The Hand That Feeds
Part IV
“Where were you?” Russell glared.
Quinn turned around to see purple angry eyes glaring at her. She wrapped her arms around her trench coat. Russell walked farther into the foyer. As he drew closer, he begun to tower over Quinn with his large stature. The 6'5” height had done little to startle Quinn as it had done to many humans and demons alike.
“I went out.” Quinn answered.
Quinn fought to give a resentful stare back as it would do no good, but to have her dad scold her through the night if he could. Russell never cared what Quinn did, or where she went, but it had changed three days after her birthday. He became more intrusive and authoritative.
“You went to that club again didn't you?” Russell huffed.
“Yes dad, I did.” Quinn snapped. “If you already knew why would you ask?”
“I wanted to make sure that foul human of yours wasn't lying to me.” Russell rebutted.
Quinn remained a calm exterior, while her mind ran into a flurry of fear to Rachel's safety. Russell had no respect or care for humans. He only tolerated the ones in his house because they carried out his daily routines. He wasn't going to get his hands dirty in trying to cut a lawn and tend to the flowers in the yard. He most definitely wasn't going to clean his own house or cook his own meals.
“Did you -”
“I didn't lay a finger on her.” Russell answered. “I can't stand that she lives on the same floor as us and how she follows you everywhere, but I'll leave you to treat her how you see fit.”
A shred of relief washed through Quinn. Russell came closer, letting out a snort of frustration. The beastly appearance to his features much clearer. He had black veins rigged around his skin that contrast immensely with his pale purple flesh, elongated black pointed nails, two small horns protruding from his forehead, stretched out sharp teeth, topped with pointed ears, and those haunting menacing purple eyes.
Russell was one of the top hideous half-breeds, but Quinn was sure with his appearance he didn't qualify as a half-breed, but rather an alternation of his former human self. He had qualities of a demon. The snarling, growling, roaring, brute strength, and temperament of a demon. That would make him just a shell of his old form. It was the perks given to a man that had been the cause of the New World Order.
Which gave him a large enough title to have anyone and anything fear him. Russell let out a rugged snort as his face scrunched up with distaste to the topic choice of their conversation.
“That isn't the point Lucy!” Russell insisted. “What I will not stand for is your childish behavior. I told you to stop your nonsense the day after your birthday. You have bigger responsibilities now!”
Quinn let out a heavy sigh. She didn't want to have this conversation, let alone an argument with her father after such an enjoyable night with Santana.
“I'm aware.” Quinn agreed. “I know what I have to do and that will come. I just wanted some fun before everything changes later on.”
Russell became more at ease. The puff in his chest disappeared and the low hum of his growling ceased. He looked Quinn over, questioning her statement.
“You know my intentions are just Lucy.” Russell stated. “I only want the best for you.”
“I know.” Quinn responded.
“I'm having guest over in two days for brunch.” Russell announced. “I expect you to be here and dressed presentably for their arrival.”
“Of course daddy.” Quinn smiled.
Pleased with his response, Russell walked away with no further complaints. Quinn silently rushed up the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor where Rachel sat upon her bed for her arrival. She had heard the entire argument downstairs.
“Mistress?” Rachel asked.
Quinn sat next to Rachel where she held Quinn while she silently cried.
***
“Hey!!” Kitty shouted, snapping her fingers in front of Santana.
She blinked several times before spotting Kitty's hand and blankly stared into Kitty's face. The lack of a reaction startled Kitty. She put her hand down and leaned closer over the table.
“You okay?” Kitty asked.
While they didn't usually talk during lunch, mainly because they were trying to find a way to stomach the slop they served the slaves. Not that meals were something to looking forward to. The slop thrown to them was sometimes a gray and gooey mush. It was difficult to swallow, much less chew, and it tasted of the most foul thing any human could ever eat. The only thing comforting was the fresh water served, but it was never cold.
Today the gruel was a thick galatnious texture that had a tan color, but it had done its purpose to feed the girls. The slaves didn't starve, somewhat. They were fed once a day and if they misbehaved they could be fed as little as twice a week. Santana hasn't seen that in the past three years.
Any matter, it was better to work the brothel on a full stomach rather than starve for the rest of the day. The day with no food meant the slaves had no fuel to work and displeasing the clients was a thin ice no one wished to walk across, should Sebastian find a slave was completely inadequate.
Santana picked up her spoon and rest her chin on to her right hand as she stared into her bowl of gruel. A sickening sequencing sound came from the bowl as the spoon was lifted and plopped back down. Kitty cringed.
“Is something bothering you?” Kitty questioned.
Santana glanced up at her with a visible pout. It would be an understatement to say she was bothered. It had been exactly a week since Santana's heard or seen Quinn. She couldn't forget their time at the club. Quinn seemed to enjoy her company and Santana would never dare say it, but she enjoyed it too. Quinn didn't push her into anything. They spent the night exploring the club with Quinn showing her the things the club offered and the crazy fetishes not only the demons had, but the humans. Who had been more than willing to attend this club. They took complete joy in spending time with their owners.
