Only His

I took some time to really have a look at this fiction, and I realise with horror that I have disappointed my fans, as well as myself.
This last chapter is horrible!!!
Serves me right, I suppose
I have moved to remedy this situation right away, and am not only rewriting it, and going to finally get around to re editing the previous chapter, as well as the prologue. Shame on me for being so slack.
So here is the revamped version of the most recent chapter, as well as the rest of it!!! I hope it is far more satisfactory!

Once again, many many thanks to my BETA, Orgy Of Death. Not only is she a great help to me, she has actually improved my fictional output!
And before you say anything, Orgy; I know I put this up before you completely looked over it! I'm sorry!

:Chapter 5 – Little Kitten:

Two days passed without incident.
Seras saw hide nor hair of her Master. Indeed, she wondered if He had forgotten about her.Part of her hoped desperately that this was the case, but a smaller part of her did not, and was almost upset about His absence.
Of course, Seras would never admit this to anybody. Especially not herself.
So for two days, in order to keep her mind off of this sudden disappearance, Seras trained, rested and played with Philip, who was becoming bolder by the day. Because Integra had ensured she was not to go out on missions (Until she began behaving herself), Seras even got another chance to look in the room she had discovered just under a fortnight ago.
Rather excited, she examined the odd knick-knacks contained in their glass cabinets.
Her eyes caught sight of a delicate brooch nestled in a flurry of velvet, and she could not help but gasp at its beauty. It was seemingly made entirely of gold, delicately snaking tendrils clasping small, glinting gems in an almost random array. It was not until Seras stood back a little that she realised that it was an English rose that she was eyeing so longingly. She could not tear her gaze from its beauty, it drew her to it.
It was with great difficulty that she finally turned away to search among the dusty tomes squashed side by side in their shelves.
She wondered if Integra had any books of a 'Questionable' nature. The thought was so ridiculous she rather promptly fell in to a fit of laughter, clamping her delicate hands over her mouth in order not to be heard.
Now searching eagerly for 'original print' Karma Sutra's, Seras skimmed over the shelves.
She "Hmmed" to herself, passing books titled "Mein Kumph", "The Little Red Book", and at least four or five editions of the bible. There were countless editions the writings of a gentleman called Milton, as well as Eliot's and Dick's and Salinger's. Well, only one of the last one. She skipped over an entire row of Shakespeare, and poked idly at a Dante fellow, before spying something that made her stop and stare.
Was that Bram Stoker's Dracula?
Delicately, she removed it from its home amongst the other novels, sneezing at the dust that crawled its way in to her nostrils. It really was. A first edition too, apparently.
Giggling a little at the irony, but interested all the same, the little blonde curled up in a floral patterned armchair, her slender calves flopped inelegantly over one arm and the book rested in her lap as she opened its crimson (how original) cover and began to flick through the pages that were lit almost romantically by the soft, flickering candles that swayed softly in their holder on the small drawers next to the cozy chair.
It was a little difficult to read. She wasn't used to the language, but none-the-less she felt it slowly begin to draw her in.
An hour later, she was enthralled. Her heart bled for the Count, the lonely, odd vampire. Secretly, she thought he was in love with Nick, and she felt as if she had a connection with him, herself help in the clasp of unrequited love.
Feeling her eyelids slowly begin to droop, Seras glanced up at the time and cursed softly. It was almost morning already!
She couldn't believe it, she had been reading for hours. Marking the page she was on with a dog ear, Seras set it down on the delicate drawer and got up, wrinkling her nose at her leg, which seemed to have decided to become inconveniently numb.
After stamping it a few times and shaking it around, Seras decided that there was enough feeling there to be able to walk without looking like a dork.
Following the many twists and turns of the house, and then of its dank dungeons, Seras (After an age, it seemed) came upon the door of her room.
Wearily, she drew it open, placing her foot in front of Philip's curious face before he could bolt out, and slid inside.
He eyed her with great displeasure, and went to sit back on his fluffy throne with all the air of a scorned aristocrat.
She rested her back against the door, surveying the dank room, and its lack of adornment. She sighed. Anybody could own this room, she thought gloomily. There was nothing here, nothing to say that this was her room. No colour, no personality. No embarrassing teddy bears that she would attempt to stuff from sight (Like her old room) of guests, no stacks of books or piles of clothes. It was a dull, lifeless room.
Well there was one thing.
She eyed it with loathing. That cold metal bucket filled with ice, and the corner of a familiar piece of plastic full of red liquid that sat itself rather smugly on the regulation table, near the regulation chair which was seated next to the not so regulation (Or was it? Seras had never seen her Master's) coffin-come-poster-bed. Even the damn rug on the floor was regulation.
Seras bit back a growl, and moving over to the bucket, she snatched up the despicable thing inside of it and stormed in to the (Regulation) bathroom. The blood packet sloshed as she threw it on the basin and furiously brushed her teeth. Snorting, she tipped it down the toilet and threw the left over plastic in the small wastebin hiding behind the sink.
Seras grabbed some pajamas from the chest, (Cute little pink ones). She scowled as she recalled her Master's outrageous demand, and decided that if He was not going to bother with her anymore, she didn't see why she had to listen to Him anyway!
Yanking them on as if it were they were somehow at fault for the events that transpired, Seras realised how very much she wanted to sleep.
Trudging back to her very tempting looking coffin, Seras flopped on to it unceremoniously, much to the cat's dismay.
With a yowl, he flew off of his adopted pillow and streaked under the coffin, growling.
Seras merely buried her face in to the pillow and, rather tiredly, pulled the covers over her body.

