Rekindled Ch. 01

Story Info
A trapped submissive is saved.
2.1k words
4.59
23.3k
26

Part 1 of the 6 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 05/11/2012
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(Disclaimer: while this story has had many elements changed, it is based on true events. If you are wanting an instant stroke-story, you will have to look elsewhere, as the sex in this story is a ways in coming. Thanks for reading! Chapter II is coming soon!)

*

The second the glass slipped from my fingers, the world started to move in slow-motion. I could almost count the beats of my heart between the ticking third hand on the clock. I watched the glass falling...falling...falling...until...

CRASH.

The shards of glass exploded through across the metal of the sink and echoed through my mind, their glinting edges sharp as razorblades and the fear in my heart just as sharp.

I knew what was coming the second the noise echoed through the hall.

The thudding of the boots on the hardwood floor matched the thudding of my heart as the footsteps drew nearer and nearer...

"What the HELL was that?!"

I hit the floor, almost instinctively, arms up over my face in a desperate effort to protect my face and neck from what I knew was coming. The hand around my wrist jerked me to my feet regardless.

I knew without looking that his ice-blue eyes were cold as winter and that any traces of compassion that used to reside there had long since left us behind. The blows came raining over my shoulders and neck from his tight-clenched hand.

"You...stupid...clumsy...bitch!"

His hand connected with my face, neck, and shoulders to emphasize every word, the blows sending waves of terror and pain through my entire body. But by the third or forth blow, I was numb, my mind shifting into the place it always went when he was angry like this.

The jerk on my hair was enough of a surprise to make me cry out, but it didn't even slow him down as he dragged me down the hall, my feet slipping on the wood and causing me to lose my balance. I hit the floor with a sharp thud, my ankle twisting painfully beneath me. I cried out in pain, and he stopped.

Turning around, he raised his boot-clad foot and brought it soundly down on the wounded leg. I heard a snap and screamed as white hot pain shot through me. Without a word, he turned away, still pulling me onward until we reached the door of his bedroom.

My back slammed against the wall so hard that I thought more of my bones would break. His hand found my throat and squeezed until I felt my air supply completely cut off. I struggled and tried to gasp for air, but he struck me again and again until my eyes closed and I fell still.

I felt his hands replaced by a thick twist of sharp, splintered rope, so tight that I could barely draw enough air into my lungs. His voice was venom-laden, no longer loud but so soft that it almost terrified me more than his bellowing.

"This is as much of a collar as you will ever deserve, you stupid, clumsy whore."

His voice against my ear almost caused a physical ache.

"What are you, bitch?"

"Stupid. Clumsy. Worthless..." The words were too familiar, sinking into me until I almost believed them. I had repeated them enough.

He smacked my face again, making my head spin with the force.

The next moments blurred for me, twisting and fading together like the strangest sort of fog between reality and my aching wishes. It was in these moments that my mind shut off entire, that I reached out mental fingers for the one person that was no longer there, and that would never be again.

The rough twine cut into my skin, splinters leaving a red trail with the rest of the pale lines that crossed my fair-toned skin. Forced onto my stomach, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, clothes ripped from me so fast that I felt my skin burn.

His voice was like a knife down my back, cutting me almost in half.

"This is what stupid, careless bitches get...and don't you dare scream, or I will start over."

The first blow of the thin wooden cane across my my calves was almost enough to make me scream, but my teeth sank into my cheek instead. I knew the drill...this was not the first time, or the second time...was it even the thousandth time?

In my head, I began to whisper the letters that kept me from exploding on the inside. Every blow of the cane was a cypher, the pain lancing through me. But in my head was a whispered chant...His name, over and over again.

"E....T....I....E...N....N....E........E....T.....I...."

How many times I repeated the letters in my head, I did not know. But I lost count long before the black crept over the edge of my vision and took over everything.

///

I heard the world before my eyes opened. I could feel the cold wood against my skin, my bare body slick with something that I knew was blood. I tried to shift, but halted instantly as a wave of nausea slammed into my body. I retched but fought it back, knowing that if he found that I had made a mess on his floor, my punishment would be double what it had already been.

Moving my fingers resulted in more pain. I realized that I was now bound to the foot of the bed, hands tied to the footboard and legs tied to a nearby dresser leg. The rope was still around my neck, cutting into my flesh painfully with every breath I took. Everything hurt.

I heard a distant thudding down the hall. I assumed he was working on something else and making excess noise to remind me of his presence.

Then there was the shouting. Raised voices and crashing, splintering wood. Male voices, the sound of fists connecting with flesh, yells that sounded familiar...too familiar...

My eyes flickered open just as the door to the bedroom flew open and a huge figure came bursting in. The man was massive, broad-shouldered and at least six feet tall. My eyes sought out his face, and my blood ran like ice. I knew that face, better than I knew my own name anymore. It was the only thing that had flooded my mind, clung to my dreams.

He crossed the entire room in two steps, and was on His knees beside me in an instant. A knife was in His hand, and though I flinched away, the blade sliced through the ropes binding my wrists and ankles as though they were softened butter.

Carefully, almost reverently, He unwound the choking rope from around my neck. He took His coat off and folded it into a bundle, placing it on the floor and lying my head down against the now-comfortable ground, being careful of my bloodied back and legs.

His strong hands brushed my hair back from my bruised face as gently as a breeze. His touch was light, as though He was afraid to break me further. His palm found my chin and gently cupped my face. His eyes surveyed my face, and down my naked body, hands carefully checking for broken bones before He moved me another inch. Oh, those eyes...so familiar, the sight that had flooded my dreams for months.