Quinn hadn't confirmed she'll see Santana again, but she assumed she would stop by the following day. By the end of the week Santana had given up wondering if Quinn would show. A wave of disappointment replaced her patience. She grew angry and bitter.
“Quinn hasn't come by in a week.” Santana mumbled.
She had no concern to hide her disappointment. Kitty perked up with a devilish smile.
“You were with Quinn that night?” She grinned.
Santana placed her spoon down and took a sip of her lukewarm cup of water. She cringed as she swallowed.
“Did she wear a mask that time?” Kitty prodded.
“No.” Santana muttered.
Kitty chuckled. “Oh, I know that look! You're completely smitten by her aren't you?!”
Santana scoffed. “I am not.”
Kitty crossed her arms with a scowl in place. “Don't lie to me. It's insulting to our friendship.”
Santana hunched over the table with a heavy sigh and threaded a hand into her hair. It had knotted again as Sebastian had no intention of letting Santana wear the braid Rachel had set in. The collar and leash were thrown away.
“She's attractive.” Santana admitted.
Kitty shrugged, accepting that would be the only closest to a confession she would get. Santana had her pride as much as Kitty had hers. It didn't always keep them grounded, but it gave them clear limits, though some weren't as clear during communication.
“We uh...” Santana rubbed the back of her neck, while she began to blush.
Kitty shot up into her chair, startling the four girls next to them and glared for them to turn away. Kitty had the largest smug grin Santana has ever seen and that only increased her embarrassment.
“I knew it!” Kitty yelped. “Was she good?”
“Kitty!” Santana hissed.
“Oh come on. It's Quinn Fabray. I think everyone has had wet dreams about her!” Kitty proclaimed.
Taking notice of a guard at the far cafeteria shifting and eyeing Kitty and Santana, Kitty began to calm down and become frantic in her motions. Santana was glaring back at her.
“Why do you look so disappointed?” Kitty asked.
“It's been a week.” Santana snapped.
“Hmm.” Kitty hummed. “That good, huh?”
“Just shut up Kitty!” Santana growled.
Kitty laughed and picked up a scoop of her slop. She nudged Santana's hand, affectionately.
“Cheer up.” She coaxed. “I'm not used to seeing my verbal spar buddy this down. If it's one thing I know, no one can resist Santana Lopez. She'll come back. Trust me.”
Santana gave a painful smile in Kitty's direction and the two friends ate the rest of today's meal. They had a long day before bed time.
***
“Wake up! All of you on your feet!” Sebastian shouted, slamming a nine inch lead pipe along the wall as he walked.
The sound of his boots stomping against the concrete as the pipe rattled through the room brought a sharp pain to the back of Santana's skull. Sebastian glared at the group of slaves that arose to their crude awakening.
The metal walls surrounding the room had caused the noise of Sebastian's voice to echo and increase into a sound that had painfully pierced Santana's ears. Kitty was up for Santana and looked just as irritated. As the slaves began to understand the situation they roused from the floor.
Stretching up from the floor and cringing as her body ached, Santana scanned the room. Nothing had changed and looking down to herself she was still bound in her collar with her entire body bare. It was difficult to judge the time of day due to the lack of windows, but Sebastian had the decency to include air ventilation. A dead slave was a useless one and Sebastian hated losing money.
As Sebastian walked along the perimeter of the holding-cell, Santana cringed hearing him hit the wall a last time before dropping the pipe to the ground. Judging from the unusual amount of aching her body did, Santana figured it wasn't dawn yet, but that also meant the brothel wasn't open.
She would never understand the reason for Sebastian's decisions, but she knew Sebastian was capable of cruel things. He was ruthless and greedy. A Slave-Trader everyone feared, but Santana refused to give him that satisfaction and as punishment her body bared scars to her pride. She noticed the expression of fear on other slaves' faces as they tried to make sense of the commotion.
“What's going on?” Kitty whispered.
Santana shrugged. It was much too early to be fed. The only reason Sebastian would be here this early was if a slave had screwed up. Santana had let her clients return home happy, newbie slave have always been known to mess up. It had happened before and because Sebastian was such an asshole, he punished every slave with a two hour lashing. Santana gingerly touched her back and cringed at the memory.
“Line up!” Sebastian ordered, removing his whip from the holster on his hip.
Santana noticed Kitty flinch at the sight of the bullwhip. She took a step back for cover.
Quickly, the girls scattered and stood in a perfect line in under a minute. The haze of sleep gone and replaced with fear. Santana ignored the mutters of the younger girls that still couldn't understand standard protocol.
Santana grind her teeth, fighting back to tell them to shut up. She didn't need an extra lash, if they were all bound to endure a two hour punishment. Sebastian stood in front of the girls with his arms tucked behind his back.
“Listen up ladies.” He started. “We are having a special client visiting us tonight. It was requested that I open the brothel two hours in advance for the buyer's privacy.” Santana scoffed. “This is a highly valuable and respected customer! I expect you all to remain on your best behavior and do what is asked of you no matter the request. I do not want to hear a single complaint or whine from either of you and as always do not mention the identity of who enters through this door. Am I clear?!”
