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Whipped	By : This_is_The_Phantom_Lady Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3753 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This contains major triggers for people with issues with self-harm. I do not own or profit on any official BBC Sherlock characters or any other part of BBC Sherlock.

Chapter List
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“There you are” Miss A stepped into the dining room and my vivid imagination stalled… a voice at the back of my mind whispered ‘You will know soon enough…’.
She beamed as she saw me and I wiped the last of the delicious jus from my lips.
“You must have been starving” she sat herself down across from me; In front of her own plate. There was a hint of motherly worry painted on her face. At least that was how I interpreted it.
“Kate, could you get another plate for Mira?” she called out impatiently. The maid returned and this time she seemed much softer as she placed the plate in front of me.
“Miss… I can’t, I shouldn’t” I stumbled over the words. My stomach growled. For the first time in a long while I felt how hungry I actually was.
“Yes you can” her eyes pierced through mine and the maid was gone.
Obeying the ‘order’ I put the fork to the steak and ate the meal in silence.
“And it is Miss A.” she corrected me as I gulped the last bite down and wiped my lips. She finished shortly after.
“Sorry, Miss A.” I beamed.
“That’s a good girl…” she got on her feet and before I knew it she was behind me leaning down to level her mouth to my ear and told me “Time for bed”.
I physically felt something crumble and burst inside of me.

…

I was in a large, gorgeous bedroom; not hers though.
The bed was large with a canopy hanging over it and I was running my finger over the sleek lacquered finish on the dresser. I was admiring how the classic stocky furniture didn’t come off as heavy in the room; it was simply elegant; and very English I noted.
With every breath I took in the scent of fresh sheets. Oh how I had missed that smell!
It was hard to fathom that hours ago a soggy cardboard box would have been a blessing.
She came into the room; giving my attire a good look and nodded in agreement with herself.
“I was right… White really is your colour”. She was speaking of the silk nightie she had ordered me to change into. “Please get to bed, you must be tired” she took a step towards me and I nodded; Climbing into bed, obediently.
My insides cramped. I felt like a lamb on the way to the slaughter. I was using all of my strength to keep a calm exterior. She couldn’t know… she couldn’t. The voice in my head was whispering to me; trying to remind me that I deserved what I had coming.
“I am not going to hurt you tonight, Mira” she answered my unspoken worry. I looked up at her as she towered over the bed and me; making her seem immensely tall. “But I am going to hurt you, I might even go too far with you” My eyes widened. Words failed me again… I couldn’t even move. “You will not be my sub, you will be my employee. Do you understand Mira?” Her eyes were stern as they were picking me apart. I nodded.
I was screaming internally however; ‘No, NO, NO! I do not understand!’. Because I didn’t.
“The door is always open for you to leave, and we will have to find you a safe word… but every day you manage to stay and assist me I will pay you a set amount that you will be given the day you walk away. And yes, Mira. You will.” Her arrogance was chilling and I still couldn’t move. It felt as if some strange force was moving my head for me when I nodded. Accepting her deal. Sealing my fate.
“I am your employer, not your dominatrix” she bent down and caressed my wrist and stretched my arm out carefully. I heard the click of the shackle closing around it before I felt it. I swallowed. The shackles seemed to be a set accessory to the bed; hidden in the mattress.
“And the trial period begins now Mira… I have to know I was right about you.” She moved; those heels clicking loudly and my other wrist met the same fate. Tying me to the bed. My naked ankles were restricted as well.
She put the duvet carefully over me and stood back to admire her handiwork. I was counting my breaths; feeling a panic wanting to bubble to the surface. I couldn’t afford it… not just literally but I just had a feeling it wouldn’t help me to get out of the predicament.
It was a fight between one half of my mind and the other: one wanting me to thrash and scream for the psycho bitch to let me go. The other calmly explaining just how bad panicking was in my situation. All it would lead to would be bruised skin, maybe even cuts and what was even worse; a hurt pride…
“Goodnight Mira. If you want to come out of your bonds just call on me. I will hear you” she gestured with her head towards a baby alarm sitting on the nightstand.
Wait. Was I supposed to stay like this for an entire night? Even my rational side of my mind took a gasp.
“And I’ll see you… You should know the entire house is rigged with cameras”. With that she began to take her leave.
“Miss A.” I called out to her just as she was about to close the door behind her.
“Yes, dear?” she purposely sounded motherly; pretending to care. Of course she didn’t. She had me chained to a bloody bed!
“Goodnight” I disappointed myself by saying. With a sheepish grin she was gone… leaving me.

…

It was a long night. I was constantly forced to keep my mind under control; to go against every human instinct I had left.
I studied the canopy, the draping and tried to figure out if it was white, off white or cream coloured.
The panic was continuously lurking just under the surface; waiting for a second of weakness to take over.
When the itch started I was about to lose it. It was right under my left foot and the more I tried to ignore it the more it demanded attention.
When it was worst I was about to call out for her to help me, to admit defeat.
I didn’t care how but I needed the itch to stop. The second my lips opened the familiar voice at the back of my mind was doing a smug ‘tut-tut’. How could I even think she would care? About me, don’t be daft! She won’t care… At best she’ll watch those cameras and laugh. Ha!
‘Look where you ended up… you never learn’. The voice even sounded pleased. Maybe I was a masochist; but surely that voice was a sadist!
I closed my eyes and let my breathing mimic the breathing pattern of sleep. I hoped it would trick my body to fall asleep. It worked sometimes and hopefully it would this time as well… it was the last good idea I had left in my bag of tricks.
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