Her Master's desire

Allison's POV

He is a mad man. There are no two ways about this, Darius Hunter is messed up in his head.

Why do I instantly need to fart? I disregard the noise in my belly. Or this miracle actually, the window for my escape. I should let him hear the noise, I should fart so he would show me the restroom, and just maybe I could find my way out of here.

With everything I've got, I tighten my abdominal muscles, sending out the gas in my belly, announcing itself with most prominent audibility. The sound itself stuns me so much that I regret having aided its arrival. It sounded like a faulty machine gun. Not funny I know, but Darius's expression has me stifling a chuckle.

He is surprised, not insulted, just surprised, and maybe a little insulted that I am not taking him seriously. But it is nature, so I'm pretty certain he wouldn't blame nature for choosing this time to do its thing.

I feign horror, my hand flying to my mouth. "I didn't do that on purpose." I partially lie, watching him closely to see how he would react.

"You forced it out. I'm not an idiot... Restroom?" He asks with a painful grimace, my fart's odour erupting into the once beautifully lavender scented ambience, causing it to stink terribly.

"If you do not mind sir." I say stiffly, like I honestly want to go. Meanwhile I have no need for the restroom.

He points to a door at a corner of the lobby. "That's the guest restroom." He then squints at me, as if daring me to try something funny, yet I disregard him with a nonchalant nod, instantly making an about turn to the direction of the door. As soon as I make it to the bathroom, my face falls in disappointment.

"Are you joking?" I stump a foot angrily, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. The guest bathroom is a state of the art if I we were talking about the design, I bet every room in this house is. Except that this restroom is closed up, no window, no openings, not even a visible vent I could squeeze myself through. For the first time in my life I wish I had the superpower to phase through walls.

Tears form at the corners of my eyes. What have my parents gotten me into? The tiny ball of tears roll down my face, causing me to sniff as I throw my back on the tiled wall in sheer frustration and self humiliation. Perhaps I should have not been born, it would have been better...

A subtle knock on the door jolts me back to the present, forcing me to flush the toilet with shaky fingers.

"You disappoint me darling. You do realise they are cameras at every corner of this house, right? Especially the guest toilet..." His voice assaults me from the other side of the door, bringing my face to wring itself in pain.

I want to die from embarrassment, I want to be flushed down the drain to hide my face from the world. With shame, I unlock the door, though my head fights to stay high and defiant. Yet when I see the smirk of Darius's devilishly handsome face, I cave, sending my gaze to the ground.

"I wasn't trying to escape..." I start with a lie, my voice shaking from the dryness in my throat.

"I see." He truly sees, with the manner he widens his eye muscles amusingly. "Try running away from me next time, and I'll really punish you."

Punish.

"It's stupid what you're asking me to do." I mumble with discomfort.

"Stupid huh? Okay. I'll call my brother to take you."

As far as I'm concerned, that should be a better option. But the saying that 'the devil you know is better than the angel you don't', runs around my head stupidly, causing a plea to slip out of my lips.

"No please don't."

He is surprised, taken aback by my plea, and amused by my naivety. I should be scared of him, scared enough to prefer his brother.

"So you'll do what I ask of you then..." He asks by cocking his head as if unsure if I know what preferring him means.

"Yeah I will. But how do I know how much each job cost. And how do I know when it all ends? How long do I have to work for you...?"

My questions incur a deep laughter, one that strips me off my disheveled confidence. "Let's see..." He starts counting his fingers seriously. "One two three... Seven..." Then he stops to give me an excited look.

"Seven days?" I ask hopefully, but he shakes his head in disappointment. "Seven weeks." This time he sighs in impatience. "Seven months...?" This is how further I can go, but he shakes his head slowly, a certain curl on his lip. I hope it's not what I'm thinking, because if that's it... I'll loose myself.

"Seven ... years?"

He snaps his fingers in compliment of my brilliance. "I was thinking ten years. But I settled with seven."

I need to read. I need my books and tablet before I loose my mind. I don't want to break down in front of this man, show him how vulnerable and deserted I'm feeling right now.

"The room is spinning..." I gasp, feigning weakness. I let my legs give way from under my body, crumbling onto the floor. Once I'm sprawled on the floor, I close my eyes almost fully, holding my breath and playing unconscious.