“Yes Master.” The rows of slaves chimed.
Satisfied, Sebastian walked to the side of the room and not a second later the sleeping chamber door opened. Santana couldn't fight the feeling of anticipation as she stared to the doorway, curious if the person walking through that door was a male or female. She only hoped it was at least a human. She hated serving demons. They were far more violent.
From the distance, Santana heard light tapping that increased in volume as it got closer. Entering the chamber, Santana nearly dropped to her knees in shock. The woman dressed in a black sleek dress with a golden necklace above the neck-line with a green gem in the middle had been Quinn.
Kitty let out a squeak, but Santana was too frozen in place in a trance to Quinn's appearance to turn and see if Kitty had fall into a heart attack.
Quinn brushed back a piece of blond hair from her face as she scanned the rows of slaves. Swiftly, Sebastian's whip was lifted above his hip and hit the floor with a crisp smack. The two dozen girls turned around. Santana picked up the sound of those red heels again. The tapping stopped behind her.
“Assume the position!” Sebastian screamed.
“As I've said before Mr. Smyth, it wasn't necessary to awaken all these girls.” Quinn said. “I only have an interest in Santana.”
“It's protocol Miss.” Sebastian insisted. “As a potential buyer you are to look over the overall health of the slave.”
Hesitantly, Santana remained still. A scoff came from behind her before she finally moved. Bending over, Santana glared down to the floor and spread her legs. A soft hand rested on to her back before moving to the curve of her hip. Two hands cupped her butt before pushing them apart. Sebastian walked over, stationed in front of Santana.
“She's had many owners during her stay here.” Sebastian informed.
“All male?” Quinn asked, her voice smooth and low.
Santana fought against the chill in her body. Quinn firmly squeezed her ass and Santana gulped. She couldn't stop her legs from trembling. A small chuckle came from Quinn that caused Santana to sigh. She wasn't as discreet as she wanted to be, but her body had grown accustom to reacting to touches due to the amount of complains from passed clients. Sebastian made sure to fix her lack of response.
Sebastian nodded. Quinn chuckled and tsked.
“Her ass is quite the prized possession.” Sebastian smirked.
Santana's jaw clenched. She knew of her valued assets, but she had hated the way Sebastian boasted about it in a deeming way to lower Santana as a human. A hand firmly squeezed down on Santana's left cheek before being removed.
“I can see why.” Quinn sharply spoke. “Is there a reason why she's had so many owners?”
Santana shifted her feet restlessly. Taking note, Sebastian lightly tapped his whip against Santana's back. The action being effective enough to crush the fire in Santana's chest. She wanted more than anything to beat Sebastian senseless and the customer too.
“She's very disobedient.” Sebastian replied. “She has been known to attack her handlers. Santana isn't the one for you.”
“On the contrary Mr. Smyth, she is exactly what I'm looking for.” Quinn insisted. “Stand up and face me.”
Santana looked back into the swirl of green and red eyes with a frown. The look of hatred she projected to this spoiled and highly privileged woman did little to deter Quinn's poise stature. A hand reached out, cupping Santana's cheek and a finger ran along the length of her thick bottom lip.
Quinn smiled. “Hello Santana.” She brushed the tip of her nose against Santana's cheek. “Your mouth is just as attractive.”
Santana moved her head away in disgust. Sebastian glared at her and lifted his whip a second time.
“That's alright Mr. Smyth.” Quinn sternly spoke, staring back into Santana's brown eyes. “No need to hit her. She hasn't upset me in any way.”
Santana glanced back over to Sebastian who kept the same scowl on her. She had broken rules. It didn't matter how long she's been here. She hated this place and she hated every person that walked in here too overpowered by their desire to get off and see any of these girls as human beings.
But she especially hated Quinn for not coming to visit her for an entire week, only to show up and take her away. She was purchasing Santana, like cattle.
Santana took a small quip of pride disrespecting Sebastian and defacing his reputation as a professional businessman. Sebastian hated looking bad in front of any client. His reputation was important to his business. Santana would expect to get another lashing later on tonight.
“I'll take her.”
Sebastian's frown dropped. “Ma'am, please, I insist you do not want anything to do with-”
“I've made my decision.” Quinn interrupted. “She is what I want Mr. Smyth. How much?”
Sebastian sighed. “Yes ma'am. Considering her temperament, I'll cut you a deal. 50 grand.”
Quinn smiled. “Agreed. I will have my men pay you half in an hour and the rest tomorrow morning.” The woman walked toward the door. “It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Smyth.”
***
Santana didn't have a chance to say good bye to Kitty. She was taken out of the cell, clothed, and chained by her wrist and neck in the next half hour. Sebastian made some effort to have Santana bathed. Granted, this brothel had no bathroom, other than holes in the ground for the slaves' use.
