Unwillingly Bound

L

loyalist_historian

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Seventeen year old Mahree Bennett glanced around in the dim, flickering light of the pawn shop cellar. Despite the fact that no possible 'clients', as Mahree heard the shopkeeper referred to them, examined her or the others like her she periodically caught sight of, Mahree stayed on high alert. Or as high alert as she could, considering the strain it put on her hazel eyes. She heard a myriad of noises and conversing from the floor above, and...what if someone asked the shopkeeper for what he kept hidden? Mahree was pretty sure she hadn't been there a week, but it seemed obvious to her that the shopkeeper saw something he liked. If the constant calls, periodic grabs, and continuous attempts to show her off to 'clients' meant anything.

Even while the shopkeeper stayed away, Mahree kept herself as far from the front of her cage as she could, quite literally flush against the bars at the back wall. Her long dark brown hair still sat in the same braid she'd worn when brought here, although it lay a bit more messy over her right shoulder. Her head gently swiveled from side to side, hazel eyes blinking as she examined the various other men and women--most older than her, and, she noticed with horror, some far younger--in their own cages.

But no one was there to buy, and, as vigilant as Mahree kept herself, for that she was grateful.

Mahree tried to reach up and push a brown bang out of her eyes, only to wince and hiss in pain at the painful stab the motion sent through her arm. Looking down, she remembered too late that her wrists were bound. The bindings did nothing--that injection the shopkeeper had used, Mahree thought, was what kept her from doing those things she...didn't really understand anyway.

Mahree thought the bindings, along with the uncomfortably revealing green set the shopkeeper had forced her into when she'd come, an attempt to present her sexually. And an unsettled and downright frightened feeling overcame her as she thought about that suspicion.

Given the situation, she would much rather be bought--Mahree grimaced at the thought of being purchased--by someone who needed a cleaning person or...something equally as harmless than by someone stimulated by seeing a young girl--a child, technically, even if she had the body of a woman--bound while in a cage. The entire situation terrified her. And she wanted to badly to curl up in a ball and cry. She had spent a significant amount of time doing so already, in fact, and some dried tears slightly painted her cheeks, streaking the sultry makeup she had been forced to apply. She wanted to cry again, but crying would only draw more attention to her, and she couldn't have that. Mahree had to stay as unnoticed as possible, if she were to make it through.

She would do her best to act much older and mature than she thought she, as a seventeen year old, should have to given the fact that she was to be sold.

She had no other choice.

The door to the cellar opened, and a man in a suit followed behind the seedy shopkeeper. The suit appeared no older than thirty-five, with generic, unmemorable features. And his quick purchase of her made it obvious that he had known what he was looking for.

The shopkeeper and the suit disappeared once more, presumably to complete the transaction, and then Mahree was removed from the cage. The suit unbound her hands--he seemed to know that she wouldn't have the courage nor the strength to legitimately try to fight back or run--and Mahree started shivering slightly, the blood and feeling rushing back to her hands.

She undid the braid holding her hair back, it cascading messily over one side of her head. Mahree cautiously stuck one arm and then the other through the sleeves of a coat the shopkeeper draped over her shoulders, blinking heavily as his hands skimmed over her collarbone.

"You can take it out through the back," the shopkeeper told the suit, handing the man a compact burlap sack that seemed full of...something. Mahree quickly tied the coat tightly around herself. "One a day'll keep it from fucking around with whatever it can do. Great doing business with your guy again."

And the suit pulled Mahree, who now tried to slightly pull out of the suits' firm grip before complying as she realized that that wasn't going to happen, to a black limousine discreetly parked in an alleyway behind the shop. He stowed her in the back, saying no words to her and answering no questions as he drove her.

And as they drove up to a mansion, he looked back to her through the rear-view mirror, sighing very lightly before putting the limousine into park. He took her arm once more, leading her up the pavement, to the front door, and inside the mansion to her new master.
 
In order to run a successful business, you had to have the right state of mind. You needed to be smart, cunning, and ready to get your hands dirty if need be. The young man had certainly done all that and more to get his business up and booming. He had started with next to nothing, a couple dollars in his pocket and a dream to be very successful when he grew up. That's when he studied hard in school, got into an excellent college and earned a degree in Business and Management. From there he worked his way to the top, stepping over whoever got in his way. Finally at age twenty-five, the man was running his own business and was steadily making millions.

