Why did everything have to hurt so bad? Not like she had a rough night in a good raider party kinda hurt, but that did anyone get the number of the bus that just hit me kind. Wincing Second tried to move her left arm only to think better than to continue with this thought. Looking around it was hard to tell where she was, hard to pinpoint what she was in. What she could tell was this was not her shack with her family. It wasn't a shack, a ruined house, or anything else that said normal life for her. Looking to her left arm she stared at the splint, 'At least it is treated?' Her inner thoughts escaping in a deep sigh. Groaning as her gut and abdomen began complaining about the pain they were in. It having been on the receiving end of a beating. Her hand moving to her face to rub and try to pull her focus only for her fingers to brush against the black and blue skin of her nose. Jumping a little it was painful and tender.
"The fuck did I do?"
Slowly sitting up her mind began to piece together what had happened to her and the kind of trouble she was in. Taking her time to look around the tent she began to put together what kind of trouble she was in. Scooting to the edge of the bed she looked down and around before trusting her surroundings enough to stand on her own two feet. Arm cradled over her chest as she slowly moved around the tent, taking time to almost memorize everything that was there and figure out a way to use things to kill, escape, or beat anyone who came into the tent. Finally making it to the flap of the tent she slowly pulled it open enough to look outside of the canvas walls. Men in leather skirts. Legion. If as if the world was slamming her mind into focus as she let go of the flap and turned to look at the contents of the tent again. Her eyes picking up the tail tale signs of Caesar's Legion that she seemed to have skipped over in her thoughts of murder and running. Focusing on every little detail that screamed and yelled Legion she almost didn't hear the outside world.
Hearing footsteps outside she darted for the bed, quickly getting back into the same place she had woken up at. Wanting to look as if she was still out and maybe get a little revenge on whoever thought they owned her. It was time to play spider and the fly. Wanting him to get close so she could sucker punch him and book it for freedom. Even though she had not heard the flap move she was sure this was the beast, who else would keep something so wild. So dangerous. When the flap finally moved and the footsteps moved inside the tent she had to keep calm, keep still. Her mind listening to the footsteps and knowing them as the beast she had stabbed in the leg. Soon the sounds of his breaths drew closer and closer.
'This is the moment I die. Fuck him.'
The bed shifted from weight moving onto it. Someone crawling onto the bed and then over her. Feeling his knees on either side of her thighs she smirked giving her attack away had he been paying attention. A split second and bam, she could hear the squealing as he cupped his ever tender bits while falling over and then off the bed to the hard floor below. With a shot of adrenaline, she sprang from the bed, ignoring her body's protest to this action. Looking down at the man, well more like a boy, she pounced like a wildcat. Using only her right fist she started to go to town on the boy's face.
"Never. Without. My. Fucking. Permission. You. Fucking. Asshole. Bullshitting. Fucktard. Of. A. Shit. Eater."
Every word paused with the hit of her fist against his face. She was giving into her body's chemical reaction. Allowing her high to dictate her actions, even though this was not the beast she fought in the night. She was going to show them all what she meant. The savage beating would have continued on had something not derailed her mind. A hand grasping her wrist and holding her in place.
"He is done."
Looking up at him she snarled and bared her teeth at him. Which only caused to make him chuckle at her display. Jerking her hand free she moved off the beaten boy and glared at the beast. Angry over how he had outsmarted her. He had known she would attack. Planned for it even. The whole thing irritated her. Who the hell was he to know her? No one.
"Dismissed, recruit. Slave, bed."
Dark brown eyes fixated on the boy as he scrambled to his feet, gave some sort of rushed salute and dashed for the tent flap. Cocking her head a moment before her attention turned to the brute. As if she was going to turn into the model slave and just fall in line to this slave command. Scoffing and rolling her eyes she moved to push past him only to be stopped by his arm across her chest.
Crack.
Scream.
Pain.
Having mindlessly struck him with her left arm, she felt the pure unadulterated pain as it seared up her arm and into her chest. The pain sending her to the ground as tears began to well in the corners of her eyes. Cradling her arm she whimpered only to hear a grunt or sigh come from the beast.
"So you do feel pain."
The statement infuriated her. Staggering to her feet again she glared. Striking out at him she aimed for the bandage on his thigh where her blade had been driven in. She felt the strike, it hurt to hit him. Dense muscle hurt to hit. Like a damned tree. Growling she had at least dropped him to a knee. Seizing the opportunity she darted past him, her eyes on the prize of the tent flap of freedom. Only to be jerked back into the cold hard reality with searing hot pain in her left forearm.
"Fucking bastard! Fuck you!"
Turning her torso towards his grasp she had a rather half-crazed look in her eye as she leaned her lips to her upper arm and bit. She seemed hellbent on trying to gnaw off her own arm like some coyote in a bear trap would chew a leg off to free itself. Though he wasn't about to allow it, it would cost him some pain as her teeth sank into his hand as he pushed her face away from her arm.
Growling his grip on her face shifted, holding onto her chin he quickly slipped his arm around the small off her back and pulled her tightly against him. There was power and strength behind the holds but there was also a soft touch, a restraint of sorts. He wanted her to heal. He wanted her strong. He wanted her in the most primal of ways. He also lacked any sort of trust in allowing her close to him. Wanting to see if she could be domesticated like a good Legion Mongrel. Only then would she be fit to be a good stock.
"You are the slave. I am the master. You will follow what you are told. Your life will be good. Don't follow and you will wish for death."
She was trapped again but she was nowhere close to broken. Knowing she had to get free but also understanding that she had to heal because there was no way she would make it far in the state she was in.
