.
The fireplace was the only thing that offered any light or warmth in here. "I hope your ready Morgan." Alastor snarled and bent down in front of her, pulling her close and roughly unlocking the handcuffs that had bound her for more than two hours.
Morgan felt tears begin to pool in her eyes, and her body began to shake violently as he grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look up at him.
"The difference this time...just in case you are wondering, my little slave, is that there is no one I have to worry about scolding me for leaving you a bloody mess at the foot of my bed tonight," He spoke softly against her ear, digging his fingertips into her jaw.
"No one will be able to feel anything but pity for you tomorrow when they see the bruises you'll be covered with because you pissed...off...your Master!" He growled, shaking her violently with every pause.
Morgan stared at the carpet with a blank, terrified gaze. He was right. Lord Zachary was not here to save her this time...and there where no specific laws governing how a Master or Mistress could punish their property.
Her stomach churned and she felt as though all the blood in her body was draining from her.
"I can do anything I want to you now, Morgan..." He whispered, kissing her throat.
"What will you do when I'm finished with you tonight Morgan?" Alastor snarled, nipping her ear.
"I...I will...kiss your boots and t...thank you Master..." Morgan spoke softly, beginning to shake violently as he chuckled.
"If you are still conscious...why would I ever do such horrible things to you little one?" He whispered, and Morgan burst into tears at the sound of his belt loosening and being pulled through the loops.
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...Something cracked then...
She could not be sure what it was, or why her small rebellion had taken so long, but well she was brave, Morgan was not willing to think too long on it.
"Because you can...Master..." She breathed, the tears still trailing down her cheeks as she spoke, but no new ones followed at that moment.
When she would think about it later, she would realize that it was the derisive little chuckle he let lose from his lips the moment she replied. That was the breaking point.
Her bundled up little fist flew before her mind had a moment to think about how much bigger Alastor was then her. She had spent a year on the streets fending and defending for herself, and in that time she had learned to hit hard and properly.
The contact from her fist merely sent his head to the side, but when his gaze slowly returned back to her and his hand reached up to touch his lip and see blood, he was on his feet in a moment.
"That was a very stupid move, princess." He spat venomously and before she knew it, his fingers where wrapped painfully in her hair and she was barely able to keep her toes on the ground.
"Take your clothes off. Now!" He hollered. Morgan flinched hard but quickly moved to remove her shirt.
Alastor took it as it came over her head and threw it into the fire...he did the same thing when she pulled the rest of her clothes and shoes off.
"Your underwear as well, Morgan." He snapped when she stared up at him. Her stomach churned...she didn't want to do this...he was going to take everything this night and this was the one last piece of protection she had against it....But it slide down her legs and was thrown into the fire with everything else.
Alastor released her hair, but there was no time for rest. "Down, down, down! Knees goddammit!" He shouted as Morgan tried to quickly obey him. Morgan felt something sharp collide with her side as his boot came down hard.
She yelped as the pain spread through her, but when the smack of the belt could be felt on her back, instinctively, she went quiet.
"That's it, be quiet and take what you have coming." Alastor snarled. He was going to make her scream tonight, he decided. Her silence, though welcomed a year ago, seemed more like a challenge to him now.
"Don't you ever...fucking runaway...from me...again!" Morgan bit into her lip hard, not bothering to let up when the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
"Disrespectful little bitch! God fucking help you if you ever embarrass me like that again!" As his angry yell filled the room, it was quickly drowned out by an uncountable number of blows that landed on her back.
He had never screamed at her like this...and he had never beat her like this. She could not hold back her own scream when the belt came down on her for what seemed like the thousandth time.
He was aiming everywhere, no matter how she tried to squirm from it, the singing fire in the blows was impossible to avoid. She had never cried, or begged him to stop before...but she did this time.
"Please! Please! I'm sorry Master! I...ow!" She sobbed, trying to scramble away from him as the belt hit hard between her shoulder blades.
His hand curled in her hair once more as he lifted her to her feet, laughing at Morgan's attempt to recoil and hide from him when he lifted the back of the hand that held that belt and let it fly viciously.
"Look at that Morgan! Your Master can hit too...and much harder than you could ever hope to...just remember that next time you are feeling tough." He snarled, and threw her over the side of the bed.
"No! Please, please, please! Master no!" Morgan groaned in a half dazed voice, dropping her hands in an attempt to hide her backside from the belt.
"Don't you fucking beg me now. This is just the beginning, Morgan." Alastor's voice was calmer...but still filled with an anger she had never heard before.
He lifted the belt and struck her hands hard, producing the desired effect when she screamed and moved them.
The lashes began to land just under the swell of her ass. In that spot he knew she hated. Morgan dug her hands in the sheets and hide her face. She couldn't breath through the sobs now, and he simply kept going and going.
Thirty-five...thirty-six...thiry-seven..." Her voice screamed in her head.