His business dealt in the import and export of fine goods, anywhere from a piece of cloth to an endangered species that someone wanted to keep as a pet. Some of what he did was good, right as the law stated it. While on the other hand, some of what he did was downright horrible, doing whatever he could to get the extra buck. Though it didn't matter much anymore, seeing as he was already sitting on millions. He was untouchable, which is exactly why he let himself have some fun.

Which is why at that very moment, one of his good men was out getting him a little surprise. See, the man liked to live dangerously. He liked to do stuff that pushed the bounds of the law, to see just how far he could go before someone stepped in to try and stop him. Yes, he'd had his run ins with the police, but either he paid them off or spent a few nights in jail. It was never anything bad, seeing as most of the police came to him when they needed something badly. He kind of ran the town, but always kept himself out of the light. He had only wanted to make his millions, and now that he had, he usually kept to himself, only really having fun when he saw fit.

Buttoning up the black shirt that he had slipped into, the male brushed off the few pieces of lint that stuck to the fabric as he admired himself in the mirror. Smirking as he looked on, the man knew that he was handsome. He had soft, light skin, with a few freckles here and there. A birthmark was the only thing that prevented his skin from being almost flawless. It was a ragged looking spot on the left side of his neck. He had thought about doing something with it, but he always stopped himself from actually going through with it. The mark was a reminder that he wasn't flawless, and that he was simply a man like everyone else. Though a bit more handsome. Especially with his high cheekbones and auburn colored hair. It helped too that his eyes were a sharp grey color, making his eyelashes seem to be a lot darker than they actually were.

Smirking once again, the man finished admiring himself as he knew his surprise would be there soon. Slipping black shoes onto his feet to finish off his choice of an outfit that day, the man started to head down to the living room of his mansion. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before they got there, and he didn't want to seem like a bad host. Chuckling to himself, Rhett pushed a hand through his hair as he descended the stairs, getting excited with each step he took. He felt like a young boy on Christmas morning, just a more sick and twisted little boy.

Rounding the bottom of the staircase and heading in the direction of the doorway and living room, the male sighed heavily as he heard the door open, they were there. Smirking lightly, he made his way towards them, shoving one hand into the pocket of his pants, "Hello my dear. I'm Rhett, and I'll be your new master." The smirk all but filled his face as he looked down at her, already know that this was going to be fun.
 
The suit--John Evans, Mahree had learned, from a label on his briefcase--gripped her by the arm and opened the door, closing it behind them once they were inside and finally releasing her arm. Mahree looked around in frightened awe at the interior of the mansion. It was wondrously beautiful, and so intricately decorated. If Mahree had not already been stunned to silence by the situation itself, the mansion would have certainly done it.

But Mahree's petrification was of uncertainty for what would come. Now, tonight, tomorrow, next week. For the rest of her life.

This was more out of control than she felt when Aimee taunted her for being adopted.

She heard a sigh, and glanced to a room at the side to see where it had come from, but saw nothing and turned back. She still examined the mansion, but, now, more to take in her surroundings. Know--or try to know--where she was.

And then she heard pounding loafers and a call from the same direction as the sigh, and Mahree turned abruptly, all trepidation ignored.

"Hello my dear. I'm Rhett, and I'll be your new master."

She saw the man. He looked older than her, although she couldn't tell much. She wasn't really trying. A smirk made his face resemble a bearded dragon. It terrified her. She noticed his obvious good looks, but his expression terrified her, and the way he looked at her terrified her, and the way he spoke to her. It terrified her.

She pulled the coat tighter to herself.

She knew their was a fallout of one type or another with his knowledge and hers, because she was so fucking shell-shocked by this entire situation, she wasn't even sure how to respond to him.

Evans stepped around, moving to approach Rhett. "Sir," he started, simply--this was a man of few words. He moved the burlap bag a little bit higher to show Rhett. "The shopkeeper sent these to keep her in check."

Mahree didn't think they'd be needed.

After a moment, she found her words, and spoke up, although her eyes were still impossibly wide. "Why am I here?" The question was vague, and her tone pleading. Mahree was sure he would know what she was asking.
 
((Clarification--NOW, Rhett is twenty-five, right?))
 
