Cigarette burns

*Very important message at end*
**Warning! This chapter mentions graphical scenes of abuse. Apologies for any discomfort. Please feel free to skip this chapter if you are triggered by this topic.**
"Fire." It left my mouth and bounced across the room and then dissolved into the air. By now I'd made my choice and that led me here, on Damon's bed, sitting cross-legged in front of him as he listened intently.
"That's how it all began, with fire. When I was young, probably about twelve, the only family I had ever known died in a fire, and my soul died with them. I lost everything that day, my mother, my father, and my little sister. God knows how I survived. All I remembered was waking up in the hospital, disillusioned, high on pain meds and amongst the loudest chatter I had ever heard in my life. For a few days no one told me anything, not where they were, not how I ended up in the hospital... not that they were dead. It was only when the social worker came in that I actually learnt about everything- the mysterious fire that scorched away at my future and my family. So, naturally as an orphaned little girl I was put into an orphanage: Yellow Tail Orphanage to be exact. Back then I was quite chubby, I guess. I got teased, made fun of, hated upon and slowly, I began to hate myself. But this only got worse when I was taken in by my first set of foster parents, the Kennedys. They beat the chubbiness out of me, quite literally. Not only that, but they had bad smoking and alcohol problem which led to these-" I moved closer towards Damon, turned around and began running my fingers through my hair as I lifted the strands and exposed the upper skin on my neck. Damon gasped and touched his fingers against the skin before uttering, "cigarette burns."
I nodded, "Yes. They made sure to put them in a place my social worker wouldn't find them. Not that she would have cared in any case. But after a year or so they were caught in the act by one of the neighbours and so, I was sent back to Yellow Tail. I honestly thought things would have gone smoother after that. But they honestly didn't, and I began to realise that my social worker was basically a demon sent from hell, hell bent on destroying my childhood. The next foster parents I was given to were the Graysons. If I thought the Kennedys were bad... The Graysons ran an underground fighting syndicate featuring, no, not dogs, but children. It was here were my daily life changed from well, living to surviving, and so was the case for the other children adopted by the Graysons. I remember my first fight. Mud beneath my feet, collar and chain around my neck like I was some kind of dog and the chilling fear in me as I stared at my rabid-eyed opponent. Then they set us off on one another. I remember the sound of my bones breaking as the boy I fought against thrashed me against the floor. I remember the blood gushing out of my mouth as he kicked me in the stomach, again, and again. I can even remember the words I uttered before I passed out, 'save me'. That's all I could think. *Someone save me, even death was welcome to take my hand and lead me out of such misery*."
By now the tears had begun to stream down my face, running down to my chin where they began to drop onto the sheets of Damon's bed. But I just stared blankly at the wall, never uttering anything except for my chilling words, like a robot, telling my story.
"But eventually I grew better and better and the fights became less taxing on my body, and more taxing on theirs. Things were, bearable for a few years, but everything changed when I turned sixteen and one of the children I lived with, died during one of the fights. I don’t know why, but I just snapped. I was sick and tired of living life like a dog… no like a thing. So, that night, I had executed my first murder. I took the gun from their safe and fired two bullets into each of my foster parents’ heads. But of course, there are always consequences to murder: jail and guilt. And so, I ran away, never looking back.
I then began living on the streets, not willingly of course. No money, no education, no home, and no family. I was alone in the world again, with the blood of the Graysons on my hands. Again, my life was pure survival... until I met Lucien one faithful night. I won't ever forget it. It was dark out and cold with autumn slowly nearing. The air had that distinct smell of death in it, quite suffocating really, and to the point where you needed to cover your nose and mouth to avoid throwing up at its pungency. Suddenly, I found myself surrounded and outnumbered by six men. Hungry, that's what they looked like, hungry with desire. I remember feeling utterly helpless under their gaze, like a hare caught by a group of wild, starving lions. My fighting skills could get me only so far, especially considering that I was one person. And so, I just stood there, awaiting my dignity to stripped away from me. Waiting for them to prove just how powerless I was against them. I hoped they'd kill me too, that way I wouldn't need to keep on suffering, that way I could rot in hell and burn in the fire until I was nothing but a fleshless demon. I figured it would be better than living. But they never touched me, and it was not my night to die, but theirs. Lucien had, in a matter of seconds murdered all six men. I thought he was going to kill me, but instead, he looked down with his gleaming golden eyes and offered a gentle smile.
