tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Rebellious Slave Ch. 15

The Rebellious Slave Ch. 15


Author's Note: Thank you, fabulous readers, for all of your support, amazingly helpful comments, and ratings. It's taken me quite a while to set up for what I hope will be a thrilling ride as the story progresses, and I appreciate your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter and the next, which I have eagerly awaited writing for about a month now.



Arlington stared at the square slab of metal in Kara's hands, his eyes perplexed. Clearly, his lordship didn't realize that the black device was a tracking implant. But Kara was okay with that. She didn't mind waiting for Arlington. In fact, Kara rather liked the suspense.

But, more importantly, Kara wanted to savor the changing expressions on Arlington's face, when he finally realized that Tamius Sue was gone. His initial feelings of confusion and intrigue were merely the prologue to a much more interesting story. But, Kara had to admit, they were also entertaining in their own right. Arlington was always so sure of himself, and Kara enjoyed seeing bewilderment on his face for a change. Anger would come eventually, and Kara planned to savor the emotion when it consumed Arlington. But for now, uncertainty would serve as a fine appetizer. After all, a finale was no fun without the initial, subdued display of fireworks, to create awe through juxtaposition.

As Arlington approached Kara--his footsteps cautious, but determined--a light ignited behind his eyes and gradually intensified, until it became a full blown flame. The confusion on Arlington's face was gone now, recently replaced with cool conviction and an analytic air. And with that, Lord Arlington snatched the tracking implant out of Kara's hands, in order to study the metal square up close and confirm his suspicions. For several minutes, his lordship turned the implant over and over again in his hands, squinting at the rough edges and then the device's registration number, which was printed on the black surface in silvery white ink.

When realization and then rage finally settled across Arlington's features, Kara was not disappointed. First, there was a spark of shock in his lordship's eyes, and a momentary glimpse of disbelief. It was as beautiful as watching a shooting star slash across the sky, before disappearing into blackness. Then, Lord Arlington cracked, so abruptly that Kara could almost hear his calm shatter and then fall away, like broken glass. The man's face had become ugly and lopsided with intense anger, as it should be, for Arlington's beautiful features had always seemed out of place on his cruel face. And was there a hint of embarrassment? Maybe a little humiliation? Indeed, there was a flush coloring Arlington's face, turning it a brilliant shade of red, dark and foreboding and positively gorgeous.

If anyone else had been before Arlington then, the poor soul would have surely fled from his lordship. And if running were impossible, the miserable creature would have at least backed away from Lord Arlington, and possibly tried to find a weapon for self defense. But Kara was done running from Lord Arlington. In all honesty, she had only put on a facade of obedience and fear for the sake of a possible escape. And now that the escape had been botched, Kara no longer had any reason to bow before her lord.

Instead of running, Kara stayed sitting on the couch, a victorious smile on her lips. As Arlington drew ever closer, she made sure to brand every expression on his face--especially the humiliation--into her brain, where it could be recalled for future inspiration. Kara did not wish to forget a single moment of her glorious victory, and hung onto the triumph of the moment with a vigor most unbecoming of a slave.

But Kara wasn't a slave, not by a long shot. Kara was unbroken, untamed, and unremitting. And now, Arlington also knew that she was a force to be reckoned with. Now, he knew that Kara shouldn't have been underestimated, under the false presumption that she was merely a medic from the countryside of a fallen nation. For Kara Chrystein was so much more, and she liked feeling on par with Arlington for a change.

"Do you see this smile?" Kara asked, as Arlington turned toward her with a murderous expression. But as the monster's presence became ever more pronounced, Kara's eyes betrayed no fear. There was only a sinister sense of triumph behind her irises, and even a hint of amusement. "I want you to burn this smile into your memory," Kara told her lord, and she pointed to a dimpled cheek. "Even when I've been broken by you---which I know will happen eventually, as I am only human. But Arlington, even then, when I am just a doll under your feet, I want you to unwillingly recall this expression. And you'll know then that, at least once, I beat you. You'll remember that there was a time when I wasn't so soft, and threw your miserable ass into the fire in order to watch you burn. Because you can't erase the past, Arlington. None of us can. And so the fact will always remain that, today, I won. I beat you, you miserable fuck wad, and you'll never be able to go back and fix that."

