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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
In the morning I found the dress of the day; a long black dress with long sleeves laid out for me to wear.
This was a loose fit; and that was a comfort at least. I wasn’t sure I could have handled to have my sensitive, battered skin squeezed and compressed into a tight dress as well.

…

I made it to the breakfast table to find her sipping coffee pensively. Her long fingers were holding the cup in a tight and yet delicate grip. Her bright red nails demanding attention against the white china.
I sat down across from her; feeling my system give a jolt of shock. Her eyes were scanning me and I was chewing on my lip. Breathing sharply.
This woman had basically attacked me and beaten me black and blue the night before; and here I was sitting down at her breakfast table… like a good girl.
Kate interrupted the moment when she served breakfast. I gave her a careful smile and she rushed out of there; she could feel the tension as well I’m sure.
If only she knew how happy I was to see her just then...
“Next time you won’t be so happy to sit” Miss A. simply remarked and cut into her melon slice. “When you played ‘Cowboys and Indians’ did that make you wet too?” She was cold as ice and I felt like a deer stuck in headlights. Freezing up.
That was really not the change of subject I had hoped for.
“I was 7, Miss A.” I barely had air in my lungs to talk. And today my ribs weren’t even crushed by restrictive garments. But she had knocked the air clean out of me.
“Tell me about it” she cut her toast. I hadn’t even touched my food. My eyes were peeled on the plate however.
“I’m sorry , I don’t know what happened with me yesterday” I apologized for the appalling thing that happened between my legs.
I just couldn’t help it. It wasn’t as if it was a switch I could turn on and off…
“Mira, tell me about when you were 7”. She ignored my apology completely; leaning in over the table towards me just slightly, but enough for me to know. I was tempted to lean back; keeping the distance.
“Miss A, please” my bottom lip quivered.
“Tell me” she sipped her coffee. Unaffected.
“He was a teenage boy… ” my throat was dry. I reached for a glass of juice. Her eyes bored into me, wordlessly threatening me to continue talking or else.
“He found me playing on my own… I was always on my own as a kid and he…” I took another sip of the apple juice. “He took me to the woods saying we were going to play cowboys and Indians… he tied my hands to my feet with skipping ropes there” I was blinking; my mouth growing dry and no amount of juice could help it.
The images in my head were vivid and I was desperately trying to supress them.
“He hogtied you” I felt as if she was lecturing me. My teeth dug into my poor bottom lip.
What did it matter what it was called? It shouldn’t have happened in the first place!
“He touched me, and left me”. I was trying hard not to give into the chaos that was bubbling inside me. I couldn’t give in. I had spent too long trying to forget about my past. Locking it away in a drawer way back in my brain.
My hand was on my thigh under the table; my fingers digging into some of the worst bruises. I felt the jolts of pain rush through my system and felt lightheaded even. At least it dimmed the stupid emotions that was about to take over.
“And who found little helpless Mira?” her pretended, and obviously faked motherly worry pissed me off. Anger was being fuelled inside me. It took physical strength to not give into it. My hand dug harder into my thigh and I gasped at the sensation.
“Two of my school teachers” I briefly answered. Hoping my voice was as calm as I meant it to be.
“I’m sure there was a manhunt for that young man” She watched me carefully, curiously.
“The teachers would rather assume I got myself into the ropes”. I angrily cut the toast and scuffed it in, washing it down with coffee. My thigh throbbing now that I had let go of it.
“And mummy?”.
The toast was on its way back up. I could feel the cold as my face was going pale.
“She spanked my ass for it” my eyes were narrow as I glared back at her.
I made a mistake when I followed this woman. A big mistake!
I couldn’t figure out what had possessed me to go with her? My entire body was bruised and now I was struggling with tears; forced to relive painful memories. Memories I had tugged away for a reason…
My pride was the worst casualty however. It was left in tatters; still tied to that bed crying desperately for mercy.
But it wasn’t as if I had something to return to. I should be grateful for a warm bed to sleep in; three daily meals served and a roof over my head. I was lucky. Right? I should be grateful!
“I see I upset you” she interrupted my internal monologue about what a stupid, stupid girl I had been.
My reply was a nod. I realized silence was my best defence. I would end up saying something I’d sorely regret later. I wasn’t stupid…
“I’m sorry for what you experienced, but I’ll need to know what ticks you off”. She was awfully all business about my personal emotions.
I was a game for her; and she enjoyed playing it… And I seemed to allow her.
“Do you want us to change your safe-word?” her face softened. Was that kindness?
Was she even capable of that?
Perhaps it was just more convenient for her...
“Please Miss A.” my voice was small. I was still dealing with the tears that wanted to roll down my cheeks; but I knew I might not be able to stop them if they started.
And something told me she’d have a special way of making sure I stopped sniffling.
“I’ll give you 45 seconds to come up with a safe word you’re more comfortable with. If you fail I chose for you and this time it won’t be up for discussion”.
My mouth opened. Discussion? I hadn’t said a word!
“Starting now” She looked to her wrist watch and my mind went completely blank.
My head was empty, all that was left was the panic.
I was Searching high and low for a word. Just a word… any word… anything!
“Ten, nine…” She was counting down and only when she was at “Three” my eyes lay on the pink rhododendron crowns that adorned the table. My heart was in my throat pounding away.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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