"Such a drama queen..." Darius mutters, crouching where my body lays, ogling at my thighs thirstily. The dire need to adjust my pyjama short hits me like a wave, yet I know I cannot make a movement.

His hand reaches out to my naked thigh, tracing an invisible letter that makes me flinch and throw my fist against his jaw in one motion, feeling my fist connect with his bone. My mouth drops open in shock of my success, yet I wish I could reverse the moment.

His face is red, turned in the alternate direction of my punch. He faces me, expression blank, scary as I cannot tell what he's thinking.

I think he's going to beat me up, chain me like he said. I'm going to steal those items in chains, then I'll be caught and arrested. I'll spend my whole life in an actual prison.

I open my mouth to start a trail of apology, when he holds up his index finger and pulls out his phone. He dials a number, and waits for it to ring. Panic sets into the bottom of my belly like a tsunami. Whoever he is calling must be my punisher.

"Yeah. She's ready for you." He says to the unknown person.

My head and right hand is throbbing painfully. I have not recovered from my own accostment. "Who did you call!?" I fire with no reasoning, expecting him to explain what laid next in my fate's execution.

He doesn't answer me. He turns away from me instead, throwing himself into one of the long couches and crossing his strong legs over each other. He pulls a cigarette box from his breast pocket, along a lighter with a gold dragon head design. He takes his time to light the cigarette, puffing the smoke into the air with pride and no worries.

I instantly start to cough as I perceive it... I have mild asthma, the wrong odours put me out, as well as anxiety attacks, and now I'm having both.

Yet he ignores me, puffing his smoke into the air like I don't exist. I hear footsteps approaching us, footsteps that seems to come from above the staircase. That must be the person he had called, the person that's supposed to punish me. I start to scurry up from the floor, trying not to seem too vulnerable before my punisher arrives.

"Senôr I'm sorry... Dora will not eat, I gave her food before coming..."

I tilt my head to a side in confusion, accessing our companion. A woman no younger than fifty, dressed in a housekeeping uniform. She is definitely Latina from her accent and beautiful bronze skin, her hair so dark and healthy I smile just looking at her. She has kind eyes too, one that puts me at peace. But who is Dora? I frown for a second, and push out my curiosity the minute it arrives.

"Rebecca... You know you're never late. Here's the girl, you know what to do with her." Darius informs the nanny and immediately leaves me with the absolute nice stranger. Funny enough, I do feel very comfortable with this woman.

"Hi, child. What is your name?" Her crooked voice greets me with kindness.

"Allison... Allison Martins." Okay I should not have said my last name, as the nice woman's face instantly morph's into something I now describe as monstrous.

"The priest's offspring... The bodyguard's daughter!?" She spurts with hateful disappointment. "Senôr Darius should have killed you. Yet he give you to me to wash up. Hmm!" She snorts angrily as she eyes me from head to toe. "Your evil parents will pay for their evildoings..."

I'm confused. I thought my family was the victim here. How come this woman is painting us as the perpetrators?

"What are you talking about woman?" I ask firmly, gritting my teeth in annoyance.

"You have no rights to ask questions. Follow me. I'll show you to your room." She informs me and heads back to the staircase, expecting me to follow her. Having no choice, I do. "He should have kept you with the other girls..." She mutters, probably thinking I cannot hear her.

In a few minutes, we reach my room, a place I consider to be a disappointment compared to how I had envisioned the rooms in the villa. It's more like the poorest room in a motel. Rebecca shows me the bathroom, and orders me to take a shower, but I refuse.

"I'd like to be alone..." I demand, hoping she leaves me so I can cry myself till the morning.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, she pulls me by the hair into the shower. But dare nimble me, before she could tear down my clothes, I push her out of the bathroom and lock myself in it.

"Bitch! You will hate putting your hands on me! You think you're strong? Just wait till he breaks you like the other girls..." Rebecca shouts from the other end of the door, before pouncing away.

My back is against the door as I pant heavily, fear gripping every nerve in my body, pulling and knitting them into strings. My heart beating hard as I ask myself countlessly, what Darius has done with the other girls? My best bet is human trafficking! Is that what will happen to me...?