*****

Seras Victoria couldn’t breathe. She was underwater, and the liquid was icy cold and thick around her, filling her mouth and lungs with sludge. Thick like semen, she thought…or blood. The water swirled red and became dark.
Seras opened her mouth to scream, but the black filled her throat and hit her stomach. The taste of death and malice overwhelmed her and, desperately, she retched, attempting to liberate herself of the heavy fluid that engulfed her and crawled its vile way through her insides. She had to escape, she had to live!

Seras Victoria awoke. To find that she still could not breathe. The blackness was all over her, restraining and suffocating. Holding her limbs and shoving appendages down her throat vulgarly, and in terror, Seras lashed out with teeth, claws and strange inhuman shrieks. The thing held her effortlessly, laughing mockingly as she weakened. The black silky tentacles that held her arms and legs heaved her out of the bed as others tugged the blankets off impatiently, revealing the fledgling’s pink childish pyjamas and nubile form. Many red eyes lewdly eyed the shapely legs that poked out from underneath the cute shorts, and she stiffened as the all too familiar smile crept its way through the writhing darkness, and the inconceivable mass slowly gained form.
It was futile she knew, but she still tried to wriggle away as He slowly brought her closer to Him; but His dark snakelike hair held her fast as she drifted gently to His eye level.
He eyed her leisurely.
“Did I not ask you to sleep naked?” He chided her calmly, seemingly unconcerned.
She glared daggers at Him.
Seras cried out as He viciously slapped her without warning, hard enough to snap her head brutally around. She cried out, and her left cheek stung wickedly enough to bring water to her eyes.
“Never look at me like that again.” He said in the same voice, as if He did not just slap her hard enough to turn her cheek bright red.” And never disobey Me."
He spoke to her as if she were a wayward child! Resentment bloomed in her breast, but she quashed it quickly.
“Yes, Master.” Seras fought the urge to glare at Him again and chose instead to study the floor, and tried her best to ignore the silken ribbons that were held her captive. She continued to ignore them even as they began to gently caress her, slowly sliding over her waist and her thighs, meandering delicately upwards until they brushed the edge of her shorts and began to slip up her skimpy top, pulling it up to reveal delicate, smooth flesh. The almost pleasant feel of His touch was too much at odds with the sharp wounds of His words, and she attempted to shy away from His unfamiliar behaviour.
“Master, what are You doing?” Seras writhed, unsuccessfully trying to avoid the curious tentacles currently succeeding in their effort to discover what was indeed beneath the pyjamas she seemed to be almost wearing.
“Disclothing you, of course.” He told her in a rather blasé fashion. “You can’t possibly be clothed for what I am about to do to you.”
There was a slightly ominous edge to His voice now.
“Master?” She was unable to disguise the slight worry crawling its way into her throat.
Do to her? What could He do to her that He had not done already? Unless…He was going to make her do…that…
His grin told her that He knew what she was thinking.
“I can if you like, Police Girl.” He said mirthfully, eyes glinting. “However, I have something infinitely worse than that in store for you this evening.” His inflection was hard to miss.
Seras was beginning to grow accustomed to the feeling of fear that clenched her stomach and chewed holes in her insides every time her Master decided to play His bitter little games. It burnt, as ice burns when it is gripped much too tightly and for much too long, and seemed to pull the strings inside of her body, making her fingers twitch and tingle, her feet curl and pulled her loins in a confusing and unpleasant manner.
Sometimes, Seras wanted desperately to hate Him.

