Chapter Four

**Fernanda’s POV**

Alpha Draxler and his son Damian stormed into the room, instantly filling it with an oppressive atmosphere. I couldn't help but curse under my breath. This dreadful place had become a haunting nightmare for me, with its dark brown walls and a stained gray carpet that bore witness to my pain. It seemed like I was the only one who ever set foot in this room, enduring punishments that were meant only for me.

"Slave, your incompetence knows no bounds. You dare to create a mess at my breakfast table? Will you ever learn your place? I have no tolerance for lazy and useless slaves," Alpha Draxler bellowed, his voice dripping with disdain. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and I braced myself for the impending punishment.

"As your penalty, and perhaps to satisfy my sadistic desires, you will receive five lashes. In a rare act of mercy, I will allow you to choose the instrument of your torment. But make no mistake, Damian will be the one to administer your punishment. Enjoy the privilege, my son!" With those callous words, Alpha Draxler exited the room, leaving me alone with Damian, who wore an unsettling grin on his face.

"I used to pray for times like this," Damian declared with a glint of anticipation in his eyes, his excitement palpable.

My gaze met his, and I couldn't help but acknowledge his undeniable attractiveness. Standing at an imposing six feet tall, he possessed dark brown hair expertly styled in the latest fashion. Presently, his hair fell in a tousled manner, as if he had casually ruffled it to frame his face. However, there was something unsettling about his piercing eyes. Their intense blue hue seemed to possess an eerie transparency, making me wary and cautious.

"Hurry up, or I'll add extra lashes to your punishment," Damian urged impatiently, his eagerness pushing him forward.

Reluctantly, I approached the table where an array of torture instruments lay. I was well aware of the varying degrees of pain they could inflict. If I opted for the whip, it would merely leave welts and bruises. Deep down, I knew that by choosing it, Damian would select something else to intensify my suffering. Yet, true to my nature, I couldn't bring myself to select anything else. Resigned, I picked up the whip, and with a heavy heart, I walked back to Damian, offering it to him.

"Do you believe this will teach you a lesson? Frankly, I doubt it," he sneered, his sadistic intentions apparent. "However, we shall proceed with your punishment, with a little twist. I have been eagerly anticipating this moment, waiting for the opportunity to deliver my own form of retribution. Strip down to your underwear, including the removal of your bra."

His absurd demand left me dumbfounded, my gaze meeting his with disbelief. I have endured countless punishments, my body bearing the scars inflicted by the Alpha's preference for silver, an agonizing ordeal that often left permanent marks. Yet, until now, he had never insisted on such a degrading act. While I reluctantly complied by removing my shirt, I refused to shed any further clothing.

Trembling with fear, I stood before him, awaiting the impending torment. He drew closer, his presence looming over me as he leaned in, his words a chilling whisper in my ear. "Take it off, or I shall derive even greater pleasure from removing it myself."

Stepping back, he observed my struggle to obey his command. With trembling hands, I reached down and slid off my ill-fitting leggings, stepping out of them reluctantly. My bra, a mere remnant of fabric, was unclasped and allowed to fall to the ground. And so, I stood before Damian, adorned only in my underwear, bearing the visible scars that covered my body, serving as a perverse fascination for him.

He fixated on one particular scar, a long, jagged mark that extended across my back. "Did this scar cause you pain? Did it make you scream?" he taunted, relishing in his sadistic desires. "Oh, how I wish I had witnessed my father inflicting this upon you."

I stood in defiant silence, refusing to respond to his taunts. He eventually turned away, making his way back to the torture table. As he walked, he muttered under his breath, acknowledging that the whip might not deliver the desired lesson but insisting on using it nonetheless.

Relieved momentarily, I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. However, my relief was short-lived as he dipped the end of the whip into an unfamiliar liquid. Returning with a whipping cane in hand, he positioned himself behind me. The cane traced along the scars that marred my back, sending shivers down my spine. An unsettling feeling crept over me, and my body trembled with unease.

My fears were soon realized as he swiftly brought the cane down across my backside, leaving behind red welts that trailed down to the back of my thighs. I bit my lip, holding my breath as the strikes continued to rain down upon me. He paused momentarily, closing the distance between us.

He stood there for a moment, observing the welts on my backside. His hands then trailed over the marks, and a disturbing pleasure gleamed in his eyes. It was evident that he derived far more satisfaction from this act than his father ever did. While Alpha Draxler relished in my pain, Damian seemed to revel in both my suffering and the fear that emanated from me.

