GENERAL WARNING: This fanfiction will be a bit dark, if you will. It includes heavy bdsm, sexually explicit scenes, physical violence, and verbal abuse. In this chapter, and likely in others early on in the story, Nina shows symptoms of severe Stockholm syndrome. If any of these topics trigger you/make you uncomfy, please stop reading here. Last, I do not own HOA nor do I condone what Jerome does to Nina

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Over the past few decades, slave trading has become common practice in the UK. Practically all of it being sex-slavery. Nina Martin is a 22 year old girl, when she was 18 her Grandmother sold her to Jerome Clarke, a well-respected business owner in London. Before she was sold, her life wasn't the best. Her Gran and her lived in poverty, and because of ongoing dementia Nina was verbally; sometimes physically abused by her Gran.

Nina's P.O.V

My body is aching, the few bruises that were on my arms and legs were just starting to heal when he punished me again. I look down at the hickey's that litter my body. I feel disgusting, I feel worthless. It's all I've been made to feel even before I entered this life. I have no freedom; I belong to Jerome Clarke. My life has gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye. I'm walking around the space that is my room. A separate room that's off my master's basement. Locked with a number pad. I have no bed, at best there's a sheet and a couple of pillows on the cold tile. Against the wall behind my sad excuse for a bed is chains, chains that my master uses whenever he's angry. It's to keep me in one spot, make my small world already so much smaller. Chain my ankles to the wall.

Fastened to one of the walls is a sheet of paper, a 4-year-old sheet of paper. My gran sold me to Jerome on my 18th birthday, and at first, he seemed... nice. Possessive, which I expected, but nice. Upon arrival he made me a list of rules to keep in my "bedroom", reading them caused memories to flood for each one. Each time I accidentally broke one…

Always refer to your master as nothing except for master or sir

"Jerome?" I called out, no answer. I start walking around the main floor. "Jerome? I finished organizing your office, what do you want me to do wi-" I was cut off when I turned a corner and his hand connected with my cheek. It was the first time he ever hit me, I was standing in shock; my cheek stinging.

"You are to never. EVER. Refer to me as my name, slave. Just like I will never be referring you to yours. You are no longer 'Nina', you are whoever I want you to be. Slave, bitch, whore, anything."

I look up at him, tears welling up in my eyes as I nod in understanding.

He grabbed my throat tightly.

"I want a 'Yes, master' or a 'Yes, sir' or else this day will get so much worse for you, bitch"

"Y-yes Master" I respond, my tone shaky and nervous. His grip on my throat loosens up before he forcefully shoves me hard enough, I stumble back. The tears that were welling up in my eyes fall freely down my face.

Never speak unless spoken to or given permission by your master

I handed Master his drink, he was mingling with his colleagues in the restaurant industry. "What a gorgeous, gorgeous girl you've got as your property, Clarke…" one of them express, causing him to smile.

"Thank you, isn't she? She's sweet, quiet, obedient, beautiful as you've seen, the list just goes on…" He responds, I smile at his company who are all giving me glances.

"Thank you, sir," I say genuinely, positivity in my tone. Right as I utter those words I see my master's expression change. He grabbed my wrist tightly, all of the oxygen was suddenly taken out of my body.

"Excuse us for a few moments, I apologize" He says to his company, flashing an obviously fake smile before pulling me in the direction he was walking. My heart felt like it was pounding in my throat.

He threw me over the island in our kitchen, pressing my back down with one of his hands so I stay bent over. I lightly squirm in his grasp out of reflex.

"Fucking. Stop it. Unless you want worse, later" He growls in my ear, causing me to become perfectly still.

He pulls down my shorts just to my knees with his free hand, and with the same hand he spanks my ass until it's bright red on both cheeks.

After the first few spanks I start clenching my teeth together.

"He wasn't speaking to you…" spank. "He was speaking. To me." Spank.

"NEVER speak unless you're spoken to by me, or if you get permission to speak to others. From me" Spank.

"Yes master" I respond through clenched teeth. He pulls up my shorts in record time, giving my ass one last slap once they're pulled up.

Never have an attitude when speaking to your master; when your master gives you orders

"Slave, make me dinner. I'd prefer pork sandwiches"

I rolled my eyes. It was an accident, but I rolled my eyes.

It was my first 6 months as a slave, I wasn't quite "broken" I guess you could say.

That was a mistake.

"Did you forget your place you stupid bitch?"

Play dumb. Play dumb. Play dumb.

I look up at him, terror in my eyes, shaking my head no.

"Allow me to remind you"

Those were the final words I heard before I felt severe pain shoot directly onto my neck, traveling nearly to my shoulders causing me to let out a scream. My hands instinctively going to my shock collar even though there's nothing I can do, I can't even take it off without my master. He continues holding the button for 5 whole seconds, watching me, a sadistic smile growing on his face while he watches me suffer in pain; grunting loudly in a raspy tone through my clenched jaw.

