The Decimation of Mae (The Blue Butterfly) Page 5

  His chest heaved as his jaw clenched, his teeth cracking loudly under the power as he got up and dragged me across the floor by my hair. My body felt heavy but he pulled me as though I weighed nothing.

  My already bruised frame bounced along the bathroom’s porcelain floor tiles before he slung me into the huge shower cubicle. Freezing cold water pelted me, my skin shrinking back at the assault as I gasped for breath and scrambled around on the floor.

  He forced my head back with a firm hold on my hair as he directed the jet of water into my mouth. “Let’s cleanse that dirty mouth, shall we?”

  I squeezed my mouth closed, cutting off his want to drown me but the torrent of water blocked my nose. My mouth opened, causing me to drown again. It was a vicious circle as he refused to let up, the water either suffocating me or drowning me. I was deliberating which of the two would be the best way to go when the water suddenly took on a new horror as the heat suddenly intensified and pelts of scorching water attacked my cold, delicate skin.

  I screamed and clambered to the back of the cubicle, protecting my body from the blistering heat as I wrapped my arms around myself.

  He shut off the water and stared at me, his head marginally tilted to the side as his eyes burrowed deep inside me. “More?”

  I shook my head furiously. “No, please.”

  I hated the pleading tone in my voice but my body couldn’t survive anymore abuse. I was exhausted, in extreme pain and my willpower had fucked off with the water down the drain.

  “Nadu!” He barked that stupid word again and I shrugged at him. He closed his eyes, fighting for patience before he snapped them open. “Nadu!” he barked out again. “Kneel, Mae.”

  “Oh,” I whispered as I scrambled around, bringing myself to a kneeling position again.

  “Knees,” he whispered in that damn tone that liquefied my mind. It fooled my senses and I relaxed marginally in relief.

  I shuffled my knees apart slightly and remembered to place my hands on my thighs.

  His smile lit my insides, made me sigh as a reprieve in his anger gave my mind a moment’s peace, and a small jolt of happiness jerked my lips upwards into a tiny, proud smile.

  “Very good,” he praised with a small nod. “Now wash yourself.”

  I blinked at him but shifted quickly when he reached for the shower controls. “Yes,” I answered as I adjusted the temperature and switched the water back on.

  His hand shot out to stop me when I started to pull at the glass door. He shook his head slowly then went to settle in the chair that was facing the cubicle. He sat back and crossed one leg over the other as he clasped his fingers together and rested them in his lap.

  “You want me to shower on my knees?” I gasped him with a look of bewilderment. Darkness covered his face as an enraged gleam filled his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I bit out as I held my hands up and picked up the soap.

  I hated my reticence, hated how I submitted to him so easily but right then I was too tired to argue and fight. I had been fighting the memory of him for the last three years with no success, and to have him a metre from me, his evil once more polluting the air around me was impossible to oppose. He overpowered me with ease, the sheer strength of him pointless to battle with. The knowledge of how cruel he could be suppressed anymore thoughts of denying his orders. He destroyed my life three years ago, not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. I had never gotten over what he did; his actions that day made me question not just my own judgement but the intentions of everyone else around me.

  That is what made him so powerful; not the pain he could cause to my body, but the agony he brought to my soul.

  However, I would build myself back up then I’d fight the fucker all the way. That was a promise. I once again needed to find the resilient little girl my mother had loved and raised. I needed to rediscover the defiant and strong mind my father had encouraged in me. I had to learn to trust myself and learn how to fight with not just a physical strength, but hard emotion and a tough mind.

  His eyes followed the route of my hands as I remained kneeling and washed myself. The expensive soap was luxurious against the filth engrained into my sore skin, the gentle pulse of the warm water soothing to my nerves.

  “Wash your pussy, dirty little lamb.”

  My eyes shot to his but I quickly lowered them and blew out a steadying breath. Oh God damn shittin’ fuck - I made sure to say it in my head that time.