"Where is she?" Arlington hissed, moving onto the couch and forcing Kara to lie down on it. For there was nowhere else to go, if Kara wished to back away from Arlington's grasp. Soon, they were both atop the sofa, with Kara lying below Arlington's massive form, mere inches separating the beauty from the beast. And there, Arlington remained, breathing hot air onto Kara's face, his eyes wonderfully, fabulously livid. God, humiliation suited the man well. Kara thought that Arlington almost looked handsome. "I will ask only once, Kara," his lordship told her, his voice trembling and threat underlining every uttered word. "Where is Tamius, and how did she get out?"

"I don't know," Kara answered, and it was the truth. But to ensure that Arlington realized this, Kara looked up into her lord's eyes with an honest, unblinking stare. His lordship was, after all, a mind reader and Kara wished to capitalize on that fact. "I know not where Tamius is, or how she got there, or where she intends to go afterwards," Kara continued, keeping her voice even. "I know only that she is gone, and is probably very, very far away by now. She disappeared into the darkness, like a ghost. And like a ghost, who knows the manner of her disappearance, or of her eventual reappearance?"

Then, quite suddenly, Arlington cursed under his breath. It was so violent and sudden an outburst, that Kara jumped ever so slightly. But for some reason, Arlington's wrath was no longer directed at Kara, and he hardly noticed that she moved. Standing from the couch, Arlington rested his face in his palm and groaned. When his features emerged into the firelight once more, there was a fresh wave of anger, different from before. And, Kara realized, this anger was self directed.

"Greenwood!" Arlington hissed, and he leaned against the mantle of the fireplace, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Goddamn it, how could I have missed them! How could I have missed so many signs! An underground route, of course. Goddamn it, Arlington!"

And with that, Lord Arlington headed for the doorway, his footsteps quick and light. Kara knew why, too. He had seen the truth behind Kara's eyes, and didn't have time to deal with her. Instead, Arlington was opting to search for Tamius, on the off chance that she was still within tracking distance. And as the door to the living space slammed shut, Kara could hear a gentle clicking sound and realized that she had been locked inside the room.

But Kara didn't mind. What was one more locked room? One more closed door? One more barrier to freedom? Kara couldn't leave Arlington's manor anyway, not with a tracking implant embedded in her back. And so, with nothing better to do, Kara returned to her sitcom. And as she popped a chocolate into her mouth, Kara wondered if it might be wise to finish off another bottle of wine. When Arlington finally did come back, having a little alcohol in her system couldn't hurt.

An hour or so later, the door creaked open and Kara looked up from the television set. But to her immense surprise, Kara didn't see Lord Arlington enter into the room. Instead, Kara saw a well built woman nearly seven feet tall, who's toned muscles flexed with an earnestness that was most intimidating. The woman's violet eyes, Kara observed, were soft, yet serious, which seemed to mitigate her imposing figure. But Kara still didn't like the way her broad shoulders blocked out the light behind her, nor the impressive width of her stance. The woman must be a cop, Kara reasoned, for she wore a black body suit and was decorated with a number of sinister weapons.

Perplexed by Arlington's absence, Kara opened her mouth to question the woman, but his lordship trotted in after the cop, and Kara fell silent. "The girl is my private property," Lord Arlington was saying, in the midst of an ongoing conversation. His voice was both clipped and irritated, indicating that he was most displeased with the discourse. "I expect my property rights to be respected and upheld by the law, Constance," he continued, trying to sound forceful. "And as a woman of the law, I anticipate that we won't have any problems."

"Come on, Arlington," Constance sighed, running a hand through her short, silvery locks. "Property rights aren't inalienable, and you know that. If national security is at stake, then I am allowed to confiscate personal property as I see fit. The girl's just released a war time criminal into Capital City, and she has to be taken in for questioning. That's the protocol. If you don't like it, take the matter up with my supervisor."

"Let me handle the questioning," Arlington insisted, turning off the television set for quiet, before turning back to Constance. Kara, meanwhile, was completely ignored, which turned out to be a good thing. Since no one was paying her any heed, Kara was able to sit back and watch the conversation as she might a movie, popping the occasional chocolate into her mouth and sipping on a half filled glass of red wine. "I know the girl better than anyone else," Arlington continued, his voice earnest. "So I should be the one to handle her."

