The driver, or who actually is Widowmaker's most trusted butler placed her belongings some were she was supposedly going to sleep. They were standing in a living room, it was late, but Widowmaker had a few things to go through with her about her stay.
Widowmaker was layering her speech in elegance and thick French accent. "Since you are going to stay in my living quarters, lets go through some ground rules shall we?"
Tracer knew she was a brute and a vulgar woman, all this class was mere pretend, or maybe she was a insane mix of the two.
Widowmaker started her initiation of Tracer. Her voice was stern and serious. If a stance could intimidate, it was hers.
" 1. Never disrespect me.
2. You must obey all my commands.
3. You shall address me only as Mistress.
4. You shall ask for permission for any act while in my presence.
5. You are only allowed to talk specific and explicit.
6. All your choices shall be made to please me.
7. You will wear whatever I have prepared for you, at any given time.
8. You are not allowed to touch yourself, your sex or otherwise.
9. You are not allowed to have any kind of sex unless given permission.
10. As long as you are here, you are my property, my slave, do not think greater of yourself."
"You will get food and shelter in return. Understood Cherié?" Her hands were on her hips, standing tall above the petite girl.
It was all rather sudden to Tracer. Could she even remember it all? And no touching herself, what the bloody hell, she had to go around horny all the time? She rolled her eyes, "yes" though she could probably just lie about that one.
"Stop." Widowmaker's said curtly.
Tracers legs gave in as her body jerked in shock, the collar was pumping high voltages into her body sending her to her knees, shrieking. She was grasping her neck gasping and clawing, her body still spasms occasionally seconds later.
Widowmakers arms were folded, clearly displeased. "That is the lightest of four power settings you may receive for disobedience. Understood Cherié?"
"Yes, Mistress..." She is still on the floor, it didn't hurt for long, but it was like an intense buzzing feeling in her body. It effectively made her lose control of her muscles and at the same time contracted them painfully. There is no pain afterwards, save a tiny residual ache, like an itch.
She REALLY didn't want Widowmaker to repeat that word, it wasn't the least bit pleasant. The next time Widowmaker opened her mouth Tracer flinched expecting a new shock.
She clapped her hands twice, . "Good, seems like we are finally in an agreement. You can wander the gardens freely, but you cannot exit any of the fences. Doing so the collar will give you repeated shocks of the second grade till you are either dead, or back inside the mansion grounds. One each twenty seconds."
The mansion gardens were huge though, it took five minutes to drive through it from the front, and its still stretched out beyond.
"If you receive a normal shock at any given time without my presence, it means I'm calling on you to return. Understood?"
"Yes Mistress. How can I please help you never do that again?" Lowering her head just in case, she finally sorta had it. Tracer had played this game with her before, be good get praise, be bad and receive corrective punishment. Bad meant a lot of things though, this was going to be like stepping into a minefield.
"You are such a sweet girl" Widowmaker cooed, she was bent over leaning on her knee, lifting Tracers chin glancing into her eyes. There was a tone of sympathy to her voice, but Tracer couldn't really tell because her sinister glare overshadowed everything. "Lets go through, grade two to four, shall we?"
Tracers pupils grew large swallowing the hazel in hey eyes. "No, wait! I'll be good Mistress, I promise, " she had clung to one of Widowmakers legs looking up, pleading her.
Widowmaker patted her head reassuringly, a sincere reasoning tone calming her "I must set some standards Cherié, you must learn consequences"
Tracer whimpered "But I-"
"STOP!" The collar activated and Tracer froze, her reflexes had no time to kick in, intense pain bolted through her. A feminine screech left her mouth as her muscles cramped and she dropped on her back, her nerves seared, Tracer's entire body burning in intense heat. She was shaking uncontrollably on the floor, it was stronger and lasted longer making her head numb.
She was wheezing for air, it had felt like someone took a sledgehammer to her skull and jolted it through the rest of her body. It was gone, but she felt dizzy, her body still tingling. She had to get back up, she had to be strong.
Tracer crawled back up on her knees. Her body occasionally jerked involuntarily. "No more. Please, please have mercy." Squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to be spared from another.
Widowmaker held a hand to her ear "what? I can't hear you."
"Please Mistress... I'll be good" her voice shaky, she bowed laying her head in her arms on the floor. Her breaths were quick an anxious, "I'll be a good girl, Mistress" almost forgetting to address her properly.
Tracer choked as Widowmaker violently hauled her back on her feet by the collar. She clenched on to her shoulders not to lose her footing, and to her surprise Widowmaker held on to her. 'Mercy? For her?' Tears shimmered in Tracers eyes, she stuttered badly, likely because of Widowmakers physical handling "y-ou wo-nt re-gret it Mis-tress, Im-ma be ni-ce."
Widowmaker loved her like this, pleading her like she needed her, did she love the helplessness? Or her frightened and tear filled eyes? Such beautiful expressions on the freckled face she had grown to enjoy. "Shhhh, relax Cherié" She soothed, hugging her tightly. "Can you stand?"
