A/N: of course you already know that all the characters from the Twilight saga belong to the admirable Stephenie Meyer. However, what they do in this smutty fiction is the product of my wild imagination. Thank you so much for all your reviews, dear readers. See, it made me write a chapter in less than a week! Enjoy!
Chapter 11
Bella's punishment
BPOV
The last sentence spoken by the Greek god who had just grabbed my arm and was dragging me back to the women's quarters was stuck in my mind. "…I can already tell that you need some breaking…" Ten minutes earlier I hadn't been aware of this angelic-looking man's existence, and now he had the nerve to speak to me as if he'd known me forever. But what was more upsetting was the fact that his words were only insults. Did I resemble a wild beast such that someone could make that type of comment about me?
His iron grasp hurt as he pulled me, and I realized that I had strayed very far during my exploration. Since I was forced to almost run so I could keep up with him and not have my arm torn off, the journey back took a lot less time. Soon I saw the secluded door that led to the harem just a few feet ahead of us. However, to my surprise, this man who claimed to be Emmett's brother suddenly came to a halt before we'd reached the door. I noticed an opening in the wall; it gave access to a stairway that went spiraling deep underground, or so it seemed.
The comte de Morvalle held my arm even tighter, if it was possible, and started descending the narrow and slippery steps. It was only then that I realized how humid and cold the surroundings were. It was clear that I was not dressed warmly enough for wherever we were headed but I wisely suppressed a snappy comment to that effect. Instead, I tried to watch my footing and remarked, "I thought you were taking me back to the seraglio, Mister de Morvalle."
"Didn't I just tell you that you need to be broken, you little arrogant aristocrat?" the slave tamer replied dryly, as if I had spoken nonsense. "I'd rather you shut up, but if you want to talk, you can start by explaining how you got that horrendous mark on your face."
I answered without thinking, because I needed to direct my anger at my loss of freedom toward someone, "A tall blond guy named Jasper Whitlock punched me."
I saw Edward frown at my words, and I felt like I'd said something stupid. Or maybe the women here, in addition to being treated like objects, were not supposed to talk outside of the harem?
"Is that so? Jasper doesn't usually damage the merchandise, though," he stated with discontent, looking at me more attentively as if he couldn't comprehend how a girl apparently so harmless had pushed a man to the point of committing an act of violence.
But of course, the young nobleman by my side had no idea I tried to end my life during the trip that had led us all here.
"I don't know about your friend Jasper's habits, except for the fact that he's a bastard who doesn't respect women. But then again, maybe he'd rather see me disfigured as opposed to dead after my umpteenth attempt to break my neck by jumping from the cart. And believe me, I would have made it happen in the end," I retorted impetuously.
We continued to descend the stairs and found ourselves in front of a door in a passageway even gloomier than the one upstairs. Edward kept silent for several minutes, lost in what seemed to be unhappy thoughts. He stood still but stared at me once again with his hypnotic green eyes.
"You just arrived in Volterra a couple of hours ago, and you already broke the rules twice, marquise," he explained with a cold voice that matched the ambience of our surroundings perfectly. "And if you keep on talking to me with that impudent tone of yours, I might decide that you deserve to be punished more severely."
I couldn't take my eyes off his face. How could a man with such a spectacular body and stunning features be so detached and cruel? I wasn't stupid: I knew something pretty bad was about to happen to me. Christ, he kept implying my behavior was unacceptable… but how exactly did all the women in the harem behave? I hadn't been there long enough to notice. And for heaven's sake, what were those rules I had violated? No one had told me about any rules I had to follow. I had only been vaguely enlightened about what was expected of me here.
Since I had nothing to lose anymore, I decided to push the malefic angel's patience to the limit. His last remark was ridiculous anyway, so I burst into a cynical laugh before replying, "Is that so? You don't think your friend did a good enough job with the damages he inflicted on my face? I'm going to be punished for having failed to obey rules I didn't even know existed before you mentioned them?"
The man ignored my question but it was clear he was getting aggravated. He opened the door and pushed me inside the room so forcefully that I was propelled far from the entrance. There was nothing to stop me, so I ended up losing my balance and collapsing on the hard stone floor. Before my fall, I had time to glimpse around; what I saw was no incentive for me to stand up. I wasn't exactly in a torture chamber, but I wasn't in a boudoir either. There was a huge bed at the far end of the room, but there was also a strange bench facing a support to which a pair of fetters was fixed. In fact, there were shackles and chains everywhere in the room, hanging from the ceiling or hooked to the walls. There was also a table covered with animal skin, a big X-shaped cross adorning one of the walls, some dressers and closets and plenty of cushions on the ground, mind you, except where I had fallen.
