Something pounded softly next to my ear. Rhythmically I could hear it beat, like music. It was warm, and the beating was soft, and I felt so safe. I wanted to sleep, but there was something tickling the edge of my consciousness. A voice, calling for me to wake up.
"Trowa, come on, look at me," it called and I recognized my Master. I opened my eyes, for I only wanted to please Master, and looked at him.
His eyes were such a pretty blue that they never should have held such worry. There was a heaviness in them that I had not seen in other masters, a compassion that must have been painful in a place like this. He smiled in relief and I saw just how pretty his eyes could be.
Then his hand brushed my arm, catching on one of my piercings, and I flinched. Everything suddenly came back to me, and I gasped. Master, seeing my distress, pulled my head back down to his chest, letting the rhythm of his heart calm me.
"Just relax," he told me, holding me close, stroking my back. I did so, relaxing against him as my mind worked to fill in what had happened. I realized, startlingly, that there was a gap in my memory between the time I panicked and how I managed to get wrapped nearly around Master, covered in a blanket, and lying down.
"Wha-...?" I started, but hesitated, unable to clearly form the question. "How did I...?"
"You had a panic attack. You were completely incoherent for several minutes. I believe you may have fallen asleep while I was calming you, but it would not be farfetched to say that you fainted."
"I am sorry, Master."
"Tell me what the Duke would have done to you had you removed your piercings," he demanded.
"What?" I could only gasp.
"Tell me how the Duke would have punished you."
"How did..." I wondered, suddenly afraid again that they had been speaking without my knowledge.
"You spoke of it several times while you were incoherent. Now, tell me what he would have done."
"He... He said he would fry me until I was black with a livewire. He said it would be one hundred times worse than my rings. Then he made me touch a wire, just to show me what it was like. I was thrown to the ground the moment I touched it, but I still lost use of my hands for several weeks. I was unconscious for four days. I couldn't speak for a month."
"I see," he said, looking pensive. "Stay here," he ordered after a moment, then rose and disappeared into the bathroom. I turned onto my back and sat up, but otherwise didn't dare to move. I was in enough trouble as it was.
When Master returned, he was carrying a syringe. I flinched, but forced myself not to run. Even if I had run, Master could have just stopped me with the remote, so it was very little use. There was a cottonswab in his other hand, and Master was thorough and professional as he sat beside me and swabbed my arm. He was quick with the syringe, which I was grateful for, but it was still difficult for me to endure. I was extremely afraid of needles.
Once it was over, Master had me lie back down on the bed as he continued to sit beside me.
"What I gave you is a muscle relaxant," he said at length, taking my hand in his own. "It will make it difficult for you to move, but won't put you to sleep. Not that you'll need any help with that," he said. I realized, as he spoke, that I could not move more than an inch in any direction, and I could only twitch my arms and legs with great effort. "I think it's taken affect," he said. "I'm sorry for forcing you into this, but I simply won't allow one of my slaves to be treated this way. I'm sure you'll be alright tomorrow," he told me. I swallowed hard as he rose and moved to the bottom of the bed. I could feel my worry starting to resurface, but it was difficult to rise to that level of terror with the drugs in my system. I settled for watching him fearfully as he picked up the wirecutters.
"You may not believe this," he said in a tone of annoyed amusement, "but I don't plan on taking any appendages with these," he said, half smiling as he waved the tool in his hand. "Your fingers and toes are perfectly safe."
I managed a half-hearted smile for him, but it faded as he returned his attention to his work, flicking the covers from my leg. I could not move as he lowered the cutters and snapped off the end of one of the metal bars piercing my flesh, but I did moan somewhat frantically. The medicine, whatever Master had given me, made it so that the procedure did not hurt, as I could barely feel my legs over the heavy numbness that had settled into my body. Still, the sound to me was so frightful, so morbid, that the sound itself created the pain.
"Oh, come now, it's not that bad," Master said as he pulled the bar the out from the other side and dropped it into the bowl he had brought from the kitchen. It made a twang as the metal hit ceramic and I flinched again.
"Hush," Master said finally. "Sleep if this upsets you so badly. I didn't think you'd need help, but I can certainly oblige if you keep this up," he said, giving me a small glare. I held my tongue as he bent to cut the next one, but still could not hold in the involuntary flinch. Master didn't comment on this, though, simply continued with his work. It became a rhythm, each snip and twang as he would cut and drop the pieces of metal that had so plagued me for the last few years. There were so many, and I was so tired, that it became like a terrifying melody to me.
Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang.
I could feel myself nodding off, and struggled to keep awake, though I could not tell why I felt so strongly that I must not sleep. At some point, Master rose and left the room, but it was not until he returned that I noticed he was gone. He had a towel in his hand and began to wipe my leg, and it was only upon seeing the red on white that I noticed my leg was bleeding where the piercings had been removed. It was only a small dribble of blood, though, much less than when they went in, and I was not overly concerned, except for the possibility of staining Master's sheets. But there was really nothing I could do about it, so eventually I let the thought leave my mind.
"What could you have possibly have done to deserve a... punishment... like this?" Master asked, looking somewhat sickened by the sight of my body.
"One of the Duke's favorite slaves as jealous of me," I said, trying to stay coherent enough to tell the story. "At his house, where my first master gave me to him, there was a high fence outside. It was tall... so very tall... but not too tall. I..." I hesitated, trying to remember, "I performed acrobatics where I jumped really high. Later, one of his most prized slaves told me to go to the garden and prune the flowers, then told the Duke that I had been trying to escape. He believed the slave, and punished me. When I wouldn't scream, he punished me more. I became one of his favorites, because the slaves the Duke loves the most are the ones he hurts the worst."
"My god," Master murmured and returned to his work, this time moving to the other leg. I once again began to nod off, but jerked myself awake as my head fell forward. Master noticed, and looked up for a moment, pausing in his work.
"Go to sleep," he said sternly, pulling a pillow from behind me so that I was forced to lie all the way down. I did not like it, but I didn't have the strength to sit up. "If you wish to please me, then go to sleep. This is going to take a long time, there's no need for you to sit through all of it."
What could I do when the Master ordered me to do what my body had been begging for? With a sigh of anxiety that I could barely feel, I allowed my eyes to slip shut, so that I was reduced to only my sense of sound.
Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang.
It followed me into my dreams, haunting me, filling my ears as I ran from wires and shocks.
I slept, though uneasily, for a very time, only half waking as Master rolled me over to get at the bars on my back.
Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang.
It was the sound of freedom, and that terrified me. I knew what a cruel, dark place the world could be. I was as afraid of being alone in it as I was of being caged by it.