A Murder - A Maker Pt. 03

"Very good," she softly said. "Now I want you to listen to me, pet. I am going to hurt you. No, set that fear aside. I am not punishing you, and you have not done anything wrong. I am going to hurt you because I want to. As for what you want, do you not wish to please me?"

"Yes. Of course I do." I stared up at her eyes, my lips remaining parted after voicing that breathless answer. Half-formed images swirled in my mind, glimpses of me crying out as I writhed beneath her touch. The avarice and thrill already in her eyes made me shiver. She leaned forward and lightly kissed my forehead. When she rose she drew me with her, then beckoned me along and continued through the room. We passed through a series of chambers, the last of which was smaller than the others and featured padded walls. She ordered me to the center of the room and took each of my arms, attaching them to chains that stretched to the ceiling, pulling them apart and up as all slack was removed from the heavy lines. As she nudged my legs apart my wrists tugged harder against the cuffs that held them, and I gave each a little shake before looking down to watch as she locked a wide metal bar between my ankles, held in place by flexible straps.

Vivian straightened, fingertips gliding from my knee over my thigh, then my side, and finally crossing over one breast to rise and caress my cheek. "There," she said. "I could do anything to you now, pet. What do you feel?"

"Frightened," I answered. I don't think I could lie to her even if I tried, and I had no desire to. "Excited. Embarrassed. I... There's this thrill... no. Joy, to be doing what you want." I swallowed, sudden fear mounting at my own words. "I will please you, won't I?"

She leaned in at my worries, her mouth claiming mine with such a jolt it might have been electric. The hand at my cheek slid around to bury in my hair, squeezing a fist of the locks possessively as she leaned into my bared skin, tongue finding mine to drag sensuously against it. It was all I could do to swallow back a wanton groan when she broke the kiss, her sharp eyes opening to fix on mine. "Of course you will, pet," she said. "Of that I have no doubt." She released me and stepped past, disappearing from my vision.

Fear and tremulous excitement coursed through me as I waited. My nipples were hard and goosebumps had broken out over my skin. I churned internally even as I stood stock still, trying to keep my breathing steady.

Something thin hit just above my right shoulder blade, wrapping around the curve of my back to catch my armpit even as it stretched diagonally down my back, then it was gone. I barely had time to register the touch before a searing wave of fire blossomed across my skin as the whip dropped away. I let out a cry of pain before snapping my jaw shut, the sound from surprise as much as pain. That time, anyway.

She whipped me mercilessly, the cracking sound of leather on skin soon overshadowed by the raw screams torn from my lip with each new stripe upon me, made only worse where it intersected with marks already on my back. The whip was long and frequently snaked around to catch my ribs, or the side of my breast, or my hips, and agony became nearly all I knew. Within the first five blows I gave up trying to stifle my pain, and after ten lost count. Chains rattled as I thrashed and writhed, unable to escape and tortured further with each snap of the whip.

My lust grew with the fiery whips and the suffusing throb of earlier blows. I could feel Vivian's thrill with each spasm of my body and her satisfaction filled me, making each caress of the whip fill my mind with longing. If I hadn't been screaming from the pain, I knew I would be begging for her to take me. When finally she did abate I was too exhausted to do anything at all, hanging limply from my wrists, knees bent and unable to support me. I could feel tears running down my cheeks and, thicker and hotter, blood oozing from a few particularly deep cuts on my back.

"You're dripping wet." When I heard Vivian's voice, filled with awe and hunger and a nearly childish glee, I realized she was standing before me. Whimpering at the exertion, I pulled on the chains and straightened my legs, bringing myself as upright as I could manage and fixing my eyes on her face. I didn't realize I was panting until I tried to speak, and it was a moment before I found the breath to say,

"Please, please. I'm burning up. Please finish me, I can't take it!"

I saw the cruel glitter in her eyes and nearly gave up, the scream of deprivation already swelling my chest before she reached forward to catch the side of my face and angle my head up further. "Do not fear, empath," she said, voice full of smug condescension. "I shall not leave you unfulfilled tonight." Her hand drifted lower, palm slickening from my arousal before it ground heavily against my sex, provoking a spasm of another sort, my eyes widening and my breath catching. The touch was divine; my hunger tripled at the feel of her between my legs, thighs clenching with a futile effort to close and trap her there forever, but the metal bar held me fast.

