Chapter 1
Chapter
One
RóISIN
“Bend over. Ass in the air,” the woman grunts. I was right. This woman is in charge of a faction of Hell.
Her name is Rubella, like the sickness, which is tragic in and of itself. She’s here to groom, shower, and dress me for tonight.
Hissing as the strip rips off all hair from my asshole once I’m in position and she’s placed the warm wax, I close my eyes against the pain. I’m in some sort of pain every day. This is nothing new.
That’s the mantra I tell myself as I struggle to keep myself in a place of calm as Rubella attacks the hair on my body in a way that makes me believe that it’s personally offended her.
Once she left with Alec, I used the bathroom to tend to my very insistent needs, and then I stretched and danced for two hours.
There’s a little clock up on the wall, and I used the music that plays in my mind to dance to.
When I’m lucky, I can use music as my escape from reality when I’m not in motion too.
Unfortunately, the music has a way of slipping away from me when it’s not playing. I wish I could live in the melodic space all of the time.
A hard slap on my ass makes me gasp in pain, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Raise your right leg, girl,” Rubella says. “Be quick about it. I had no idea you had so much hair on your body.”
I don’t have access to a razor, so I don’t know what she expects. Moving quickly, I close my eyes as she inspects me. It’s one more demoralizing moment that I have to endure.
“Now, there are a few pesky hairs,” she muses.
The wretched bitch goes in with tweezers, but I’m hoping my skin will begin to go numb soon. Relaxing a little, I grit my teeth and allow her to finish up.
“That’s as good as this is going to get,” she mumbles. “Stand up for me.”
The woman is a beta, which means she can’t bark me into doing shit. That doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me to get me to obey, so I move quickly until I’m standing in front of her. My skin is bright red in places, and areas of my face and pussy throb uncomfortably.
Making a face at me, she pushes my lips together and forces a pill into my mouth.
“Swallow that,” she orders, grabbing a glass of water off the table and forcing me to drink it. “Despite the fact that you dance so much, I doubt that you’ve properly evacuated your colon, so this will make you do that.”
Realizing that she is trying to make me poop, my jaw drops as my stomach begins to churn.
“Off you go,” she says, shooing me away. “Close the door behind you. I don’t need to smell the noxious fumes coming from your ass.”
Whimpering as my stomach fucking cramps, I race to the bathroom. I’m not sure how much time passes as I sweat and shudder in pain, but it’s agonizing. Finally finishing up, I’m breathing hard as I flush the toilet and clean myself.
As I’m washing my hands, Rubella unlocks the door and walks in without checking to see if I’m actually done or not. I shouldn’t be surprised, because any kind of privacy I receive is contrived at best.
“In the shower,” she orders. “We’re running late and I still have a lot to do.”
Rubella turns on the water and pushes me under the freezing cold without remorse. Teeth chattering, I begin to wash my hair. Rubella watches me the entire time as my muscles threaten to lock up as I shower. Finally, the water warms up, and I’m able to move and breathe a little easier.
“Turn around and bend over,” she barks, opening the other door to the sliding glass doors to turn on that shower head.
Not knowing why she wants me to do that, I do as she says.
“Come on,” Rubella complains.
I’m not going to lie, my asshole is swollen after the travesty that just happened to it. I’m not looking forward to what she has planned.
“For fuck’s sake, girl. Grab those ass cheeks and spread them apart. I need to make sure you’re clean,” she says.
My eyes close in humiliation as my hands move to my ass to obey her.
The water spray is freezing since she’s controlling it, and she takes care to be extra cruel. My feet move onto my toes, my tongue pasting itself to the roof of my mouth to hold back a squeal.
“I bet you’re just as much of a dead fish in the bedroom,” Rubella mutters under her breath. “I don’t know why I’m going to all of this trouble.”
She’s made sure to only touch me with gloved hands, and I noticed earlier that she’s careful to change them out as needed. In true fashion, her fingers prod at my ass, with the water spray, shoving them inside to check to make sure that I’m completely cleaned out.
I can’t help it, even though I desperately try.
Tears slide down my cheeks in shame and pain as she’s not exactly gentle, and I’m grateful for the water that’s keeping my secrets today.
Three fingers are shoved inside of my asshole, and my body threatens to react to them as goosebumps raise along my skin.