Tracer could, it was fine really. There was aching in her body and numbness in her skull, unpleasant, but fine. "Yes Mistress. Please no more?" She was on her own feet now, her hands tucked to her chest, eyes full of hope. "I will do anything Mistress."
"Didn't I tell you to be specific and explicit? What will you do?" Widowmaker held around her lower waist, her arms were long enough for there to still be a good gap between them. No doubt only to maintain constant eye contact with Tracer.
Tracer blushed, do what? Is that something suggestive? At this moment in time all she wanted to do was to not piss Widowmaker off, or irk her, or be even be visible to her. She was tiptoeing though a lion's den with bells on her neck, hoping not to wake the lions.
It was difficult with Widowmaker looking at her like that. "I will go to bed and be at my best behaviour from tomorrow." Biting her lip didn't help, she felt so small looking back at the woman.
Widowmaker laughed, it was heartily and felt weird to Tracer, she never laughed in any other tone than malicious. "Are you tired? How cute, go on then" she spun Tracer around and slapped her butt as to get her moving.
Tracer skipped, giggling "thanks love", and was halfway through the room when she recalled not being given a sleeping quarter yet. Or even shown properly around. Her brain must have gotten spooked during the shocks. She's about to turn when she hears Widowmaker's voice ring through the air.
"You forgot to address me again, Cherié." A tone so cold it could turn a heart to stone. "Twice."
Tracers turn became a frantic spin "WAIT!" she doesn't hear the activation word, she blacks out immediately from the sensory overload.
The next second she is on the floor, paralysed and shaking violently. Every nerve ending and pain receptor in her body activated simultaneously, telling her brain that every little piece of her being was being fried alive by intense fire.
It lasted long, if she even could remember when it started, or when it ended. She was spasming terribly, her brain didn't recall. Her brain no longer worked.
She was not okey, she was really not okey anymore.
It felt like she had just been beaten black and blue by Angela's baseball bat, if it was made of metal and glowing searing red. Only this time it struck all of her simultaneously, including her insides.
It was nothing like anything she had ever experienced before. If she could describe the pain, it would be like dropping into the sun and being torn to pieces by the molten flames, without dying.
As she laid there on her side, she felt completely exhausted, she was drained of power to do anything and her body had shut off entirely. Tears rolled down her face in silence, for once her expressive face was utterly still, no fear, no joy, nothing.
She had been suffocated, unable to breath during the shock, but she didn't gasp for air. There was just a low gurgle coming from her lips, and her chest heaving, proving she was still alive.
There were no thoughts in her head, it was eerily empty. A numb, aching body, her chest was clamping horribly, but her heart somehow kept beating. The only thing she noticed was the smell of burning flesh, putrid and gruesome, she puked. She had never smelt something so horrible, and it came from herself.
She couldn't register Widowmaker lifting her from the ground, but she felt her cloths leave her body, and soon warm water running over her form. She was sitting in a shower, Widowmaker was there, she spoke French to her, a song? She had heard it earlier on the way to the hospital. It felt familiar and soothing.
She was dry when she felt her body being laid down on a blanket, an animal skin? The surface was hard, yet fuzzy and soft. The floor? The numbness was escaping her, bit by bit. But the exhaustion caught her and she slept.
\\\
Tracer woke up shivering, her body was filled with goosebumps. She had been sleeping naked without a blanket, it was dark, but the moonshine illuminated the room through the large windows.
She sat up finding herself beside a bed, she could see over the bedside. Widowmaker was laying in the middle of the bed facing her way, sleeping. The bed was large, large enough for four and the blanket was large enough for her to steal a part for her cold self.
Against her better judgement, or perhaps at the current lack of brain function, she stealthy crawled up in the bed, careful not to wake the demon's slumber. She had laid down and was just about to grab a piece of the sheets when she glanced over at Widowmaker, her golden eyes glowing in the dark, looking back at her. Her eyes were about the only thing Tracer could see, her blue tanned skin blended with the darkness and only left a silhouette of a person.
'She's awake?!' Tracer flinched as her mouth opened, she could see her white teeth. A yawn? Tracer jerked violently, Widowmaker grabbed her by the collar and pulled her in. Its a short fight, Widowmaker overpowers the poor girl and puts her weight on her.
Its... Very comfy. Widowmaker has her pinned hugging her like a teddybear, Tracer is somewhat flustered as her face is pressed against Widowmakers soft, yet firm breasts, their legs locked. She had never been this close to Widowmaker, she was wearing underwear, it felt frilly. She didn't get to sneak peak before the older woman twirled the sheet around them, pressing them even closer together.
Widowmaker isn't warm, she isn't cold either, but her skin is velvety, silky and her body feels soft like the nicest cushion fluff. Tracer's heart is pounding in her chest, but she's too tired to be affected by her hormones. Widowmaker is murmuring French in her ear, it sounds sweet, she's good with words. 'I wish I knew French' her last thought before sleep took her in again.