She pulled away and I let out a loud whimper of distress, hands wrapping around the chains to the ceiling and squeezing desperately as unfulfilled lust wracked my body. I knew it delighted her to see me so broken and needy, and in the moment I could be nothing else.

She continued walking away, taking three or four more steps before rounding and snapping the whip forward. It caught me across the belly, causing me to buck wildly and shout at the sudden explosion of pain over the unprepared skin. She started whipping me again, covering my front in aching stripes, and this time I could see the raw satisfaction she drew from each scream I gave in answer. Even as the pain was overwhelming my lust built to the point of brimming, body thrumming with need. Suddenly she threw the whip aside and advanced on me, a hand lowering to my groin and three fingers spearing into me without the least preparation, though my drenched flesh parted easily to her. The tight fit caused me to groan and buck involuntarily, head lolling back before she caught it in her other hand, bringing my gaze to hers. Her fingers forced their way deeper then began to thrust in slow, powerful movements and I cried out, limbs convulsing but unable to move me. Held close to Vivian, skin burning, I came hard on her hand and let out a tortured scream.

It was enough to black out. The next thing I knew I was still in the restraints, hanging limp from my wrists, aching pain grinding in my shoulder joints. Damp sweat had broken out over my skin during Vivian's use of me, and now it chilled me to the point of constant shuddering. The deeper lashes burned from the salt, and my chest hurt where my chin started digging into it once my awareness had faltered. I feebly straightened and shook my head, groaning at the stiffness that had seeped into my joints.

The room was empty, but I wasn't left to wait long. A few minutes after I began to move again the door behind me whispered open, though I couldn't manage a glimpse at the person who entered. Vivian stepped in front of me a moment later, gaze appraising and still terribly smug. "That was selfish, do you not think?" she asked, caressing my cheek. My cheeks flared with color and I lowered my gaze, the chains connected to each wrist rattling as I shivered.

"I'm sorry," I said, turning my head enough to follow her hand as it moved, preserving the contact. It felt nice. "There was so much." I meant to say more but her thumb slipped between my lips, catching my tongue and denying the ability to say anything at all, save a garbled, surprised noise. She reached up to unclasp the cuff around my right arm and I let out a pained whimper as the limb fell to my side, joint and muscles flaring in protest.

"The needs and pleasure of your owner must always be first upon your mind, pet," she chided, thumb hooking to take the inside of my jaw, pulling me forward and turning my head. Her lips began to explore my cheek and ear, provoking a soft moan. "But I shall not fault you for being overwhelmed. You will make amends now." She reached up, undoing the manacle on my other arm, then gave a hard shove even before the limb had fallen to my side. Feet held apart by the metal bar separating them, I fell hard on my back. The wounds there had already begun to heal, but nowhere near enough. Pain ripped through through me and I arched back, leaving a smear of blood and sweat on the floor as my vision throbbed.

Vivian descended atop me, trapping my head between her legs. I barely glimpsed the shapely swell of her thighs, realizing she had nothing on beneath the jacket, before her groin pinned my head to the floor and my struggles ceased. Ignoring the throbs of agony that coursed through my body, I opened my mouth to kiss her sex, delight welling up at the low sigh of pleasure she voiced. My tongue flattened as it met her, dragging heavily along her labia. I reached up to grip the sides of her hips but she pulled me away, slamming my wrists down on the floor as she curled downward, loose hair forming a shroud around her as she stared down at me.

It wasn't fair. I knew, distantly, I shouldn't be chided for succumbing to an overload of sensations that she inflicted, that the pain as I was ground against the floor by her weight was enough to draw sobs from my throat; but her demanding gaze captured me entirely, transforming the pain to warm heat, making me squirm and whimper like prey caught in her web. I hungrily pushed my tongue into her sex, stiffening and exploring eagerly, gut twisting with the need to have her tremble and spasm above me. My fervent efforts drew a guttural moan from Vivian and she squeezed my wrists harder, hips beginning to sinuously grind down on my face. I lost what little control I had as she began to ride me, and I merely did what I could to spur her further as the woman's damp arousal coated my cheeks. My back still ached at the fiery lines across it, but now my thighs tried to clamp together and I squirmed for a different reason, feral anger building as the bar denied even that measure of satisfaction.