And then He spoke. One word that almost seemed to heal my freezing, broken body in an instant.

"Cariad..."

I felt the room starting to spin and my eyes start to flicker. I knew then that I had to be dying, that the monster that I had let into my life had finally beat me until my body broke beyond repair.

I was hallucinating a dead Man...my dead Man. How fitting that it would be Him, the only Man to ever make me feel alive, that ushered me into the beyond.

I let out a rushing breath as my body started to go limp. I managed to whisper His name just as the white fog finally claimed me and my body collapsed to the floor.

///

I had no idea how long I lay in the whiteness. I half-expected to see Him there, but for once, His face was absent. It was His voice I heard instead, calling my name in a gentle, pleading voice. It was the only thing that cut through the fog.

"Isabeau....Iz, please.....come back to me, love...love..."

My eyes finally opened, slowly. The brightness was enough to force my lids closed again, wincing as pain lanced through my head. I tried to reach up a hand to touch my face but a nudge of pain and a tugging feeling in the cleft of my arm was enough to stop me in my tracks.

I groaned and turned my head to the side, eyes opening to see an IV line trailing from my arm up to a nearby pole. The noises that had not penetrated my mind were suddenly very clear. The beeping of a heart monitor, the hiss of the oxygen that flowed into my nose.

So I wasn't dead then. I was in a hospital, not the afterlife. Then how had I...why had I seen Him, then?

A strong hand gripped mind tightly, and fingers found my cheekbones, caressing them softly.

I tried to sit up but the same hands pressed against my shoulders.

"Nice try."

The familiar lilt in the voice made my stomach clench and I forced my eyes to open and put the face with the voice.

Etienne.

I felt all the breathe leave my lungs in a rush. My fingers instinctively reached up to touch His face, almost disbelieving. My fingertips traced over His dark red beard, stopping to rest against His lips. Every line of His face was familiar, every scar and every freckle burned into my head. I had never forgotten His face, even as I had mourned His presumed death every day that I lived for the past year.

His hand gently touched the marks on my neck, and I flinched without realizing. He pulled away slightly, a flicker of something radiating through His eyes. It was a combination of hurt and of anger, though I knew neither were directed at me.

"I'm sorry..." My voice sounded odd, as though it wasn't really mine, and was coming from a thousand miles away. He didn't let me finish. His mouth found mine, lightly pressing His lips against my cracked dry lips.

The kiss lasted barely a second, as though He was hungry for more but was waiting...for what, I didn't know. His fingers trailed down my face; I closed my eyes. Every touch was doing something to me. A combination of so much fear and confusion that I almost cried with frustration, but there was something else too. Something familiar, something I was too afraid to feel again.

His eyes met mine as His massive hands gently cradled my tiny, bruised fingers.

"He won't touch you again, Iz. I made sure of that." His amber eyes hardened for the briefest second, as if recalling something He wouldn't dare tell me. He didn't have to tell me, though; His eyes told me enough to know what He had done, and I would not press for details.

My mind was almost blank with the rush of thoughts swirling to create a brilliant blur. I had a thousand questions for Him, but I didn't know where to start. My lips tried to form words but nothing was making sense anymore.

The confusion in my eyes must have been evident to Him; He kissed my fingers softly and moved to stand. Immediately, my hand flew out, ignoring the painful tug of the IV and wrapped around His wrist.

"Don't leave." My voice sounded very tiny and very frightened, but oddly bold under the circumstances.

He shook His head, sitting back down beside the bed and holding my hand in His.

"I will never leave You again, Iz. Not as long as I live. I love you too much."

My eyes suddenly felt overwhelmingly heavy. As hard as I fought, they drifted closed of their own accord. His voice melted over me like velvet.

"It's okay, I promise. Get some rest, My little one. I'm not going anywhere. I love you...I love you so much, Isabeau."

I allowed myself to relax. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe enough to allow myself the common courtesy of a few moments of slumber without fear.

He had called me "little one." His little one. My heart flipped and one final thought drifted through my head as I fell into the arms of sleep.

I had my Lover back.

I had my Master back.

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4 Comments
huntersangelhuntersangelabout 11 years ago
wow!

ok, i just stumbled upon your story by accident and i'm so sorry that I missed it when it was freshly written, but you know what they say...better late than never. I'm in love with this story and especially even more so because it is based on factual events! I have never had this kind of love with a man, and this is the closest I will ever come, I think. (i'm really hoping that part won't be true) But Iz's and Ettienne's love is timeless, gentle, strong, trusting and filled with mutual respect for each other, to me it's the perfect love. It's so sad that she had to endure hell with her other "master", but I think because of it, it will make their love even more precious to them and they will be even more careful not to ever take it for granted and become complacent with each other. So maybe "hell" was a blessing in disguise.

Speaking of blessings in disguise, maybe NOT catching this story when it was freshly written is a blessing in disguise for me, because now I don't have to wait on pins and needles for the next chapter because omg, it's there already! So thank you so much for such a lovely first chapter His beloved roisin, but I must be moving on to the much anticipated chapter 2!

sligolasssligolassalmost 12 years ago
More Please

Short but very powerful , can't wait for next chapter.

CaitlyCateCaitlyCatealmost 12 years ago
Can't wait for the next chapter!

Definitely 5 *s. I love your writing.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 12 years ago

That's some powerful stuff right there. I look forward to reading the next chapter.

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