* A/N: Things are rough for Alice atm and they will get worse before they get better. Trigger warning, this chapter has sexual assault/rape contained within.

    Sore from Everett's first "training" I nonetheless forced myself to wake the next morning. I could not afford to appear weak. Though I myself was unused to physical punishment and suffered greatly with just twenty lashes, many other humans might have been dealt more in the same circumstances. I hoped this was a sign that Dulane was still willing to protect me from too much damage.

     I ignored the protests of my stiff arms and back as I rose from my mattress. I gritted my teeth against the pain as I donned my dress, the fabric rubbing against the fresh welts on my skin in spite of the bandages. Around me, no one seemed to take notice of my agonized expression and not one offer to help. I wasn't entirely surprised. My position of power in the kitchens had always made others wary of me, but yesterday had clearly marked me as one "out of favor" with our Master. It was likely that all were afraid that in showing me any sympathy they might be reported for interfering with my punishment.

    While the others went off to their assignments I made my way to the infirmary barracks as I'd been instructed. There, a surly sibla woman ordered me to strip the top half of my dress so she could examine my injuries. After a cursory glance at the marks on my back, she pronounced me healed well enough to return to my tasks, rebandaging the welts and ordering me to report at the end of the week for a final inspection.

     Feeling her fingers on the raw and bruised lash marks I did my best to remain still and compliant, biting my inner lip to stop from wincing too noticeably. I wanted nothing more than to return to work and prove my dedication was unquestionable and the punishment had been more than enough to chasten me. Still, with the new bandages wrapped tight across my back and my clothing once again pressing, I could feel each of the strikes clearly, every breath forcing my ribs to expand and my back to protest the skin stretching the bruises taut.

    I made my way to the main house and the kitchen in a trance, hoping that focusing on my work would help to escape the pain and distract from my fears of further punishment. But when I went to retrieve my apron from the wall, it was not there. Still too drained from the previous day's torture I didn't know what to make of this strange discovery. I was certain I had hung my apron where I always did the day before. My eyes scanned the room, looking for the lost clothing but when I looked to my workspace, I was even more surprised to see it already occupied by Hattie.

    A competent cook, Hattie had often served as my second and I'd thought of her as a friend, but as I stared at her now, confusion overwhelming my already taxed mind, a nasty smile peeled to life on the woman's face. I had only taken one step in her direction before a sharp voice called out, grabbing my attention.

    "Where do you think you are going?"

    I turned to see the kitchen overseer glaring at me but I still could not understand my surroundings nor her harsh tone.

    "I am going to my station, Ma'am," I answered naively.

    The sibla woman's gaze remained frigid.

    "Your station has changed," she said. "Did you not understand that yesterday? Perhaps Mr. Everett did not embed that lesson into you clearly enough."

    The scars on my back burned all the more at her words, the threat clear.

    "It has become quite apparent to all on this estate that you forgot your true station long ago and until you have re-learned your place, your tasks will be limited to those which befit your role here."

    I stared at the woman entirely speechless. Looking along the line I could see that all of the available stations had already been filled. Rin must have taken advantage of my trip to the infirmary to ensure all had arrived before myself. The few human eyes that watched me in my interaction with the new kitchen overseer had no sympathy whatsoever. Many in fact looked almost pleased to see me dressed down so publicly. I felt a new mix of anger and frustration flush through my body.

    "There, human," Madam said, pointing a finger to a crate of dead chickens, fully feathered. "They were dropped off this morning and need cleaning and dressing. Be certain I do not find a single feather on any of the carcasses when you are through or you will be sorry."

    I looked to the chickens. There were at least five of them. This was not work I had much skill with. I was used to meat that had been fully dressed. My stomach sunk.

    "I will not have you dirtying our kitchen either," Madam continued as worries of my ability to complete the assignment mounted in my head. "You will take this work outside. I have left a pot for you around back. Fill it and light a fire for scalding. I expect the birds in my kitchen by midday."

    I nodded though the assignment seemed nearly impossible if she wished me to complete all the work on my own.

    "When you have finished that, you will take the slop buckets we've filled to the pigs and then return immediately to clean the kitchen before dinner preparations."

    She was granting me every demeaning and unpleasant task she could think of and giving me a schedule I was certain to fail at meeting. I didn't dare protest.

    "Yes, Ma'am," I answered, the obedient slave's answer. Any resistance of my new position could only serve to make things worse.

    As I walked to the crate of dead birds the aches in my body felt all the more pronounced. My injuries screamed as the fabric of my dress chafed against them, pressed tight when I lifted the crate to carry it up the steps from the kitchen, my sore arms barely managing the strength to stay above my waist let alone carry such a heavy load.

