Mindgames Ch. 12

Chapter 12: Stretched

Present day

When Jordyn finished showing Mariah the stretches, she brought saddles into the stall. She seemed to assume that Mariah would want to help her clean and condition them. Somewhat to her own surprise, Mariah did not refuse.

In answer to Jordyn's question, Mariah struggled to describe where she had ridden with Gabriel earlier. This led Jordyn to tell Mariah about some of the places she went on her daily rides.

Mariah tried to memorize the information Jordyn gave her, her old habit, but found that she didn't have the will to do so. Instead, she simply listened to the stories that Jordyn told, about hidden ponds and beautiful meadows and, more than anything, the horses she rode to them.

A couple of stable hands had stopped by to be introduced to Mariah, easily bantering with Jordyn, but no humans interrupted them. So Mariah did not look up from the saddle she was polishing when someone cleared his throat at the entrance to the stall. When Master Animal impatiently said her name, she was so surprised that, without thinking, she fell to her knees before him. Jordyn copied her, gracefully. In confusion, Mariah scrambled to her feet, scowling.

Master Animal tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Gabriel sent me a note," he said. "He said you needed escort." He frowned, but seemed more amused than annoyed. "Of course, if he'd known that you're actually making yourself useful . . ." he said, indicating the saddle Mariah had been working on. He winked at Jordyn, who smiled in return and rose to her feet.

"Thank you for your help with the saddles," Jordyn said to Mariah.

"No, thank you for . . ." Mariah began, and stopped, embarrassed.

Master Animal rolled his eyes and turned to walk to the front of the stable. Mariah shrugged at Jordyn and followed him.

At the entrance Master Animal stopped so abruptly that Mariah almost walked into him. He cursed under his breath.

Mariah peered around him. Master Stefan was talking to a slave who sat astride the same horse Mariah had ridden earlier. "Give her a good kick," he said. "Make her listen to you."

It was Rose atop the horse. She pressed her heels into the horse and he started to walk. "Good," Master Stefan said. "When you're ready, turn him back towards me."

"What the . . ." Master Animal growled. But he stopped. Rose had pulled the bridle to the right, steering the horse around in a half-circle. As the horse walked around, Rose's face came into view. Her smile was wide and her eyes shone. Master Animal caught his breath. Rose kicked the horse and he began to trot.

"Pull back on the reins," Master Stefan called to her, stepping towards the horse. "No trotting in the yard."

Rose pulled on the reins, and the horse slowed to a stop. Master Stefan turned leisurely to Master Animal. "Would you like to help her down, or shall I?" he asked benignly, all courtesy and innocence.

Master Animal frowned, but he looked at Rose, who was sitting tall and proud. He seemed transfixed by her. Master Stefan waited a moment, then walked over to the horse. He gave instructions to Rose, and she rather clumsily dismounted. Master Stefan had a hand under one of her arms, and Master Animal hurried over and steadied her other side. Rose smiled, her eyes shining.

Mariah remembers

The next day Mariah was called up and forced to whip a slave named Annie while Falud stood behind Mariah and finger-fucked her.

It was the third day in a row Mariah had been called up. Mariah faced the possibility that Mistress Desiree would not soon lose interest soon in this game. She spent that afternoon and night and the next morning steeling herself. When, after lunch, Mistress Desiree called her up yet again, Mariah took a deep breath and fell to her knees before Mistress Desiree, touching her forehead to the ground.

"You may speak," Mistress Desiree said.

Mariah looked up. "I beg you, Mistress," she said. "I would rather be whipped than . . ."

Mistress Desiree raised her eyebrows. "Are you a pain slut?" she asked. Mariah shook her head, confused. Mistress Desiree said, "No, of course not, you're just out of the factory, you've had no time for such training." She shrugged. "As you wish," she said. "Lower the trapeze."

As Mariah, shaking, turned a wheel on the wall to bring the trapeze down from the ceiling, Mistress Desiree looked speculatively at the slaves kneeling in front of her. She called Roberto. Mariah was relieved. Roberto was tall and strong, but she was friendly with him and had spent a night with him. He would be gentle.

But when Mistress Desiree ordered him to attach Mariah to the trapeze, he grabbed Mariah's wrist roughly. As he raised it he bent slightly so he could whisper in her ear, "There's nothing more disgusting than a kiss ass." He straightened up and cuffed her firmly to the rod overhead, her hands in position to grab it. Mariah tried to protest Roberto's words, his roughness, but Mistress Desiree had walked over to inspect his work. Mariah's eyes stung, but, with Mistress Desiree, and everyone, watching she resisted the urge to wipe them on her upper arm.