She had to be taken out back and shoved into a large wooden bucket full of cold water from the hose. The rest of her body was scrubbed raw and red with soap that smelled so strong of lilac it made her dizzy. She's never had a smell so sweet choke her that she near was ready to jump out of the tub. The scrubbing had been over before Santana had reached her limit of this overpowering smell and she was groomed after.
Her hair had gotten badly knotted over time and had to be cut to the top of her shoulders then brushed out. The smell of lilac still strongly clinging to her skin. Then finally she was clothed in an itchy old potato sack and sent off. She couldn't understand why she was blindfolded when she was done being decorated. One of the brothel guards guided her into the car out front and she was off.
The entire car ride was silent and Santana couldn't tell if she was alone, or if someone was with her. It had been a two hour drive before it stopped. Her question had been answered when she heard noise on the other side of the car that hadn't been her and once again, she was guided out of the car.
A strong hand latched on to her arm and up a flight of steps. Irritated, she scratched at the skin underneath the potato sack. It was strange to be clothed and wearing shoes again. Despite the clothes Sebastian had given her was a rucksack, she had gotten used to being physically exposed.
The sound of doors opening spiked a feel of anxiety into Santana and her thoughts were washed out with the sound of her footsteps echoing loudly through the main entrance. She was told to remain still, but the blindfold had not been taken off. She could faintly hear muttering behind her.
“Alright, let's go.” The guard instructed.
He had kept a hand on Santana's shoulder as they continued to walk again. The path taking her up two flights of stars, but the floor was padded as Santana could no longer hear neither of their footsteps.
“Hold still.” The guard spoke again.
The tip of his blazer, lightly grazing Santana's wrist as he walked beside her. She could pick up the sound of rustling then the shake of keys. A lock clicked free and the same clink of keys as they were put away.
“Thank you Puck.” This voice was not as smooth as the woman in the brothel.
Puck let out a grunt before walking away and Santana was washed in silence. The tip of her fingers drummed against her thighs. The longer she stood in this silence, still blindfolded, the more anxious she became. But be there no statement of rules, Santana knew better than to remove the cloth at free will.
It was a privilege to be here, to do, and be given anything. A simple action was to be asked. Santana was to gain permission. The uneasy silence was finally ripped apart with the sound of crisp and sharp heels from inside the room.
“Come inside.”
Carefully, Santana made her way inside, using the tips of her fingers to navigate around the room. When she had moved passed the doorway the door behind her slammed shut. Anxiously, Santana froze, biting her bottom lip to wait for farther commands. She hadn't been outside or in a new surrounding in the last ten years.
Sebastian's cold and violent behavior had been all she knew. At least that was predictable. The owner that had been persistent on purchasing Santana was completely a new playing field. What if she was much more worse than Sebastian?
“Hello Santana.” The woman greeted.
Santana flinched as the blindfold settled on Santana's face was roughly tugged down. The shift in light nearly blinded her. Blinking several times, Santana adjusted to the change and found herself in front of Rachel, who held a glare as a greeting.
“The Mistress apologizes about the blindfold.” Rachel grumbled. “The last two slaves escaped during their travel.”
She motioned to the room around them, leaving Santana in complete awe. The room had been big enough to be its own apartment. A dream home Santana never dared to think it would be hers. It was twice the size of the room Santana was to share with twenty other women back at the brothel.
The rug looked expensive, much like the furniture decorating this room, down to the drapes. All a price and value Santana had thought to only be possible in books, let alone see in person and during her lifetime. The bed to the far right of the room was beautiful.
A queen size mattress, neatly decorated in deep purple sheets and white plush pillows. The sight of the bed had brought a push of exhaustion into Santana she had not been aware of since the start of her transportation from the brothel. It had left her far more exhausted than she expected.
“This is your room.” The woman explained. “You are to rise at 6am sharp, breakfast is served downstairs at 7am, there you will be given your choirs, and bed time is at 10pm.”
She pulled out the chair tucked underneath Santana's vanity desk and took a seat.
“The Mistress is very strict about curfew. You are to not leave unless granted permission. The bathroom is across from the bed should you have to use it during the night. And I am to help guide and train you during your stay.” The woman sat back up. “You are to be the Mistress's personal assistant should you pass your training.”
Rachel spoke with such a bitter tone Santana. She wanted nothing to do with Santana, but she had been given orders to train Santana for the new position, while Quinn attended to her duties.
“You'll need to get fitted for your new clothes.” Rachel blurted. “As of right now, your closets are empty, but we can get you something to wear by the Mistress's personal tailors. Kurt?!”
Quickly, the bedroom door was pushed open and in came a slim, blue-eyed, pale, and fashionably dressed young man. He fixed the flaps of his already perfectly neat collar, and brushed a hand through his slicked back brown hair.
“Hello Rachel.” He responded.
“Please take Santana to Tina. The Mistress wants both her wardrobe closets to be filled.” Rachel instructed. “She'll have a cow if she saw Santana right now.”
“Yes, right away.” Kurt agreed, cringing as he noticed Santana's choice of outfit and took a hold of her shoulder. “Follow me, quickly!”
Completely unresponsive, Kurt took a hold of Santana's arm and yanked her out the room.