    The clothing I wore was not warm enough for work outdoors and the early morning chill instantly penetrated any protection they might have offered the moment I stepped outside. Having expected to be in the kitchen all day I'd only donned only a sweater to protect myself from the elements that morning. Dragging buckets of water for scalding and plucking bird feathers for hours I was sure to be freezing. I knew Madam Rin wouldn't particularly care and I didn't have time to return to the dorms in search of something warmer.

    Heaving the crate onto the ground I saw the large scalding pot Madam had left for me. There was a pile of wood beside it, a bucket, a rather dull looking knife, and a small lighter. I breathed a sigh of relief to find the lighter at least half filled with fuel. It sparked as soon as my thumb skidded across the wheel. I let the flame go out quickly, not wishing to waste the precious fluid inside. There'd been rain the past few days and though the sun shone now, the wood was wet. Getting a fire started would be a difficult task.

    My mother had indeed educated me well in all domestic skills of course and though Lexia never inflicted too much hard labor upon us, Mama was insistent that I learn even the most menial of tasks. Lighting a fire was a skill I'd been taught quite young. The hearth in the dorm we shared with the others was the only source of warmth within the thin walls. Mama had made certain I would never be at the mercy of other's abilities or lack thereof. She'd trained me to be self-sufficient. Still, I had only ever completed the task with proper materials, dry wood, proper kindling. Madam Rin was setting me up to fail but I was determined to do my best.

    After some searching, I managed to find suitable wood and form the pyramid shape I'd been taught to make. My fingers had nearly lost feeling by the time I accomplished it, the cold taking its toll on my extremities. I tried blowing on my hands for warmth as I searched for kindling. It took so many tries to get the fire lit that I feared I would run out of fuel before I found any success but luck was on my side. After nearly an hour of futile efforts, I managed to start a fire that remained burning steadily. Of course next, I would have to see to the water.

    Arranging the pot over the flame I proceeded to carry bucket after heavy bucket of water to the waiting fire. The metal of the water pump was so cold that it burned my already frozen skin. I took the kerchief from my head and let my hair fall loose, wrapping the fabric around my hands to protect them. Of course it couldn't keep them, or my skirts, from the water that managed to slosh out onto me in my efforts. Now damp and freezing, I could feel my body shaking involuntarily. Still I kept working. The last thing I needed was to be found wanting in completing Madam's tasks.

    Once the water was finally warming I stood by the fire a moment in attempts to revitalize my frozen limbs before going to the chickens. I'd help scald and pluck birds before but in the past, another had prepared the water and it had been some time since I'd been forced to do such unpleasant work. I was kitchen head after all, not some lowly barn slave. Still, I knew the basics. Mama had complained loudly when the fowl we received was improperly prepared. If the water was too hot the skin would come off along with the feathers. If the water was too cold the process of plucking would be that much more difficult.

     Dipping my finger in the water I found it just bearable to hold there for a second before I felt the burning sensation set in and quickly pull back. The proper temperature for scalding. Of course I had no idea how to properly regulate the temperature of the fire to keep the water consistent and I'd been left no thermometer to help.

    I dipped the first dead bird, trying to fully submerge the chicken without allowing the hot water to splash out on my skin. It was a somewhat futile effort. By the time I had finished dunking the fowl I was wet and shaking all the more. I sat by the fire trying to manually pluck the carcasses as best I could with my uneven scald and frozen fingers.

    I was all too aware of the passing time. I'd done my best to work quickly but it was inevitable that I was running behind. Moreover the chickens I'd managed to get through looked pathetically spotty, all still with feathers I had failed to extract. I still had to dress them, a task that would take a steady hand and concentration, both of which I feared I no longer possessed. By now my fingers were white along the tips and my teeth were chattering. making it difficult to think of anything else

    "Alice!"

    The sound of my name made me jump. Was I already so behind that one might come looking for me? I felt a fresh shiver travel through my body as I caught sight of Madam herself approaching, her lips in a clear frown of disapproval.

    "What is taking you so long?" she asked. I saw her eyes go to the partially plucked chickens, my pathetic, wet, form. Her frown only increased.

    "This is entirely unacceptable," she said critically. You will have to do better if you wish to continue working in my kitchen. Honestly, I don't know what your last overseer saw in you. They did say she was going senile towards the end."

    I felt my cheeks flush with rage. To hear her so unfairly criticize. To hear her insult Lexia, it was all too much. Luckily I managed to hold my tongue. Madam was dangerous. If she were to banish me from the kitchens there was no telling what hard labor I might be assigned on the estate.