At Mistress Desiree's instructions Roberto cuffed Mariah's feet to a spreader bar. Mistress Desiree turned the wheel until Mariah's arms were straight above her head. "I'm leaving your feet flat on the ground," she said.

"Thank you, Mistress." Mariah was genuinely grateful for this unexpected kindness.

"Nonsense," Mistress Desiree said. "I want you to have room to dodge, so you'll feel the lash in every crevice." She turned to the slaves kneeling in front of her, considering. "Hugo," she called.

Mariah's heart sank. Two boys, and neither of them gay. She had observed that girls, no matter what their preference, could experience pleasure relatively easily from anyone with skill. Not so with boys; only with massive effort and concentration could they block out their lack of interest in the wrong type of person.

Mistress Desiree proffered the flat, wide whip to Hugo. Roberto kneeled before him. They two men looked at each other dubiously. "Well, go on ," Mistress Desiree said.

Hugo raised the whip and brought it down onto Mariah's chest. Mariah cried out as much with shock at its power as with pain. The whip struck her again. Through slitted eyes she saw Roberto lean in towards Hugo, distaste plain on his face. Hugo shuddered and raised the whip. He was clearly practiced in the art. He slashed at the underside of Mariah's breasts. Without thinking she tried to twist away, twirling on her feet until her back was towards Hugo. He slashed at her butt. It burned.

Mariah had been whipped many times. She knew the fear was the worst part - fear that the punishment would never stop, that she would be permanently damaged. She tried to calm her thoughts between hits, but they came too fast, and too hard. Her butt, her back, her thighs. When she spun around, Hugo aimed for her abdomen. Facing front, Mariah saw that he was barely hard, although he stood wide-stanced, trying to give Roberto as much access as possible.

Hugo aimed the whip lower, to her inner thighs. Mistress Desiree suggested, "Try slashing up. You might enjoy that more." Mariah braced herself for the shattering pain. It came, once, twice, three times. Each time Mariah shrieked. Blinking her eyes open, she saw that Hugo was now hard, and that Roberto had put his mouth on him.

She spun, and Hugo aimed over and over at her buttocks, until they were raw. She did not want to turn around, but then Hugo slashed up, from behind, the whip curling around her crotch. She screamed this time and twisted until she was facing front. Hugo nodded. "Good, look at me," he said hoarsely to her. "I need to see you." Deliberately he lowered the whip and swung up from the bottom. Mariah screamed in anticipation. Just as the whip hit her, Hugo grunted, and shuddered, and came in Roberto's mouth.

Present day

Mariah felt unsettled. She did her exercises, adding the stretches that Jordyn had showed her that day. Rose was humming while she cleaned up after dinner, an odd little smile on her face. Master Animal sketched, glancing at Rose as his hands flew over the page, but he held the pad at an angle so that neither Rose nor Mariah could see what he was drawing.

Mariah walked over to the sliding door to the courtyard. "Where do you think you're going?" Master Animal demanded.

Mariah stopped, almost relieved. "To my master's apartment, if it pleases you," she said.

"He's not there," Master Animal said.

Mariah knew that. "What would you have me do, Master?" she asked, somewhere between sarcastic and worried.

Master Animal sighed, and put down his sketchbook, turning it over as he did so. He frowned at the door, then turned to Rose. "Go with her," he said.

"Master?" Rose asked softly, the closest she ever came to protesting an order from Master Animal.

Animal frowned. "Don't backtalk me."

Mariah looked uncertainly from one to the other. Master Gabriel always led her back to his apartment at this time of night. Rose had told her that she and Master Animal had sex every night, and that she liked it. She assumed Master Animal did too since, as he had told her, he enjoyed no other slaves. So why was he sending Rose with her?

Then she understood. Hot embarrassment filled her. She turned to Master Animal, wide-stanced, her arms crossed below her chest. "Do you really think that Rose could keep me from running away?" she asked him.

Master Animal's frown deepened. "Hoping your conscience will," he said, "since if you run, Rose will suffer for it." His hand went to the handle of his whip. "And if you don't want to feel my lash in your master's absence, I suggest you remember how to address me."

Mariah colored but did not stand down until Rose put her hand on Mariah's arm. Mariah saw her eyes were filling with tears. "My apologies, Master," Mariah muttered.