The first thing he noticed when he looked down at the girl was the terrified look on her face, but he already knew she would be terrified. She had just been purchased like a slave and was now forced to come to his home and stay for as long as he so wished. It was an interesting feeling, being able to actually purchase another human being. It was as if he could literally do anything he wanted, and he was enjoying every moment of it. He was as giddy as that child on Christmas morning, feeling like this was the present he had waited for, for years. And now he was getting it. He did it for the control though, always wanting to control his life and anything else that may cross his path and strike his interest.

Lifting his eyes from the female before him, Rhett focused now on the man before him, "Excellent. Thank you, Evans." The man was not that crazy that he couldn't show his manners, and still treated those that helped him with respect. Taking the bag, the man pushed it into the pocket of his pants as he turned his attention back onto Mahree, raising a brow curiously as she finally spoke, and he chuckled softly at the question.

"You'll soon figure that out." It was an obvious statement, but Rhett didn't want to ruin anything by spoiling the surprise. Whatever sick and twisted thoughts that were running through his head made him smile lightly, shifting on his feet as he looked down at the girl, "If you would like, you can explore the house, get familiar with it." His grey eyes flashed as he looked down at her, smiling softly. He figured it would be better to ease her into the whole thing, letting her get to know where she would be staying for however long. He didn't care if she tried to escape or thought she might, he had men all around the house to protect him. But they weren't just for keeping people out, they did a good job at keeping people in as well.
 
Mahree's knuckles whitened as she pulled the coat tighter and tighter to herself. She saw him looking over her, and she hated the feeling it sent through her. She felt completely vulnerable. Completely at his mercy. And she was. Every time Mahree had been punished as a toddler, every time she'd yelled as a ten year old that something wasn't fair, every time that her adoptive parents had explained that discipline was a sign of love, or grounded Aimee--never Mahree--for tormenting her older, adopted sister, Mahree knew now that she hadn't understood 'unfair'. She had never known what it was like to be at the mercy of a stranger.

She had known this man for all of thirty seconds, and she could already tell that these lessons were going to change her life completely.

Her lip trembled, her hazel eyes glittering as his own gray pair flashed. Mahree opened her mouth to say something else, and then closed it, before opening it again. "Are you going to hurt me," she asked, her voice small. She didn't even respond to his proposal. "Please, don't hurt me."

She quickly realized how little she knew about this man, and how little he knew about her. She new that his name was Rhett, and that he was wealthy. That he had purchased her, like property. That was it.

Unless he had somehow looked into her on his own, he didn't even know her name. Presumably, he saw that she was young, but did he know how young? Did he know that she was a child?

Did he care?

She pulled the coat tighter still.

Evans grew more and more unsettled by the moment, but he tried not to let this show. He certainly did not look at the girl, purposefully ignoring that area of his vision and focusing on Rhett. "Sir," he asked. "Is there anything else that I can help with, or may I go?"
 
((It's kind of sickening how many dashes I'm using 0.0. I'm a lit major, why has this never been a thing XD?))
 
He could easily tell that the girl was getting nervous, that she was slowly realizing just how bad this situation was going to turn out. Or rather, could turn out. Rhett still was unsure of how far this was going to go, or just how bad it was going to get. For all he knows, he could get rather bored and just send her on her way. It was really all up to how the next few hours, the next few days played out. Shifting on his feet as he heard her soft voice, Rhett lifted a brow slowly, looking down on her. He was realizing how young she probably was, definitely younger than eighteen, which made him question what he was really doing with her. Then he chuckled to himself and shook his head, knowing that there was no solid fact that any harm was going to come to her.

"Like I said, you may take the chance to look around. We will be having dinner in a few hours." Watching her tighten the coat around her body, the male sighed heavily as he started to realize more, "There are clothes waiting in your room. One of the maids can show you where that is." As if he was brushing her off, Rhett turned his attention over to Evans, "No, you may go." With that finished, the male turned on his heels and headed towards his office, which was down the hall from the living room. Entering, he went about getting papers in order, he needed to send out for some more items that he was importing for high paying customers.
 
Rhett didn't answer her question, but he also didn't make any type of advance, which Mahree was grateful for. It left her even more confused, though--she kept thinking the worst, and then praying that she was wrong. As he dismissed her, Mahree gratefully turned, running towards the direction he had come, which she hoped was deeper into the mansion. She found a maid, and the older woman seemed alarmed, but helped her find her room, quickly leaving after dropping Mahree off.

