Chapter 3. I think it might be this one where it starts to get a bit nasty
and R-rated. Not sexually explicit, but features unpleasant situations.
Thanks to Magenta4ever and RegFrankieFan!
*****
I was kept late after work for cheeking the master again. I didn't know what was wrong with me lately, every time I was treated unjustly I couldn't help but talk back, even if it was to my superiors. Personally, this time I felt more than justified in my anger at Frank. I had spent over three hours preparing dinner for the ungrateful swine, but had failed to noticed that I had garnished his meal with flat-leaf parsley instead of coriander. He refused to eat it and told me that I was no use except for when I was on my knees. I hadn't been able to control my anger, I went to slap him but Riff Raff grabbed me round the waist and held me back, so I simply spat at Frank, against my better judgement, but I had been so incensed, I had to do something. Unsurprisingly, this had earned me an extra three hours of after-dark, unpaid service and a sound beating from Frank. The sick bastard enjoyed administering that.
My mother and Riff had long since gone home but my brother had promised not to sleep until he knew that I was home safely. The Furters were having another party, so I was confined to cleaning the rancid cellar for the whole night. After only an hour I was exhausted, this wasn't even a job given to an adult servant who had committed such a relatively minor offence as cheeking their master. I felt a black mood creep over me, it wasn't really a depression but it was enough to draw tears to my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but I didn't stand a chance against my seething teenage emotions.
I wiped my face hurriedly on my apron as I heard the door open, but Frank had already seen my vulnerability.
"Oh, stop snivelling! You've brought this upon yourself!" I was too weak to argue with him. I simply hung my head, my hair falling limply to cover my face. "Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" I glanced up at him. He was trying to provoke me, to what end I wasn't sure, but I didn't trust him for an instant. He walked towards me and I tried to sink further into the shadows, to no avail. Frank reeked of Marijuana and red wine. He was a dangerous young man at the best of times, but it was much, much worse when he was drunk. The physical scars of both me and my brother held testament to that. He was getting more and more angry at my lack of a response but I didn't have to energy to argue with him and risk what he might do to me if I dared to speak. He slapped my cheek, the sound echoing around the damp stone room. I recoiled slightly, looking away but saying nothing, fresh tears falling defiantly down my cheeks. He grabbed my wrists, pinning my arms to my sides, his eyes flashing with malice and it was then that I realised just what he was going to do to me. I looked into his eyes, frozen by fear, managing to shake my head and mentally urging him to take mercy upon me, but instead he forced a rough kiss onto my lips. I could taste the nicotine, the dope and the wine and I fought to keep myself from retching. I was sure this wasn't real, it must be a nightmare, I would wake up now, in my bed, with Riff Raff asleep on the opposite side of the room. Four months short of my 15th birthday, my master was about to take from me the one possession I cherished and truly had to call my own. Wracked by sobs, I pleaded with him to let me go and not to do what I knew he was planning on, but my words fell on deaf ears. I squealed in protest as he slid his hands underneath my shirt and bra, feeling my new, feminine figure. I tried to call out, to fight back, but he was far too strong and he slapped me again for struggling against him. "Unless you want your whole family to be out of a job and out of society for life, you will keep your mouth shut, you filthy little bitch." Struck dumb by fear, he pinned me against the wall. I silently wept for the duration of the ordeal. I felt the cold cellar wall causing abrasions all over my back, I felt his hot breath on my face and neck, felt the touch of his foul skin against mine. It wasn't supposed to be anything like this, it should have been beautiful, perfect, for love. This was not even close. It wasn't love, it was pain, pain born out of spite and Frank's total disregard for me as a lower class being. I remember pain, I remember blood, I remember blackness.
********
Well, that was chapter 3. I'm not good at writing these violent and/or depressing chapters. So be gentle! And I would like to take this opportunity to state my opinion that flat leaf parsley and coriander are the same damn thing.probably.
*****
I was kept late after work for cheeking the master again. I didn't know what was wrong with me lately, every time I was treated unjustly I couldn't help but talk back, even if it was to my superiors. Personally, this time I felt more than justified in my anger at Frank. I had spent over three hours preparing dinner for the ungrateful swine, but had failed to noticed that I had garnished his meal with flat-leaf parsley instead of coriander. He refused to eat it and told me that I was no use except for when I was on my knees. I hadn't been able to control my anger, I went to slap him but Riff Raff grabbed me round the waist and held me back, so I simply spat at Frank, against my better judgement, but I had been so incensed, I had to do something. Unsurprisingly, this had earned me an extra three hours of after-dark, unpaid service and a sound beating from Frank. The sick bastard enjoyed administering that.
My mother and Riff had long since gone home but my brother had promised not to sleep until he knew that I was home safely. The Furters were having another party, so I was confined to cleaning the rancid cellar for the whole night. After only an hour I was exhausted, this wasn't even a job given to an adult servant who had committed such a relatively minor offence as cheeking their master. I felt a black mood creep over me, it wasn't really a depression but it was enough to draw tears to my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but I didn't stand a chance against my seething teenage emotions.
I wiped my face hurriedly on my apron as I heard the door open, but Frank had already seen my vulnerability.
"Oh, stop snivelling! You've brought this upon yourself!" I was too weak to argue with him. I simply hung my head, my hair falling limply to cover my face. "Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" I glanced up at him. He was trying to provoke me, to what end I wasn't sure, but I didn't trust him for an instant. He walked towards me and I tried to sink further into the shadows, to no avail. Frank reeked of Marijuana and red wine. He was a dangerous young man at the best of times, but it was much, much worse when he was drunk. The physical scars of both me and my brother held testament to that. He was getting more and more angry at my lack of a response but I didn't have to energy to argue with him and risk what he might do to me if I dared to speak. He slapped my cheek, the sound echoing around the damp stone room. I recoiled slightly, looking away but saying nothing, fresh tears falling defiantly down my cheeks. He grabbed my wrists, pinning my arms to my sides, his eyes flashing with malice and it was then that I realised just what he was going to do to me. I looked into his eyes, frozen by fear, managing to shake my head and mentally urging him to take mercy upon me, but instead he forced a rough kiss onto my lips. I could taste the nicotine, the dope and the wine and I fought to keep myself from retching. I was sure this wasn't real, it must be a nightmare, I would wake up now, in my bed, with Riff Raff asleep on the opposite side of the room. Four months short of my 15th birthday, my master was about to take from me the one possession I cherished and truly had to call my own. Wracked by sobs, I pleaded with him to let me go and not to do what I knew he was planning on, but my words fell on deaf ears. I squealed in protest as he slid his hands underneath my shirt and bra, feeling my new, feminine figure. I tried to call out, to fight back, but he was far too strong and he slapped me again for struggling against him. "Unless you want your whole family to be out of a job and out of society for life, you will keep your mouth shut, you filthy little bitch." Struck dumb by fear, he pinned me against the wall. I silently wept for the duration of the ordeal. I felt the cold cellar wall causing abrasions all over my back, I felt his hot breath on my face and neck, felt the touch of his foul skin against mine. It wasn't supposed to be anything like this, it should have been beautiful, perfect, for love. This was not even close. It wasn't love, it was pain, pain born out of spite and Frank's total disregard for me as a lower class being. I remember pain, I remember blood, I remember blackness.
********
Well, that was chapter 3. I'm not good at writing these violent and/or depressing chapters. So be gentle! And I would like to take this opportunity to state my opinion that flat leaf parsley and coriander are the same damn thing.probably.