Still a little shaken, I saw the cruel angel rushing toward me and offering his hand to help me stand up. Given the situation, his gesture was utterly puzzling. "I'm already down, comte de Morvalle. Why not take this opportunity to finish what Jasper started earlier? I think there are still some spots of my body that have been left intact after his savage assault," I said sarcastically.
Physically, there was nothing I could do to defend myself against this man who claimed I needed to be disciplined like a circus animal. However, I could still use my voice to convey all the bitterness I felt at the moment. Truthfully, seeing the expression on his face when I defied him made me happy to be alive. He looked both infuriated and dejected. My reply didn't stop him from bending down toward me, though.
"Believe me, pretty face, part of me so wants to finish what Jasper started so you won't dare defy anyone anymore. But the Volturi would be very unhappy if I left permanent marks on their property."
And then he grabbed me at the waist, put me across his back and promptly stood up. I took advantage of my position to hit him in the shoulder blades with my fists even though it was completely futile.
"I don't know what you intend to do with me, Mr. Cullen, but be aware that it will serve no purpose, except maybe preventing me from sleeping tonight," I said, trying to irritate him further.
But my comment didn't make him react like I expected. He just shrugged while heading toward the ominous-looking bench.
"You'd better get used to sleepless nights, because that's what's coming around for you with the Volturi," Edward told me as he put me down next to the peculiar piece of furniture. He then forced me to kneel on the large edge of the stand and to lean against an inclined cushioned surface too short to support my head. Jeez, one certainly couldn't 'sit' on that bench for very long…
I also realized that the position I assumed allowed for my backside to be prominently displayed. Shit. Edward's intent was becoming pretty clear: he was about to abuse my bottom in some way, and I was powerless to stop it because he had put my arms over my head and shackled my wrists. To add more humiliation to this posture, I felt the man's hands on my hips, slowly pulling my skirt down to expose my buttocks. I flushed scarlet. How could this be happening to me? What did I do to deserve such mistreatment?
I lowered my head to hide my panic. Never in my life had I been put in such a shameful and embarrassing position. And the worst was yet to come…
"Spread your knees, and don't you dare move afterward or else your punishment will last longer," he ordered.
I did what he asked, knowing full well that it would expose me more. I was young and innocent all right, but not as much as I used to be, and it was easy to guess that Edward was getting aroused by the sight of my bare rear.
"Are you at least going to tell me about those two rules I didn't abide by? Or do you prefer to keep me in the dark so you can continue to abuse me with impunity?" I asked, trying to look more composed than I truly was.
"The strokes you're going to receive are the standard punishment any slave who is caught outside of the harem must expect. And since you played with Jasper's nerves, I have something else for you. To my knowledge, you're the only woman he ever raised a hand to. Usually he keeps his punishment for the workforce he's in charge of," the comte explained.
His voice was suddenly hoarser, and I began to feel nervous on top of everything else. Right now I was totally at his mercy, and I wondered what latitude he had with the slaves he was in charge of taming. I understood that the lords of Volterra were not tender with their slaves, although I wasn't sure what this meant exactly. However, I didn't know what Edward was allowed to do with us. Maybe he had carte blanche and could rape me if that's what he felt like doing.
He went to get something in one of the dressers and came back to show me what he was holding. Crap. It was a riding crop, the type I sometimes used during my horseback rides. So it was true: I was going to be treated like an animal.
He returned to the other side of the bench and I swore I could feel his gaze on my bottom. "So, Miss Swan, do you still feel proud and defiant while I have you in this posture, totally at my disposal, able to do whatever I want with your tantalizing rump?" Edward asked, obviously enjoying the mere anticipation of what he was going to do to my ass.
I didn't know if he expected an answer, but I did anyway. "Go to hell!" I spat with all the hatred I could gather in my voice.
Ironically, I felt like I was already in hell. The next second Edward was in front of me again, removing a handkerchief from his pocket to put it on my mouth. What the heck? The guy was willing to beat me up but he didn't want to hear me scream if the pain became too unbearable? Where was the logic in that? But then again, it would be better for me to bite down on the damn cloth to avoid making sounds, and so that's what I did when Edward turned his back on me.
"I'm going to administer ten strokes to your bottom, Isabella. It's not much, you know, compared to the thirty blows the male slaves receive on their backs when they try to escape. In fact, you're very lucky that your masters fixed the number so low. If it was my decision, I'd give you at least twenty-five strokes with this riding crop."
