(15) Controlled

A knock came at the door. John burst through without waiting for me to answer and clutched at the doorframe as he stared at me. “You look gorgeous!” He said, my controller moved me over to him with a little skip and a twirl bringing my hand up to his face and rumpling his blonde locks. He grabbed my hand and kissed it with a smirk on his face. I saw his eyes flit for a moment to the woman in the corner of the room and wink at her before turning to me again. I was forced to twirl in a slow circle for the King, who was wearing blue outfit that looked very heavy with all the gold that encrusted it. He took my arm and led me out of the room and down the hallways. I was a prisoner in my own body, and I was too out of breath even to speak. Each breath was a painful affair as my body protested to being mangled in this way, I was afraid that my ribs were cracking under the extreme pressure. As we came through the 11 foot high, gilded double doors I was met with an incredible and terrifying sight. I was at the court, and it looked like a large party. The women were all moving around the room in large gowns making them look as colorful and bright as wrapped candies, the men twirled the women around or stood by the punch table drinking a green liquid that smoked faintly. As we descended the stairs the woman came up behind me and whispered in my ear with a venomous voice,

“If you don’t smile and appear to be madly in love with the King I will make you do things that you would shudder to even think about doing. And the next time you will be fitted with something that will give me ultimate control over you.”

I froze, the King John turned and smiled encouragingly at me, but I was paralyzed with fear. He leaned in close and pinched my backside sharply with a laugh. This unexpected action kick started my senses again.

I slapped him right across the face.

The sound echoed throughout the hall and hundreds of eyes looked up at me.

Dead silence.

I looked aghast as the King John’s eyes glowered at me. My body moved to the King, my arms wrapped around him, and my neck stretched up to his shocked face. I tried to resist, but I was unable to. The King looked at my controller and a fire lit in his eyes. His lips crushed against mine, hungry and violent. My hands wound their way through his hair and pulled him closer to myself. My mind was screaming. I wanted out. I was barely able to breath. His arms were tight as iron and kept me crushed up against him. The people in the hall burst into cheers and applause. When we pulled away, I thought I was going to pass out from the prolonged lack of oxygen. Black spots burst before my eyes and I gasped for air, my face flushed with red blood. The King lifted his hand in the air and said, a little breathless himself,

“My fiancé is a little too anxious for the honeymoon.” Laughter rippled through the room. “We shall have to content ourselves with a kiss and a night of drinking and dancing!” The crowd cheered and an upbeat song played throughout the room.  The King pulled me on the dance floor and began to twirl me through a series of complicated steps including a lot of dips and lifts of my body into the air. I kept a smile on my face to avoid any other kisses, but I wondered what would happen if my smile faltered a little. I was too scared to try. I felt dead inside. When I was given a break from dancing to eat some food I saw that my controller was being distracted by a strapping man. I took my chance, grabbed a knife and turned to plunge it into the heart of John, but I was halted. The knife was turned and suddenly pointed at my chest by my own hand. The King John looked at me and at the other woman. He laughed with a slightly nervous laugh and announced,

“My bride to be feels that she would rather die than remain unmarried to me another moment. How do you all feel about having the wedding right now?”