So, at this point, everyone knows that I was forced to remove Lemon Island and its mature content due to the Eliminator Forum vicious attacking and trolling me. I'm going to move ALL my mature stories to a new website. If you're just as sick of this as I am, please join our cause to bring freedom back to Fanfiction!

Avenger Forum link, remove spaces and *: www. fanfiction. n*e*t /forum/Avenger/119079 (All information can be found in the Supporter forum.)

The Rebellion Forum link, remove spaces and *: www. fanfiction. n*e*t /forum/The-Rebellion/114259/ (Most forums are banding together here.)

Petition for an MA rating link, remove spaces and *: www. change. o*r*g /petitions/fanfiction-net-we-want-fanfiction-to-create-a-ma-rating

…

Anyway, I have MOVED this story COMPLETELY to another site. You can find this STORY and all its subsequent UPDATES here: h*t*t*p*:/archiveofourown. o*r*g /works/709324/chapters/1310746

I have the same penname there as I do here: ParadiseAvenger

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There was a bloody stick wrapped in an old cloth and tucked beneath the ratty mattress. On the sagging mattress in the dark basement was a filthy pillow and a threadbare blanket. There was writing on the walls—smeary and bloody, tormented hidden words from a lost forgotten soul… if a soul could even survive in such a hated abused body. The faucet in the bathroom was dripping water and grime. Suddenly, the bare bulb overhead flicked on, banishing the darkness and roaches and rats. The flickering illumination revealed the blood-written words in ghastly relief. A smattering here, a crossing out there, a handprint in blood where in his weakness he had fallen into the wall, the smear of his beaten face where it had struck the white paint. At the base of the wall, like a used and broken toy just thrown away, lay the servant boy as a testimony to those bloody confessions and words.

I have never known happiness or love or friendship. I have never felt kindness or a soft touch. I am not to speak or to eat or to do anything without being told. I am no better than an insect, than dirt or a worm that crawls on its belly. I am unclean inside, dirty and filthy and used… A long time ago, before I came here to this big handsome house, I lived with a man who loved me like a woman. He didn't love my mother. He loved me. He came to me at night and lay with me in my bed and made me unclean in the small hours of the morning when my mother slept through my cries. I don't know how she found out about him because I never said anything and he was careful, but by the time I was eight I was taken away. I was fostered like an unwanted puppy, passed from house to house. After a while, people stopped loving me or even pretending to love me. They just hurt me until I was sold again. Then, I came here to my uncle's lavish mansion. I can't say it's better, but I've been through worse. I used to have wishes and dreams… to fly, to be a policeman and save people, to love… but I know that I'm not worth any of that, not now, not anymore… not after everything that's happened…

I am fourteen.

My name is… but the name was smeared out by a bloody handprint.

…

Mrs. Hart helped her beautiful daughter tighten her corset and slip into the soft creamy silk gown that she had chosen from her small closet, but devoted most of her attention on trying not to cry. She bit her lip hard when her daughter stepped away from her to smooth the silk of the gown over her stunning curves in front of the full-length mirror. Then, she touched her daughter's silky rose tresses and pulled them back from her face with two small pearl combs.

"Oh, honey," Mrs. Hart whispered.

Kairi turned to face her mother, swallowing her fear and pride to put on a brave face. "I'll be okay, Mom," she said softly.

"I just wish you didn't have to do this, sweetheart," Mrs. Hart whispered and gently cupped her face.

Kairi pulled away from her mother and turned back to her reflection in the mirror. She touched her flat stomach, her sharp hips, her pulled-back hair, her face, her lips and her half-lidded eyes and her soft cheeks. "Do I look pretty, Mom?"

"You always do, sweetheart," she said, but thought, I just wish it wasn't for someone else. Her eyes filled and she turned sharply away from Kairi before she could see, dabbing at her watering eyes with the linen hanky she kept in her sleeve.

Kairi walked over to the bed, skirts swishing on the floor. She shrugged into her favorite fur-lined cloak and picked up her small suitcase. Her hands looked so small and white wrapped around the big handle and she smiled hesitantly at her mother. "Walk me to the carriage?"

