Mind Games

CHAPTER 14: Inside and out

       The next morning, as he had promised, Master Gabriel taught Mariah breathing exercises, and movements to strengthen her injured arm.  Mariah was exhausted afterwards and fell asleep for several hours.  When she awoke, Rose was sitting cross-legged on the floor, shelling a large pile of peas.  With a quiet smile she cleaned up, and then offered to help Mariah take a bath.

       Mariah did not admit to Rose that, except for the old metal tub in the cornfield, filled by bucket, she had never taken a bath before.  Most masters and mistresses would require that their houseslaves take a very quick shower periodically, but a bath was a luxury for favored pets. 

       Rose filled the tub and Mariah stepped in and sank down into the water.  Its warmth stung her cuts at first, but she ignored the discomfort, soaping every inch she could reach, and, to protect her elbow, allowing Rose to wash and rinse her hair.  Mariah realized that the atrocious itchiness she been suffering was not just her wounds healing, but the filth that covered her body.  The bathwater was gray.  Rose giggled, drained and refilled the bath, and they started the process over again.  Mariah's skin, in those places where it was neither burned nor bruised nor cut, had a pinkish tinge.

       Rose, sitting on the edge of the tub with her feet in the water, started to wash Mariah’s upper back with a washcloth.  Mariah closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasant, relaxing sensation.  Suddenly she started and in a quick movement pivoted and grabbed Rose’s wrist. She stared at her, hard.  “What have they done to me?”  she demanded.

     

      “N... nothing,” said Rose.  “Th. . . They saved your life.”

     

      Mariah narrowed her eyes.  “What are they saving me for?” she asked.  She leaned toward Rose.  “Why don’t I want to fuck you?”

     

       “I don’t know,” Rose said.  “I’m just a rag.”  

      

      Mariah loosened her hold on Rose’s wrist but did not let go.  “That’s not what I meant,” she said.  “The way you were washing me . . .  I should be burning.  But I’m not.  Not for you.  Not for Master Gabriel or Master Animal.  It’s like I woke up and I’m back on the farm, not broken in.”  She placed her hands deliberately on Rose’s knees and pushed them apart, and looked at her crotch.  “And you’re not even wet,” she said. 

     

      Rose looked nervously at Mariah’s hands, still on her knees, but didn’t remove them.  “It’s the gruel,” she said softly. 

     

      “The gruel?” Mariah asked.   “Master Animal told me that you don’t even eat it.”

     

      “I don’t, mostly.” Rose said.  “And neither did you, when you were unconscious.  You’ve only been back on gruel for a few days, and you’re not eating much.  Not enough to make you burn.”

       Mariah thought about this.  Of course she had known for a long time that it was the gruel that made slaves crave sex, sometimes to the exclusion of all other cravings.  It would make sense that if she stopped eating it those urges would go away. 

       To Rose’s relief, Mariah took her hands off her knees.  “Are you dried up?” Mariah asked her. 

       Rose didn’t answer for a minute.  “In a way,” she said at last.  “I don’t look at a cucumber anymore and wish I dared to put it inside me, to get some relief.  And I don’t cry because maybe I’ll never be allowed to come again.  But when I think about having sex with Master Animal . . .” She blushed.  “I’m not dried up, no.”

       “Does he fuck you?” Mariah asked.  “Or is he too much of a pansy for that?”

        “Every night,’ Rose said solemnly.  “We both come once and then he goes to sleep.”

       “You come every night?” Mariah asked disbelievingly.

       Rose nodded.  “Sometimes he eats me,” she said.

       Mariah stared at her in open astonishment.  She had heard of pansy masters, but this was too much. Master Animal must have unnatural feelings for Rose. 

      She remembered the promise she had made to herself, to spread the truth among as many slaves as she could, to start with Rose, to curdle Master Animal’s sweet cream.  How much more effective it would be if he thought he cared for her. As Mariah started to stand up, she said, "I want to tell you something."

       Rose tsked softly.  "First we'll dry you off and get you into bed," she said.  "Master Gabriel says that even little things will wear you out."  Rose's voice was gentle and sweet as ever, but there was a firmness in it that made Mariah obey.  She didn't protest as Rose toweled her dry and led her back to the bed. Once Rose was satisfied that Mariah was well-settled, she began combing out her hair again, and said, "What did you want to tell me?"

       Mariah said nothing for a time.  Was Rose part of the mindgame?  A slave-spy, who would repeat every word to her masters?  Almost certainly.  The girl had no spirit with which to rebel or refuse to be used against her own kind.  Nevertheless, she had to try to reach her, to spoil her for her master.  The worst that would happen is that the mindgame would end sooner. 

       Mariah tried to remember what Rolanda had told her, so long ago, when she hadn't wanted to hear it.  Was there ever a time when she was as young and sweet as Rose was now?  She took a breath, calming herself.  "Did they tell you why I was being punished?" she asked.

       "Shsh," Rose said.  "We don't need to talk about that."

       Mariah yanked her hair out of Rose's grasp and turned to look at her.  "Answer me," she said fiercely.  "Did they tell you?"

       Rose started back, her scared look returning.  "Yes," she said, not meeting Mariah’s eyes.

       Mariah leaned closer to Rose, blocking Rose's fear out of her mind.  "It was because I was outside the gates.  I escaped, and I was free."

       "I know," Rose whispered, trembling.

       Mariah grabbed Roses' bicep with her good hand.  "Whatever they told you about me, it was a lie," she said. "I was free!"

