Emir watched the shadow created by rising sun creep across his ceiling. He was fully awake but kept himself from rising as he knew it was not yet time to start his day. If he rose too early he would finish his early morning duties too quickly. If he finished his early morning duties too quickly then he would have extra time till his morning duties were ready to begin. If he had spare time he would be idle.

Idle slaves were punished.

Once the shadow reached about 5 centimeters from the crack in the ceiling above his bed Emir sat up and drank from the water cup next to his bed before relieving himself at the hole in the corner of his room. He checked the brown and gold striped robe he had finished cleaning the night before to make sure it was still spotless, from it's forearm length sleeves to the ankle length hem. As a household slave he must keep this robe clean and presentable as it belonged to the Master.

Destructive slaves were punished.

After putting on the robe Emir opened the door from his shared room and quietly left, making sure not to disturb the other slaves sleeping in the room. Their day had yet to start. Productive and competent slaves needed to as rested as possible. Preventing other slaves from performing their duties was something to be avoided.

Disruptive slaves were punished.

Turning to his right Emir headed towards the kitchen at a measured pace making sure to keep his head down the whole time. Fortunately the Master's Estate ran efficiently and Emir did not have to worry about running into others while looking down at his feet. Emir did not like making eye contact with others. Aside from his own personal reasons, eye contact was something to be done between equals. As a slave Emir was no one's equal. Emir avoided eye contact even with the other slaves for fear of it becoming a habit and making contact with someone he should not.

Disobedient slaves were punished.

Arriving exactly on time Emir grabbed the designated plate from the window as it was being set down. Emir made his way through the dining area towards administrators' quarters where those who worked for the Master resided. Emir was glad that he worked in here since the rugs were much nicer to stand on than the rough stone of the slave quarters or the hard, cold limestone of the Master's residence. As Emir walked through the halls he stopped to pick up a piece of crumpled up paper on the floor slipping it into one of the pockets sewn into the sleeves of his robe before continuing his delivery. Emir stopped outside of the door to the Steward's office and knocked 3 times.

“Come in,” answered the Steward. Emir opened the door took a step in and closed it behind himself in a smooth and practiced manner. Taking a quick glance Emir saw that the steward was already settled into his desk and looking through paperwork. “You had me waiting.” Emir involuntarily winced at this remark before setting down the plate of food and taking a step back from the desk.

Tardy slaves were punished.

Emir stood quietly with his hands clasped in front of his stomach as the Steward quietly ate while glancing through the reports on his desk. Forming several piles he handed one to Emir and said, “These are for you, I want you to go through them and make sure all the numbers are correct before we submit payment for the Master's property taxes.”

“Yes my lord,” replied Emir. He took the paperwork over to a small standing desk in the corner and began to diligently look through them. Several hours went by in silence with Emir receiving more reports for different locations every time he finished and handed them back to the Steward.

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The Steward looked up and asked “How long has it been since I've taken you in as my assistant?”

“It's been about three and a half years my lord,” answered Emir.

The Steward stood up and slowly walked over to the desk Emir was stationed at before pointedly looking at him and asking, “Three and a half years, eh?”

“Yes my lord.”

The Steward sighed and walked to the door grabbing his cane then moved to the center of the room. “Come. Here.”

Without hesitation Emir moved quickly to stand two paces in front of the Steward remaining silent and keeping his head down. He didn't have to look to know what was coming.

“Strip.” The command came and Emir complied. The clothes provided by the Master should not be dirtied even when a slave was being punished. Emir set the robe on the standing desk before returning to his position in front of the Steward, eyes on the floor in front of him.

Slaves who did not properly complete tasks were punished.

Emir's knees buckled after the first hit and he struggled to stand back up. He wasn't going to be able to move his left leg properly for several days. He was going to have to wake up earlier to make sure he was on time to pick up the food in the kitchen. If he wanted to be on time with the delivery he was going to have to move fas-The second hit made Emir double over. He wanted to throw up but he couldn't. He would have to clean it up. Blood was easy enough to get out of the crimson carpets. The smell of vomit was not. He'd have to spen-The third forced him to lie prone. He knew he was going to have a headache for the next few days after that. It wasn't going to be easy to concentrate on his paperwork but he'll manage some-The fourth hit came after that. This time a kick to the ribs as he trying to stand. Then the fifth and the sixth and the seventh. All to the same spot. Emir knew something was cracked. This was going to make it harder to make his deliveries. The steward walked back to his desk and Emir tried to stand up again only to have a plate smashed over his head. Now he was definitely going to have to clean blood out of the carpet. At least the steward ate all of his food already. This time Emir succeeded to stand up before a knee came to his groin. The steward stepped back and Emir vomited on the carpet. As Emir climbed back up to his knees his hair was grabbed by the steward and his head was thrown back. Emir saw that his right hand was now covered by a padded leather glove. “Bite down.” The Steward commanded and Emir complied. A slave looked better with all his teeth after all, and a slaves appearance represented his master.

“Three. And. A. Half. Fucking. Years. And. You. Still. Forget. To. Put. The. Decimals. In. The. Right. Place.” Each word was punctuated with a punch to Emir's face. The steward dropped the glove by Emir's bloodied and prone form then moved back to his desk. He gathered the rest of the paperwork and left saying, “I'll finish it myself, clean yourself up and finish your duties. I want this room cleaned from top to bottom before I come back tomorrow morning.”

'Shit,' Emir thought, 'this is going to be a long night. At least he hadn't lit his cigar yet.'

Author's Note:

Not sure how tables work so until (if) I learn how to set them up Author's Notes will be in red text. I wanted to make the punishment more descriptively brutal but I figured that scene showing up in the prologue would turn off enough people from the story as it is. The prologue is a little shorter than I plan on making my chapters, which will hopefully be at least 2000 words a pop. I'm writing this chapter by chapter so don't expect regular releases, though I do have the first arc outlined. I hope at least one person enjoyed this or is at least interested in where I go from here and comes back for the next chapter. I understand my note at the beginning of the synopsis sounded kind of rude but I also don't want people to complain 10 chapters in when the MC hasn't cultivated even once and isn't fingerbanging four world class beauties with one hand while slaying a god-like being with his super-powerful, unassuming looking katana in the other. All the while making not-so-witty one liners throughout the fight. Anyways have a nice day and leave a comment below if you have anything you want to say!