  I lathered up the soap meticulously, stealing time as I spun it and spun it in my grip, watching it twist and slide in my hands. I shuddered and closed my eyes as I slipped my hands between my legs and scrubbed at my bits quickly.

  All done.

  I smiled to myself as I hastily rinsed myself and shut off the water.

  “Wash yourself again.”

  “What?” The words rushed from my lips without permission and I almost shrivelled in despair.

  He pushed himself upright, his eyes on mine as his teeth chewed his bottom lip again. His slow steps towards me were torturous and my skin prickled as fear gripped me. His fingers circled my neck before he pulled me to stand before him. “Do not ever question me again,” he seethed. “I tell you to do something, you do it, no question, no hesitation. You DO IT!”

  I jumped and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Now, wash – your – dirty – cunt – again.”

  I nodded and restarted the water, already soaping my hands. He stood close, watching me as I closed my eyes and drew my hands between my legs. “Look at me,” he whispered.

  My stomach rolled. What the hell was with that bloody pitch in his voice that affected me like it did? I hated it, I hated the way it made me feel. I hated him. Yet that soft tone made my body want to comply and gave my mind some sort of ease. It relaxed me because right at that very second he was calm and in control, it meant he was pleased with me and wouldn’t use violence to manage me.

  He sighed heavily and I shot my eyes to his before he reacted to my hesitation. He held my gaze as I washed myself, his chest rising and falling heavily.

  His eyes finally dropped to watch my cleaning. Tears sprung from my eyes at his blatant viewing, my hands slowed down to a slow caress as I struggled to stop the sobs of humiliation.

  I blew out slowly, refusing to look at him, refusing to feed his sick desire. Blood roared through my veins, every fibre of my body repulsed, and nausea constricted my throat.

  His lips twitched and a cruel, satisfied smile covered his face. “Rinse.”

  I snapped from my thoughts and picked up the shower head, shuddering when the stream of water flowed over my breasts, my nipples hardening with the sensation. It was nothing to do with sexual stimulant but for Daniel it obviously was as I caught his slight shift in the chair, his eyes hard as he scanned my body hungrily. Vomit filled my mouth but my heavy weeping kept it at bay as my throat closed in with the pressure of my cries. He continued to watch me, his eyes narrow. “Turn it off.”

  He picked up a fluffy white towel from the shelving unit and held it open. I stared at him as I reached out for it and he shook his head. “Come here.”

  I cautiously stepped into it and gulped when he wrapped it around me, completely encasing me inside the comforting softness. A gasp echoed from my chest as he scooped me up and held me in his arms, his embrace soothing and protective as he carried me across the hallway and into a bedroom. The conflicting emotions were torturous. I wanted to recoil from him, get as far away as possible from his hold, yet loneliness provided me with a deep want for comfort. I had to physically refrain from curling into him to seek solace, not just from him, from anyone, even though my body and mind were in need of a natural source of consolation.

  The lavish décor in the bedroom took my breath. Huge heavy curtains draped the window, delicate floral paper covered the walls, and exquisite white iron furniture decorated the room.

  He placed me gently on the bed and pulled up the thick, heavy duvet, tucking it under my chin. His fingers stroked o
ver my head before his lips rested against my forehead. “Sleep, lamb.”

  I stared at him in amazement as he left the room and pulled the door closed gently behind him.

  What – the – fuckety – fuck?

  I continued to gape at the door, but as though he had cast a spell on me, my eyes drooped and I once again obeyed his orders and slept.

  Chapter Five

  ‘’Death is easier than awaiting death.’

  I woke suddenly in the night, darkness surrounding me as furious shouts filled the air, each muffled yell jolting me more and more awake. I couldn’t distinguish the words apart from whore and useless every now and again with a few nows thrown into the mix.

  I slid my feet out of bed, my toes curling appreciatively into the deep pile as I padded across the room and pressed my ear to the door. I squinted as though that would aid my hearing. Why did people do that?

  A female screamed and I shot backwards, my arse hitting the floor with a thud. I scrambled in reverse, climbing back into bed and pulling the duvet up around my neck just as the door opened and light flooded my eyes behind my eyelids.