    "Forgive me, Ma'am," I answered, hoping my voice sounded sufficiently contrite. Unfortunately, Madam's displeasure was not appeased.

    "Leave this mess," she said sharply in response, ignoring my plea for forgiveness. "Go back to the dorms and clean yourself then come back to the kitchen. We are short handed and I'd expected you would be there to help by now."

    Of course her statement was ridiculous. She'd given me more work than I could possibly have hoped to have already accomplished, even if I had been speedy and skilled at the task.

    "Take the slop buckets on the way," Madam said as I turned to go. "Let us hope you can do that much at least."

    "Yes, Ma'am," I answered. I had no doubt that my failures had already earned me some form of punishment, but perhaps if I could at least get part of my task completed to her satisfaction I might avoid anything worse than a light beating.

    Of course, even Madam's seemingly "simple" chore proved to be harder than I'd hoped. Going back to the house I found the slop buckets she'd filled. Four of them. Far too much to carry in one trip. As I picked up the first two, one in each hand. My frozen fingers protested in pain at the weighty burden and though my nose was stuffed from the cold, I couldn't avoid the unpleasantness of rotten food smells emanating from the buckets in either hand.

    I went as fast as I could without spilling the contents of my pails, doing my best to rest only when the numbness in my fingers truly became intolerable, forcing me to stop and rub life into them again before continuing. I fought against the hoard of pigs that attacked me when I entered the pen, nearly knocking me to the ground as I was jostled between eager snouts. With the pigs happily munching on their meal, I set off at a run back to the main house to seek the other buckets I'd left behind. No one paid any attention to me, though I knew I must look a mess by now, covered in slops, my clothes still damp. I hoped it was a promising sign and that Rin was back in the kitchen, too busy to worry about how long I must be taking.

    Once the slops were delivered I went to the dorms to grab fresh clothing before heading for the bathhouse, determined to clean myself and go back to the kitchens immediately. I had to maintain my place there whatever the costs. I had to gain the love of the new kitchen mistress, however impossible.

    The water in the shower was warmer than usual. There were no others using the facilities in the middle of the day so I was lucky. Though the heat burned my frozen limbs, I was glad to feel sensation coming back to them. The scars on my back were, unfortunately, less forgiving, forcing me to take longer than I wanted in attempts to clean my body without allowing the water to fall directly upon the bandages, the pressure too painful as it battered against the wounds just under the infirmary wrappings.

    Though there was nothing to do for my wet hair I quickly brushed and braided it in two long plaits to keep as much moisture from my body as possible in the cold air outside. I put on a fresh dress and stockings and quickly surveyed myself in the cracked mirror hanging on the wall hoping that the extra moment of inspection would be worth it when my appearance and cleanliness met with Madam's approval. I'd barely left the slave quarters when I saw Everett's unmistakable form in front of me, blocking my way back to the house.

    For a moment I continued forward, hoping that it was a mere coincidence that we'd crossed paths, but when I saw he did not move, my heart began beating just a bit faster. He was waiting for me. I was walking right towards my enemy. But what else could I do! I could hardly avoid him.

    "Alice," he called out as I drew nearer, shattering any hope I had that our meeting was nothing more than chance. "Could you move any slower, girl?"

    His tone set my entire being on edge. Why should he be looking for me? Had he not done enough? The words of his threat echoed in my ears. He'd been clear my "punishment" was not over yet. Fighting every protest of my rational mind, I increased my pace to stand before him. Though I kept my head down I could feel the icy heat of his gaze ringing down upon me.

    "Head up," he ordered, and I obeyed, willing myself to not pull away when he took hold of my chin a moment later and forced my gaze.

    "Madam Rin is not pleased with you, Alice," he said, a disgusting smile spread across his face. "But do not fear, I informed her your training had only just begun. Today I thought we might have a private lesson."

    I choked back a wretching feeling traveling up my throat at his words. The excitement I saw in his eyes. I had no time to think of any response before I felt the sibla man take tight hold of my arm as he lead me away from the main house.

    "Master Everett," I tried, struggling to keep up with him. "I was meant to help Madam in the kitchen. She told me I couldn't dally." Everett didn't stop moving forward.

    "I am your keeper now, girl," he answered. "You will do what I say."

    I couldn't protest. With Lexia gone Everett was only second to Dulane himself. But it was then I saw where he was leading me... The breeding sheds. It was the most isolated part of the estate. A place where no one would hear me scream. And yet there was nothing I could do to stop our progress.