Sometimes.

“…Master.” She whispered, her turmoil evident.
He ignored her, His mouth turned down slightly, as if in concentration, and His eyebrows were furrowed somewhat. She looked at Him, puzzled and afraid, and then to what seemed to be the source of His annoyance. The tentacles previously sliding up her top were now tugging at the faux buttons at the front.
“Master?”

Seras opened her mouth to tell Him that the buttons were only decorative, but abruptly, and with great irritation, He bared His fangs. Seras flinched as the previously plucking tendrils gripped her top and tore it open so violently that Seras’ firm breasts bounced as they were released from their fabric confinement. The rest of the black ribbons tightened as Seras’ arms instinctively went to cover them (With little avail). Her Master’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“You must learn to be comfortable with your body, Police Girl.” He told her flatly.
“Most women would sell their soul to have a body like yours.”
Seras couldn’t help thinking in a rather bitter fashion that indeed, it seemed she did sell her soul for a body like this, so to speak. Then all thought halted in its tracks as it was rather rudely slapped in the face by the small, feminine part of her brain that rather huffily pointed out that perhaps she should actually pay attention to what He bloody well said, instead of just getting straight to the whole Poor-Me part. Hypocrite.
That part of her then went on to say that she was in desperate need of a pedicure but Seras was far too busy being shocked by the fact that her Master...her Master seemed to have said something along the lines of a compliment.
Seras was incredibly humiliated, not so much as to the lewd comment her Master had just murmured, but more so by the fact that a very small part of her (The feminine bit) was nauseatingly flattered. Her face warmed as she lowered her eyes and stared adamantly at the stone floor, but not before her Master apparently caught the look latching itself there.
“Do not look so disgustingly pleased Police Girl,” He told her. “You are not off of the hook yet.”
She said nothing, and He quickly removed her shorts in the silence that ensued. With that, Seras was suspended in the air before her Master, her nubile form enchantingly, and embarrassingly nude. She eyed the ground with her face aflame, feeling His eyes on her. Seras never truly believed she would ever be entirely comfortable with being naked in front of her Master. Vaguely she remembered half formed dreams of losing her virginity to a gentle, handsome blonde man who treated her body with respect and love. Instead, she was being violated by a monster that merely used her as a Play Toy for His own amusement.
Sex was nothing like she imagined, and she was quickly growing to loathe men and their urges, and she wondered if He would ever make her undergo that final humiliation.

“Now, Police Girl.” He said quietly. “Do you understand why I am doing this?”
Seras said nothing, she merely pursed her lips.
“Do, you?”
“No, Master!” She suddenly burst out. “No Master, I don’t understand at all why You think that You can do this to me! What I do is my own choice and You don’t have the right to abuse me so!”

There was a deadly silence.

He was even more terrifying when He said nothing. It was so out of character, this silence that she felt ice claw up her spine, and when He finally did speak, she began to shake with fright and wish to God that she had never opened her stupid stupid mouth.