"No, Arlington. Absolutely not; I simply can't allow it," Constance growled, her voice firm. Apparently, Arlington had already asked this question several times, and was pestering Constance for a different answer. "Protocol forbids me from allowing an interrogator to handle a family member's case. We can't just ignore a potential conflict of interest. I'm sorry, but a house slave falls under the legal definition of "family," and you'll have to sit this one out. It would be unethical of me to make an exception in your case, whether or not you're the Fourth Lord of Isleydor."

"Oh, dear god," Kara laughed, unable to help herself. And upon hearing the outburst, both Arlington and Constance suddenly turned toward Kara, their faces stern. But the conquest slave couldn't care less. She was still high from her recent victory, and caution seemed to be a ridiculous concept. Kara was fucked as it was, so there was no real reason for her to hold her tongue in front of Arlington or feign respect for his guest. "I don't think you should be using that word," Kara continued, her tone amused. "I highly doubt that either one of you is familiar with the term 'unethical,' or even know what it means. I mean, who is in charge of these supposed 'Ethical Standards'? Do you have a retarded duck on your payroll, or do you just throw a bunch of proposed standards into the air, and whichever ones hit the ground first become official?"

The harsh insinuation was the last straw for Arlington, and Kara could see that in his eyes. With a pronounced gesture, his lordship raised his hand in order to strike Kara. But to the slave's immense satisfaction, the blow never landed. In a moment, Constance had moved between Arlington and his target, blocking Kara from view. "Arlington," the police woman warned, her voice sympathetic but stern. "You can't do that. Technically, the girl is in my custody now. If you hit her, it's considered police brutality and I have to report the incident to my supervisor. Then, we'll both be getting flack for it and you'll probably end up with a fine."

"Now, that's interesting," Kara blurted, before she could stop herself. Somehow, the words managed to slip past Kara's lips before her consciousnesses could evaluate them. In fact, they were already out in the open air when Kara comprehended them for the first time. But she hadn't lied. Constance's words were indeed "interesting."

So, Arlington couldn't touch Kara, could he? At least, not while she was under arrest, right? The night was just getting better and better and better, and Kara thought the situation simply sublime. In fact, it was too perfect an opportunity to pass up. With a twisted smile, Kara flipped Arlington off and watched as he rippled aggressively, like a massive dog trapped behind a wire fence. But he did not hit her, though his fists were clenched by his sides and trembling with the need for release.

"Fine!" Arlington spat, a little more loudly than he had intended. And, recognizing the violent nature of his outburst, Arlington took a deep breath and smoothened his features. Only when he had collected himself did Arlington turn back toward the police woman. "Fine," he repeated, with a defeated sigh. "Very well, Constance. I understand that you are caught between a rock and a hard place, so I'll give way. But could you at least set the girl up with Johnson or Bertrond, as a personal favor?"

"I'm not going to waste one of my good interrogators on a conquest slave," Constance snorted, unrelenting. "Both Johnson and Bertrond are fully booked this week, and I'm not going to overload them during a transition period. We've just finished cleaning up in Calihistra, and with Nardia on the radar, the Intelligence Bureau is demanding a progress report every fucking week." Constance then pulled out her smart phone, and began to scroll through a document of some kind. "I can give the girl to Taylor," the woman finally said. "But that's the best I can do. And besides, you'll get your slave back in a week. She doesn't look like she knows much, so we won't hold her long."

But Arlington had stopped listening to Constance a few sentences back. "The intern?" his lordship bristled, aghast. "You're going to give my girl to the intern? As practice?" And he gestured wildly toward Kara. "Constance, the girl is at a very delicate stage in her training, and if I am going to lose her for a whole week, I'd like to have her with someone a little more intimidating. I don't want to reward the girl's behavior with a comfortable week long getaway. I'll lose all of the progress I've made."

"What progress?" Constance question, indicating Kara with condescension in her tone. "Because it looks like the girl has her feet up on your couch, drinking your wine, and smoking your cigars." And Kara, just to emphasize Constance's point, loudly gulped down the rest of the alcohol in her glass. "And I am pretty damn sure she flipped you the bird a few minutes ago. Whatever imaginary progress you think you've made, I doubt it'll be lost in Bremmington. In fact, seeing a slave so poorly trained makes me wonder if I ought to have your Exotic Slaver's License temporarily revoked."