"Of course, baby," Mrs. Hart forced out. She watched her daughter walking, narrow hips not-yet-meant-for-childbearing swaying as she walked, hair brushing against her lower back, cloak and skirt trailing on the cold tile. She listened to her light footsteps and a knot in it the size of a baseball began to form in her throat, choking her.

The footman opened the door of the carriage for Kairi and put her suitcase inside for her without a word. Kairi turned, hugged her mother tightly, and then climbed into the carriage. As it pulled away, her face looked small and white and very afraid. Mrs. Hart waved, trying to keep her smile in place until Kairi was out of sight. Then, she allowed herself to break down crying.

…

The Masterson Mansion was a big imposing structure perched high on the cliffs above the slate-grey churning sea. It was all dark-stained wood and huge picture windows that looked out over the sea and big spanning decks with pretty wicker furniture with fluffy dark-colored cushions and candy-striped dark umbrellas. There was a small similarly styled boathouse and along dock at the end of a winding path that led to a private beach with a long strip of perfect white sand. Both had an incredible view of the distant white-and-red lighthouse.

At the front door, standing beneath the formidable brass lion's head doorknocker, was a distinguished elderly gentlemen dressed in a three-piece suit with a dark burgundy tie that matched Kairi's red hair. At first glance, Kairi thought it was the butler, but he took her hand eagerly and kissed the back of it.

"Kairi, my dear, I am Vladimir Masterson."

Her heart stuck in her throat. "Y-you're Vlad," she whispered.

"Oh, yes." He took in the whiteness of her face and patted her hand gently. "My dear, were you expecting someone younger?"

She had been. This man had to be three times her sixteen years. He was old enough to be her father and he was to be her… husband! She wet her lips and swallowed before finally finding her voice. "No, I was just surprised by how," she hesitated, "handsome you are."

He smiled, all crooked sparkling white teeth, and led her into the dark beautiful house. The entire house was lavish, thick Persian carpets on the floors and austere portraits of the old family on the walls and China cabinets filled with treasures from the far-off worlds. Everything was stunning and exquisite and expensive, like stepping into a box of fine chocolates. Servants bustled out to the carriage, fetching Kairi's meager suitcase. When the door closed over behind her and cut off the dim sunlight reaching into the dark recesses of the hallway, she felt as if her life was about to end, but it was far from over.

"So, Vlad, when are we to be wed?" Kairi asked, feeling his thin bony arm beneath her hand as he led her on a tour of the house.

"Oh, this afternoon at five," he said with a small wave of his hand. "I have a grand dinner planned for the reception. I'm sure it will seem like a dream to you."

"This afternoon?" Kairi repeated, feeling a little faint.

"Yes, of course. I'm very eager to begin our lives together."

"But I… have no dress."

"I had one specially made for you, my dear."

Then, he led her to what was to be their chambers. There was a masculine canopy bed taking up most of the room, draped with heavy velvet curtains, and a few beautifully carved dressers. There was one big picture window that looked out over the blue ocean and the distant lighthouse. Spread across the bed was a beautiful white silk wedding gown that Kairi touched gingerly with her fingertips. It laced up the back and she wouldn't be able to get into it by herself. The thought of her husband-to-be helping her dress made her blood run cold.

"Um, it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding," Kairi whispered. Considering he had already seen her, it was a desperate attempt.

"Oh, I know, my dear," Vlad said and smiled. "I have a servant who will help you dress. I will see you soon, my love." Then, he left the room and she could hear him calling down the hall.

It took everything Kairi had not to put her face into the silk of this wedding dress and sob, but she managed to keep it together. After all, her betrothal was to save her family. Her father had been killed in the war and her mother needed the money Kairi's marriage to Vlad Masterson would bring. Her sacrifice would save her mother and her little brothers. She forced herself to stand up and took a deep breath into her lungs, pushing the tears away, and swallowing the knot in her throat.

