Chapter 3

"Get up!", I hear as I'm being nudged in the side by a foot. "We haven't got all day to wait on you to get ready!"

I'm pulled up to a standing position and this time, I can feel that there is one person on each side of me. "The knife!", the same voice calls out from his position in front of me.

What's happening? Am I going to die here?

"Please don't kill me! This is all a misunderstanding!", I shout, barely awake enough to fully comprehend the situation.

"Misunderstanding?", he growls and then starts to chuckle. "What kind of misunderstanding would there be?"

"Please! Ask my father! I have no uncle! We have no family! It's always just been Father and I!", I plea.

"Make no mistake girly." the man says. "Your father did have a brother. A brother with a gambling problem, at that. Such a pity you'll never get to know him. He had an unfortunate accident while running away from his punishment. Luckily for us, he had a special little notebook with him. That's how we found you. And YOU are how we're gonna get our money back!"

I try to argue but before I can utter a single word back, my blindfold is ripped off and the light burns my pupils which have been in darkness for so long. Bowing my head away from the light, I blink until I can see again. The man comes toward me and leans down to look me in the eyes.

"So sorry about your father though. He couldn't be of any use, so we sent him to meet his long lost brother."

Those last words cut me deeper than the knife in the man's hand possibly could. What did he just say? My father can't be dead! It's not true! It just can't be! So lost in my own thoughts, I don't even notice the man bend down and grab the hem of my dirty and tattered night gown. The sound of the fabric being torn pulls me back to my senses and I try to pull away but the two women gripping me by the arms hold onto me tightly.

"Don't touch me!", I try to scream, but my mouth is quickly covered by yet another person behind me, just out of my range of sight.

The man cuts all the way up until my night gown falls open and then he looks me dead in the eyes. "Don't you worry.", he spits as I clench my fists behind me and shut my eyes. "You're worth more if you're untouched. The rich guys really have a thing for virgins. I'll leave you for your new master to deflower... No matter how much I don't wanna!"

He cuts the straps and the garment falls off of me, cold air kissing every inch of my bare skin. Before it hits the floor, I feel his hand grab my panties. I wail and try to fight them off but their grasp is too strong to break. The last shred of dignity I've been clinging to is swiftly cut away, followed by the bindings on my ankles. He steps back as I stand there, fully naked in front of him and the others to gawk at.

"Bathe her and make her up real nice. We'll get a hefty price for her today. I can feel it!", he says as he turns and leaves the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

All I can do was weep. Father... No more tears come but I cry nonetheless. The women scrub every inch of me while I sit there powerless and lost in my grief. Not only have I just lost the only person I've ever had in this world, but I've never known such humiliation. Not a single man has ever touched me before, ever seen my skin. And now, I could do nothing to defend myself, to protect my honor, as I was being violated in such a way that made me sick to my stomach.

'I'll leave you for your new master to deflower.' His words replay in my head. Deflower... what does he mean by that? Never mind! I don't want to know! There's no way that it can be anything good. Feeling myself being pulled out of the tub, my thought is interrupted. The women sit me down on a wooden stool in front of a mirror. One of them begins brushing my long hair, another rubs a kind on floral scented oil on my legs. I bite my bottom lip and only allow myself to look at my face. The entire time, I try to just stare deep into my own eyes, blue as the sapphire ring Father held in his hands when he'd hide away and cry.

Father... My painful thoughts return to me. Father has always told me that I'm a rare beauty. But looking at my slim face in the mirror, I'm not so sure. My already fair skin has become even more pale. Is it from lack of rest? Food? Water? Water!

"Please...", I speak to the woman holding the tray with a brush and some things that resemble paint. "May I please have a drink of water?"

She looks around nervously and nods silently, giving me a cup filled with the most glorious tasting water I've had in my life. I gulp the cool liquid down so quickly I start to cough. There will never be enough water in the world to quench this thirst. As I continue to cough, she takes the cup and fills it again, handing it back to me full to the brim. I make eye contact with her and her eyes are full of apology. Then I realize that she was probably in my position at one time and I look away, feeling apologetic to her as well.

I close my eyes as an older woman paints on my face. When I open them, my eyelashes have turned black and my lips are moistened with a transparent, yet glossy pink liquid. I would never be able to tell by looking at my painted face that I'm so tired, hungry, and dehydrated. After she finishes drawing on me, she nods to the woman who gave me water and she comes toward me. In her arms is a tray holding a plain white piece of cloth and a smaller piece of fabric folded up into a little parcel. "Wear this", she says.

I snatch up the larger piece, holding it to my chest, if for no other reason than as a means to cover my breasts. I look down at it but it does not resemble any piece of clothing I have ever seen. It's just a tube of cloth. "How am I supposed to wear this?", I ask in confusion.

"I'll help you.", she whispers, gently pulling me up by the arm. "He's brought panties too. Put your feet in, quickly! He'll be coming for you any moment."

Not wanting him to see my exposed body again, I quickly follow her instructions. I slide in one foot, then the other and pull them up around my hips. Then she slips the larger piece of cloth over my head and arms. It doesn't even cover my belly button. How can someone call this clothing? It just doesn't make any sense to me. Are there people who actually dress this way? Don't they get cold? The sound of the door unlocking sends shivers down my spine and I step back instinctively. The door opens and the man stands there with lust in his eyes.

As he gestures for me to go to him, he says, "Come on then, before I get any ideas!"