Tortured Soul by Kirsty Dallas, Ami Johnson Read Free Book Online Page A

sustenance; nothing more, nothing less. I had always dined on good food, fresh food. What I truly missed were sweets. Chocolate, oh God how I missed chocolate. Master Jonas would never compromise my health with sweets. Ridiculous since he had no problem compromising my health and wellbeing in other ways.
    Shakhta buttered a slice of toast and placed it before me. Then he went about filling a bowl with cereal and placed it before me, too. Some sliced pineapple and kiwi fruit was nudged in my direction and finally a glass of juice.
    “One of everything, at least that’s the way I like to eat. You don’t have to eat it all, whatever you can manage is fine.”
    I stared at the food before me with confusion.
    “Everything okay?” he asked after taking a small sip of his own juice.
    I looked from my Master, to the food, and back at him again. Was he not going to feed me?
    “You were fed, weren’t you?” He sighed.
    Of course I was, always. The last time I fed myself...
    “YOU ARE MY SLAVE!” he roared. He towered over me as I cowered on the floor. I had just taken a small piece of potato from his plate. I had been starving, though and I hated being fed. It was beyond degrading, it took humiliation to the next level. He struck me so hard, it had sent me sprawling across the tiles. Now he was looking down on me with fury radiating so thick I could almost see it wafting off his skin. I whimpered with fear and Master Jonas kicked me hard. “KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH SHUT, YOU WHORE!” He kicked me again, and I clenched my teeth so hard they ached with the effort to keep quiet. Then he was gone. I barely had time to roll to my back before he was on me again, his hand full of food. “You want food?” His voice had lowered, which scared me even more. This voice meant I was in a whole new level of trouble. He knelt at my side and stuffed the handful of food into my gaping mouth. I began to choke and cough. “A slave’s place is at her master’s feet, and she does not eat from the table. If she is lucky, he will spare her some food and feed her accordingly. Do you understand?” I spluttered and choked on the food forced into my mouth. Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes and I nodded fiercely, my body racked with throbbing with pain, my throat was sore, and my heart was screaming with sorrow.
    “Em?”
    My shoulders were held in an unfamiliar grip, and the loud resounding voice of my new Master brought me back to the present.
    “There you are, Malen’kaya. I lost you there for a moment.”
    I pushed the lingering flashback away, far away where I couldn’t crumble under the weight of such a horrifying memory.
    “I’m going to feed you, for now, okay.” Shakhta dipped his head a little to look me in the eye.
    I nodded and forced myself to concentrate on my new Master. I was terrified of slipping back into another unwelcome memory. Shakhta slid around to face me and took a small piece of sliced toast, holding it to my lips. I took it graciously and lowered my gaze.
    He was quick to place a finger under my chin and lifted my eyes to meet his. “Eyes up, Em. You have beautiful eyes. I would prefer to see them.”
    The compliment slipped from his lips, floated through the air and melted into my heart. Compliments had evaded me for more years than I cared to remember—nice tits, perfect ass, tight pussy—those were the common observations I was accustomed to, but they weren’t compliments; they were made with no endearment or care behind them.
    “Baby steps, Malen’kaya. We are going to do this in baby steps. I know you need certain things now. It’s a part of how you have been conditioned to live, but I swear that I am going to give you back what you’ve lost, alright?”
    I briefly wondered what malen’kaya meant, but my thoughts were quickly replaced by thoughts of what exactly my new Master intended to give me back. I had lost so much, and a big part of me knew I could never get the moments that had been