The Choices of Evelyn Ch. 19-21

Before Eva's eyes, the big doors closed. She turned on her heels, looking for Sandi.

"Come, honey," she said, "time to get us prepared."

***

Chapter Twenty-one – Amazon.

Huge doors rose before her, tall and closed. Snowflakes danced and swirled against their black surface, touching her bare arms and shoulders with icy wet kisses. The cold wind made her shiver. Looking down through the slits in her mask, she saw a huddling form, pale and naked, wrists bound with leather ropes. Sympathy was but a flickering flame in discipline's darkness.

Tightening the reins, the amazon wondered how she'd look from down there, through the eyes of her captive. The towering stallion must be silhouetted black against black, its stamping hooves terribly close – cold showers of snow sweeping the crouching creature as it shook its manes.

She herself must seem a tall, strong amazon, looking down from above – was she a ghost? a woman? From her feet up to her thighs her legs were laced in leather. Her ass seemed naked. In the uncertain glare of wavering torches, her chest seemed wrapped in leather allowing her tits to ride high, leaving long, hard nipples free. When she stood in her stirrups her clean-shaven cunt was in plain sight.

Her face was masked.

On her head she wore a tight leather helmet that sported a high red ponytail. Her hands were in half-gloves that left her blood-red talons free. Pulling hard on the reigns again, she made the horse rear and whinny, its hooves almost trampling her captive down there in the swirling snow. A black leather crop dangled from her thigh.

Beside the reins she held a leash. It ran to the bound wrists of the naked captive below. Was it a girl? A boy? The creature was completely naked. Even its feet were bare and bluish in the snow. Only its face was masked, like the woman on the horse, and in its mouth stuck an iron bit. It shivered from the cold, and the prancing horse obviously scared it.

Its hands were over its head and tied together.

Then the doors crashed open with a blast of trumpets and the surprised cries of the people inside. A cold December wind gushed into the hall, chilling the scantily clad guests and their servants. The barbaric amazon gave a mighty roar, slamming her heels into the horse's flanks. Through the pounding music its hooves clattered on stone, then dug into a thick layer of straw, stretching out through the entire hall. The guests scurried back to let the hellish animal pass. Drops of molten snow flew in their faces. The naked captive had to trot to keep up with the horse and her captor.

The amazon rode the length of the straw aisle. Then she disappeared through open doors at the end of the hall. First two, then more guests followed her. At last all of them thronged into the adjoining space, once the house's ballroom

This night, it had become a grotto. At the far side huge blocks of dark wood and black slabs of rock created a stage of primitive beauty against a backdrop of giant firs. A ramp led up to it and right now the amazon drove her mount over it. Her naked prisoner hurried behind. When they were up, pits of tar were lighted. Tall yellow flames created huge, moving shadows against the vaulted ceiling, giving the scene a primeval beauty.

The amazon girl stroked the proud neck of the horse with her hand. She leaned forward and whispered into its pointed ears. It snorted loudly, steam rising from its panting flanks. A hoof scratched the wooden planks. The captured creature had sunk to its knees as the music pounded relentlessly. It turned the big hall into a dark, all encompassing, throbbing heart.

***

From high up, Eva gazed down through the slits in her mask. She felt elated and took in great gulps of smoke-scented air. It made her tits heave on her chest, shining with the melting snow.

The hall filled up with breathless silence after the music stopped. All she heard was the scraping of the horse's hoof, the creaking of its leather harness and the pounding of her heart. All faces looked up at her – pale ovals they were, with dark set eyes, Mistress's guests, almost a hundred of them, she estimated.

How great it felt to be the center of attention; to squeeze her naked thighs around this gorgeous steed – to smell the beast's sweat again and feel its heat radiate through her flesh. Her skin still tingled from the severe cold outside. Hard nipples stood like sentinels. Snowflakes melted on her shoulders as tiny rivulets of hot juice seeped out of her swollen slit. They stained the horse's bare pelt and leaked down her trembling legs.

She felt incredibly excited.

Searching, her eyes swept the hall, finding the blue focus of her existence. A sweet, warm wave drowned her. Her cunt wept and a primal scream of pure elation left her mouth. It set off a new outburst of pounding drums.

