An Object of Desire Ch 1: A graceful embodiment of agony

That is all she was born to be.. fated to be.. and soon enough under the burden of abuse, desired to be.. “An Object of Desire”.

The world around her seemed to be awfully still. There was no sound, no voices, no footsteps, there was no stir in the air around, all was quiet. The stillness engulfed her more than the darkness of the basement in which she spent most of her time. Helplessly bound in metal shackles, her brutally abused body shivering on the cold wooden floor. An old rusted metal chain was connected to her permanently wielded collar. She didn’t have much room for the chain was connected to the wall nearby. Her mouth hole was plugged shut by a steel rod, it was kept in with the help of an awfully tight seamless rubber hood over her head. She was bound by darkness, the darkness of the cold basement, the darkness of her hooded bondage, the darkness of the oppressive nature of her world, the darkness of his impulses, and the darkness of her own desires. During the initial stages of her imprisonment she would have struggled, kicked, screamed and cried. But by now all her struggles had subsided, all her screams had been muted, her tears were silent and hidden behind the blinding hood. In the silence of the basement, when the wetness would have all been dried, she often recalled the dreaded path that brought her, to where she is today.

FLASHBACK

Maya is a 13 year old girl having recently entered the 8th grade in school, living in an urban neighborhood. She has always been a quiet child compared to others her age, she has an understanding of pain and love like no other. Her beauty stands out, she resembled a youthful maiden at the naïve age of 10. Now at 13 she looked like a flower in its full bloom. She had seen men eye her with nothing but lust in them, they brushed past her with a hungry gaze while she stood there in alarming confusion. Entering teenage, finding her bearing through the swirling tornado of hormonal and emotional changes, made her question her place in the world. While boys her age quietly wished to woo her, she developed a growing concern towards the men. The older, stronger, hungry men. Men that always held their lust filled piercing gaze at her direction.

Maya knew the gaze caused her discomfort, but this feeling of violation was not unfamiliar. Men in her family had taken the liberty to feel her youthful body for their amusement. Maya carried the weight of their touch as unflinchingly as quietly. And yet, flinched at every harmless and platonic touch from her classmates. She had without a break been touched, felt, and upon any objections slapped by her own father since the day her mother had died. Maya had lost her mother at the age of 10 to a car accident. Her father soon drowned himself in alcohol and turned from a loving guardian, to an abusive bastard in her life. She had learnt to internalize all objection and screams, buried all her hurt and misery within herself. Became a living breathing dead body, a being with an understanding of pain and grief, like no other. She knew she was bound by shackles unseen to the world, she carried their weight with an ease unknown to the world, ‘a graceful embodiment of agony’.

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