Warning: This story contains very mature themes so please don't read it if you have an aversion to rape, prostitution, and abuse.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

For my mother…

She winced as his hand came down on her cheek. A loud slapping noise was heard echoing through the silent room.

"You disobeyed me Isabella." He sneered at her.

"What have I done Master?" she asked with a shaky voice. She was standing naked with her hands intertwined in front of her. She stared at the floor; having learned early on that looking him in the eye was the worst possible thing to do. Her cheek stung but she bit back her tears knowing the consequences of crying.

"You have no right to ask me what the motivations for my actions are. You are nothing but a filthy used up whore. Am I right?" he sneered into her ear as he circled her slowly.

"Yes Master." She felt more tears building up in her eyes.

"Say it." He barked loudly.

"I am nothing but a filthy used up whore." Her voice was monotonous.

"Good girl." He said as he stroked her curly mahogany hair. Then he grabbed her roughly and turned her around. He bent her over the edge of the bed. Her knees couldn't reach the floor so she balanced herself on the balls of her feet.

She bit her lip to keep herself from crying.

"It's time for your punishment Isabella." His voice was mocking. It made her shiver. She knew what was coming and she was powerless to prevent it. "Three on each side. Count them out loud."

She nodded. "Yes Master." Her voice shook.

She felt the cold edge of the razor blade against the back of her thigh. He tore through her skin. "One."

He moved lower. "Two."

He again moved lower. "T-Three." She could feel her warm blood trickle down her thighs.

He switched to her other thigh. "One."


"T-T-Three." She was holding back sobs by now.

"Now apologize Isabella." His rough voice startled her.

She turned around and kneeled before him. She reached up and unzipped his pants.

She closed her eyes and tried not to think about what she was doing. She tried not to listen to his noises and his words.

When he finished he turned her around and pushed her onto the bed. He kneeled in between her legs and began to humiliate her in the worst ways possible. She fought the pain and the tears; biting her lip to keep from crying. She wasn't ready for him. She was never ready for him.

He palmed her breasts roughly; squeezing and pinching at her nipples. He twisted them and was unaware of the fact that he had torn her skin. She bit down on her tongue, knowing that if she made a noise without his permission, he would punish her severely.

Minutes passed but all she could feel was the excruciating pain.

She was his favorite out of all the girls in the house. He didn't use them as much as he used her. It was because she was the most beautiful. She had flawless pale skin. Her full lips were as red as cherries and her eyes were a deep brown. They were fringed by unnaturally long black lashes that tickled her cheeks whenever she blinked. She had a small button like nose.

She was very petite; only standing at 5'2'' and weighing less than a hundred pounds.

But that was why he liked her most. She was smaller and tighter. She was most easy to 'dominate'.

She felt him grow larger inside of her before he grunted and growled for a few seconds as he spilled himself into her.

He pulled out of her then. He pushed her and she fell on the bed. Her body shook with silent sobs.

"Thank me Isabella." He sneered.

"Thank you Master." Her face was hidden behind her hair as she lay on her side.

He chuckled as he left her room; slamming the door shut.

When she heard that sound, she broke down sobbing. Her chest heaved up and down as she wished for a different life. She wished for a life where she was free. She got up. Her head was hung, defeated, as she limped to the bathroom.

She felt excruciating soreness between her legs. But she sucked her tears up, knowing that her first time had been much worse. He had not taken mercy on her. He didn't care that she was too young. He didn't care that she was too small. He didn't have a care in the world as he plunged into her virgin body and ripped her innocence away.

She looked in the mirror that hung above the sink. She saw a girl. She saw that the girl had tears streaming down her face. They looked like they burned like acid. She saw a girl with sad brown eyes and a heart wrenching expression. She saw a weak girl; a girl that didn't fight hard enough.

She bit her lip as it quivered. She spit into the sink when she tasted the vile flavor in her mouth.


It was everywhere. It was always everywhere after he came.

A dark bruise was quickly forming on her cheek. She couldn't let it happen. He would punish her and blame her even if he knew how she got the mark.

The others didn't care about marks, but he did.

She grabbed a hand towel from the rack near the sink. She held it under the cold spray under the tap. She held the cold towel to her face; hoping that God would answer her prayers and save her from the slavery and the abuse; hoping the bruise would fade before he returned and gave her many many more.


"We are getting them all line up Mr. Masen. You will see them shortly, but first I want to go over some paperwork with you." The tall white haired man spoke with a light Italian accent. His voice was whispery and faint; but its tone demanded authority.