“Where were you?” Russell glared.
Quinn turned around to see purple angry eyes glaring at her. She wrapped her arms around her trench coat. Russell walked farther into the foyer. As he drew closer, he begun to tower over Quinn with his large stature. The 6'5” height had done little to startle Quinn as it had done to many humans and demons alike.
“I went out.” Quinn answered.
Quinn fought to give a resentful stare back as it would do no good, but to have her dad scold her through the night if he could. Russell never cared what Quinn did, or where she went, but it had changed three days after her birthday. He became more intrusive and authoritative.
“You went to that club again didn't you?” Russell huffed.
“Yes dad, I did.” Quinn snapped. “If you already knew why would you ask?”
“I wanted to make sure that foul human of yours wasn't lying to me.” Russell rebutted.
Quinn remained a calm exterior, while her mind ran into a flurry of fear to Rachel's safety. Russell had no respect or care for humans. He only tolerated the ones in his house because they carried out his daily routines. He wasn't going to get his hands dirty in trying to cut a lawn and tend to the flowers in the yard. He most definitely wasn't going to clean his own house or cook his own meals.
“Did you -”
“I didn't lay a finger on her.” Russell answered. “I can't stand that she lives on the same floor as us and how she follows you everywhere, but I'll leave you to treat her how you see fit.”
A shred of relief washed through Quinn. Russell came closer, letting out a snort of frustration. The beastly appearance to his features much clearer. He had black veins rigged around his skin that contrast immensely with his pale purple flesh, elongated black pointed nails, two small horns protruding from his forehead, stretched out sharp teeth, topped with pointed ears, and those haunting menacing purple eyes.
Russell was one of the top hideous half-breeds, but Quinn was sure with his appearance he didn't qualify as a half-breed, but rather an alternation of his former human self. He had qualities of a demon. The snarling, growling, roaring, brute strength, and temperament of a demon. That would make him just a shell of his old form. It was the perks given to a man that had been the cause of the New World Order.
Which gave him a large enough title to have anyone and anything fear him. Russell let out a rugged snort as his face scrunched up with distaste to the topic choice of their conversation.
“That isn't the point Lucy!” Russell insisted. “What I will not stand for is your childish behavior. I told you to stop your nonsense the day after your birthday. You have bigger responsibilities now!”
Quinn let out a heavy sigh. She didn't want to have this conversation, let alone an argument with her father after such an enjoyable night with Santana.
“I'm aware.” Quinn agreed. “I know what I have to do and that will come. I just wanted some fun before everything changes later on.”
Russell became more at ease. The puff in his chest disappeared and the low hum of his growling ceased. He looked Quinn over, questioning her statement.
“You know my intentions are just Lucy.” Russell stated. “I only want the best for you.”
“I know.” Quinn responded.
“I'm having guest over in two days for brunch.” Russell announced. “I expect you to be here and dressed presentably for their arrival.”
“Of course daddy.” Quinn smiled.
Pleased with his response, Russell walked away with no further complaints. Quinn silently rushed up the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor where Rachel sat upon her bed for her arrival. She had heard the entire argument downstairs.
“Mistress?” Rachel asked.
Quinn sat next to Rachel where she held Quinn while she silently cried.
***
“Hey!!” Kitty shouted, snapping her fingers in front of Santana.
She blinked several times before spotting Kitty's hand and blankly stared into Kitty's face. The lack of a reaction startled Kitty. She put her hand down and leaned closer over the table.
“You okay?” Kitty asked.
While they didn't usually talk during lunch, mainly because they were trying to find a way to stomach the slop they served the slaves. Not that meals were something to looking forward to. The slop thrown to them was sometimes a gray and gooey mush. It was difficult to swallow, much less chew, and it tasted of the most foul thing any human could ever eat. The only thing comforting was the fresh water served, but it was never cold.
Today the gruel was a thick galatnious texture that had a tan color, but it had done its purpose to feed the girls. The slaves didn't starve, somewhat. They were fed once a day and if they misbehaved they could be fed as little as twice a week. Santana hasn't seen that in the past three years.
Any matter, it was better to work the brothel on a full stomach rather than starve for the rest of the day. The day with no food meant the slaves had no fuel to work and displeasing the clients was a thin ice no one wished to walk across, should Sebastian find a slave was completely inadequate.
Santana picked up her spoon and rest her chin on to her right hand as she stared into her bowl of gruel. A sickening sequencing sound came from the bowl as the spoon was lifted and plopped back down. Kitty cringed.
“Is something bothering you?” Kitty questioned.
Santana glanced up at her with a visible pout. It would be an understatement to say she was bothered. It had been exactly a week since Santana's heard or seen Quinn. She couldn't forget their time at the club. Quinn seemed to enjoy her company and Santana would never dare say it, but she enjoyed it too. Quinn didn't push her into anything. They spent the night exploring the club with Quinn showing her the things the club offered and the crazy fetishes not only the demons had, but the humans. Who had been more than willing to attend this club. They took complete joy in spending time with their owners.