Vivian threw her head back with a loud moan, using me as she edged closer to orgasm. When it finally hit she shouted, releasing one of my hands to reach up and rake fingers through her hair, back arching and thighs clamping hard around my skull. My tongue laved desperately, doing everything I could to heighten her pleasure, and sympathetic tremors stole through my body as she climaxed.

She curled up, jerking spasmodically, then stilled, breath reduced to shallow pants, head canted down again and eyes squeezed shut. After a few seconds she relaxed, eyes drifting open to regard me with a lazy, smug regard. "Good girl," she praised, making my heart skip. She dismounted me then, languidly climbing to her feet and taking a few steps off to the side. I twisted at the newfound freedom, though as damaged skin that had plastered against the floor peeled off I let out a surprised groan. She glanced back at me, smirking. "You may take off the spreader," she told me, smoothing her jacket out with a side-to-side shimmy of her hips before nodding at the bar between my legs. "There aren't any locks."

I rose to a sitting position more tentatively, though the embarrassment at being so exposed, even to her, hastened me. When my legs were free I gingerly crawled onto my hands and knees, then sank to my elbows and cradled my head in my hands.

"Mmm, you do not look so bad in worship," Vivian mocked at the new position I found. "Particularly not with those marks. You have done well, pet, and I trust you shall recover swiftly. Come with me."

I fought to my feet at the order, driving off the fatigue that began to set in. She led me through a few doorways, ultimately stepping into a well-furnished bedroom with a lazy gesture off to the side. I hesitated, unsure of how to take the wave toward an empty part of the room. I knew enough of her to guess, though, and moved toward the indicated space before sinking to my knees. She didn't bother to look back during her passage to the far side of the room, opening a set of doors and tracing over folded clothing within. Eventually pulling a few articles out, she tossed them onto the bed and turned to me.

"You shall need an hour or so before you can wash without torturing yourself, I suspect. Momentarily I will send someone in to check your injuries, but I have faith in your durability. Once you have cleaned yourself up you may wait here until I have need of you." So saying, she stepped back through the door we entered by and disappeared.

When the door sealed shut in her wake I let out a trembling breath, my shoulders sagging and my head dropping to my chest. The lashes on my back still ached and throbbed, and the intensity of my orgasm followed by the quick demands she made of me afterward had left me feeling hollow. Doubts and worries filled my mind, causing my hands to tremble before I pressed firmly down on the ground. She was like a force of nature. I hadn't even had time to question most of what she dictated to me, and now the concerns held at bay all surged in. What was she going to do with me? Why was someone from such a high profile family even on an unregistered platform filled with criminals and amoral businessmen? I couldn't bring myself to ask the larger question behind the others: how would I escape? I had no desire to, even if everything I had struggled for previously was impossible while I served her.

She intoxicated me. I knew what I was made for and that I naturally sought to fulfill the desires of those around me, but it was a subtle thing I could never truly feel myself, for lack of a reference point. She did away with all subtlety, her desires remaking me to enable them, and the process was so forceful I couldn't help but recognize her influence. That power alone gave her satisfaction, and I shared in it.

The door beside me whisked open. I straightened, shoulders squaring properly and hands curling to my lap, as my gaze lifted to watch the clean-featured man that entered. Suddenly I was painfully aware of my nakedness, but there was little to do but dip my head guiltily as he looked me over from the entrance. He kept silent and I endeavored to do the same, but when he stepped forward to start rinsing and dabbing the deeper cuts among the lash-marks over my back I started to involuntarily hiss at the fiery sting he invoked, the muscles in my back locking up beneath his touch. Eventually he pressed against the front of one shoulder, straightening me up so he could examine the marks on my stomach, though he didn't bother cleaning any of them.