"Alright." Was his only reply.

He walked down the small narrow hallway, following the old man. The walls were painted a light beige; similar to the color of vomit. He winced at the disgusting analogy.

Doors lined the hallway. All of them were closed. All of them held young girls praying for an escape. But one door was open and as he passed by, his electric green eyes settled on a pale, dark haired woman who was reading a book.

He was immediately intrigued by her, but Aro ushered him along before he could state his interest.

Aro led him into a dark dungeon like room. A line of young women stretched from wall to wall. They all shivered and shook; all wanting escape, but hating the possibility that their escape would be worse than their imprisonment.

But he saw that the pale, dark haired woman stood perfectly still. She was afraid but she didn't show it. Every man she had ever met lived off of fear. If she didn't show fear, they wouldn't desire anything from her was what she thought. Unfortunately they did anyways. They desired her body. They desired it intensely.

His eyes swept over her form and his body immediately gravitated towards her. He paused in front of her. Her eyes gazed downward; settling on his shiny black shoes.

Her hands were intertwined in front of her and her mahogany hair curled all the way down to her waist. The tight black dress that clung to her skin was uncomfortable.

Aro's light papery voice rung through the air, "This is Anthony Masen. But you will call him Sir. Now greet him." He commanded.

"Good day Sir." Was the monotonous reply of the group of women. He finally heard her voice. He was dying to hear it.

It was soft and sweet. He knew that he couldn't leave her there. "Her." He said as he nodded towards her small frame.

He had chosen.

He wasn't supposed to.

She shivered in fear. He was so much larger than her, well over a foot taller. He was well muscled. She could tell that he had enormous strength hidden beneath his grey suit.

She was afraid.

"Ah. Excellent choice Mr. Masen. She is a favorite of many customers." Aro spoke from his place near the door. "When would you like to take her home?" Aro asked.

"Today." He replied as he stared at the pale woman shivering in front of her.

"Eager are we." Aro smirked knowingly. "I can see why." His voice was threatening and low. His desire for her was intense, but he knew that he couldn't cross Anthony Masen who was supposedly extremely rich and powerful; keeping to himself and living a very private life. "Isabella." Aro spoke. "Return to your quarters and pack your belongings. Be ready to leave within the hour."

"Yes Master." She complied and made her way out the door.

As soon as she made it back to her room she collapsed on her bed. Sobs racked her small form and she knew then that she would never know the freedom she so desperately desired.

Just then her door swung open. She jumped and sat up, wiping away the tears that spilled from her eyes.

It was him. She had no idea how he had heard the news that she had been bought. He obviously had connections.

"Isabella." He stood in front of her as stroked her face softly. Then he raised his hand up and slapped her as hard as he could. She cried out and cradled her face as she sobbed softly. "You stupid slut." He sneered. "I'll find you Isabella. Trust me. And when I do, I'll never let go. I'll fuck you so hard you'll be coughing up blood." He whispered into her ear.

She sobbed louder.

He pushed her onto the bed and held her body still as she struggled to break free. She tasted bile in the back of her throat as his hands traveled up her legs slowly.

"Please don't." she begged. She knew that speaking would ignite his anger, but she desperately wanted to be free of him.

He froze then and glared at her. His muddy brown eyes flashed with disdain.

His hands were around her neck then; squeezing her flesh; choking her. Her hands clawed at his fingers as her body was denied the oxygen she desperately needed.

"How dare you bitch? You have no right to tell me what to do. How would you like it if I fucked you right now whiles I choked you to death? You're a fucking slut and you know it." He waited for her to respond; for her to agree. He knew that she couldn't and he loved that she was so helpless beneath him.

She had no idea where his anger came from or what fueled it. She did know that the fact that he couldn't buy her like she was house wares made him extremely volatile.

She knew that he was waiting for a response but she couldn't as she helplessly continued to claw at his fingers, which were still tightly wrapped around her neck.

She saw black dots cloud her vision as she slowly slipped away. He moved his free hand to the front of his jeans and he pulled his zipper down.

He released himself. He reached down to the hem of her dress and pulled it upwards; ignoring her struggles as he pushed her panties aside.

She began to feel dizzy as the lack of oxygen began to cloud her brain.

She felt her skin tearing little by little as he plunged into her. Her nails scraped against his skin more forcefully and she knew she was drawing blood.

He released the hold he had of her neck. He didn't want her to pass out. He wanted her awake for this. She coughed violently and her sobs grew louder.