Quinn hadn't confirmed she'll see Santana again, but she assumed she would stop by the following day. By the end of the week Santana had given up wondering if Quinn would show. A wave of disappointment replaced her patience. She grew angry and bitter.
“Quinn hasn't come by in a week.” Santana mumbled.
She had no concern to hide her disappointment. Kitty perked up with a devilish smile.
“You were with Quinn that night?” She grinned.
Santana placed her spoon down and took a sip of her lukewarm cup of water. She cringed as she swallowed.
“Did she wear a mask that time?” Kitty prodded.
“No.” Santana muttered.
Kitty chuckled. “Oh, I know that look! You're completely smitten by her aren't you?!”
Santana scoffed. “I am not.”
Kitty crossed her arms with a scowl in place. “Don't lie to me. It's insulting to our friendship.”
Santana hunched over the table with a heavy sigh and threaded a hand into her hair. It had knotted again as Sebastian had no intention of letting Santana wear the braid Rachel had set in. The collar and leash were thrown away.
“She's attractive.” Santana admitted.
Kitty shrugged, accepting that would be the only closest to a confession she would get. Santana had her pride as much as Kitty had hers. It didn't always keep them grounded, but it gave them clear limits, though some weren't as clear during communication.
“We uh...” Santana rubbed the back of her neck, while she began to blush.
Kitty shot up into her chair, startling the four girls next to them and glared for them to turn away. Kitty had the largest smug grin Santana has ever seen and that only increased her embarrassment.
“I knew it!” Kitty yelped. “Was she good?”
“Kitty!” Santana hissed.
“Oh come on. It's Quinn Fabray. I think everyone has had wet dreams about her!” Kitty proclaimed.
Taking notice of a guard at the far cafeteria shifting and eyeing Kitty and Santana, Kitty began to calm down and become frantic in her motions. Santana was glaring back at her.
“Why do you look so disappointed?” Kitty asked.
“It's been a week.” Santana snapped.
“Hmm.” Kitty hummed. “That good, huh?”
“Just shut up Kitty!” Santana growled.
Kitty laughed and picked up a scoop of her slop. She nudged Santana's hand, affectionately.
“Cheer up.” She coaxed. “I'm not used to seeing my verbal spar buddy this down. If it's one thing I know, no one can resist Santana Lopez. She'll come back. Trust me.”
Santana gave a painful smile in Kitty's direction and the two friends ate the rest of today's meal. They had a long day before bed time.
***
“Wake up! All of you on your feet!” Sebastian shouted, slamming a nine inch lead pipe along the wall as he walked.
The sound of his boots stomping against the concrete as the pipe rattled through the room brought a sharp pain to the back of Santana's skull. Sebastian glared at the group of slaves that arose to their crude awakening.
The metal walls surrounding the room had caused the noise of Sebastian's voice to echo and increase into a sound that had painfully pierced Santana's ears. Kitty was up for Santana and looked just as irritated. As the slaves began to understand the situation they roused from the floor.
Stretching up from the floor and cringing as her body ached, Santana scanned the room. Nothing had changed and looking down to herself she was still bound in her collar with her entire body bare. It was difficult to judge the time of day due to the lack of windows, but Sebastian had the decency to include air ventilation. A dead slave was a useless one and Sebastian hated losing money.
As Sebastian walked along the perimeter of the holding-cell, Santana cringed hearing him hit the wall a last time before dropping the pipe to the ground. Judging from the unusual amount of aching her body did, Santana figured it wasn't dawn yet, but that also meant the brothel wasn't open.
She would never understand the reason for Sebastian's decisions, but she knew Sebastian was capable of cruel things. He was ruthless and greedy. A Slave-Trader everyone feared, but Santana refused to give him that satisfaction and as punishment her body bared scars to her pride. She noticed the expression of fear on other slaves' faces as they tried to make sense of the commotion.
“What's going on?” Kitty whispered.
Santana shrugged. It was much too early to be fed. The only reason Sebastian would be here this early was if a slave had screwed up. Santana had let her clients return home happy, newbie slave have always been known to mess up. It had happened before and because Sebastian was such an asshole, he punished every slave with a two hour lashing. Santana gingerly touched her back and cringed at the memory.
“Line up!” Sebastian ordered, removing his whip from the holster on his hip.
Santana noticed Kitty flinch at the sight of the bullwhip. She took a step back for cover.
Quickly, the girls scattered and stood in a perfect line in under a minute. The haze of sleep gone and replaced with fear. Santana ignored the mutters of the younger girls that still couldn't understand standard protocol.
Santana grind her teeth, fighting back to tell them to shut up. She didn't need an extra lash, if they were all bound to endure a two hour punishment. Sebastian stood in front of the girls with his arms tucked behind his back.
“Listen up ladies.” He started. “We are having a special client visiting us tonight. It was requested that I open the brothel two hours in advance for the buyer's privacy.” Santana scoffed. “This is a highly valuable and respected customer! I expect you all to remain on your best behavior and do what is asked of you no matter the request. I do not want to hear a single complaint or whine from either of you and as always do not mention the identity of who enters through this door. Am I clear?!”