“All omegas are sluts,” Rubella murmurs under her breath. “Alright, your master will be happy enough with my work. Wash your body extra well and be quick about it.”
Turning off the other shower head that’s spewing freezing cold water, she changes out her gloves again while I pump body wash into my hands and scrub at my skin. I only half do it because she told me to, and the other half is due to wanting to erase her touch.
Once done, she pats my skin down with a towel as if I’m a toddler who can’t do it myself, and then I’m forced into a chair.
The entire time as she dries my thick hair, Rubella mutters to herself as she burns my scalp repeatedly.
Breathing through the pain I force myself not to flinch, I let her curl, braid, and pin it until it’s out of my face and flowing down my back.
After this, she does my makeup. I’ve never worn any outside of stage performances. This doesn’t seem as heavy as what I’m used to wearing, but I’m not facing a mirror, so I have no idea if she’s turning me into a clown or not.
During this entire process, I sit naked in the chair, and the door opens as she finishes. Two other women walk inside, leaving the door wide open as they do. Curling my fingers under so my nails dig into my palm, I force my expression to seem uncaring even though I’m dying with embarrassment.
The women cut my nails, paint them, and then begin to speak to Rubella as if I don’t exist.
“She has to be perfect,” Rubella hisses. “Did you bring the dress?”
“Yes,” one of the younger women says, nodding. She has her drab blonde hair up in a braided bun, and she’s wearing clothes that cover every inch of her skin.
The three of them smell evil, like pickled eggs and vinegar. There are different shades of the scent, making me vaguely wonder if they’re related.
“It’s on the bed, Mother,” the younger woman adds, answering the question I had in my passing curiosity.
Rubella checks my finger and toe nails to ensure they’re dry before pulling me up onto my feet. I’m being primped and prodded, and the dread is building at the pit of my stomach. I’m being made into the perfect doll, one that is sure to be destroyed by the end of the night.
The dress that’s brought by one of her daughters is completely see through. Still, I move where they tell me because there’s absolutely no other option.
Refusing to look in the mirror, I can tell it’s awful as I stare downward at my pretty pale, pink nails.
They’re giving off an air of “innocence”, something I’ve long lost. The white dress I’m wearing is filmy and sheer, the top showing off my pink nipples as they strain against the material, while the many bottom layers flirt with the gaze.
Shifting my weight, I see that you can see my waxed pussy through the layers with very little difficulty.
This excuse for a dress makes me feel short of breath as the women chat around me.
“Is she done yet?”
“No, Thora, not yet,” Rubella murmurs. Her finger pushes up on my chin, forcing me to look at her.
It’s impossible for me to not also catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My blue eyes are framed with dark eye shadow and mascara, continuing with the illusion of innocence. My lips are a pale pink, and alongside the white dress I’m wearing, I can see that Rubella is working with a theme.
Her fingers pry open my lips, and this is when I panic. I have no idea what she’s pushing into my mouth, but after the Shittagetton incident earlier, I don’t trust her.
“Grab her arms,” Rubella growls, causing her daughters to pull back my arms tightly as I struggle. “This is for your own good, girl. You won’t want to have any idea what’s happening tonight. It’s for your own good and the alphas who will be fucking you.”
The pill she forces onto my tongue dissolves very quickly, and Rubella shoves my mouth closed and plugs my nose so I can’t breathe.
I put up a fight, finding that I can go longer without oxygen than I ever thought.
However, Rubella is tenacious, and one of the girls behind me rubs my throat until I’m forced to swallow convulsively.
“There,” Rubella says smugly, releasing me as I gasp for breath. “Your eyes are running. Fuck, girl. Why do you have to do everything the hard way?”
Shoving me into a chair, she fixes my makeup and sprays something over my face that will keep it from running again.
“I suppose some alphas like it when they can see the tear stains,” she muses. “I was told to preserve the virgin-like vision, despite that ship having long sailed, yes?”
I remain silent, not thinking she wanted a real answer. I haven’t spoken in two years, not one word.
A slap along my temple quickly tells me that I was incorrect in my thinking.
“Speak up!” Rubella yells.
Not trusting my voice, I raise my now free hands and touch my lips before shaking my head, giving her the impression that I can’t speak.
“Of course you’re the perfect, broken doll,” she sighs. “You’ll dance barefoot tonight. No use covering up our hard work. One last thing and then we’re done.”