Constricted: Beyond the Brothel Walls by Rae Ryans Read Free Book Online

a hand flying to her mouth.
    My cheeks flared, and I whisked a finger to my mouth to shush her. I couldn’t read anyone’s mind, but she looked as if she were about to scream bloody murder. Surely, my back wasn’t that dreadful, and it couldn’t be because I was stark naked. Her lips closed, and she nodded as wetness pooled in her eyes.
    “Who did this?” she hissed, shaking her head and finger at me. “I know Lord Petre didn’t.”
    Lord? Funny, Jules left off the Petre part too and everything else about him. What did a Lord need with a courtesan and why marry one? The little voice in my head screamed a warning.
    “It’s okay,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
    There wasn’t a handbook or anything for this. My life was what it was; the welts and scars left behind were pieces of me. I hadn’t enjoyed it, and I was already ashamed of it. All the women Uncle Jules kept, some were like me, and not even legal when we began training. The abuse had proven better than freezing and starving on the streets. In return for our services, we had some food, shelter, and clothing. This was how the world worked, and Mellissa should’ve known that too.
    Petre, perhaps he wasn’t much different. Maybe he didn’t beat his slaves, but he visited Jules’ brothel, purchased me, and brought me here. The man couldn’t hurt for company; his money alone would attract available women in droves. A large house, land, steam powered electricity, and a staff … even Uncle Jules didn’t have those luxuries. Why would he want to share them with a courtesan? My brain refused to let go of that question.
    “No,” she said. “No, this tis far from okay. Does Lord Petre know about ye?” I shook my head and tried to sink further away into the water, but it ached and stung the tears out of my eyes. “He will fix this; ye must tell him the truth.”
    Without a time machine heading back to my fourteenth birthday, no one could fix me. I blinked as that memory tried to resurface. That was four years ago, and when my personal hell truly began. “It’s time you earn your keep, sweetheart.” That’s what Jules said to me as he unbuckled his pants. I recalled it clearly, right down to the sweaty odor as he thrust himself in my mouth. He hadn’t cared if I gagged, scraped my teeth, or cried that night.
    The blood drained out of my face as the images flashed before my eyes. He said he’d waited fourteen years for that moment. My grip loosened, and I slid into the tub, ignoring the pain. The emotional onslaught hurt more than physical wounds ever could. I’d trusted him, was just a kid, a stupid, naive child, and he’d stolen that from me.
    “Please tell him,” she said again, but her voice was a million miles away. My teeth clattered, and I stared at the waterspout. “Lord Petre isn’t a monster, but he’ll make sure whoever harmed ye pays.”
    I couldn’t. How would he believe me, if he knew what Uncle Jules did to me? Yes, I was a virgin in the sense I told him, but I wasn’t innocent or pure. The men, they stole from me the fractures of my soul like all the girls, forced me to do things. I shook my head and gagged at the memory. I drew my knees to my chest and lowered my head. Melissa shushed me, dropped to the side of the tub, and brushed my hair out of my face. Hot tears rolled down my face as the elder maid comforted me, and I cried even more. Was this what a mother felt like? A friend?
    “No one will touch ye again, lass, ever.” Her accent tickled my ear with her brave words. She was a servant, but above me. Paid to clean and attend, where my job was to please and make men feel loved. They had every right to beat me if I failed, because I only had the right to life and air to breathe. Everything else fell to my master to provide. Jules reminded me every day. Without a master, I’d die, but now it hadn’t seemed like such an awful idea. I’d held on, surviving each day by telling myself things would change; everything