"Fernanda," he murmured, his voice filled with a twisted desire, "these scars on your body arouse me. They ignite an undeniable response within me, making it agonizingly difficult to control myself. Look at what you do to me."

I averted my gaze, refusing to acknowledge his presence. The pain he inflicted upon me was already unbearable, and I had no interest in witnessing his perverse actions. However, my resistance proved futile as he forced me to confront the sight before me. He had discarded his pants, revealing his nakedness, and was shamelessly pleasuring himself.

Reluctantly, my eyes were drawn to him, though not out of curiosity or desire. It was a moment of involuntary observation, as I had never seen a naked man before. But the repulsion I felt overshadowed any sense of curiosity or intrigue. Suddenly, a searing pain shot through my nipples, causing me to gasp in agony. I realized that while my attention was elsewhere, he had struck my sensitive nipples with the cane. They throbbed intensely, the sensation of fire coursing through them.

Feeling his firm grip on my arm, I sensed the impending danger as he guided me towards the back of the room where a couch stood. Panic surged within me, and I desperately fought against his hold, attempting to break free. His grasp tightened, leaving painful imprints on my skin, making escape futile. Helplessness engulfed me as he forcefully threw me onto the couch, leaving me vulnerable and defenseless.

Before I could even register what was happening, his weight descended upon me, his presence suffocating. Instinctively, I lashed out, aiming to protect myself by aiming a kick towards his vulnerable areas. However, my feeble attempt was swiftly thwarted as he skillfully blocked my strike, rendering it ineffective.

"You underestimate me," I retorted defiantly, refusing to succumb to his degrading words. "I am not defined by your derogatory labels. I am a person deserving of respect, and I will not allow you to degrade me."

Summoning every ounce of strength within me, I struggled against his overpowering grip. Despite my valiant efforts, his strength proved insurmountable, his weight pressing me down, and his hold on my hands rendered me powerless. Tears streamed down my face, a mix of fear, frustration, and helplessness, as I realized the inevitable fate that awaited me, a fate I couldn't prevent or escape.

I pleaded desperately, my voice trembling with fear, "Damian, please reconsider. This is not the path you want to take. There are consequences for rape, and it will only bring pain and regret."

He chuckled darkly, relishing in my vulnerability. "No one will find out," he sneered, his words dripping with malevolence. "You're nothing but my plaything, and I can do whatever I please with you. The world believes you're gone, and no one will ever suspect a thing."

His words struck me with confusion. Why would they think I was dead? It sparked a confusion in me and before I could grasp onto it fully, he seized me by my hair, wrenching me onto my feet, and violently tore apart my undergarments. With a forceful shove, he thrust me face-first onto the couch, further stripping away my dignity.

I felt a surge of panic as he approached me from behind, gripping my waist and lifting me off the ground. His claws dug into my lower back, causing searing pain to shoot through my body. In that moment, he took away the last remnants of my dignity.

With a brutal force, he forcefully entered me, causing unbearable pain and a rush of tears to stream down my face. The violation left me feeling broken and violated.

His sadistic satisfaction fueled his words, mocking and degrading me. "You enjoy this, don't you, you worthless slut? Just wait until Aiden joins me next time. We'll take pleasure in claiming you together."

My heart sank at the thought of enduring more torment at their hands, and a profound sense of hopelessness washed over me.

The ordeal ended abruptly, leaving me in a state of shock and disgust. My body was stained with blood and Sperm. Damian's cold gaze conveyed a chilling message: this nightmare would be repeated.

He grasped my arm forcefully, dragging me towards the center of the room where my punishment awaited. His threat echoed in my ears, a grim reminder that speaking out would have severe consequences.

At that moment, a profound sense of despair engulfed me. I felt utterly defeated and broken. All my dreams of finding a loving mate were shattered by this monstrous individual and the unspeakable violation he had inflicted upon me. It seemed as if my world had crumbled, leaving me with nothing but the desire to vanish, to escape this unbearable pain.

As he concluded my punishment, Damian made his way towards the door. Exhausted and in pain, I collapsed to the ground, unable to find the strength to move any further. His departing gaze conveyed a demand: I was to clean myself up and return downstairs to resume my duties in the pack house. It was his birthday celebration, which he shared with the beta siblings, and preparations needed to be made. Although Damian had turned 18 the day before, the beta siblings' birthday fell on Saturday, and it had become customary to combine their festivities.

Taking a few precious moments to compose myself and alleviate the lingering pain, I eventually mustered the resolve to get dressed and descend the stairs, ready to carry out my responsibilities.