The first words he uttered to me were, 'are you alright there?' and I know it might not seem like much, but the way he said it was so genuine, and it was truly the first time anyone had ever asked such a thing. Was I alright? He knew I wasn't from the first glance at me. And so, he stuck out a hand for me, and I took it, engrossed in this idea of having someone so beautiful save someone as ugly and stained as I was. He took me in thereafter. His 'Little Vixen' as he called me. I was his first Vixen. He pruned me, molded me and shaped me. He taught me everything, reading, writing, science, geography, history, you name it. I was quite the fast-learner, and by the time I was nineteen, I practically had the knowledge any nineteen-year-old who had finished school would have. But his teaching was not complete it seems, and so he began teaching me the art of pleasure and sex. It was, as he had explained it, 'one of the greatest weapons any person could possess’. I never believed him until my first task.
Power. That's what it was. The power of being in control, of having it all given to you. The sound of screams of pain and pleasure, I'd never heard anything sweeter. And slowly, I began to enjoy it, having the upper hand, and finally being able to take control. I was no longer some insignificant thing, bruised, damaged, broken. I was Jasmine Spectra, the first Vixen, Lucien's first greatest creation. Slowly, he began introducing more women like me into the world of sex and pleasure, all willing of course, because to be unwilling was practically suicide. And for a while, things were okay... and I began for Lucien, the man who saved me. But things changed when I began wanting things for myself, and when I grew tired of being his ‘Little Vixen’. An education, a life, a home, a family, friends. You see, for Lucien I was his. He didn't see me as he saw the other women working for him. They were given freedom, lives and most importantly, they were given the choice to leave once they had gotten on their feet. But not me. I was always with and under Lucien. You could never find me without him. I don't know what it was, perhaps the fact that I was a virgin, untainted and pure. Perhaps it was the fact that I was the first one to live with him in that big, empty house. Or perhaps-"
"He knew you and I were mates." It was Damon who uttered it, and I glanced at him as I began to be pulled out of my story-telling frenzy.
"H-how?" I asked.
"He has this rare ability-"
"To pick up the scent of mates. Oliver told me... perhaps you're right. Perhaps he wanted to take something precious from you as well." I uttered. It seemed Oliver was good for something.
"What I don't understand was why he let you go to college, and why he let you work for me?"
"I threatened to kill myself. It worked the first few times. I played the depression card too. I'm quite the actress. As for working for you... I lied. Lucien was under the impression that I worked in a small accounting firm and thanks to my good relationship skills, I got the other Vixens to cover for me. He would never have allowed me to work for a large corporation such as yours. He expected me to be financially dependent on him for most things. Also, I managed to get him to agree to my moving out, on the condition other Vixens stayed in the same building as I did. It gave him peace of mind. But anything more would have been trouble."
"So, why is it you fear him?"