Eva slid down the horse's back to join her naked boy-sister. Pulling at the leash she grabbed him by his collar, tearing at the strap that held the bit and taking it out. Sandi's gasps were audible in the farthest corners of the hall until the amazon girl smothered them with her wide red mouth.

A long, deep, hungry kiss started. Sandi's soft sweet almost-tits crushed into the leather harness, her belly and thighs pressed into her lover. The drums subsided. All guests around the stage could hear the sucking noises and the little high-pitched moans that left the she-boy's throat.

The amazon pulled up her lover and pushed him against the horse's hind leg. Without breaking the kiss, she undid the leash and the wristlock. Then she stood back and grabbed the boy's left hand, tying it to the leather sling that held the horse's tail up. She once again kissed him; then she tied his right wrist to the headset of the animal, stretching him into a wide, defenseless stance.

The amazon took one ankle, tying it to the hind leg of the horse, then the other ankle to the front leg. Amazingly, the horse stood totally still, just lowering its head as the boy formed a pale X against its dark body. His pink, sweet baby-cock and tiny, wrinkled ball sac showed his quickly fading identity to the guests below. No one knew what went on inside the boy's head; his mask hid every expression. But the continuous tremors that ran under his dark skin were plain to see. As were the juices dripping on the straw below.

Eva stepped forward. She cupped the tied boy's shrunken penis with her half-gloved hand, digging her talons into the weak flesh. She squeezed and drew a groan, making it stretch into a long, mewling moan. Then she turned around to the audience, lifting her hand to her mouth and licking it, before producing a long, willowy riding crop.

Watching the spread-eagled boy in silence she kissed its tip and slapped the shaft of her leather boot with it. It cracked like a pistol in the breathless silence.

"Who are you, boy?" she asked, her clear voice ringing in the huge hall, putting ironic emphasis on the gender. Sandi just stared. The slaps of the crop on the leather got louder – one, two, three.

"Who are you?"

"I... I Sandi."

"Who's Sandi?"

"I Mistress's slave."

"No, you're not," the amazon said.

"But I am," the naked she-boy insisted, almost whining. "She my Mistress. Sandi love her."

The amazon girl let the crop swish through the air.

"Liar!" she cried out, startling the suspended boy. A gush of urine hissed into the straw, making the audience sigh.

Eva turned left and right, searching for her Mistress. All week, the woman had instructed her in detail what to do and what to say, but to poor Sandi it was all new and no doubt scary as hell. The wetting himself was from genuine fear. The boy must be seriously upset that his truthfulness was doubted. It hurt her to do this to him, but there was no room left for doubt.

Not anymore.

In the returning silence Eva nodded at the blinking of her Mistress's eyes. She lifted the crop and traced the hanging boy's body with its soft flap, starting at his masked brow.

When she reached his trembling lips, she said: "Open up." Sandi opened his mouth.

"Suck on it."

The boy took in the leather and sucked hard on it. When Eva pulled it out, a clear string of spittle followed. The strung-up boy panted.

"Now tell us who your Master is."

"M..Master?"

The crop's tip reached Sandi's right nipple, the one with the sparkling piercing, and softly tapped it.

"M.. Mistress is," the boy said, sounding confused and scared. His voice seemed to add a question mark. Then he cried out as the crop's flap hit his right puffy tit hard, leaving a cruel and angry spot.

"Stupid boy, will you ever learn?" Eva said, almost hissing as her mind recoiled from the meanness of her actions. She hit the other swollen nipple and waited till the sobbing died down, swallowing her disgust.

"This crop is your Master, you, dumb slut," she said, her voice flat. "The horse you are tied to is your Master." She stamped the floor with her boot. "The ant I just crushed is your Master!"

Sandro wailed and sobbed now, shaking his head left and right, his black curls slick with sweat and molten snow.

"No... nooooo," he moaned. "Not true... ask Mistress... ask her. Sandi love her. She love Sandi. She..." A rain of lashes cut him off. Shaking and twitching against the horse, Sandi received a flogging that didn't seem to end. Mixed into his wailing he cried out for his Mistress. His voice had the desperate whine of a betrayed child.

"Miss... mistress! I sorry! Forgive Sandi..."

When Eva at last almost vomited from despair, she sank to her knees, panting, watching the naked boy sag from the horse's side, unconscious and bloody. Eva shook and sobbed as she knee-walked to the broken body. She embraced it and started kissing the awful wealds and stripes – licking them and murmuring words of love.