“Yes Master.” The rows of slaves chimed.
Satisfied, Sebastian walked to the side of the room and not a second later the sleeping chamber door opened. Santana couldn't fight the feeling of anticipation as she stared to the doorway, curious if the person walking through that door was a male or female. She only hoped it was at least a human. She hated serving demons. They were far more violent.
From the distance, Santana heard light tapping that increased in volume as it got closer. Entering the chamber, Santana nearly dropped to her knees in shock. The woman dressed in a black sleek dress with a golden necklace above the neck-line with a green gem in the middle had been Quinn.
Kitty let out a squeak, but Santana was too frozen in place in a trance to Quinn's appearance to turn and see if Kitty had fall into a heart attack.
Quinn brushed back a piece of blond hair from her face as she scanned the rows of slaves. Swiftly, Sebastian's whip was lifted above his hip and hit the floor with a crisp smack. The two dozen girls turned around. Santana picked up the sound of those red heels again. The tapping stopped behind her.
“Assume the position!” Sebastian screamed.
“As I've said before Mr. Smyth, it wasn't necessary to awaken all these girls.” Quinn said. “I only have an interest in Santana.”
“It's protocol Miss.” Sebastian insisted. “As a potential buyer you are to look over the overall health of the slave.”
Hesitantly, Santana remained still. A scoff came from behind her before she finally moved. Bending over, Santana glared down to the floor and spread her legs. A soft hand rested on to her back before moving to the curve of her hip. Two hands cupped her butt before pushing them apart. Sebastian walked over, stationed in front of Santana.
“She's had many owners during her stay here.” Sebastian informed.
“All male?” Quinn asked, her voice smooth and low.
Santana fought against the chill in her body. Quinn firmly squeezed her ass and Santana gulped. She couldn't stop her legs from trembling. A small chuckle came from Quinn that caused Santana to sigh. She wasn't as discreet as she wanted to be, but her body had grown accustom to reacting to touches due to the amount of complains from passed clients. Sebastian made sure to fix her lack of response.
Sebastian nodded. Quinn chuckled and tsked.
“Her ass is quite the prized possession.” Sebastian smirked.
Santana's jaw clenched. She knew of her valued assets, but she had hated the way Sebastian boasted about it in a deeming way to lower Santana as a human. A hand firmly squeezed down on Santana's left cheek before being removed.
“I can see why.” Quinn sharply spoke. “Is there a reason why she's had so many owners?”
Santana shifted her feet restlessly. Taking note, Sebastian lightly tapped his whip against Santana's back. The action being effective enough to crush the fire in Santana's chest. She wanted more than anything to beat Sebastian senseless and the customer too.
“She's very disobedient.” Sebastian replied. “She has been known to attack her handlers. Santana isn't the one for you.”
“On the contrary Mr. Smyth, she is exactly what I'm looking for.” Quinn insisted. “Stand up and face me.”
Santana looked back into the swirl of green and red eyes with a frown. The look of hatred she projected to this spoiled and highly privileged woman did little to deter Quinn's poise stature. A hand reached out, cupping Santana's cheek and a finger ran along the length of her thick bottom lip.
Quinn smiled. “Hello Santana.” She brushed the tip of her nose against Santana's cheek. “Your mouth is just as attractive.”
Santana moved her head away in disgust. Sebastian glared at her and lifted his whip a second time.
“That's alright Mr. Smyth.” Quinn sternly spoke, staring back into Santana's brown eyes. “No need to hit her. She hasn't upset me in any way.”
Santana glanced back over to Sebastian who kept the same scowl on her. She had broken rules. It didn't matter how long she's been here. She hated this place and she hated every person that walked in here too overpowered by their desire to get off and see any of these girls as human beings.
But she especially hated Quinn for not coming to visit her for an entire week, only to show up and take her away. She was purchasing Santana, like cattle.
Santana took a small quip of pride disrespecting Sebastian and defacing his reputation as a professional businessman. Sebastian hated looking bad in front of any client. His reputation was important to his business. Santana would expect to get another lashing later on tonight.
“I'll take her.”
Sebastian's frown dropped. “Ma'am, please, I insist you do not want anything to do with-”
“I've made my decision.” Quinn interrupted. “She is what I want Mr. Smyth. How much?”
Sebastian sighed. “Yes ma'am. Considering her temperament, I'll cut you a deal. 50 grand.”
Quinn smiled. “Agreed. I will have my men pay you half in an hour and the rest tomorrow morning.” The woman walked toward the door. “It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Smyth.”
***
Santana didn't have a chance to say good bye to Kitty. She was taken out of the cell, clothed, and chained by her wrist and neck in the next half hour. Sebastian made some effort to have Santana bathed. Granted, this brothel had no bathroom, other than holes in the ground for the slaves' use.
She had to be taken out back and shoved into a large wooden bucket full of cold water from the hose. The rest of her body was scrubbed raw and red with soap that smelled so strong of lilac it made her dizzy. She's never had a smell so sweet choke her that she near was ready to jump out of the tub. The scrubbing had been over before Santana had reached her limit of this overpowering smell and she was groomed after.
