No Dignity Left
1168 Words
The scent of lavender and rose oil clung to the steam that filled Liora’s bath chamber, curling through the marble-tiled room like a sweet, suffocating trap. I knelt on the floor, scrubbing the edge of her soaking tub with a stiff-bristled brush until my fingers felt like splinters—bleeding and raw.
I didn’t look up. I knew better.
She was lounging in the water behind me, humming softly, trailing her fingers through the scented water like a bored goddess.
A cruel, bored goddess.
“You missed a spot,” she said lazily, kicking a splash of water over the edge.
I flinched as it hit my arm, soaking the thin linen of my sleeve.
“Yes, Lady Liora,” I murmured, scrubbing harder.
The bath chamber, like everything else she owned, was extravagantly decorated: gold-accented tiles, silk towels, carved mirrors on every wall. The kind of beauty that mocked people like me. My reflection barely belonged here.
My face was pale and drawn, dark circles shadowing my eyes, my chestnut brown hair tied back in a loose knot. I was no longer the girl Damon had once looked at with curiosity.
Now, I was her property.
“My boots,” Liora said suddenly, standing and stepping out of the bath without shame. She barely dried off before sliding her legs into a fresh silk robe and strutting to the chaise lounge, where her polished black boots waited.
She sat, crossing her legs slowly.
“You may clean them. With your tongue.”
I froze, kneeling on the cold tile, brush still in hand.
Surely, she couldn’t mean—
“Now.”
I hesitated for a breath too long.
She leaned forward, voice like broken glass. “Did you forget your place, little omega? You serve me now. You scrub my floors. You fetch my bath salts. And you will lick the dirt from my boots like the grateful nothing that you are.”
My stomach churned.
"what came over you Liora" I asked, hoping for some mercy. "we used to be best friends. please don't do this to me bestie". I stretched the word "bestie" hoping she could remember our time as friends.
Liora scoffed mockingly, amidst fingering my face. before landing a slap across it. " CLEAN IT MAID WITH YOUR TONGUE" she ordered.
Slowly, I crawled over, biting down a scream as the stone bit into my knees. The boots gleamed—recently polished. There was no dirt. This was about power, not cleanliness.
I closed my eyes and leaned in.
My tongue touched the smooth leather.
Shame burned through me.
Behind me, Liora laughed. “Look at you. The rejected mate. Reduced to licking boots like a dog in heat.”
I pulled back, trembling, and turned my face to the floor.
“You haven’t danced for me today,” she added casually, reaching for a brush to comb through her damp hair. “You’re supposed to keep your lady entertained.”
I blinked. “Lady Liora, please—”
“Dance.”
She said it like a spell.
I rose shakily, barely able to meet her gaze. I didn’t know how to move. My body felt like it belonged to someone else—disconnected, hollow. But I began to sway anyway, mimicking the slow, childish dances we were once taught as children during celebration rehearsals.
My arms moved. My hips followed.
Each motion stole a piece of me.
She clapped softly, mocking. “You look like a broken wind-up toy. Pathetic. No wonder Damon couldn’t stand you." turn around” she ordered.
I stopped and turned round, facing her with my back.
Something inside me cracked.
And then—
Smack.
Pain bloomed across my butt as Liora slapped me, her palm landing hard and sharp.
I gasped, stumbling forward, hands flying to cover myself.
“L-Liora!” I turned, voice shaking. “Please—don’t touch me like that. You’ve taken everything, but let me keep at least… at least a sliver of my dignity.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Dignity? After licking my boots and dancing like a tavern girl? Darling, if you had any left, I’d have ripped it from you already.”
She stood, walking in slow, taunting steps toward me.
“And since you’re so concerned about your feminine dignity…” Her smile widened. “You’ll be attending the Harvest Ball this evening.”
My heart dropped. “The… the ball?”
“As a server,” she purred. “One of the exclusive ones. You’ll wear a short skirt, serve wine, and smile for every male in attendance. If they want to be entertained, you’ll entertain them. Do you understand?”
My breath left my lungs.
No.
No, no, no.
Those kinds of servers were chosen for one reason. Not because they were strong. Not because they were smart. But because they were pretty, and low-ranked, and disposable. Omegas like me—servants the warriors could paw at between drinks and laughter.
I dropped to my knees, hands clasped.
“Please,” I whispered. “Liora, don’t make me do that. You know what they’ll do—what they expect. I’ll be touched. Groped. Worse.”
“That’s the point,” she said sweetly. “You’ll finally be useful" she paused, her face suddenly turning cold.
"And more importantly, I will finally get to crush that atom of dignity you brag of”
Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. My pride collapsed under the weight of fear.
“I’ll do anything else. Please.” My voice broke. “I’ll clean the kennels. I’ll scrub the latrines for a month. Just don’t make me go to the ball.”
She yawned and inspected her nails.
I knelt lower. “I’ll dance. I’ll dance for you now. See? I’ll—”
I stood and began moving again—my limbs trembling, eyes wide with desperation. I twirled. I smiled, even as sobs caught in my throat. I moved like a puppet strung with humiliation, trying to make her laugh.
And she did.
Liora laughed and clapped like I was the funniest thing she’d seen in days.
When I collapsed again to my knees, breath hitching, she leaned down and whispered in my ear:
“You’ll go to the ball, Arielle. You’ll smile and bow and serve every drink they ask for. And if a hand wanders beneath your skirt, you’ll thank them for the attention. You wanted dignity? You lost it the day Damon rejected you.”
She stood tall and turned toward the door.
“Be ready by dusk. And don’t forget to powder your face.”
When she left, I stayed crumpled on the
floor, shaking.
I don’t know how long I stayed there. Minutes. Hours.
All I knew was that for the first time since the rejection ceremony, I wasn’t just heartbroken.
I was afraid.
Because tonight, they wouldn’t ignore me.
They would see me.
And I didn’t know if I’d survive it
- Writer