"P-please…" she begged him to stop. Instead, he pounded into her harder. She screamed louder as his actions became wilder and more painful.

He stilled inside of her as he released. "Ah yes Isabella." He pulled out of her and put himself back into his pants.

He didn't notice that he had her blood on him.

He didn't notice the blood that ran out of her body slowly. "Thank me Isabella."

She let out a strangled sob. "Thank you Master."

He growled then. He leaned down and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her up into a sitting position by her hair.

There was a dark bruise on her cheek and a little cut on her cheekbone. Her lips had a cut at the side as well. Tears streamed down her face.

He slapped her again and she cried out. "Say my fucking name you whore." He spat at her.

More sobs erupted from her, "Thank you Master Jacob."

He grinned at her evilly then. His white teeth shined brightly against his dark brown skin. His face disgusted her and she fought the urge to spit in it.

"I'll find you Isabella. Remember that." With that he stormed out, leaving her a sobbing heap on her bed.

She cried because of her pain. She cried because she knew that Anthony Masen would hurt her the same way…perhaps he would hurt her more.

She didn't know. All she knew was that she would never know freedom.

She pulled herself up and once again, she found herself limping to the bathroom. She wet a towel and put it against her cheek.

The bruise was horrible and impossible to notice. She was afraid that her new Master would be angry that she was broken already. She was afraid that he would hurt her because of it.

She cleaned the mess between her legs; wincing and biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from screaming out in pain.

She fixed her dress; hating the fact that she looked like a first class whore.

She went to the nightstand that stood at the corner of her bed and picked up the only thing she owned. It was a book. She read it repeatedly and she continued to love it. It was 'Wuthering Heights'. She loved the complexity of the novel. She loved that fact that she never really understood it. She loved that she could read it over and over again and each time learn something new.

Suddenly her door swung open. She dropped to her knees, clasped her hands in front of her and looked at the floor.

The man who bought her came to stand in front of her…she had already forgotten his name. She heard the man take in a sharp breath of air.

"What are you doing on the floor?" his velvety voice penetrated the air around her.

"I-I thought that this was the preferred position Sir." Her voice trembled.

She felt it as he reached his hand out to her. She flinched at his impending touch. Suddenly his hand disappeared from her line of sight. She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose; silently preparing herself for the inevitable slap that would land on her cheek.

But instead, she felt his hand rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. "Shhh." He cooed. She hadn't even realized that she was sobbing.

She didn't know what to do. She bit her lip and the sobs faded. "I'm sorry Sir."

"Don't apolo—" he stopped himself with a sigh; hating that he was about to completely disregard the fact that she was just raped for the sake of 'keeping in character'. His sweet breath washed over her face and she shivered. "Come on. Let's go." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up roughly.

He pulled her out of the room and down the hallway; dragging her tiny body as if he could care less about her pain when in truth, the little whimpers that escaped her mouth made his heart clench.

She tried not to limp; not knowing what would happen to her if she did. She ignored the searing pain in between her legs as she moved with him.

Aro stood by the exit door and waited for them. He smiled and spoke, "Well Mr. Masen. I hope you enjoy yourself." He eyed her hungrily. "And remember. If you are unhappy, you may return her."

The bronze haired man glared at Aro. "I am not pleased Aro."

Aro's grin fell. He flashed his ice blue eyes to Bella's face. "Has she disobeyed you already?" He asked angrily; his hand twitching to raise up and slap her across the face.

"No." The bronzed man growled as he pulled her by the wrist so that she was besides him instead of behind. "I spent a lot of money on her." He spat like she was a disease. "And she's already damaged." His pale head shook from side to side as he scoffed. "If I use her before she's healed she'd die and I'd have to by another."

"I'm…terribly sorry Mr. Masen. To compensate, I will put together something for you…toys that the others loved to use with her."

The bronzed man nodded his head with pursed lips. "I want that done soon." With that he pulled her out of the doors. The alley was dark. He led her out and down the cold street. Her bare feet made contact with the hard cement sidewalk of downtown Seattle.

She didn't have any shoes.

He stopped when he reached his car. He opened her door. "Get in." his voice was hard and she flinched as she lowered herself into the car.

She winced as she sat down. It hurt. He got into the car and started the engine. He drove off quickly. She stared at the Seattle skyline and she suddenly remembered. She had left her book. Now she really did have nothing. She had no belongings. She had no love. She had no more tears left to cry.

She had no freedom.

This happens more than you would ever possibly want to know.