“Have you finished?” He asked calmly, quietly. Ominously.
Oh, she was so gone.
“…Yes, Master.” She whispered quietly. A million feelings, all negative, twisted and slithered in her gut like dying snakes.
Seras was grudgingly amazed of the way He could abuse her, beat her, treat her like she was utter filth, and then make her feel juvenile and guilty when she got upset about it.
He really was the perfect monster.
“Then, let me get something straight, as you seem to have gotten your wires crossed, Police Girl.
You do not question your Master. My word is absolute, and if you do it again I may cut out your tongue. Clear?”
She swallowed heavily, and with difficulty.
“Clear?” He snarled.
“Yes Master!” Seras squeaked.
“Good girl. Secondly, you do not have choices. You merely have orders to obey. Clear?”
“Yes Master.”
“And I have the right to do whatever the hell I want to you, Police Girl, and you will take it with a ‘Yes Master’ and a pretty little smile, because that is what little girls like you do. Clear?”
Tears were welling behind her eyes. “Yes Master.” Her voice was a whisper. She didn’t dare speak any louder. She did not wish to betray herself.
"From this day on, you are nothing but mine, to do with as I wish. Understand?"
She nodded bitterly.
“Now, why am I punishing you?”
“Because I did not drink my blood Master.” Her vision was swimming, the tears making it difficult to see Him…For which she was glad.
"Now, from the explanation you have just recieved, Do you feel this punishment is just, Police Girl?"
No.
"Yes."
"Hmm?"
"Yes Master." She corrected herself quickly.
"Good girl." He told her smoothly.
"Yes Master."
So much for being her own person. She disgusted herself.
The sudden feeling of icy coldness on the balls of her feet that made her jump in surprise was the only indication that she had been lowered to the slat. She felt herself being turned around, and clenched her face up tight as her Master bent her over and secured her wrists to her ankles with what felt like rope. It chafed her wrists slightly, and she gritted her teeth against the mild discomfort.
"You shall remain in that position for the entirety of your punishment." He told her, His voice was like Seras imagined mercury would feel like; cold, smooth as scales and oh so deadly."If you fall, sit down or do otherwise than I have intructed, then you will recieve what I am about to do to you tenfold."
Seras made an affirmative noise as cold sweat trickled slowly over the backs of her thighs and the sides of her breasts. She did not trust herself to speak, for she knew that her fear would be far more evident than she wished.
Not that He couldn't smell it on her.
His hand was cold, even through His raspy glove as one of His fingers trailed along one voluptuous ass cheek and followed a sweat bead as it trickled down her slender thigh.
The backs of her calves were beginning to ache from the inconvenient position, and she could feel her hips trying to cramp up.
Seras hoped desperately that whatever He was going to do to her would be over quickly. She knew that this position could not be held for too long.
That was probably the reason why He chose it.
"Are you ready, Police Girl?" How could such a monster sound so human? Seras wondered this to herself.
She made another noise. He obviously took this to mean a yes, for there was a sudden crack and pain such as she had never felt before ran like a line of fire over her backside
She did not bother trying to hide her scream.