  I frantically tried to calm my breathing, trying to ease the storm banging at my breastbone as fear caused me to shudder even beneath the heat of the duvet.

  The silence was thick and heavy, apprehension and anticipation clogging my throat as dread diluted my blood.

  “Have you forgotten something, lamb?”

  I clenched my teeth when he spoke, his voice was deep but steady, angry but calm and I knew deep within myself that anyone that controlled was very, very dangerous.

  I peeked out from behind the bedding, my nose still under cover as my eyes focused on his dark silhouette, the outline of his muscled physique from the hallway light quite impressive.

  “Well?”

  I shuffled upright and stared at him as confusion rendered me candid and unreserved. “Eh?”

  His brows shifted into his hairline and I tensed when his teeth sank into his lip, reminding me of his demand for obedience. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry.”

  I slid from the bed, shivering against the cold that rippled over my nakedness as I dropped to my knees by the bed. I scuffled into position, my backside on my heels, knees apart, chin up and hands on my thighs.

  His black socks drew my attention as he paced the room towards me, the faint thump of his feet on the carpet giving my eyes something to focus on. “Good, but next time you’ll remember without the need to be prompted.”

  Was he ever satisfied? I’d dropped to the floor as soon as I had remembered, what more did he want? In fact…

  What the hell was I doing? Apart from prolonging my death by conceding to his demands. I wasn’t his toy, his puppet or even his God damn slave. How dare he? How stupid was I? I’d woken up in a dismal damp room, chained up and left to starve and dehydrate and he expected me to fall at his feet, obey his every whim. The man who stood before me ruined my life, took from me what my mother had so painstakingly created. He’d taken my confidence, my self-respect, my thoughts, and my body and had morphed them into a living nightmare. He had constructed a corpse from a fun-loving girl.

  He didn’t deserve my surrender or my body and he would never own my mind, that was something I was sure of. That, out of everything moulded by anyone was mine, developed and nurtured by me, reared by me.

  I shot to my feet suddenly, glaring at him, and he stepped back in surprise. “How dare you, you fucking freak! Who the fuck do you think you are? Hmm? You… you do whatever you do and you think I’m gonna follow every fucking order you spit at me? Well I have news for you!”

  I took a step towards him, my eyes fixed on his neutral expression as my anger rose, the strong girl inside me fighting back, refusing to concede to the monster who fed from my fear. “I’m not your slave. I’m not a fucking object, I’m a person. I’m a woman with feelings, a girl with a heart and soul. I’m not yours. I’m not your possession. My mother birthed me, not you. You are nothing to me. You think because you took something from me once that I’ll… I’ll… what? That I’ll just drop to my knees before you. Are you God? No, you are not! So stop fucking acting like it and take me home.”

  My chest heaved as he continued to stare at me. The silence was nauseating and I swallowed the fear that curled up my throat with his casual demeanour. But fuck him and his demands. If he killed me right there, then so be it. I was born to fight, raised to persevere, and right then I was adamant I was holding the fuck on as hard as I could.

  Two minutes passed before his head inclined to the side marginally and I saw his nostrils flare gently.

  I stepped back when he took a step towards me. My mouth dried instantly as the sheer power he radiated engulfed me. He seemed to grow before me, his frame hardening as ice formed in his eyes. His shoulders tightened and his teeth sank into his lower lip.

  I gulped as his tongue dipped out and trailed slowly across his bottom lip. “You seem to forget what I told you three years ago, Mae.”

  I hadn’t been expecting that. What had he told me? I remembered every single word he had spat at me, it was engrained into my mind, never allowing me to forget and move on.

  I frantically searched my memory, diving deep into the memories of that night, my mind replaying his words until I froze at the one I knew he meant.

  “I am the sort of man who will relish in your defiance, Mae. Believe me; I would love nothing more than to fight you, to take you hard and punishingly, to bruise you and make you bleed.”

  And he had made me bleed, not just bodily but from my heart and soul. For three long years I hadn’t stopped bleeding inside.

