Page 7 of Servitude to Serpents

My body lays limp and unresponsive on the bed as he pulls out of me. My throat is parched and scratchy, even though I stopped screaming days ago, stopped fighting when he stopped bringing the bread. He only arrives now with a smirk, that whip, his cock, and those stupid questions.

What is your name?

What is your purpose?

Who do you belong to?

I’ve tried every word combination I can think of to get the second one right, but I never do.

He zips up his pants, looking down at me in disappointment, one Ifeel,oddly enough. I stopped questioning it. “I’ll turn your water on for fifteen minutes today. No more, so don’t fuck around like you did yesterday. Fill both your bottles, or you’ll run out again.Do you understand?”

I stare at the mirror, where they watch. I stare at the strange, lifeless girl in the reflection.

“You may look at me.”

My eyes snap up to his face, taking in the aged, scraggly features. The structure is long, his nose bowed in the middle. He’s quite ugly, but looking directly at him feels…like agift,a kindness I haven’t earned. “Yes, Sir.”

He shakes his head down at me before turning.

I cough, trying to wet my cracked lips. “Sir?”

He sighs loudly. “Yes?”

“I think I’m dying.”

He scoffs. “Don’t be dramatic. Your fifteen minutes start now. Get up.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I try, I really do, but my body is an open wound, my feelings and awareness muted.

When the loudspeaker comes overhead, stopping Sir at the door, I manage to roll myself off the bed. My shoulder connects roughly with the concrete there as I crumple.

The voice that comes is the same one from the first day. “Perhaps we give the sweet flower another chance. She’s wonderfully docile.”

I just lay there, staring at the floor in front of me, wondering if the girl who was here before did better than me.

Or worse.

If Sir liked her more than me. It’s a bizarre thought that comes unbidden.

His shiny boots thud on his path back to me, my body thrumming with pain as I’m jerked into a sitting position. When he crouches at eye level, I snap mine away, remembering not to make eye contact. I stare at his chin instead. “What is your purpose?”

All my breath leaves me at once until I’m fully deflated, limp except for his hand knotted in my hair. That hand takes my full weight, but I barely feel it.

“To serve.”

He stills for a moment. “To serve who?”

My pulse jumps. “You.”

His hand tightens.

“My masters?”

An odd bead of hope swells in my chest when he smiles. “Good girl. You owe the boss big time. I was going to let you die down here.”

My face falters when I try to smile back. It feels good, getting it right. I think I pass out instead.

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