I've ready many stories where one of the ninja had become a slave. Well, I've never seen nor heard one where Kai was a slave. Kai was born into slavery, his mother wasn't Maya, the wife of Ray Smith.
No, his mother had been a teenage girl, only se...
A kick to my side wakes me. Master stands over me, I get up from my bedding at the foot of his bed. Bowing like I've been taught, master motions for me to follow. My bear feet hit the floor, they scraped and raw but I pay no mind. "Here's a list for you to do." Master says, handing me a rolled up paper. Pulling the cord off, I read it. Master allowed the privilege to learn to read and write.
With a bow, I head to do my chores. Cleaning the staffing area, I begin to mop the floor. Placing signs at the door, the chairs up, I get up to work. Near the staff entrance, I pick up some trash as a clatter sounds. Looking, Nick is on the floor, he had slipped and feel. "You fucking slave, trying to hurt me." He growls. I put signs up so people would know the floors wet. Looking, none of them are at the doors. A hand grips my shoulder at the pressure point and I yelp as master leads me away. "Well, I guess it's time for you to learn your place." Master says. I whimper in fear, the other slaves have talked about the punish room. I don't fight, it only makes it worse. Coming to the iron door, he swings it open and throws me to the ground. Cuffs go on my ankles, rope around my wrists and they are pulled till I'm hunched over on the floor. My shirt ripped off and I cry out as the sting of the wrip creaks on my back.
Fifty lashes, back raw, blood twinkles down to the floor. Master grabs my hair, forcing me to look at hem. "Three days in here, let's see how that changes your attitude." Master walks away, the door slaming. I only see black, the room has no windows. All I know is when the door finally opens again and the cuffs and rope come off, I'm dragged out and thrown on masters bed. He gets on top and does unspeakable things to me.
A week goes by before I'm allowed out. My back is scabbed over, it's tight, if I move the wrong way, they pop and blood seeps into my shirt. Sweeping the floor, my mind wonders to my mother. Master has told me she died having me but I don't believe that. I think master took me from her. I do remember what she looks like.
Her green eyes, violet purple hair. But her face is what gets me. It was one of longing, she was reaching out. I dream of a woman on a bed, held by four men and master is in the room. I must look like my father, redish brown eyes and chestnut brown hair. But my face is like mother's. A hand on my shoulder brings me out of my thoughts. Master stands there. Bowing my head, he looks at me. "Deep in thought." He says, I nod. "About." "My....mo..mother." I say, he asked a direct question so I answered. His eyes harden "I've told you, she died the day you were born." Lies. He only ever tells me lies when it comes to mother. He reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a picture. "That's her. Keep it." He drops it and walks away. Looking at it, I stroke the cheek.
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Folding it up, I tuck it in my pants and get back to cleaning. 'Mother, I'll find you and we can be happy together.' I think.