  His lips curled when he knew I’d found the right memory, his smile sinister and mocking as his eyes glinted sharply. “You like to fight, little lamb?” he whispered as he took another step forward. “Or do you like to be punished?”

  My legs trembled as my eyes searched the room for anything I could use as a weapon but my sights set on the door, the only means of escape. It was pointless, an impossible task that wasted valuable energy. His fist grabbed my hair as I shot past him, stopping me instantly. I fell to my knees by his side. “Oh, come on, Mae. You obviously enjoy the fight. Where’s that spirit gone, huh?”

  I screamed as he flung me across the room as though I weighed nothing, as though my body was filled with air. I hit the wall, pain exploding through every bone in my slight frame. I scrambled around, my legs giving way each time I tried to get to my feet, and every time I found my footing, he knocked me back down with a heavy fist.

  It’s astonishing what the human body can endure. I was so pumped on adrenaline that I didn’t register the pain, I didn’t feel the crack of each bone or the blood as it started to trickle from my beaten body. All I felt was survival, a deep-seated need to escape from him, nature’s ability of making sure we didn’t go down without a fight.

  This continued for over twenty minutes, him waiting until I tried to right myself before he would take great pleasure in slamming me back down. I knew it was a game to him; I was his entertainment, a pawn there for his amusement.

  I gave in and huddled against the corner of the room, my knees bent in front of me as I sobbed and the pain rendered me still.

  He tutted and gave me a sad look. “Oh, don’t give up, lamb. We haven’t dealt with your filthy mouth yet. The fun has just started.”

  “You’re a monster,” I hissed at him, the final ember of anger reaching out defiantly. My spirit fought back, refusing to back down even though he and I already knew he had won.

  A small smile twisted his lips, forming his already handsome face into something quite beautiful. But sometimes beauty masked ugliness, hid the deep hideousness that every single one of us possessed.

  He stalked towards me almost gracefully, his long legs consuming the space between us quickly. He dropped to his haunches before me, causing me to shift backwards, to mould myself into the wall as he rested his forearms on his knees and regarded me.

  “You s
eem to struggle to grasp the concept of this.” He slid his tongue along his bottom lip and sighed as if saddened by my refusal to succumb to him. “Let me make this easy for you. I am a tutor and you, Mae, you are my apprentice. You will learn discipline, elegance, surrender. I will teach you to give everything that is required of you, and furthermore, you will learn to give willingly.”

  I swallowed and reared back further when he reached out and brushed away the hair that was stuck to the congealing blood on my mouth. “You will want to bestow pleasure, you will readily present your body to me and ultimately, you will voluntarily give me your soul.”

  “I will never give myself to you,” I stuttered, hanging onto my resolve, albeit stupidly. “You will never own me.”

  He smirked and chuckled. “I don’t think I explained myself accurately.”

  I whimpered when he grasped my jaw tightly, the spread of his fingers across my face painful and cruel. He yanked my chin upwards until my eyes met his angry glare, hatred and repulsion heavy in his eyes. “You are the lamb. I am the shepherd. I will control your every move. I will direct and govern you until you learn your place. And I will guide you along the path to your slaughter.”

  My stomach heaved at the sincerity in his voice, his ruthless promise that he would destroy me sending my heart into panic. “If that’s what you want then why not kill me now?” I spat out. “Why teach me when the end goal for you is to see me stripped, hung and quartered like a piece of meat in a butcher’s window? Why drag this out?”

  His eyes twinkled as we had already slipped into the teacher and pupil role with my query. He bit into the tip of his tongue and smirked. “Do you know nothing about a hunter and his prey? Why a predator stretches out the hunt?”

  He paused as if actually waiting for me to answer. I remained quiet, staring at him in disgust. He pursed his lips, pulled in a breath then smiled softly. “It’s all part of the fun, lamb. The entertainment and thrill is beyond exciting. It’s a stimulant, a drug almost. And let’s face it, we all enjoy the odd high now and again.”