I didn't give a damn about the treatment reserved for the Volturi's male slaves. I wanted Edward Cullen de Morvalle to be done with me so I could go back to my nanny and my girlfriends. But then I remembered that Jacob had become one of the Volturi's slaves. Lord, let's hope he wouldn't try to run off. I was still thinking of my best friend when the first stroke of the riding crop hit across my buttocks with a sharp noise. It felt like a second degree burn and my body contracted under the pain. Another blow hit my right buttock a few seconds later, and the pain intensified because my skin was now wounded in two different places. After the third stroke, which hit my left buttock, Edward stopped momentarily, but only to check if I was reacting according to his expectations. Christ, I didn't want to interact with this monster ever again.
I closed my eyes and bit down even harder on the handkerchief. The strokes resumed, causing so much discomfort that I lost count, and tears of rage ran down my cheeks. Then, after another pause, I felt Edward's hand softly brushing the areas that were on fire, and I couldn't repress a wince. So much for trying to stay still… I didn't want to give my tormentor an excuse to keep on abusing me any longer. I was also terribly frustrated that his touch made me react like this. I felt so much scorn toward the comte de Morvalle that I wanted to disfigure him. His boldness in caressing me made me hate him even more. My legs were free and I could have put my foot in his face as a means of revenge, but I was afraid I would lose my balance. Besides, I was hurting too much. However, sooner or later I would find a way to make this filthy bastard pay for his unspeakable conduct.
"Stay still if you want to be able to sit on your ravishing posterior any time soon, Isabella," he said like he was addressing a five-year old who had just committed an offense.
So he wanted me to be still? Fine, then. I would give him statue-like stillness. From that moment on, I decided to not react at all, and to pretend I had left my body. In addition, this would help me to forget a little about the pain that was truly unbearable at this point. He administered two last strokes, and maybe it was because I was suffering so much that my senses were numb, but it seemed that he wasn't hitting me with as much vigor as before. When I saw him spring up in front of me after dropping his instrument of torture, he appeared to be relieved somehow that he was finished. I had reopened my eyes because I wanted him to see how bad I felt. And mad, too. He unshackled my wrists but I left my arms where they were, above my head. He removed my gag and only then did he take the time to stare at me. The hate I felt for him must have been obvious in the look I shot him, for he turned his head almost immediately.
"Come with me," he said in a deceptively velvety voice.
I lowered my head. If Edward Cullen intended to inflict more pain upon me, he would address a statue. I wouldn't give him another occasion to enjoy watching me suffer under his power. The Volturi couldn't be worse than this man! He was even more disgusting than Jasper Whitlock, who was violent but hadn't touched me inappropriately.
"I'm going to take you in my arms and to the bed over there so I can treat your wounds, okay?" he asked when I didn't answer to his first request.
How could Edward even imagine that I would answer him after what he had done to me? He took my arms down and I realized I couldn't have done it myself anyway; I couldn't feel my upper limbs anymore. He then made me stand to pull my skirt up and finally he lifted me and carried me to the bed. Had he put me there to only treat my injuries? I rested against the head of the bed and watched him while he looked for something in a drawer. He came back with a small ointment container.
He must have understood it was useless to give me orders, for he lay me down on my left side and lifted my skirt up to my waist, exposing my buttocks once again. Damned pervert! There were so many women living in the harem, surely Edward had plenty of opportunities to feast his eyes on their attributes. So what was it with my ass that had him so amazed? I was so ordinary and plain when compared to Rosalie or even Kate.
My persecutor started to apply some cream on my burning skin, instantly provoking a sensation of coolness that made the pain more bearable. It took only a few seconds for me to feel much better. In fact, I could have fallen asleep right then and there: I was exhausted. But instead of leaving me alone after he finished applying the ointment, Edward began to massage my sensitive skin to make the cream penetrate, and I involuntarily squirmed again. Shit, I was trying to pretend I was made of marble, yet my body was betraying me in the most humiliating fashion! How was I going to manage it when my heart was already beating faster?
My God, please, have mercy on me.
I was so stupid to think that I could anger Edward. He knew exactly what he was doing, the son of a bitch! He had clearly decided to test me. At first his massage was innocent enough since it was true that my buttocks needed to be treated after the horrible thrashing I had received. But after a while, the situation spiced up. I closed my eyes to forget where I was and who was touching me, but I could feel everything nonetheless. Edward changed my position in the bed and soon I found myself in the center, lying flat on my stomach. I was still holding on fairly well, all things considered.
And then what I dreaded happened. Edward started to undress me entirely. This was much more compromising because I knew some signs would prove I wasn't as indifferent to Edward's ministrations as I wanted to be. It was one thing to get aroused by my friend Jacob's caresses, or even by the eunuch who had bathed me. However, it was another thing entirely to react so positively under the care of a man with no scruples who found enjoyment in beating the crap out of vulnerable female slaves. And that was exactly what was going to happen if I did nothing; I was going to fall apart in his hands. But if I said something, I'd make him the winner of this wicked game.
