The Dragon Master's Pleasure Slave novel Chapter 2

Margot

“You wanted to see me, Father?” I don’t dare look at him.

He hates when I look at him because he says my eyes are too much like hers—my mother’s. And he doesn’t want to think of her.

She vanished after a night out with my father when I was a hatchling, but I try not to think about it. Right after my mother disappeared, my stepmother and her awful daughters showed up…daughters who turned out not to be my stepsisters but my half-sisters.

Who were born before me.

While my father was married to my mother.

Father’s office makes my throat constrict. The shelves filled with gambling books, maps of the world, dragon history, and other such assorted fare seem like the walls of a jail cell I’ll never escape. Each shelf is like a row of bars meant to keep me caged in my prison.

I desperately wish I could peek inside the dragon books. To see if there is a way to connect with my dragon side or to do anything about this wretched gold cuff. But I’m not allowed to touch anything in here.

And I don’t dare disobey him, because anything my father would do to punish me would be far, far worse than what my stepmother or half-sisters dish out.

I stand before his large oak desk, trying to remain as still as possible, to not ask all of the questions swimming around my head.

I want him to tell me what is happening, what I’ve done wrong, so I can correct it and make my way back into the basement. Instead, I take a deep breath to lessen the terror pushing in on my chest.

I have no way out, no escape. My father is the key master, and doing just as he says is the only way to stay alive. I’ve tried to think of ways I can escape from this life, from these people, but they keep a close watch.

I’m not allowed to leave the yard anymore. Not since I was an idiot and brought up talking to someone at the bakery once.

I’m not supposed to speak to anyone. Ever.

It’d cost me twenty lashes with the leather strap. But honestly? It was worth it. For once, I felt in control, like I had the power.

Though he’d taken it away from me in the next second.

They haven’t taken my outside chores from me, but I think it’s only because no one else wants to go near the pig pens. Of course, if they knew how much I enjoy it, they’d take that from me, too.

But the fresh air when I’m out taking care of the pigs—those simple moments of walking through the field from the house to the barn—give me hope there is more than this.

Unfortunately, I know I’ll be trapped here forever. I blink back tears as I shift my weight. The tracker bracelet around my ankle is heavy—like a lead balloon reminding me that, no, there won’t be anything more for me.

I move my focus from the dark carpeting to the hard, black band around my ankle.

I’ve tried so many times to get it off, but obnoxious beeping gives me away when I get too close.

I’ve tried to cut it with a saw and hit it with a hammer, but that only resulted in more cuts and bruises. It is too tight, and every time I attempt to shove it down, I cut the back of my heel or my ankle bone.

I’ve dislocated my thumb try to get the gold cuff off my wrist, but it’s no use either.

Between the ankle monitor and the gold cuff, there isn’t anything else for me.

They’ve ensured I can’t get away.