Master Animal nodded. He turned to Rose. "Wake me when you come in," he said to her. He turned abruptly away and stalked to his bedroom.

Rose went to a cabinet and took out silver serving utensils. She placed in a basket and followed Mariah out the sliding door. When the two of them entered Master Gabriel's apartment, she unloaded them onto a cloth on the dining room table and began polishing them.

"Why are you doing that?" Mariah asked peevishly. "The hall mistress just did her inspection, and Master Animal won't notice or care if his pie server is a little tarnished."

Rose started to protest, but then stopped herself. She took a deep breath and said calmly, "I'll notice and care. I live there too. I like things to look nice."

Mariah was silenced by that. She sat opposite Rose and picked up a large spoon, turning it so it reflected the light from the lamp. Bored, she put it down. She watched Rose for a while before asking, "You know how some slaves believe that after we die we'll come back as humans?"

Rose nodded, picking up a pair of sugar tongs.

"Do you think it's true?" Mariah asked her.

"I hope not!" Rose said fervently, shuddering.

"Why?" Mariah asked. "Wouldn't you like to be free?"

Rose focused on polishing the tongs, that, as far as Mariah knew, had never been used. After a minute Rose said, so quietly that Mariah could barely hear her, "I don't think I'd be strong enough to be a pansy. I would never want to face that test."

Mariah laughed. "Pansies aren't strong, they're just lazy," she said.

"You're wrong." Rose looked up, certainty written on her face. "Master Animal's not lazy. He gets taunted and teased all the time. He had no true friends until Master Gabriel came along." She dropped the tongs with a clatter. "You think it doesn't take courage to endure that, when he could put a stop to it with the flick of a whip?"

Mariah snorted. "So what? I would take his choice over being a slave any day."

"You're stronger than me," Rose said. She picked up the tongs and began polishing again, rubbing so hard that Mariah wondered if she would warp the metal. "I couldn't bear it."

Mariah remembers

Mariah barely slept that night. She had searched for a position where she was not placing her weight on her new wounds, finally putting her knees under her and bending over them. Her whipped breasts pressed into her thighs, which were softer than the floor. But she soon cramped up that way.

She stood slowly, grateful that the soles of her feet had not been attacked. Such torture was rare, because it made slaves unfit for most work, but was not unheard of.

The door to the washroom was open, shedding dim light into the sleeping area. Tariq was sitting up against a wall near the door. He was alone, which was unusual for him. He seemed lost in thought. When he noticed Mariah he gave her his slow smile. "Girl, she's got you doing hard time," he said. "The vet look at your wounds?"

Mariah shook her head. The vet had made her weekly visit today, but a whipping wasn't enough to warrant her attention.

Tariq regarded her for a moment. Then he sighed. "Come on," he said. He led her to a supply cabinet in the bathroom. He reached up to the trim above the cabinet door, where he found a key. Unlocking the door, he took out a bottle of ointment.

"Turn around," he told Mariah. He spread the medicine on her back. The relief was so immediate that Mariah sagged.

When Tariq finished, he handed Mariah the bottle. "You can reach everywhere else," he said. "Just lock up when you're done." He left before Mariah could thank him.

Mariah coated her body with the balm, which left a greasy residue. She carefully put away the bottle and the key. When she left the bathroom Tariq was gone.

Present day

Mariah and Rose had fallen asleep on opposite ends of the couch in Master Gabriel's living room. Mariah awoke with a jolt when Master Gabriel opened the door to the apartment. He looked haggard, and his tunic was stained with blood. When he saw Mariah he gave her a weak grin. "It's nice to see you," he said softly.

Mariah stood up uncertainly. "How did . . . The woman . . . her leg . .?" She shook her head, trying to wake all the way up.

Master Gabriel took his shirt off and headed for the bathroom. "She'll live," he said. "And I think I saved the leg." He sighed, holding his shirt by his fingertips and then dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. "You should go to bed," he said. "I need to wash up." He closed the bathroom door firmly behind him.

But Mariah stayed on the couch. The next thing she knew Master Gabriel was walking towards her, wearing only his pajama bottoms. Mariah thought she reached out and touched his muscled abdomen, but she blinked and he was still walking towards her. She tried to wake up fully.

"Ladies, bed," Master Gabriel said. "You'll get a stiff neck if you sleep here."

Rose opened her eyes blearily. Master Gabriel was massaging his own shoulder. "Master, I can . . . I'm trained to . . ." Rose began, but she was too tired to continue. She looked over at Mariah, who shrugged, got up, and stumbled to her own bedroom. But she didn't go in until Rose had slipped out the patio door towards Master Animal's apartment.

