Page 20 of Midnight Roots

The third time, I dreamt my men were torturing Dillon. They wouldn't stop no matterwhat I said. Then I was torturing her. She was begging for me to end it. They shouldn't be allowed to touch her. She's mine. She belongs to me.

On and on the nightmares went, so when I woke up, I didn't feel much like working or doing anything. I'm grumpy as fuck.

I go to the spare bedroom and unchain Tessa. I shackle her legs together and force her out into the sunshine naked. "You need to grab the hay over there and bring it to the trough over here for the cows."

Tessa looks at me, confused, so I smack her upside the head. "Get moving."

She shuffles forward toward the hay and grabs armfuls. I know it is itchy as hell, especially with no clothes on, but I have no sympathy today. Her screams are part of the reason I didn't sleep properly.

She shuffles toward the trough and dumps the hay in. I then make my way around the ranch with her. I have her harvest vegetables from the vegetable garden and muck out stalls, and then I rinse her off with a cold hose pipe before I set her to clean the farmhouse.

I want everything to be perfect.

We start on the top floor, and I make her sweep and dust. When she falters, I whip her across the legs, having retrieved my trusty riding crop. She doesn't talk back. She doesn't cry. She simply cleans.

Once we've cleaned the bedrooms on the top floor, I make her lick the toilet bowl clean. Then, on the floor of the bathroom and the tub, she pukes up the remnants of what’s in her stomach, and I make her eat that as well.

She looks up at me, begging in her eyes.

I put the whip under her chin. "You wanted this. You wanted to come here. Youentered into a bargain with the devil, and now it's time to pay."

I let her continue cleaning before I finally let her have a quick sip of water from the tap. I don't want her to completely dehydrate before we get to the bottom of the house.

I make her sweep the stairs and dust the banisters before we start cleaning the kitchen.

"Must I lick your silverware too?"

I whip her through the face until blood runs down her cheek. "Don't sass me, girl. Clearly, you haven't learned your lesson from being chained up."

She shakes her head. "I have. I have."

"Shut it," I say. "Polish the silverware until it shines, and then wipe down all the counters."

"I need the bathroom."

"You can go outside where the pigs are," I push her forward and out the backdoor. I push her into the pig pen. "We'll have to hose you down again when you're done. Go on then."

She looks at me with pleading eyes before she squats and takes a shit. There's no consistency to it. Probably because she hasn't eaten in so long. Once she's done, I hose her down again with freezing cold water and let her back into the house. She might as well wet the floor, as she's going to mop it anyway.

I wait for her to finish polishing the silverware and wiping down the counters before I get her to mop the floor. Then I drag her back upstairs to where her chains are. She tries to resist, but she's physically too weak now.

"Please, no. Heston. Please, I made a mistake coming here." She tries to pull away, but she hasn't eaten in days, and there's just nothing to her. She is like putty in my hands.

I walk her back into the room and shackle her one hand, then her other, suspending her back in the air. "Don't make this difficult, or you'll regret it."

She bursts into fresh sobs. Where she gets the tears from, I don't know, but they're there. "Stand on your tiptoes."

"What?" she asks.

"Stand on your tiptoes."

She does as she's asked, and I put a tall, narrow stone with a tube-like tip between her legs. If she stops standing on her tiptoes, it will penetrate her. The stone has a fairly solid base, and she's too weak to knock it over.

"Now stay there," I say before I walk out again.

She yells something, but I shut the door. I feel satisfied now.

I could eat now.