Chapter 29 Scarlett #2
I heard a shuffle and suddenly, the smell became less. A moment later, the door clicked shut. “We’ll let the Leaders deal with it,” Azrael hummed. I heard the strike of a match, the scent of citrus quickly following. “Open your eyes, little sinner.”
I opened them without hesitation, finding a water basin resting in front of me. Far larger than the bucket. There was a small scrub brush in there too. I recognized it from a distant memory I couldn’t quite place. It was far better quality than what usually awaited me.
“And this,” he went on, his hand appearing in my line of sight.
I inhaled sharply and quickly cast my eyes down. I had only seen them once before, and they were exactly how I remembered. Long, strong-looking fingers, veins protruding, the blood red cuff of a nice shirt.
He stepped back. “Look.”
I swallowed, allowing only a second of hesitation before I lifted my eyes again, finding a small glass bottle with a pump on it, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and a new hairbrush.
My eyes widened slightly, my fingers itching to touch it. It was silver, made with beautiful designs that grew off the back of it and down the handle, and inset with red jewels. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“The Queen of Hearts deserves nothing but the finest,” he purred.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I thought towards him, staring at the items. Thomas had never given me such things. Only ever cold water and a ratty cloth. Never anything like this. Never such beautiful things.
“To say ‘thank you’ in sign language, you must place your fingers in front of your chin and move them down and out in a soft arc.”
An easy motion.
I did exactly as he said, wanting so terribly to express my gratitude. I hovered my fingers above my chin and moved them down and forward at the same time.
“You’re welcome,” he replied softly. He was quiet a moment.
“Stop those tears of yours, Scarlett. They humiliate you and punish you and keep you on your knees because they know how powerful you could be if released from the cage they keep you in. Do your best not to cry in front of them from this moment forward. It’s time you start showing them how powerful you can be.
Sometimes that begins in subtle hints. After all, tsunamis don’t just come out of nowhere, there are always signs to ignore first.”
My heart was beating against my ribs as I stared at that brush. Could he truly read my mind? Was it possible? How did he know that’s what I thought of him?
“Clean yourself up, little sinner,” he instructed, “and then you may change. All by your little lonesome too. I’m sure you can handle that. Do you know how to brush your own hair?”
Maybe it wasn’t because he could read my mind, because that was a ridiculous notion, perhaps our minds just ran along the same path. Parallel. His a little darker than mine, but I could catch up. I would catch up.
I tapped my finger. Of course I did. I brushed it out every day. Every night. I loved brushing my hair until it was soft and tangle free.
“Good.”
I thanked him again and grabbed the toothbrush first.
It took me twenty minutes to clean myself up and brush through my hair.
The soap in that bottle smelled like citrus too.
Citrus and the sea, it reminded me of him.
Brushing my hair was incredibly painful, but this brush was easier to use than the one Thomas used.
It broke through the tangles with ease, and when I was done, I set the brush down, my hair pushed behind my ears and waited.
“Do you need to be guided to your clothes?”
I remained as still as possible, knowing he was watching my hands. I knew how to get there just fine. It was eight steps behind the chair and lined the back wall.
“Go then,” he ordered me.
I stood and headed for the clothes, feeling those warm eyes on me with every step.
I had never gotten to choose what I wore in this room. Everyone else always chose for me. I had never truly cared, it was what was expected of me, but now I had those dresses that Azrael had put in here. Now I had things that I actually liked.
I lifted my eyes high enough to see the fabrics, lifting my hand to run my fingers along the edges of the clothes.
My throat still hurt and so did my head, I had a headache pounding against the edges of my skull, but now I had Azrael’s session to look forward to.
No more cocks. No more semen. No standing or kneeling for long periods of time.
No hearing grunts and moans or dirty words coming from old tongues.
Just Azrael and his quiet madness. Just the ticking clock.
I was almost at the end when I stopped on a beautiful red dress. Simple, no tulle or leather or a ton of ribbons in need of tying. I pulled it out and lowered it enough to inspect it without lifting my eyes too high.
It looked like I could just pull it on over my head and tie a little ribbon between my breasts to make sure the front didn’t fall too low.
I held it close and turned to the shoes, quickly picking out a pair of black boots that I had heard Thomas call combat boots once when he was talking about how much he hated them.
I picked them up, along with a pair of socks, and finally made my way back to my chair.
I set the boots next to the chair, set the socks on top, and placed the dress over the top of the back of the chair before stepping back and folding my hands in front of my hips.