Finally, he lets go of the 'shock' button. I let out a soft sigh of relief before gasping for air a few times. All of the words I had in my head were suddenly taken from me.

"I hope you liked setting 100. Next time think before doing anything like that. Roll your eyes at me again and trust me, you'll wish that I was shocking you… now do as I ordered".

Take all punishments with grace. You deserve them.

"Useless piece of shit" he growled before cracking the whip onto my bare, naked back. I cry out in pain, I'm helpless. I'm on my knees, wrists tied together in front of me. I'm naked except for underwear.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry master" I stutter with tears falling down my face.

"Why even bother having a slave if she's going to disobey me? Why? Why are you good enough to be my slave? Exactly. You're not. I'm doing you a favor. And what do good girls say when their master does something nice for them?" He says angrily before whipping me again. I flinch quite a bit while letting out a loud groan, but I don't cry any harder than I am. I take in a deep breath in an attempt to compose myself.

"Thank you master"

He smiled at me. This was the first time he smiled since my punishment.

"Good girl"

You are not allowed outside; I hope you enjoyed your fresh air while you had it.

I gently close the back door, in hopes not to wake him. Slowly walking off of the back porch and into his backyard, it's something I haven't done in just over a year. Smelled the outside. Felt fresh grass under my feet where I stood. That's all I did after I took my first few steps, stood.

I know what people would be thinking.

Run.
Why aren't you running.

If we're being honest, where would I run to?

My gran sold me. I have no other family. I would be… homeless. Yes I'm enslaved by a sadistic man. But… that sadistic man. He loves me. He puts a roof over my head. I'm never without anything if I'm with him. If I am without anything, it's only as punishment if I've been bad.

I look up at the daytime sky, I see birds flying through the spring trees. Those birds don't have any clue just how lucky they are.

How good they have it. Born free, with their mother to look after them in their most vulnerable years.

Then, they fly on their own. Without a care in the world. The sounds of the wind blowing and the birds chirping made a small smile form across my face.

My thoughts were interrupted by the back door opening and slamming shut.

I couldn't move, I was frozen in place.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, slave?"

I turned around to face him.

"Master, I-"

"Inside. NOW. You know the rules. Bad, bad girl" He growled, his tone and the use of 'bad girl' causing me to let out a whimper. It's almost funny how messed up I am already…

Almost.

A life of pain, abuse, and poverty, yet I was still somewhat normal. All until I was sold.

I walk inside as he holds the back door open for me, my heart pounding. I had broken one of his rules, I had been a bad girl.

He follows right behind me and slams the door shut before grabbing my wrist, forcing me to follow him. Eventually we got to the basement, he continued to drag me down the steps just as hastily as he had dragged me through his home.

He unlocked the door to my room, proceeding to open it and throw me inside. I was thrown off balance for a couple seconds, but eventually got it back.

He slapped me across the face, sending a stinging sensation to my whole left cheek.

"You enjoy the fresh air so much? You like being outside so much? Was it worth it?" He screams at me, "Now for the next week at least, you'll never see anything outside of these four walls that are your bedroom. I hope it was worth it, slave. I really do. And if you thought I've been cruel this past year? You have another one coming. Truly." He spat at me before leaving, and locking the door behind him.

He kept true to his word. He kept me locked in there for over a week. I lost count at day 20, but I was let out into the upper level again a handful of days after that I think. Every single day, he came down. Not to take care of me, to torture me. I was his punching bag. His personal stress ball to let out all of his frustrations on. Nothing more for at least 3 weeks. I was barely fed, I lost almost 15 pounds during that period.

Day 2 is when he forced me to remain on all fours.

I wasn't allowed to stand.

I was only allowed to lie down to sleep, or be on all fours like an animal.

That's exactly what I was treated like.

Yes, I technically could've stood when he left the room. But who was I to not assume he might come back? I didn't want to risk him walking in on me standing on my two feet, risk being punished even more.

After the 3 weeks or so was over, he helped me up on my feet. I was extremely wobbly. He took me upstairs and bathed me, holding me in the warm bath, prepping my neck with kisses and telling me just how much he loved me.

And if I'm being honest?

I loved him.

END OF FLASHBACKS

Love.

I have such a distorted view of that word.

I'm sure my parents loved me, but as I get older my memories with them get more and more faint. My Gran always told me she loved me, but there would be times where she still hit me.

Still called me names.

Still made me feel like I wasn't worth anything.

Jerome says he loves me. All of the time.

I'm lucky that he even keeps me as his slave sometimes, lucky that he paid the amount of money he did for me.

He wouldn't of done that if he didn't love me.
He wouldn't continue to take care of me if he didn't love me.

It seems as if he is right after all.

I truly am nothing without him.

At least with him, I'm nothing but with a purpose.

And that purpose is to serve Jerome Clarke until the day I die.