As Mahree turned on her heel, Evans slipped two squares of picture paper to Rhett he had been given by the shopkeeper. One was clearly of a family. Two blonde parents, arms draped around Mahree and a slightly younger looking girl with the same shade of natural white-blonde hair. The second was of Mahree and a boy. They both wore simple silver rings--promise rings--on chains around their necks. He didn't hesitate to leave, once given permission to do so. He had work to do, and first he had to find a way to get his mind off of this.

The room was large, and ornate, like the rest of the house. But there was something so alien about it. So surreal. Mahree bit her lip slightly, nervously playing with her hair, before removing her coat and folding it neatly on the large bed. She suddenly began to wonder if there were cameras in the room, and a sickening feeling rose in her stomach as she crossed her arms along her chest, trudging to the bathroom and taking a long shower. It had been several days since she had been able to do so, and Mahree wasted no time in washing her long brown hair, and scrubbing off the remainder of the makeup the shopkeeper had made her apply. The shower water soaked through a colorful trio of friendship bracelets around her left wrist, and Mahree teared up in the shower as she thought about those who had given them to her. After some time, Mahree stepped out of the shower, wrapping one towel around her body as she approached the large mirror over the sink. Without the makeup, Mahree's skin was fairer, and a sprinkling of freckles dotted around her nose and along her cheeks. Her mahogany hair, still soaking wet, stuck to the sides of her face, and to her shoulders and neck and collarbone before she grabbed a blowdryer in the cabinet, quickly blowing her hair out. Mahree simply stared at her reflection for a minute, before shaking her head and going to her room once more. The clothes in the closet all seemed to be her exact size, which would be creepy enough, but was ridiculously unsettling given...well, everything. All of the clothes seemed designed to, at one point or another, flaunt her body, and Mahree hesitantly chose a navy blue day dress. The room seemed to have a pretty decent stock of makeup in not only her foundation shades, but also in bright colors, but she did not apply any. This all just made her feel even younger--her age. And out of her league. She wondered if she should do something to hide her ring, but she knew that was largely out of the question. The dress was too low cut. And she didn't want to take it off.
 
Accepting the two pictures, Rhett had slipped them into his pocket as he walked to the office. Sitting at his desk, the male was quick at work on his computer, making sure the plans to get what the customers wanted safely into the states. It was a difficult job, but Rhett was simply good at it, he knew exactly where to look and who exactly to pay off to get the imports successfully into the country. If he wasn't smart and cunning, the male would have never been successful at this job and would have failed long before.

Finishing up with his reports and having checked to make sure everything was going as scheduled, Rhett finally pulled the photos from his pocket, holding them before him as he studied them. Raising a brow as he looked at a photo of Mahree and what he assumed to be her parents, and then a photo of Mahree and some boy. He wondered why he had been given these photos. Shrugging his shoulders, Rhett slipped them into the drawer of his desk and got to his feet. Dinner would be soon and he only realized now how starved he was. Which he assumed was the same for Mahree, knowing that she probably didn't get much at the shop. Over dinner they would be able to discuss things, and Rhett would be able to get some information out of her.
 
Mahree went for the door, closing it behind her. She glanced down the staircase, fleetingly checking if anyone was awaiting her. And then she decided to descend.

Mahree examined the various rooms in the house, vaguely remembering Rhett's invitation to explore, despite the fact that she had been focused on something very different during it.

Eventually, Mahree found her way to a large room filled with bookshelves and books. Everything there shocked her, to be sure, but Mahree couldn't help but enter into the room, looking around at the myriad of books in surprise. She pushed some loose hair behind her ear, skimming along the titles. Some of the books seemed instructional, and Mahree was quickly reminded of the fact that, back home, she would be attending school. And then she thought about her status as a prisoner there. Maybe she could...

But then why did she have to ask?

Rhett hadn't said very many words to her, but she still cringed when she thought about what he had said. He had called himself her master. How would that translate?

She didn't know. But she wanted a way to preoccupy herself while she lived here. She hoped she wouldn't have to ask for permission to educate herself. There was something so off about this entire situation.

She left the room--a library, perhaps--and continued to work her way around the mansion. A few times, she ended up in the same places, and realized that she was walking in circles.

It looked like everything about this new part of her life was going to take some getting used to.
 
((I only just now realized that I haven't told ya Mahree's ability XD. Sense manipulation. She can, in theory, alter the physiological perception of the five senses in others, but she can't, really, as she was never trained, and never tried to utilize it. Her abilities are incredibly minimal, and she hurts herself every time.))
 
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