Almost inhuman, it pierced the air with a suddenness that made it somehow more horrible. She tottered slightly, the blow almost knocking her balance awry.
After that there was no real silence; the room was full of Seras' hitching breath as she attempted desperately to calm herself. Whatever He had hit her with was certainly formidable, and her terror increased as her inhuman senses caught the sound of her Master drawing His arm back for another blow.
This scream was louder than the first.
This time Seras planted her feet apart so that she did not stumble again. The uncomfortable change in position caused her already aggravated muscles to protest, but the torture higher up rendered it redundant.
She would rather that than what He could do to her if she lost her already precarious balance.
A third lash scored her, this time on the tender skin of her left thigh.
Seras gasped for air. The pain was so great it knocked the breath out of her. She felt as if her chest had been crushed at the force of the blow, and the ache of her ass seemed as nothing compared to the pain emenating from her thigh.
Her breathe hissed out form inbetween her teeth as He hit her ass again. And again, and again, Seras' breath was soon coming in broken sobs and agonised wails of protest.
He was not fussed as to where on her ass He walloped. The whip (It had to have been a whip. Nothing else could have made such a horrendous crack as it flicked her) lashed her ass and thighs, leaving exruciating bands of white-hot agony wherever they landed.
And each time it landed, Seras screamed. She could not care less for her dignity, or her pride. All she knew is that this hurt so bloody much, and she hated Him so much Seras saw red.
Each lash was stinging as if she had been stung by a million bees, and to her horror, she felt trickles down her legs that was flowing far too freely to be sweat.
Panic set in as the metallic tang of blood assailed her nose.
Her blood.
Oh God.
"Master!!" She howled.
"Master please stop!!"
Her blood. She was bleeding. SHe didn't know why this scared her so much, she had been injured in battle plenty of times. But this was different, she did not have the power to stop this. She did not have anybody to help her, to rescue her, and her panic was rising and rising and she couldn't stop it. There was not enough air in her lungs. She was taking great gasping gulps but she still couldn't get enough. Her body was restricted and it terrified her, being unable to move, to escape from the source of her terror. She was entirely at the mercy of another creature, and that creature was intent on doing her harm.
Her limbs were burning and she was bleeding. He was splitting her flesh with each blow. He could kill her. She was going to die.
The pain seemed to increase by tenfold. The bees weren't bees, they were wasps stinging again and again, and the whip was an enormous knife rending her tender backside and thighs. Suddenly she could see blood everywhere. Her blood. She didn't know whether it was there or not, she didn't care, she was going to die. She was sure of it. So she opened her mouth and screamed. And screamed, and screamed.
She couldn't stop herself. It had started, she had let it out and it just kept going and going and Seras could feel her throat going raw and her body trying to collapse, but she couldn't stop this cry. It grew higher and higher in pitch, full of undiluted terror and despair.
It was quickly choked off as something hot, wet and rather slippery swept up her left thigh.