"You can do that?" Kara gasped gleefully, fully enjoying herself. With an excited air, she pointed vigorously toward Arlington, a smile on her lips. "How many times do I have to insult him in front of you, do you think, before we can make that happen? Because I've saved up quite a few good ones." And counting off on her fingers, Kara threw out some of her best. "Overzealous egomaniac. Womanizing bastard. Self-centered control freak. Oh, and fuck wad. That's a classic, of course." God, Kara loved the shade of red coloring Arlington's face. If she ever escaped, she would have to buy curtains in that color, for Arlington's embarrassment was just too damn tasty.

But Constance, temporarily sympathizing with Arlington, finally decided to give his lordship a break. "Look," she relented, sighing into the palm of her hand. "I'm not supposed to do this, but if it'll make you happy, I have a few free rooms available in Cell Block D. Since it's just for a week, I can hold her in there. The lights are on only seven hours a day, and she'll have zero access to the exercise yard. I know it isn't much. After all, the girl helped a captured general escape. But it's the best I can do and in a week, you'll have her back and can deal with the girl in your own way."

Arlington opened his mouth for a moment, as if to argue, but thought better of it. Sitting down in a nearby arm chair to think, his lordship carefully considered Constance's offer, before finally nodding. His face was unusually solemn, but betrayed a begrudging acceptance. "Very well, Constance. Thank you," Lord Arlington relented, standing up and heading for the door. "Now, get the girl out of my sight. I believe you know the way out." Then, Lord Arlington left with a sweep of his autumn cloak.

"Alright, girl," Constance sighed. And, turning away from the door, the police woman stepped pointedly toward Kara. As she did so, Constance detached a set of metal cuffs from about her waist, which clanked sinisterly in her hands. God, the woman was intimidating. With her confident aura and piercing gaze, Constance reminded Kara of a hawk. "Fun time is over," the woman continued, opening up the cuffs. "I don't want any trouble, girl. I had to get up in the middle of the goddamn night to deal with your sorry ass, and I am not happy about it. So, why don't you give me your wrists and we can be on our way. Any fighting on your part, and I am authorized to use injurious force."

But Kara needed no prodding. She was eager to finally be free of Lord Arlington's manor, even if that meant being led away in restraints. And so, immediately, Kara stood to her feet and held out her wrists. Constance was definitely surprised by the sudden complacency, but hesitated for only a moment. Then, with little ceremony, she snapped the cuffs onto Kara, almost clipping her skin in the process. The metal felt cold against Kara's hot flesh, but she found the coolness oddly comforting. In fact, the weight and the bite of the cuffs gave Kara a sense of security. After all, they were the rebellious slave's ticket out of the hell hole she'd been forced to call home.

Outside, it was cold. Autumn was briskly coming to an end, and winter wasn't far behind. Kara had hoped to see stars, but the night was overcast with dark clouds, and not even the moon was visible. There was just darkness, uninviting and cruel. In fact, the only light came from the headlights of a grey prison van, parked outside of Lord Arlington's manor. The back end was opened, revealing a tiny cell with a bench, and Kara was pushed inside.

The ride to Bremmington, a military prison in Capital City, was uneventful and unexciting. There were no windows in the van, from which Kara could see out into the world. And even if there had been, there wasn't much to see. At six in the morning, most of Isleydor's citizens were only now waking up, if they were waking up at all, and the streets were virtually empty.

When Kara finally arrived at Bremmington, she was promptly processed. Her handling was both rough and unceremonious, making Kara feel an awful lot like cattle. The poor slave was immediately stripped of her clothes, hosed down, and dressed in dark green prison clothes, just a thin shirt and a pair of pants. Prisoners weren't allowed any shoes or undergarments either, so Kara was constantly cold, especially her feet. The concrete of the building's floors sapped the heat right out of them, so that Kara was always hopping from one foot to the other. Eventually, though, the exercise became tiring and she gave up, allowing her feet to grow cold and then numb.

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byHisPet21© 52 comments/ 81967 views/ 52 favorites

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