There was total silence in the hall. The audience was too much taken aback to respond. All one heard was the moaning and sobbing of the torturer and the slurping of her mouth on the skin of her victim.

M smiled ruefully. She had watched these snobs around her closely. She'd caught their shocked and very true reactions, now hastily covered up with their common, blasé expression. Of course, they beat their subs and slaves. They flogged and whipped them, hurt them with clamps and burning wax. And often enough, it wasn't all show and make-believe. But the vehemence and deep passion of these two creatures had taken them by surprise, as had the cruel, illogical path of questioning. Most of all they were amazed by the lack of direction – the seeming spontaneity.

The gratuity of the violence had shocked them, of course, but most of all the deep, obvious love that so paradoxically shone through every cruel move, and every gesture. As did the ultimate breakdown of Eva. Who was the Master here, who was the slave? They hated unclarity.

A sigh ran through the crowd. Hissing sounds left throats of people who'd had no idea they'd held their breath all the time. Eyes popped. Pants tightened. Wet thighs squirmed to find friction.

The amazon girl rose and started to undo her little she-brother's bonds. Sandi sagged into her arms. She laid him down on the edge of the stage and stood over him, head down, arms dangling. Then she lifted her face, watching the crowd from the darkness of her mask. Glistening tears ran from under it, and her red lips were a narrow line.

"Are you happy now?" she asked with the same flat voice she'd used before. The only response was an uneasy murmur.

M looked around. These people had come to judge her tonight – some had already condemned her. She searched out the Contessa's pale face, and those of the other hypocritical old timers. Punishment was a ritual to them. It was a mere symbol to assure that their world was still right – a vertical world of slaves and masters, with their superiority firmly and automatically entrenched; there was no need to be truly and emotionally involved.

True emotions were... vulgar. Never had they felt the other side – or even wondered about it. They'd never been flogged and humiliated, feeling the overwhelming effect of being reduced to nobody. When had they suffered enough to taste the reverse side of the blood-soaked medal? Could they ever understand their slaves? Did they even want to?

"No, you're not happy," Eva went on, looking down from her elevated position and weighing the next line Mistress had given her. "I guess you need more," she then said.

She knelt down behind her broken brother, cradling the limp body like a perverted Pietà. Then she produced a tiny vial and held it under the boy's nose, waking him up with a start. Eva pulled him up, displaying the tortured body, then twisting the boy's head to hers – kissing him deeply.

Amazed that the bloodied boy could even stand, the audience saw him rise and start stripping his tormentor. Buckle after buckle loosened up until the whole harness slid down with a rattle. Eva stepped out of the wormlike bunch of leather straps, naked now but for her boots. She looked glorious – pale skin, high round tits, tight belly, long and slender thighs; a masked, faceless creature from a barbaric world she was. Standing on display for the gaping crowd she slowly moved left and right, allowing the yellow light of the burning torches to lick at her curves.

"Raise arms."

M focused on Sandi's face. It was as soft and sweet as ever. What he would do and say had been rehearsed in detail, without Eva knowing anything of it. Like the amazon girl before, Sandi would act out everything M had instructed him with. He would be cruel to his sister, just like his sister had been cruel to him. And just like Eva, it would hurt himself as much as it would hurt her.

There would be no hesitation, though – no holding back, just like Eva had put all her force into it. Love was involved, M knew, the cruel, crazy magic of unconditional love. Ah, what did these damn people know about the price of love?

What had she herself known about it?

"Tell us who you are."

It was the voice of the naked slave boy again. He stood behind Eva. She couldn't see the bloodied crop dangling from his bloodied hand, but she knew it was there. She closed her eyes, recalling the many times she'd been flogged. At first, there always had been this reflex of her body to shy away and ball up in defense – and the outcry of her mind. But months had passed, and rebellion became hesitance, hesitance mere shivering. Outrage became a silent moaning, turning into a quiet sob of surrender. Her body had been first to embrace the pain and turn it into pleasure, like the amazing act of an alchemist – stone to gold, pain to ecstasy.

Her mind had followed. So, now she stood, waiting, anticipating while her heart raced, and her cunt wept.

"I am Eva," she finally said. "My Mistress's slave." The crop hit her back, she winced.

