(Prompt from ismithwords)
They held her up by her arms, her wrists manacled together.
She had a black eye and a bloody lip. She spat on the ground.
The big man laughed. He noticed the bruises and cuts his men had. “Where’d you find her?”
“The South District.”
The big man looked at her and shook his head. “You gave my men a good chase this time but you didn’t get very far, Flor. Were you trying to hide with the thugs and black market scammers?” He sighed. “You should’ve known they wouldn’t hide you from me. No one in this city will. You’re my slave.”
“I wasn’t running or hiding,” she said.
The big man grinned at his men. “Maybe a little shopping, then?” He laughed and his men followed suit.
“Yeah, I wanted to get you a present,” she said and made a rude gesture with her finger.
The big man pointed at the ground.
The men threw her down.
She fell on her hands and knees. She stood up.
The big man was in front of her. He backhanded her.
She hit the ground, dazed. She shook her head. She moved her tongue around her mouth.
He hit her a few more times.
She lay on the ground, shuddering, holding in the screams.
He sat back down, sighing. “I wish I didn’t have to hurt you,” he said. He snapped his fingers. “Come, little flower, you know the routine. Give me a kiss.”
She crawled across the ground to the foot of his throne. In her mouth, she lifted her tongue and stuck the fake tooth caplet in between her teeth.
He leaned forward.
She bit down, feeling liquid flood her mouth. She threw her handcuffed hands over his head and kissed him deeply.
It took him a moment to throw her off.
His body shook, his mouth burning. “What did you do?” He screamed at her.
Her body jerked in unnatural movements. “Some flowers,” she said. “Have thorns.”