I was right, I might have been a bit late to admit it. It hadn't even been an hour since the meeting endeda and I was already tied to the chair with my hands behind me like a criminal waiting for his sentence. We were on my father's private golf field where no one would dare to disturb his teachings. My father stood at the starting point holding a golf stick barely paying me any attention. I should have known a punishment wad inevitable since I had slacked lately. My father's teaching were more of pain giving that an actual teaching. Minutes of establishing pain and spewing bullshit on my incompetency.
The best part was that, his punishment is never predictable.
He always came up with the most unlikely ways to inflict pain, to feel a sense of superiority over his victims and would always talk like it. He made it more of a sport for his pleasure and made sure I was left in pain. The level of pain depends on how much he was displeased with me and as of now I would say not much, my father doesn't care about how little the "crime" was, it was all equal there would always be pain. The last one of his teachings had left me invalid for a week. It had been exactly two weeks after I came back and that was the worst of it all. There had been few times when he would visit me when I was abroad to look over my training and the times he considered me weak, he gave me a teaching or two. Guess he couIdn't show the full extent of his artistic teachings since I was far away from home in a place where it was considered as abuse. The first time he showed me his full potential, I was suspended in the air with a tank full of crabs beneath me, he had me beaten with a rod and if I moved too much, the rope would come lose and I would fall in the tank. It was a teaching he taught himself, not like he would make his only heir look weak in the eyes of others. My weakness was for his eyes alone. He made sure his lessons sticks with me, and the pain would be the best reminder especially when you wouldn't be medicated despite the pain. His resounding order of "we shall now begin" brought me out of my thought. The bright white lights turned on in full force. The ball was now in it's...,.. and as he raised the golf stick ready to strike, I couldn't help the feeling of dread that sat heavy in my chest. He sure did come up with cruel methods, what a special talent.
A soft grunt escaped my lips as the ball hit me right in my guts. My stomach churned from the impact and bile rose up my throat but I quickly swallowed it down not to keep my pride but because I knew my father would be even more annoyed with me if I let it out deeming me weak and less of a man. His heir wouldn't be caught dead doing something meant for the weak even if it was only natural. I raised my head to look right at him and his lips broke into a smile, most likely happy his heir could put up a fight. My defiance broke down after seeing that smile, nothing good comes out of it. It always left me guessing what he planned next.And I was proved right.
That was for lesson number one "Act fast, never give them the chance to suspect your next move".
Lesson number two, he said before positioning another ball and striking it again this time hitting me square in the chest and I couldn't help but cough out the bile that unceremoniously wanted out. His voice resounding as he finished " never let them know your next move". I slightly cringed at the bitter taste of the liquid trying to catch my breath. By the time I rose up my head, my father had most likely transported as he was now standing next to me, his shoes glinting as the bright lights on the open field shone on it.
His hand shot out to grab my head making me squint as my eyes made contact with the lights. Before I could register what was happening, a fist collided with my face and I felt this piercing pain on my jaw. As he prepared to hit me the second time, my hands shot out to stop him. Anger bubbled up my chest and I couldn't care less if he was annoyed with the abrupt stop to his teachings. I shot a glare at him and was more than surprised to see the pleased look on his face.
He smiled at me rather fondly as he said, lesson number three "Let your anger be your biggest advantage". He then turned around and walked away. Leaving me to fend for myself.
I then took a deep breath, the suffocating air that was once around me gone with my father. I had been trying to loose the ropes tied to my hands since he was preparing for the first it. The fact that it was tied behind my back made it easy for discretion but not for convenience. I was almost done when he took the first swig at my face and I was just done being discrete. Fuck it.
But to be fair, the pain and anger was what brought me back. I glanced down at my hands, marks And the rope evident on my wrist which would most likely bruise. I wouldn't be allowed to fix them up snyways. Take the pain like a man my dad would say. I stood up cracking my knuckles after I had successfully loosen the knots.
Guess it wasn't all for nothing anyways. Three new lessons learnt. I left the golf field with refound strength and anger. I needed to act and to do it fast. No distractions and I was determined to do that.