Mariah remembers

When Mistress Desiree called Mariah up the next day, the room was dead silent as the slaves watched her. She knew they were wondering if she would take the whip her mistress offered her.

Mariah's hand slowly reached out and grasped the handle. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. She could barely make out Mistress Desiree nodding with satisfaction as she said, "Good girl."

Present day

Mariah woke the next day to a squeaking noise outside her bedroom door. Wondering if it was a mouse, she opened the door to see Master Gabriel scrubbing the floorboards with a rag. "Sorry," he said. "Did I wake you?"

"What are you doing, Master?" Mariah asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "I dropped my filthy shirt here last night," he said. "Some blood smeared."

"Rose will clean that for you," Mariah said.

"I know," Master Gabriel responded. "That's why I'm doing it before she sees it." Mariah just looked at him for a minute and then she couldn't help it; she started to laugh. Master Gabriel joined her, although he looked confused. That made Mariah laugh even harder.

Master Animal and Rose came in. Mariah laughed until she fell down, tears leaking out of her eyes.

"Um, breathe?" Master Gabriel suggested. But all Mariah could do was point from Master Gabriel to Rose and back again.

Mariah remembers

Mistress Desiree called Mariah up for several more days. There was no doubt that Mariah would take the proffered whip. At times she found herself feeling proud of her increasing mastery over it and then, horrified, she shoved down the thought.

One day Mistress Desiree called up only one slave in addition to Mariah, a short, curly haired boy named Clark. Mariah quickly cuffed him to the trapeze, then looked expectantly at Mistress Desiree to see who she would call to pleasure Mariah. But Mistress Desiree merely said, "You may begin."

Mariah was elated. Her torture was over. She picked up the whip. "Not for pleasure," she said chanted to herself as she worked over Clark's body, her lash following his twists and turns. "Never for my pleasure."

When Clark was marked from knees to neck and Mariah covered with a fine sheen of sweat, Mistress Desiree held up her hand for her to stop. Coming behind Mariah, she wrapped her hand around Mariah's front, and touched her slit. "You're dry," Mistress Mariah said, sounding astonished. She twirled Mariah around so they were facing each other. "Have you learned nothing in these past days?"

It was a mindgame. Mariah opened and closed her mouth. The whip slipped from her hand.

It was a mindgame, and yet Mistress Desiree seemed genuinely angry. Her lips pressed together into thin lines as she looked at the whip on the floor. "Pick it up," she said tersely. When Mariah had complied, she said, "You choose."

At first Mariah thought her mistress meant she should choose whether to whip or be whipped, but that made no sense. The whole room knew, to her shame, that she would choose to inflict pain rather than to receive it.

And then Mariah understood. She was to choose who she would whip, and who would pleasure her while she did so.

Someone strong to whip, she thought, someone who could bear it more easily. Her eyes fell on Tariq, compact, muscular, nearly unmarked. She nodded at him. And then, randomly, she nodded at the girl next to him, a slight thing who Mariah did not recognize.

Mistress Desiree narrowed her eyes at Mariah's pick. She said to Tariq, tersely, "Tie Kara up."

Mariah realized her mistake. "No, Mistress, I . . . "

The look Mistress Desiree gave Mariah was cold as ice. Mariah faltered. "I meant to choose Tariq to . . . "

"Don't reach above yourself," Mistress Desiree said softly. "You only get the choices your betters give you."

Mariah looked dubiously at Kara as Tariq tied her to the post. She was new to the center. Auburn hair, pale, pale skin on a thin, thin body. She looked like a bark of laughter could blow her away.

Mariah glanced then at Tariq, and involuntarily took a step back from the wave of anger that met her. But he approached her, wordlessly. Placing his hands on her hips, he positioned her so that she was standing just where she needed to whip Kara. He fell to his knees before her, and she began.

Tariq's hands were miracles. His fingers fluttered on her, in her, firm, soft, as if he felt her every sensation. He hadn't even put his mouth on her, just leaned in close, so close, and Mariah could feel herself gushing. Kara yelped when the whip hit her breast, and Mariah adjusted the angle. And then Tariq's tongue was on her, and his fingers pushing into her, and he started and stopped, establishing a rhythm that allowed Mariah's body to anticipate and her mind to trust what he would do next. She had never come so close to her peak so fast. And then she was there. She came before Kara was half marked.