Chapter Text
- PROLOGUE-
There was a ringing in his ear, perforating his tympanum. He tried to raise his hand and touched where it hurt, but his hands were locked in place, firmly secured to the ground, keeping him in a painful position.
He was sitting on the dirty ground, legs criss-crossed, back hunched, and hands tightly chained to the floor. In that position, he couldn't stand or lie down, forced to sit hunched, causing him constant pain. He was basically naked, just a threadbare boxer covering, not enough to shield him from the cold. He couldn't talk or even beg; a thick metal muzzle kept his mouth trapped. The position, the lack of clothes, and the harmful headwear were meant to break him, and it was working.
His body tensed when he heard the familiar noise of boots scraping the wood. He tried to cower, to put enough distance, but he couldn't move, tied hands keeping him on the floor.
The door slammed open, and a man came inside. He was carrying a little tray, and as soon as he entered, he let the tray go, letting the measly food fall to the dirty ground.
“I don't get why Eena keeps you around. Look at you, just a filthy pig, eating from the ground, dirtying the floors,” the man spat, using his foot to hit the chained male. “If it were for me, I would have sold you a long time ago, but I don't think anybody wants to buy a useless animal like you.” The man sounded angry, almost as if the chained man had personally offended him.
The man crouched a little, flourishing his hand, conjuring a tiny silver key from thin air. Before he unlocked the chains, he grabbed the man’s face by the muzzle, knowing it hurt, “Listen to me, pig. I’m gonna unchain you, and you will hurry. You are not allowed to speak or stand up. If you try any of those, I will whip you so bad there won't be any skin left to tear. Do you understand?” The chained man could only nod, knowing those words were not empty, biting his tongue when the muzzle was removed.
The witch spat at him and used the key to unchain the restrictive bonds that kept the poor man in such pain. When the man tried to take some of the dirty bread from the floor, the witch hit him hard on the ribs, “No hands!” he shouted, “You are a pig, and pigs don't have hands to eat,” he said. The witch was a sadist and enjoyed inflicting pain on the battered man.
Crawling like a pitiful creature, the man lowered his head to the ground, taking the filthy bread that got covered in piss when it landed on the floor. He knew it was degrading and unsafe, but he had no other choice. Fighting would only earn him a belting, and at this point, all he wanted to do was let go. Without pain, preferably.
After taking a couple of bites from the dirty bread, he felt the painful pull of his matted hair, and he yelped. The witch kept pulling, laughing maliciously at the pain he was inflicting. Just to sate his sick depravity, he tugged the tangled hair harshly, managing to pluck a lock of hair right off the root, making the poor man scream in agony.
Completely unfazed by the pain he caused, the witch placed the muzzle back and chained him to the floor, leaving with a satisfied smile.
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