*****
Her utter shock at the unfamliar feeling stopped her terror in its tracks.
Sure, it had not left her totally, but suddenly the enormous rock on her chest lifted, and she took great gulps of sweet air, gasping as she tried to slow down the hammer that was her heart.
Before she could get herself entirely under control, she felt it again. A whimper escaped her lips and she could not control the spasmic shudder that gripped her body as her now hypersensitive flesh almost protested.
Through the clearing fog that was her brain, she found it difficult to discern what it was that was doing such odd things. She was finding it hard to concentrate when her body seemed so alive. She could feel the cold air on her hot flesh, even more so on the tenderised flesh on her backside and the backs of her thighs. She could feel the blood and sweat trickling ever so slowly down these areas, mingling with each other before pooling in the hollows located behind her knees. She could feel each and every sting of each and every mark made from His lash as the fluids on her trickled in to them. She could feel the rope, made twice as harsh by this sudden...awareness of herself, chafing her wrists and ankles uncomfortably, and her muscles protesting against the uncomfortable position. She could also feel, much to her mortification, that inbetween her legs was sopping wet.
And she could feel that peculiar feeling again. Travelling from half way down her trembling left thigh, right up to the crest of her backside. She shivered again.
A slurping sound followed.
It seemed to be after the falling blood. In fact, it felt like a...
Tongue.
Mouth.
Oh god. It was her Master's tongue.
He did it again and this time the jerking had nothing to do with oversensitive flesh.
"Master!" She protested croakily, trying to escape His teasing appendage.
"Master, stop it!"
A chuckle followed these words, and a gloved hand ghosted up her leg and slipped between them.
She bit back a slight moan and blushed in humiliation as He discovered just how much she was enjoying it.
"I think you do not want me to stop Police Girl." He told her, an air of insufferable smugness in his tone.
She fell silent as the blood left over in her system seemed to have settled in her cheeks. He moved His hand away and, leaning down, slowly captured another droplet with a soft swipe of His limber tongue.
The next trailed along her ass, dipping in to one of the many fresh cuts that lined it, causing her to hiss in discomfort. Ignoring her, He continued to lap up every little bit of blood on her, and each touch of His cool, moist tongue was slowly driving her wild. She could not take much more.
She gave in to abandon, rolling her hips to meet His mouth as much as she could in her position, whimpering her need. She didn't quite know what she wanted, all she knew was that there was that familiar feeling pooling in her gut, and it was getting worse and worse. She could feel it building, and it was going to make her go mad.
And then the wondrous tongue was gone.
"Master.." She whimpered.
He couldn't do this! It was feeling so good, why did He stop?
At the sound of her pathetic voice, He outright laughed.
"So you were enjoying that, Police Girl?"
"...Yes Master." She muttered, embarrassment falling to the hope that if she admitted it, He might to it again.
But, there was no such luck. He knelt down, and with one brush of His slender, covered fingers, the black ropes binding her disappeared. She blinked in surprise, and rubbing her wrists, went to right herself.
A hand rather forcefully pushed down on her spine between her shoulder blades, effectively keeping her bent over.
"I did not give you permission to stand, Police Girl." He rebuked firmly.
She pursed her lips slightly, but did not try to stand again.
"Kneel down."
She folded her knees obediently and went to seat herself on her calves, but yelped as the stinging throbbing pain in her thighs and ass intensified.
She jolted upwards as if she had been burnt, and instead chose to avoid sitting, despite the exhaustion and the unfamiliar position making her legs tingle and muscles ache in a sort of vengeful relief.
He looked at her interestedly, and finally said.
"Spread your legs."
"Excuse me?" She spluttered.
He looked at her coldly.
She moved her knees apart so they pointed away from each other. Drowning in mortification, she covered her sex with her hands, clasping her hands together in front of it.
"Sit back."
Oh great.
Seras scrunched up her face and gingerly lowered her sore flesh on to her calves.
The cuts stang like wild fire, but Seras set her jaw against it and endured it.
Her discomfort was slowly permeating the fog of her lust, but she thought if she endured, He might be pleased enough with her to remedy that.
He surveyed her position, before slowly saying. "Put your hands on each thigh, Police Girl."
She looked up at Him, puzzled, and, grudgingly she revealed herself as she clasped the tops of her thighs with her hands.
"Palms turned to face upwards."
She turned them, wrinkling her brow slightly at the unfamiliar position.
"Straighten your back."
She did.
"Your chin has to be parallel to the floor."
She raised her chin slightly.
"Avert your eyes."
She looked to the floor on her left.
"Yes." He breathed. "Good girl."
Elation coursed through her at these two small words, enough to make her tremble.
"Master..." She whispered.
She did not know why He was making her sit in such an awkward position, or why He expected it to be so precise. All she knew was that in doing so, she was pleasing Him, and for that she was glad.