While I was musing on my desperate situation, the slave tamer had managed to strip me of my light tunic. In fact, the clothing was so light I didn't notice a temperature change when it was removed. I had noticed there was a fireplace in the room; consequently, it wasn't cold inside like it was in the hallway.
"I should warn you right away that two can play this little game of yours, marquise. And I'm sure that I will be able to induce a reaction from you in under ten minutes," the young nobleman stated smugly.
Truth be told, I was sure he would achieve his goal in less than five minutes. But all the same, it would allow me to test my limits. This time, Edward pulled my skirt all the way down and too soon I was lying entirely naked on the bed quilt. I wasn't going to move, even if I wanted to hide my face that showed my embarrassment. He couldn't see it for the moment anyway, because I was still on my stomach, purposely squishing my face against the comforter. I let him take my arms and place them perpendicular to my torso. Then he began to massage my upper back, starting with my shoulders and shoulder blades. I had to admit that he was good at what he was doing, working my muscles to make me relax, moving slowly down my spine, never applying too much pressure. I quivered when I felt Edward's fingers stroking each side of my waist as if he wanted to assess its slenderness. Then his hands wandered on my hips, causing a succession of ecstatic shivers throughout my body, as well as a sensation of warmth in the pit of my stomach. He continued to apply pressure lower, avoiding the sensitive area of my backside. When he reached my thighs, he slowly spread them apart, and I muffled a little scream of shock.
"So Felix was right," my tormentor said with a husky voice, "you're actually so sensual that you could turn any saint into a sinner."
What? Edward had spoken to the eunuch in charge of my bath? What had he been told? I wanted to disappear, or better yet, to have never been born. I felt like an object right now. And I knew he had a clear view of my private parts all wet from my arousal. I was dismayed.
"You can pretend you are a statue all night long if you want, Isabella, but your body is already betraying you."
And with that being said, he started caressing my inner thighs with a softness and proficiency that led me almost immediately to the edge of an abyss of pleasure. I couldn't understand what was hidden in this region of my body that made me feel so good. If only Jacob had had time to explain, I would understand what was happening to me. But for now, I was at the bursting point of my arousal, even though I hadn't been stimulated directly, and I couldn't stay motionless any longer. It was simply impossible, and even more so with Edward's fingers venturing farther up between my thighs, in an attempt to reach the spot that was craving some friction. I wanted to get rid of the unbearable tension so badly, it was driving me crazy.
When I felt his fingers applying a gentle pressure on the exact area that needed to be touched, I grabbed one of the cushions adorning the bed, turned on my side, and crossed my legs on Edward's fingers. The next second I was drifting on a wave of inexpressible pleasure… and I wanted to kill myself for failing so miserably. Climaxing at the hand of a man I loathed… could there be something worse waiting for me in the near future? I seriously doubted it.
If Edward Cullen, comte de Morvalle, thought I was going to let him win so easily, he didn't know what I was capable of. The game was far from over. Once I could breathe normally again, I sat and backed as far away from Edward as I could, still holding the cushion on my chest to cover my breasts.
"You dirty swine!" I hissed.
How I wished I could assault him and scratch his flawless face with my nails. Unfortunately, I felt utterly powerless and humbled without my clothes.
"Give me my clothes back and let me return to my friends. They must be worried sick not knowing what became of me…" I went on, trying to calm down.
"You don't need to be concerned about your friends, Miss de Courville. Felix passed the message to Jane that I went looking for you when you left the harem," Edward replied on a neutral tone, like we were having a conversation in my boudoir.
The situation was becoming ridiculous. I was fantasizing about strangling the guy sitting at the other end of the bed, while he was addressing me in the most courteous fashion.
Asshole.
"I don't give a damn about your smart mouth, Miss Swan," he went on with his velvety voice, "but I hope you'll listen to me when I tell you that the Volturi won't tolerate those excesses of rebellion when you are summoned to their quarters."
Yet another comment that made me burst into a sarcastic laugh.
"And I don't give a damn about what those people tolerate or don't tolerate, Mr. Cullen," I retorted when my temper was under control. "Have you forgotten that I'm here against my will, by any chance?"
"I think you didn't grasp what I meant, mademoiselle la marquise. The Volturi will make you pay dearly your rebellious character. These are men without morals and utterly depraved. I'm trying to help, here, by warning you about what to expect of them…"
Jeez, the comte de Morvalle was not only a bag of dirt, he was also an imbecile the likes of which I had not come across in my nineteen years.