He rose and left, and the brief anxiety that gnawed at me over what he thought of my circumstances faded away as the fatigue I had fought off earlier set back in. Eyes lidding, I scanned the room once more before pushing up onto my knees and crawling toward the bed. Leveraging myself atop it, I collapsed on the soft blankets and gave in to sleep.

--

Little had changed when I awoke. The lash marks on my body had faded to tender, pink lines now, and I stretched out in grateful relief. After, I rose and found my way to the shower without incident, then set my attention on the clothing draped off one side of the bed. The dress fit well, rising to the throat but leaving the shoulders bare, though it was a little tighter than I would have liked and sheer panels along the sides exposed exposed much of my skin. The skirts fell loosely and to my legs, and once I was wearing the garment I realized the creamy white fabric wasn't entirely opaque, offering an indistinct view of my legs. There were heels as well, along with silver strands of jewelry to wrap around my wrist and neck. Altogether it was an attractive outfit, if revealing. I could have done much worse.

I gave over to exploring the room as I waited. The closet held a vast array of rich clothing, many of the designs fantastical and embroidered with expensive materials. One region of the storage space had been given to less remarkable clothing, and often more exposing. Evidently Vivian had been thinking on acquiring an empath for some time, judging from that. My lips twitched wryly. How fortuitous for her.

When she stepped back into the room she scanned the room, shaking her head at the flecks of blood staining the bed. "How impertinent," she muttered. I couldn't find any true displeasure in her voice, though I offered a contrite look in return. She now wore a coiling, inky shadow from her shoulders to her feet, the adventurous mix of fabric and technology clinging to her form and ever on the cusp of showing more, yet ever not. I stared.

"You cleaned up well," she observed of me in return, nodding in satisfaction. Her smile jerked on my heart, and she continued, "There is something I planned on attending tonight, pet. What was it... Min, you said. Come along, then. I am sure you will admire the spectacle."

She left the occasion vague and so I did not ask, but my curiosity burned as we left the suite of rooms she occupied and took the station's halls again. The path she took curved through the immaculate private walkways closed off to most of the populace, though it turned back toward the station's center. We descended, then stepped through a doorway into a wide sort of arena with a multitude of entrances along the outer walls. We had entered onto a balcony over the main floor, and as we neared the edge I could see a vast expanse of people beneath engaged in conversation. There were perhaps two hundred down below, but we were not alone on the balcony. A mixture of affluent-looking men and women were spread through the higher tier, joined in places by less polished individuals wearing Raptor emblems.

An arena of sorts occupied the center of the room, recessed into the floor so that even those on the main level could look down upon it with a clear view. A large metal panel split it in half. I stared down at it curiously as I kept near to Vivian, then let my attention sweep across the gathered people below. More men than women, but not by much. While the general population I had observed in wandering the station had been dressed in ragtag fashion, the crowds made of people that looked somewhat harried but competent nevertheless, this gathering was... soft. The Raptor members stood out, and while they weren't the only people around that looked as though they made their livings in hard ways, the vast majority seemed to ooze sleazy business practices or shriveling family inheritances. I felt a sliver of contempt for them, and began to wonder why the Raptors tolerated their presence when a gate into the arena opened and a man lumbered out.

Six and a half feet tall, he moved with heavy steps and began to prowl the arena once inside. He was barechested, showing off cabled muscles and a bulky artificial arm, shiny metal binding to skin at his shoulder. I couldn't make out his face from the distance, but his movements were angry and tense, as if he was ready to pounce but lacked a target. His shoulders heaved as he moved, breathing deep and quick already.

"What is this?" I found myself asking, gaze lifting to Vivian. She saw my confusion and smirked, extending a hand to indicate the ring.

"Why, it is a fight, of course, my pet. Or it soon will be. Have you never seen such a thing before?" I shook my head blankly, attention locking back on the man that paced below. What would he be fighting? Vivian eased behind me, arms wrapping possessively around my shoulders and setting her cheek against the side of my head. "That poor man was captured by someone, somewhere, and sold to the Raptors for this very night," she explained without a hint of compassion. "Or he made too much trouble while on the station and they forfeited his rights.