Her hair had gotten badly knotted over time and had to be cut to the top of her shoulders then brushed out. The smell of lilac still strongly clinging to her skin. Then finally she was clothed in an itchy old potato sack and sent off. She couldn't understand why she was blindfolded when she was done being decorated. One of the brothel guards guided her into the car out front and she was off.
The entire car ride was silent and Santana couldn't tell if she was alone, or if someone was with her. It had been a two hour drive before it stopped. Her question had been answered when she heard noise on the other side of the car that hadn't been her and once again, she was guided out of the car.
A strong hand latched on to her arm and up a flight of steps. Irritated, she scratched at the skin underneath the potato sack. It was strange to be clothed and wearing shoes again. Despite the clothes Sebastian had given her was a rucksack, she had gotten used to being physically exposed.
The sound of doors opening spiked a feel of anxiety into Santana and her thoughts were washed out with the sound of her footsteps echoing loudly through the main entrance. She was told to remain still, but the blindfold had not been taken off. She could faintly hear muttering behind her.
“Alright, let's go.” The guard instructed.
He had kept a hand on Santana's shoulder as they continued to walk again. The path taking her up two flights of stars, but the floor was padded as Santana could no longer hear neither of their footsteps.
“Hold still.” The guard spoke again.
The tip of his blazer, lightly grazing Santana's wrist as he walked beside her. She could pick up the sound of rustling then the shake of keys. A lock clicked free and the same clink of keys as they were put away.
“Thank you Puck.” This voice was not as smooth as the woman in the brothel.
Puck let out a grunt before walking away and Santana was washed in silence. The tip of her fingers drummed against her thighs. The longer she stood in this silence, still blindfolded, the more anxious she became. But be there no statement of rules, Santana knew better than to remove the cloth at free will.
It was a privilege to be here, to do, and be given anything. A simple action was to be asked. Santana was to gain permission. The uneasy silence was finally ripped apart with the sound of crisp and sharp heels from inside the room.
“Come inside.”
Carefully, Santana made her way inside, using the tips of her fingers to navigate around the room. When she had moved passed the doorway the door behind her slammed shut. Anxiously, Santana froze, biting her bottom lip to wait for farther commands. She hadn't been outside or in a new surrounding in the last ten years.
Sebastian's cold and violent behavior had been all she knew. At least that was predictable. The owner that had been persistent on purchasing Santana was completely a new playing field. What if she was much more worse than Sebastian?
“Hello Santana.” The woman greeted.
Santana flinched as the blindfold settled on Santana's face was roughly tugged down. The shift in light nearly blinded her. Blinking several times, Santana adjusted to the change and found herself in front of Rachel, who held a glare as a greeting.
“The Mistress apologizes about the blindfold.” Rachel grumbled. “The last two slaves escaped during their travel.”
She motioned to the room around them, leaving Santana in complete awe. The room had been big enough to be its own apartment. A dream home Santana never dared to think it would be hers. It was twice the size of the room Santana was to share with twenty other women back at the brothel.
The rug looked expensive, much like the furniture decorating this room, down to the drapes. All a price and value Santana had thought to only be possible in books, let alone see in person and during her lifetime. The bed to the far right of the room was beautiful.
A queen size mattress, neatly decorated in deep purple sheets and white plush pillows. The sight of the bed had brought a push of exhaustion into Santana she had not been aware of since the start of her transportation from the brothel. It had left her far more exhausted than she expected.
“This is your room.” The woman explained. “You are to rise at 6am sharp, breakfast is served downstairs at 7am, there you will be given your choirs, and bed time is at 10pm.”
She pulled out the chair tucked underneath Santana's vanity desk and took a seat.
“The Mistress is very strict about curfew. You are to not leave unless granted permission. The bathroom is across from the bed should you have to use it during the night. And I am to help guide and train you during your stay.” The woman sat back up. “You are to be the Mistress's personal assistant should you pass your training.”
Rachel spoke with such a bitter tone Santana. She wanted nothing to do with Santana, but she had been given orders to train Santana for the new position, while Quinn attended to her duties.
“You'll need to get fitted for your new clothes.” Rachel blurted. “As of right now, your closets are empty, but we can get you something to wear by the Mistress's personal tailors. Kurt?!”
Quickly, the bedroom door was pushed open and in came a slim, blue-eyed, pale, and fashionably dressed young man. He fixed the flaps of his already perfectly neat collar, and brushed a hand through his slicked back brown hair.
“Hello Rachel.” He responded.
“Please take Santana to Tina. The Mistress wants both her wardrobe closets to be filled.” Rachel instructed. “She'll have a cow if she saw Santana right now.”
“Yes, right away.” Kurt agreed, cringing as he noticed Santana's choice of outfit and took a hold of her shoulder. “Follow me, quickly!”
Completely unresponsive, Kurt took a hold of Santana's arm and yanked her out the room.