"Monsieur le comte," I cut him off, "you are a man without morals yourself, not to mention that you are also quite depraved. So I'm having a hard time understanding what else could happen to me in the company of these men, other than what I went through among your instruments of torture."
Was he going to give me my clothes back or did I have to beg him on my knees?
"Something tells me you are totally inexperienced, Isabella. Am I wrong?" he asked.
I didn't know what he was referring to.
"I will answer that question once I have some clothes on," I replied swiftly.
"If I were your master, marquise, you'd spend the rest of your days naked, with only a brand to remind you who you belong to, and I'd spend as long as it takes to have you compliant to all my fancies," he stated arrogantly.
He bent down to grab something on the floor and next he was throwing the tunic and skirt across the bed.
"What does my inexperience have to do with this conversation?" I asked while putting on the two pieces of my ensemble.
"I'm going to explain it, this way I won't feel responsible if something bad does happen to you when you are upstairs with your masters," he said without elaborating.
Did he make me nervous on purpose?
"What are you talking about, exactly, Mr. Cullen?"
"You called me names earlier. Maybe I should let you discover by yourself what would happen with the lords of Volterra if I were the monster you think I am, Isabella," Edward went on.
Oh! I saw where the impudent man was going. He wanted my apologies in exchange of his information. Too bad, then. I would face the Volturi without knowing more, that's it. I stood up and walked toward the door.
"I'm not done with your punishment, Isabella," he said, realizing that I intended to leave the chamber.
"Seriously? You made me climax without my consent, Mr. de Morvalle. How is that for a punishment? I think it's a form of retribution that's worth any other, given the circumstances," I replied, holding his intense green gaze.
"Touché, Miss de Courville. And I assume it would be vain to wait for you to apologize for all the insults you threw at my face, wouldn't it?"
"You should try to walk in my shoes, Edward," I justified myself.
I had called him Edward when he was beginning to show more respect toward me. This place was playing tricks on me. I didn't know how to behave anymore. Shit.
"All right, I will try to delay your introduction to the Volturi as much as I can, Isabella, because you are unspoiled, and those bastards could hurt you badly," the comte explained. "But understand this: had I had no morals, the first thing I would have done, precisely, is to deflower you without your consent."
Was it so obvious that I was a virgin? I had to find out.
"I'm confused," I said with hesitation. "How can you tell I'm still intact?"
Edward stared at me for a while, and a slight crooked smile appeared on his striking but serious face.
"There is something about you, Isabella. It's hard to describe. You're not exactly shy, but you're naïve, innocent. You're the opposite of experienced. You see, young women who have a bit of knowledge and practice are willing to do a lot of things… well, the ones I've met, anyway. Believe it or not, all the slaves I've trained wanted to be taken as soon as they entered this room…"
I frowned, clearly perplexed.
"Whereas you, Isabella, are so fresh you don't even know the vocabulary to express yourself on the subject, except maybe for one or two words," he continued, smiling a little wider. "I will ask Kate if she can give you an education in matter of sexuality. If you agree, of course."
Honestly, I felt like a retard. And I hated to be addressed so condescendingly.
"My friend Rosalie, the duchesse d'Essanges, has already started to tip me off," I replied, annoyed.
"I'm going to take you back to the seraglio, then. You need to rest and to feed yourself. I'll ask Jane to check on you and she'll tell me if you don't eat sufficiently." Edward concluded.
I was definitely being patronized, but all the same, I had the impression I was not with the same man than before, the one who had been so vile with me an hour earlier. He escorted me to the ground floor, where the harem was located. Once I was back inside the women's quarters, I saw another beautiful blond woman coming to Edward and departing with him. I didn't know this girl, and yet I felt my heart sting watching her going away with the comte. She seemed to know him very well…
"You don't want to trade your place with Tanya's tonight, trust me," I heard a voice state behind me.
I turned and saw Kate coming out of the dormitory. Nothing went unnoticed with this slave.
"Why not?" I asked innocently.
"Because this girl is going to serve as a sex toy for the three Volturi all at once, marquise. And she will have to stay awake all night long," Kate answered matter-of-factly.
And what if the Volturi were indeed decadent and dangerous? How much time did I have ahead of me before facing them?
It was probably later than I thought, for I found Alice and Rosalie deeply asleep when I joined them in the gigantic dormitory. Esme wasn't there anymore; she had been relocated in the apartment assigned for the slaves working in the kitchens.
During the night, I slept poorly and dreamt of the Volturi. They wanted to push me through a window because I had refused to be branded with a burning poker.
As always this story wouldn't be what it is without the precious help of my beta Just4ALE.