He watched me carefully. “You can’t get out of that yourself,” he said almost to himself.
I couldn’t. It was a leather corset, pulled tight and tied in the back. I needed help.
Azrael remained where he was, quiet and watchful. It took about five Mississippi’s for him to finally step towards me.
My heart skipped when I saw his cane being leaned against my chair.
Did I ever imagine Azrael undressing and redressing me?
Never. I never thought anyone would do it outside of Thomas.
He was my betrothed, but Azrael was now my owner.
Technically, so long as he didn’t make me impure, he could see me in any state he wanted.
Even naked.
I felt it when he stepped up behind me, felt the presence of his body and where it warmed every part of mine.
I lifted my arms out of habit and waited, staring at that cane carefully. The dark wood of it, my eyes trailing up as far as I dared, only to find that he had leaned it in such a way that I could finally see what the top was.
A deer head, it looked like, and the branches weren’t branches at all, but large antlers carved from silver metal. The deer head wasn’t normal, either, it was smiling, revealing sharp, pointed teeth, its eyes large and a little slanted.
My breath caught and his fingers started pulling at the tie at the very same time.
I stared into the eyes of that deer as his fingers worked carefully to loosen those ties. It looked so evil, so…beautiful.
“So, this is why you couldn’t breathe,” I heard him hum as he pulled on another tie, loosening the corset.
My lungs filled as soon as they had the room. I hadn’t realized how dizzy I had been getting until that moment. Lack of oxygen would do that to a person, I suppose.
He continued to pull gently until the last tie came loose before pausing. Seconds ticked by, and I remained as still as a statue, waiting, focusing on him, trying to decipher what was happening.
Another second passed before I felt his fingers slide under the corset on either side of my hip.
My breathing hitched, expecting pain. Thomas always brought pain, everyone always brought pain. Touch wasn’t kind, ever. I couldn’t remember ever being touched kindly. Not even for a moment.
But Azrael? His fingers were warm, soft as they grazed against my skin. He slowly lifted the corset up, my arms lifting high into the air. The corset was so small that even with it being fully loose his knuckles still grazed every inch of my skin going up.
Thomas always jerked it off, leaving bruises where he touched, but Azrael was gentle, everywhere his knuckles touched left only goosebumps, causing that flutter to begin between my legs. He was careful of my hair, my face, lifting all the way up and over before finally stepping back.
I lowered my hands to my sides, returning back to my normal position. I could undress the rest of myself just fine, I knew I could, but if he wanted to keep helping, I couldn’t say no.
I wouldn’t say no.
His touch was so kind. Warm. I wanted a little more.
But he had stopped. I didn’t even think I could hear him breathing anymore.
He was just standing behind me, staring.
I wondered what he was looking at. Perhaps the still healing lashings from a couple of weeks ago.
I didn’t have to wear bandages anymore, but they were still sore when I wore things as tight as that corset.
The air began to change in the room, filling with electricity and ice.
I could feel it skitter across my skin. I felt the weight of his gaze shift, and I wondered why.
Maybe he was realizing just how bad of a sinner I really was.
I had lost track of how many lashings I had gotten over the years, but it wasn’t a small amount.
Maybe he was realizing he had made a mistake in choosing me as his Favorite.
The more lashings a Favorite had, the worse they were.
I think I had the most out of all the Favorites in this church over the years.
I was certainly the worst of them, despite what they called me.
I wouldn’t blame him for feeling disgust towards me.
Suddenly, I felt the ghost of a trail being left down the center of my spine and my eyes closed of their own accord. I imagined the warmth of that trail was due to his fingers. Maybe he was hovering them just barely above my skin, from the base of my neck to the small of my back.
My lips parted, that flutter erupting between my thighs, causing them to tighten involuntarily. It was like I could feel him touching me.
I heard the corset hit the ground a second later, and then Azrael walked by me, grabbing his cane. “Finish getting dressed,” he ordered me, and a moment later, the door shut behind him with finality.
I swallowed, my shoulders falling, a feeling of emptiness spreading through my stomach, replacing the buzzing electricity that had just been there. He saw what Thomas did and now he knew the truth. I was too much of a sinner even in his world.
No.
Stop, that was them talking. I knew my Hatter. I knew him. He has been here for years building up his own hysteric Wonderland to bring down blood on this world and replace it with his own. My scars wouldn’t have scared him.
Nothing scares my Hatter, my ghost, my sea.
Perhaps then…perhaps it did something more.
It motivated him, and in the right hands, motivation was all a person needed to add glass to those waves.