"Bullshit, you, arrogant slut." Sandi's face was soft and neutral, as was his voice. He must be reciting what he'd been instructed to say; there was hardly a trace of an accent.

"But I am... I love her," Eva said, a tremor of uncertainty slipping in. She yelped at a second lash. Although she wasn't chained or strung up, she didn't move – not at the third and not at the fourth strike. She stood like a statue, arms up, feet firmly planted on heeled boots. Then she slowly turned around to watch her tormentor. "I do love her," she said. "Like I love you. You are my brother." Two hard lashes across her chest made her reel. "What... what else do you want of me?" she asked. Two more hard strikes hit her belly. She sank to her knees. Sandi stood over her, sobbing, the crop shaking in his hand.

"Rise," he said, wrestling his voice through the thickness of his throat. "No one allowed you to kneel." And he struck the girl's shoulders. Eva slowly rose until she stood again, arms up, legs open, only to receive two more lashes on her thighs. "Turn back to audience," Sandi said. "No one told you look at me." Eva turned, receiving hard blows to her back. "Tell people you are horse slut." There was hesitation.

"I am a horse slut," Eva then said, whining the last word as the whip found her again.

"What is horse slut?" Another hesitation – and another strike.

"A... a horse slut lo... loves horses." Sandro grinned, while tears smeared his olive face. Then he leant forward and gave Eva a rain of lashes, making her sink to her knees again.

"Up!" he cried. "Up, you, arrogant pretender, always lying to look better than you are." Eva climbed to her feet again, shocked by the boy's cruelty. She stumbled until she stood, arms rising over her head. "Horse sluts are nothing," Sandi said, shrugging. "They less than horses." Eva stood now, staring out over the crowd as more blows rained on her back.

"Say it!"

"I am a horse slut," Eva said, toneless. "I am less than a horse."

"Horses are whipped... when they displease... their Master," Sandro went on, repeating what M had told him to say. Lashes punctured his sentence. "But horse sluts are whipped anyway," he added, delivering another strike. "Tell us why, slut," he then asked. "Why I whip you?" Eva looked down on the pale faces of her audience, searching for her Mistress, while the flogging went on.

"Because I deserve it?"

"Wrong answer, slut." New lashings. Eva staggered.

"Because I need it?" More blows. "To prove my love?" Her eyes were firmly on M now. Tears ran from under her mask, mingling with her sweat. M held the girl's eyes. Eva wondered if she knew why she cried. It wasn't the pain. It was the denial of her sincerest motives, the doubting of her devotion after all this time. "I... I don't know!" Her voice was a lost whine now as she stiffened to receive more blows. But they didn't come.

"Good girl," Sandi said. He made the compliment sound as impersonal as his accusations had sounded before. "You don't know, and you don't need know. You be whipped whenever it pleases your Mistress, or who she says is your Master." There was silence. "Say you understand, slut."

"I understand." There were two more lashes.

"What you understand, slut?"

"That I'll be whipped by whomever it pleases."

"And?"

"I... I agree." Three more vicious lashes hit her from behind. Surprised she yelped.

"Silly answer," Sandi said. "Nobody need your agreement. Now turn around and walk to horse. Try not to get this one killed." Eva stumbled at the sneer. Then she walked on to the horse. The audience gasped at the ruin of her backside, a labyrinth of furious lines.

"Kiss your lover, whore." Eva took the harnessed head of the horse in her hands, kissing its velvet nose.

"Votan," she whispered, knowing well he wasn't. Sandi lashed the back of her thighs.

"You can better than that." Eva hugged the big head, pulling it between her tits. She rubbed it on her skin, slick with tears and sweat and pink smears of blood.

"You hypocrite," she heard from behind. "Suddenly shy, slut?" So mean he sounded, so not him at all. A programmed robot. New lashings made her stagger. Then she forced the head down and pressed it between her thighs, starting slow movements.

"Hit me," she said, her voice hoarse. There was silence behind her; her request obviously confused the boy.

"What you say?" Eva moved faster on the head. Her mouth opened, and she panted.

"Hit me. Hit me hard."

The words shook M. Nothing like that had ever come to her mind while instructing the boy. Nothing like this at all.

Sandi hesitated; then he stepped forward. With sudden tenderness he made the triangular little flap at the tip of the crop run down the spine of the naked girl, crossing a battlefield of wealds. It extracted new gasps.