He watched her in silence, His eyes visible over His round glasses. She could not see Him very well through her peripherals, but she could see that He had one finger settled against His mouth and He was pursing it rather elegantly.
She watched His eyes roving over her voloptuous figure, as His crimson cloak fluttered with every slight movement of His slender body.
"Do you know why you are sitting in such a manner, Police Girl?" His question was sudden, and she could not help from jumping a little at the unexpected break in the silence.
"No, Master, I do not." She answered truthfully.

"This is the manner in which slave girl's sit, Police Girl."
She felt as if she had been kicked in the gut.
Slave? Her? Outrage blossomed in her bosom, moving through each and every vein. She was not a slave. A doll! She was Seras Victoria! She was a vampire!
...She was a vampire owned by the Nosferatu Alucard. She was his fledgeling...
She did not want to be a slave! She wanted to work in Hellsing as an officer, she wanted to play with her cat, she wanted Integra to accept her, if she can't like her, and she wanted her Master to like her too.
His words came back to her.
"From this day on, you are nothing but mine, to do with as I wish. Understand?"
He really was going to make her do it. Her eyes brimmed with tears. He was going to turn her in to something lower than low.
She hated Him then.

He seemed unaware, or at least disinterested in her inner turmoil.
He turned, His broad back to her as she glared at it with enough hatred to melt a small iceberg.
Suddenly remembering she wasn't supposed to look up, she averted her eyes before she realised what she did.
She grew even angrier.
Her lust was gone, cowering in the way of this unfathomable fury, and the pain in her lower body seemed even less noticaeable. She was shaking, and her teeth were grit so tightly that her jaw ached.
A small jingling got her attention, and her eyes flicked up again.
"Eyes averted, Police Girl." He chided.
Her lips pursed, she obeyed.
Suddenly, He was in front of her, kneeling. His hands were around her neck, almost caressing. Her stomach lurched at the contact, and she swallowed, trying to force down the lump of revulsion that stuck in her throat. She knew He had to know how she felt, but He seemed to ignore it. She heard the jingle again, and felt something cool and smooth against her neck.
She tried to look down to see it, but found that the laws of physics don't work in quite that manner.
Suddenly, He paused, and withdrew His hands from her. He showed her what He held in His gloved finger's, and her gut coiled in angry knots.
It was a collar. It was slender and made of soft white leather, with a largish gold bell in the centre that jingled at His slightest movement. The buckle was as gold as the bell.
She loathed it on sight.
"This collar will show others that you are my property, and my property alone." His voice was calm. "You will wear it at all times."
His fingers grasped her chin roughly and pulled her face up to meet His gaze.
"If I ever catch you with it off, you will regret it. Thoroughly."
She nodded, trying to ignore the nausea permeating her body. Rage was consuming her, burning even more at the knowledge if its futility. She was helpless in her horror.
She never wanted this.
Why did He hate her so? Why did He do such things to her?
"I will keep my eye on you, Police Girl," He told her. "That will be your only warning."
"Yes Master," she whispered.
He said nothing as His hands went smoothly back around to the nape of her slender neck and quickly, matter-of-factly buckled the thing around it.
Settling back to admire His handi-work, He grinned perversely.
He seemed pleased.
"Go to bed," He told her. "I will check on you soon."
"Yes Master."
He stood, watching her over the rims of His cold orange glasses.
"You won't feel this way forever, Police Girl." He told her, unexpectedly.
In surprise, she jerked her head up, but He was already gone.
She slammed her fists down on the cold stone, and the collar tinkled. Bastard!
Unfortunately, Seras' body was too exhausted, and the rest of her body followed her hands, and the bell tinkled frantically. It angered her.
Her body sprawled inelegantly on the floor, she glared angrily at nothing in particular.
What the hell did He mean by that? That she won't feel the way she did forever?
Did that mean He would leave her alone? Hope raised its rather beaten head.
She doubted He meant that. He probably thought that she would learn to like such treatment! How utterly presumptuous!
How could she enjoy being treated like she were nothing but a doll, a toy, to be cast off at will, and played with as if she didn't have emotions, or needs of her own?
Master really was mad. The delicate blonde sighed wearily, and wiped away tears that had begun to form. Her lower body was stinging, and she herself was in tatters. She wanted nothing more than for it all to just go away.
Slowly, agonisingly, she stood, careful of her protesting muscles and abused flesh. The collar jingled again, and she scowled.
She hated it more than she hated anything else before. Seras tugged at it, wanting nothing more than to tear it off and rip in to tiny little shreds, Master or no.
Her hand dropped dully. She would not do such a thing, the weakling that she was. She would not risk a beating from her Master if she could help it.
Still, as her weary body worked with a will of its own to get her in to bed, she could not help but wonder what He would do if she did such an act. Would He beat her? Or would something far more ominous be in store for her?
She wondered if He would kill her?
Probably, she concluded.
Seras could feel her collar around her neck, the leather not tight enough to be uncomfortable, but definitely noticeable. The fact that it was not particularly painful aggravated Seras to no end. At least if it were hurting her, she would have reason to voice her complaint. As she tucked herself under the covers, it jingled irritatingly. A sudden burn reminded her she ought not to sleep on her back, and, hissing slightly through her teeth, the fledgling gingerly rolled on to her stomach and buried her face in to the soft pillows that smelt of shampoo and cat fur.

This was the last thing she wanted.