I gulped and turned my eyes back onto the wall. "I thought I'd washed the blood clean from my hands the second I took Lucien's hand. But I hadn't. Instead, his hand was one which began to lead me into a blood pool. No, a scarlet ocean. It dragged me under pulling me deeper so that not only my hands, but my entire body, my entire soul was completely consumed by it. It choked and suffocated me, drowning my lungs in sin. You see Lucien was particularly good at two things, other than seduction of course. The first was revenge, and the second was games. He liked to play these games with the people who'd ever hurt me. He started with my social worker, then moved on to my first foster family, and slowly, he began destroying everyone who'd ever made a negative impact on my life. But eventually he began destroying those who made a positive impact as well. I could never get too close to anyone, otherwise, they were as good as dead. And eventually, as my demands grew more extreme, his behaviour did too, until he began to drill one chilling concept into me, ensuring that I'd never forget that I was his broken toy- everyone I ever loved would eventually leave me, all but one person, Lucien, and he'd make damn sure of it. Again, I was a captive, until you set me free the night you turned me. Unknowingly, you had reached your hand into the scarlet waters of the blood ocean Lucien and I were drowning in, and slowly, you began pulling me out, until I needed no one and nothing but myself. Until I was finally free. So, for that, Damon, I am eternally grateful. In a way, you broke the chains of my past which began killing me slowly."
By now I was practically shaking, and eventually, Damon had snaked his hands around me, clutching onto my body, as if afraid to let go.
"I'm so sorry, Jasmine. It seems Lucien was not the best of us, but the worst. I can't believe he'd turn out to be someone so twisted, so evil, so... Ambrose. And I'm sorry, I think, in a way, I am responsible. Lucien would have never taken you if you and I were not mates-"
"No, it's not your fault. Perhaps that was his initial reason, but after, I think he began to grow obsessed with the idea of having me by his side. You played no part in your brother's sick and evil games. I realise that now. Damon is not Lucien. Damon is not Ambrose. Damon is Damon, and Damon is mine." I whispered against his warm chest.
"Yes, I am yours, and I'll never let you forget it. We will get through this together. We'll end this game Lucien and Macy are playing."
He gently began rubbing comforting circles on my back and left a gentle kiss on the top of my head. "No more, you won't have to bear those scars alone anymore. I'll bear them with you, from your cigarette burns to those gashes across your heart, and slowly, I’ll wipe clean all of the scarlet staining your soul."
Was this what it felt like to be loved intimately? The feeling was so warm and subtle like the gentle rays of sun in spring. It was something I'd never felt before, and something I began to cherish as I clutched onto Damon harder taking in his scent. It made me hopeful, *he* made me hopeful, and for a second, I began to wonder whether the Moon Goddess truly did exist, otherwise why would I have been paired up so perfectly with him.
"Do you think we should read the note?" I whispered against him.
Damon pulled away from me and shook his head. "No way. Not today. I promised you a full day of ‘us’ time together, didn't I. And we won't let anyone, not even my asshole brother ruin it. So, the note, will be forgotten about until tomorrow. Right now, however-" he bit his lip nervously and hesitated.
"What is it?"
"W-well, I don't know how appropriate this would be, but you mentioned something about feeling empowered when you were a Vixen and loving this sound of pleasure and pain. So, I was wondering whether you could um..." Again, hesitation, and soon a scarlet blush flashed across his face.
"Spit it out Damon," I said, half amused, half annoyed.
"Well, would you dominate me?"
I tilted my head and asked, "Like this morning?"
He shook his head no, and finally a serious look appeared on his face, "Worse than this morning. I want you to be *my* Vixen. I want to feel what it feels like to experience pain and pleasure from you... I want you to finish what you started on the first night you came to this house."
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**Hi everyone, so this announcement is with regards to my next chapter. The sex scenes in this novel have been pretty decent and nothing too hectic. However, the next chapter will not be like this. There will be: BDSM, including choking, degredation (mild) and a very prominent Dominatrix/Submissive dynamic. If you do not feel comfortable reading this type of sexual scene then please feel free to skip the next chapter. It will be a pure sexual chapter so you will be missing no information. I do understand that BDSM and dom/sub dynamics are an aquired taste and so I have left this warning in consideration of this.**
On another note, this chapter was pretty intense. I cried a couple times writing it, and I hope you did too (because that means I did a good job). Jasmine is clearly 100% survivor, 500% badass and 1000% my role model.
Stay safe! Stay healthy! Sending you all my love!