    In my mind I uttered prayer after prayer for rescue. I begged the soul of my mother to save me. I pleaded with the God above. Mama had always assured me that there was a deity watching over us. One that might hear the cries of those truly desperate. I couldn't imagine a situation more desperate than this. But if there was any spirit watching over me, they did not heed my call. It seemed as if it was only moments before I stood with Everett before the first of the small cabins.

    "In ya go," Everett said, throwing me forward with such force that I fell to my knees. I heard him shut the door behind us.

    "Please," I begged, staring up at him from the ground, tears streaming down my cheeks unbidden, terror making my voice sound weak and whiney. "I will do anything to redeem myself to you and my Master. I want only to serve. I am a lowly animal worthy of nothing but I beg you for mercy."

    "I'm glad to hear you are so willing to please," he answered with a feral gaze. "That is indeed what I have in mind. You see, Alice, the place of a slave is beneath her superiors. That is your next lesson. Cedrick kept your mother all to himself, but you, you are to be my personal project."

    I felt the horror of his words sinking into my consciousness as he uttered his next command.

    "Remove your clothes."

    My mind resisted. I didn't want to obey. I couldn't do as he asked. I had to escape. The moment I regained my feet, I lunged instinctively for the door.

    It was no use. Before I could even take two steps, I felt Everett's large hand against my chest, throwing me backwards onto the bed behind me. My back screamed in agony as the full force of my weight landed upon the fresh wounds.

    "Ah, ah, ah," he chided. "I thought you wished to serve, Alice? You will obey without complaint if you ever hope to regain your place on this estate." I felt he hands upon me as he turned me on my side. I cringed at the sound of ripping fabric as he pulled the zipper on my dress too roughly before tearing it from my shoulder to expose my chest. My body turned rigid as he reached for me, pawing at my breasts.

    My mind raced in denial. This couldn't be happening. I was a human. He was a sibla. This was unnatural. Impossible. But there he was, this terrifyingly large sibla man looming over my partially covered form, straddling my body as he turned me on my back again, forcing my legs open with his knee, making his intention all too clear.

    Instinct took over, overriding all conscious thought that knew I should not fight him. That I should do what I was told without complaint. I kicked and screamed as he managed to pull down my stockings and push up my skirts, holding a hand over my mouth to stop my complaints, and making it hard to breathe.

    My eyes opened wide in horror as he unbuckled his belt and again I struggled to get away, but it was no use. He was so much bigger than I. My injuries from the previous day, the aches and pains from the morning all made my attempts futile. I choked out sobbing gasps of pain as he laid his full sibla weight upon me.

    I was helpless to stop the attack. Helpless to even send my mind from my body as I had so many times in those sheds, the pain of my previous injuries keeping me firmly grounded in the room. An impossible agony and shame coursed through my body as he violated me, tears streaming down my cheeks. I was nothing. I was filth, just as Everett had said. Now I had been defiled beyond redemption.

    When he was finished, the overseer re-buttoned his pants and adjusted his coat as I lay there in shock, unable to fully process the fate that had befallen me.

    "You have work in the kitchen, Alice," he said. "After you clean up this mess, see to it you are there as quickly as possible. Remember that until you correct your behavior fully you will remain my personal charge and any offense will be punished."

    He didn't wait for me to reply, disappearing out the door, leaving my broken form on the bed like some discarded object.

    I pushed myself up and grabbed at my dress, trying to replace it on my body as best I could. My hand shook as I reached between my legs and felt something wet and sticky. Looking down I could see the red trail between my thighs and smell the unmistakable metallic scent of blood.

    I forced myself from the bed, doing my best to clean myself with the sheets, already stained with my pain. I bundled the cloth in my arms, wishing I could burn the evidence of what had just happened but instead placed them in the hamper by the door and replaced them with the clean sheets that lay in wait on the room's solitary shelf.

    My body cried out in pain as I went about my task, every injury demanding my attention, but I was beyond feeling.

Not daring to take the time to return to the dorms, I went to the kitchen like a zombie, a shell continuing without the presence of a mind to commend it. No one noticed my entrance save Madam, who chided me for being late and looking so "unkempt" before barking some order I only barely understood through my fog. I did as I was told. When I was finally released from work I abandoned the food that was offered and went instead to the showers.

    There was not much hot water left by the time I arrived but I made do with what little rained down upon me before turning to ice. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I scrubbed every inch of my body with the harsh soap we were given, letting the burning sensation work in place of the scalding liquid I craved to clean my body of Everett's scent.