"Fine," her tone sharp and pointed as it gruffly passed through her clenched teeth. Relaxing only as he released her from his hold and then pointed to the bed. For the moment she did as told and climbed back onto the bed sitting in the middle of it. Favoring her forearm her eyes boring into him with so much contempt she could have killed him with just a look. Focused on what he was doing as he began to strip his armor from his form. Legs, chest, shoulders, and arms in a practiced and routine manner before his hands dipped down to the belt and leather skirt. Averting her gaze as he pulled them both away and stood there naked before her. She could hear him chuckling at her shy reactions to his current clothed status and it seemed to again infuriate her. Eye rashly darting up to look at him only to see his lower half wrapped in a loose red cloth.
"So what is the point of me?"
Feeling the cool gaze of the beast on her and his throaty purr as he debated on how to answer her question of him. Eyes filled with contempt never leaving him as he crawled onto the bed. His face mere inches from hers before his massive hands wrapped around her jaw and pulled her lips to his. Quick reaction was simple, bite. Catching his lower lip in her teeth she bit to draw blood and inflict pain. While he recoiled the back of his hand striking across her face sending her cowering back.
"Domestic will be your new name. You will answer to it. You will follow orders when given them. You will be a good domestic."
Holding her face with her hand she glared daggers at him. She hated him. She loathed him. She wanted him dead. He would rue the day he did this to her. All of this. Growling softly as he ignored the blood dripping from his lip and climb into the bed next to her. Still glaring at him as he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes, assuming she was going to play nice.
"Prepare a meal. Clean my armor. Clean my tent. Now, Domestic."
Eyebrow arching as she scoffed and shook her head. "Oh which domestic do you want? The one from the tent over or across?" With that quick quip, her fist struck his most tender of tender places. As he shot up she scrambled off the bed and him chasing after her in some half-crazed scene of a pre-war dog and pony show. Second's agility was her only saving grace over the beast. Though he would finally catch once her energy waned and she slowed down. Feeling his fingers and hands wrap through thick black hair and jerk her back and towards him. Losing her balance she staggered back and nearly fell. Though it only gave him the control to drag her to his desk. Bending her over it, it didn't take her long to understand where this was going.
"Fucking do it! I want it, baby. Oh, fucking hell do it. I want it so damn bad I can fucking taste it! Pull my hair just the way I fucking love it!"
Hearing his growl she quickly felt his breath on her skin as he held her down and pinned her to the desk. He was reaching for his gladius while he struggled to hold her to the desk.
Chop.
Chop.
Chop.
Feeling the pressure of his body leave her own. Gasping for air as she had held it in preparing herself for what came next. Slowly sitting up she looked at the chopped hair on the desk flanking the grooves his blade made hitting the desktop. All of it was there. All of it. Hand moving to her head, fingers picking at the clumps of poorly cut hair on her head. Pupils dilated as she watched him go back to laying down on his bed. Silence was all she could give, no witty retort, no crass comment, nothing but silence. She was staring at him, lost, so very lost on what she was supposed to do. He had given orders, should she follow them? She was rather unsure but moved to the fire and stared at it for a long moment. Picking up this and that she started on a stew. Watching the pot for a few moments before getting up and heading for his armor. Picking up one of his shin guards she stared at the flaws and poor stitching of the leather. It bothered her as her fingertips felt over the leather and the flaws. Sighing she began hunting for tools to fix these issues she saw. Hunting through his desk and the few other places he could have stashed the tools she gave an exasperated sigh as she found nothing. Setting to her task of cleaning she cleaned, oiled and fixed what she could by hand. Granted she took more time than she needed to as she wasn't too keen on her next task of cleaning the tent. Not that there was much to clean but she hated cleaning, she didn't see the point of it half the time.
Groaning as the armor and clothing were done so she no longer had an excuse to keep putting it off. Even doing only as she needed it still looked about the same. Looking at the chunks of her hair on his desk she didn't know what really to do with it. Gathering it up she glanced at the fire and shrugged a little. Burning them seemed like the best way, not that she was expecting the smell of burning hair to be that horrible. She could hear the growling of the beast in the bed a he seemed to not enjoy the smell either. Staying crouched at the fire she kept touching her hair, never had anyone ever done something like this to her. Beat her, call her names, berate her, sure but this was something vastly outside of the scope of horrible deeds done to her. He had stolen a freedom from her and she didn't really know how to process it.
Stirring the pot of stew she listened as the bed creaked and groaned as he began to move then his footsteps as they drew closer to her. Not once did she look up. Even feeling his fingertips touch and feel his handy work. She didn't shudder, she didn't shy away, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was lost and afraid.
"You'll sleep on the floor, Latro."
So now he was giving her a name. It meant nothing to her, other than something she couldn't spin it against him. Glancing as she heard a chair creak and papers shuffling, raising a brow as he sat there going over things on his desk. Looking back at the stew pot she sighed wondering if she was supposed to bring him his food or wait for him to order her to do so. Mentally going fuck it, she stood up and filled a bowl before crossing the tent to his desk. Setting it on his desk she waited for him to say something or do something but there was nothing. Growling as she slunk back to her spot on the ground floor of the tent. Eyes set on the brute, anger blazing in them as her newly deep-seated contempt burned at full strength. She knew she was tired, exhausted even, though that didn't mean she wanted to lay down. Fighting against her body wouldn't do much more than her bitterly dropping onto the ground with a groan. Curling up some she kept her eyes on the brute as he worked in silence and ate every so often. Yawning she could have kept staring at him for the rest of her life had her eyes not gotten so heavy she could barely hold them open.