The servant that came to help her dress was an elderly woman with her dense steel-grey hair pulled back into a low bun at the base of her neck. She had rough but expert fingers, as if she had been dressing Kairi forever. Within minutes, she had Kairi laced neatly into her wedding gown and then left her to do her own hair and soft makeup.

"Darling, are you ready?" Vlad called.

Kairi didn't look at herself in the mirror. She didn't want the image of herself on her wedding day burned into her mind.

"You look so beautiful," Vlad said when she stepped through the threshold. He leaned forward and tried to kiss her—maybe her cheek, maybe her mouth—but either way, she put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him away. Surprisingly, he did allow her to and took her hand to lead her down the hall. "Come now. We must get to the chapel."

Kairi couldn't speak, so she just nodded and lifted her skirts so she could walk down the steps easily. They walked through the exquisite foyer and Kairi's heels tapped on the tile floor. There was a slender servant kneeling on the floor in the corner, scrubbing away. Kairi thought the floor looked bloody and red, but she didn't pay it that much mind. She had bigger problems than the state of the floor.

…

The chapel was beautiful, she supposed. It had so many stained glass windows that she felt as if she was in a world of candy. Vlad had ordered a lot of sweet-scented lilacs that adorned each of the pews in big white-ribbon adorned bunches. The priest was handsome with silvery hair and green eyes and a soft kind face and he had a nice relaxing voice that calmed her churning stomach even as he read the condemning vows. She felt beautiful. Actually, her gown was beautiful. Vlad had exquisite tastes.

"Do you take this man to be your husband?"

"I do…" Kairi whispered and it was almost without a thought. She felt as if she was trapped in a strange beautiful dream.

Vlad smiled and leaned in to kiss her. His lips were dry and cracked like old parchment, but he smelled wonderful. Maybe he was like a finely aged wine, Kairi thought to herself as he kissed her. Dusty and outwardly unappealing, but sweet and worth it on the inside.

…

As he had said earlier, the dinner he had laid out for the reception was like a dream to her, even more so than the wedding had been. It was a candlelit dinner for two with several small courses of foods Kairi couldn't even begin to describe. Then, he had a tray of desserts brought out just for Kairi as he couldn't ingest too much sugar. She eagerly tasted some of the Death-by-Chocolate cake with the rich swirled icing. Everything was delicious and Kairi was intoxicated on everything she had seen this afternoon.

Vlad gently took her hand, waving at some servants that were standing in the shadows to begin to clear the table, and led her to their chambers. There, he began to undress her from her wedding gown and corset. In only her panties, Kairi finally realized what he was planning to do with her… tonight!

"No!" she gasped out and clutched her gown to her naked chest. "Please, I'm not ready."

Vlad stared at her, eyes glowing in the dimness of his bedroom. "My girl, you are my wife now."

"I know, but please, will you give me tonight?"

He sighed. "Alright, I will give you tonight." Then, wordlessly, he stripped naked and crawled into his bed.

Kairi stood there, clutching her dress and shivering desperately. What should she do? Get into bed with him, dressed or naked? Sleep on the floor?

"I won't do anything to you, just come to bed," he said suddenly. His voice rang through the silence, startling her.

Kairi carefully laid the gown on one of the dressers and then slipped between the silk sheets. She felt vulnerable, naked except for her panties. Vlad didn't touch her, but she feared he would. Finally, she fell asleep, but she woke once in the middle of the night. Unsure what had woken her, she clutched the sheets to her bare chest and looked around the room. Vlad wasn't in bed and the sheets where he had been lying were cool. She laid back against the pillows, staring out the window at the silvery moon hanging over the sea. A few times, she thought she heard someone crying out, but the sound was scant and far apart. She didn't get up to investigate and soon feel asleep again.

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And I removed the original mature content that continued from that point due to the trolls. Please join the cause to bring maturity to Fanfiction again. Or read this story and all its updates in its original version on Archive of Our Own.

Please check out my ORIGINAL NOVEL, The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.