       "I know," Rose whispered again, ashen-faced. 

       

       Mariah went in for the kill.  "You could escape, too," she said.  "You could be free."

       A derisive snort came from the doorway. "Free to die," Animal said.  "Free to starve to death while you ponder which berries are poison.  Free to bleed to death when you fall from a tree you climbed to escape the packs of wolves.  Free to contract dysentery from drinking the wrong water.  And," he added, entering the room, "That's assuming you beat the five hours it took the sage Mariah to get caught by the hunters so they could exquisitely torture her."

       Mariah flung Rose away from her, trembling with rage.  "It is no worse to be tortured in the field by the hunters for a few days than to be tortured every day in the mansion, from one mind game to another! The difference in lifespan is only a few years."

       To Mariah's chagrin, Animal laughed.  "I doubt you'll find a convert in Rose," he said.  "She has sense enough to know when she's well off."

       Mariah looked over at Rose, who sat at the head of the bed, her back to the wall, frozen.  Mariah jeered, at her, “So you've found yourself a pansy master who can't be bothered to whip you.  How long do you think he'll keep you?  A few more months, if you're lucky?  And then it'll be back to the exchange.  Do you think your next master or mistress will be as kind?  Or will you get someone who likes the ones who cry easily?"

       As if on cue Rose's eyes filled with tears and Mariah turned to give Animal a triumphant look.  She stopped cold when she saw the whip in his hand, his arm raised.  Then she said, "Go ahead.  Show Rose what a kind, merciful master you are." 

       Animal lowered his arm.  "Go fix dinner, Rose," he said, not taking his eyes off Mariah. 

       Rose was crying in earnest now.  "Please, master, don't hurt her," she pleaded as she stood to obey his order. 

         "Shsh," Animal said.  "I won't."  Rose stumbled from the room.  Animal continued to look disdainfully at Mariah for a few moments, before he turned and followed Rose out of the room, firmly closing the door behind him.

       

CHAPTER:  Never by choice

       Master Jonas tied Mariah back into her cot and left her.  While he was gone Mariah had time to think. Was this the mindgame Rolanda had told her of?  It was clear to her that Shinelle had set her up, perhaps by prearrangement with Master Jonas, and that she had taken pleasure in it. The episode with the dog had been scary when she was not sure if she would suffocate, and the ticklish pleasure in her cunt from Shinelle licking her there had added to her torture. 

      And for what reason? “To humiliate me,” Mariah thought.  “And yet, I am not humiliated.  I did nothing wrong.”  She thought again of her cohort torturing the rabbit  She had stood up to them, stood against her friends, because what they were doing was wrong, and cruel, and needless.

     

      She was the rabbit to Master Jonas, she realized, a victim to be tortured to pass the time.  And she knew that he could easily turn her into a torturer.  She had hurt other slaves at the command of the cornfield masters and mistresses.  Whipped them, pulled out their hair a few hairs at a time, put them in a stockade.  But not by choice.  Never by choice.  She would never be the one to hold the rabbit over the fire, or to idly stand by as others did it.  Not by choice.  And while she would no doubt be forced again to torture other slaves, she would never take a perverse pleasure in it like Shinelle clearly did.  Maybe it had all been prearranged and Shinelle had been compelled by Master Jonas to force Mariah to pee; but Shinelle had enjoyed it, savored it even, and added to it. 

     

      Mariah swore to herself:  whatever Master Jonas would do to her body, no matter how he tortured her or made her cry or shriek or beg, no matter if he forced her to torture other slaves, for her it would never be by choice. 

CHAPTER

       When Mariah's was not left alone again with Rose, she told herself her disappointment was because of the missed opportunity to proselytize freedom.  Another slave, an older cunt named Chilla, occasionally brought her a tray or helped her to the necessary, but was largely uncommunicative.  Mariah gathered that she belonged to a master in a neighboring suite.

       Mariah still slept more than she woke.  When she was awake she meticulously did the exercises Master Gabriel had taught her.  Her arm was almost healed, and, although the breathing and strengthening exercises hurt, she could feel herself getting stronger, mindgame or no.

       One morning Master Gabriel watched her do her exercises, occasionally correcting an angle or encouraging her to do more.  When she finished, Gabriel casually asked her if she would like to go for a walk.  Mariah was surprised by her own eagerness.  She hadn't realized how stir-crazy she was going.

       Mariah leaned on Gabriel for support, staggering.  Crossing the threshold into the living room, she felt an echo of the same surge of joy she had felt when she had run through the gates of Riviera so many weeks ago. 

       Animal sprawled on a couch, pretending disinterest, while Rose, assiduously massaging his feet, only glanced up with a shy smile before looking away.  Mariah let go of Gabriel and took a few steps on her own before she stumbled and had to grab at his arm.  If the others noticed her gasp of pain, they gave no sign.

       Gabriel led her to a strange chair with wheels instead of legs.  He said off-handedly, "I thought it would be more fun for you to walk outside and get some fresh air.  I can wheel you through the corridors so you don't get worn out."  Mariah sank into the chair.  Gabriel stood behind and pushed.  When the wheelchair moved forward Mariah gasped, grabbing at the armrests.  "I'll go slow," Gabriel said encouragingly.

       Gabriel had long since learned the twists and turns of the corridors near his suite, and in only a few minutes had pushed Mariah to the nearest entryway. Just outside the door he helped her to stand up, and put the wheelchair aside.  Mariah turned her face to the sun, soaking it up, breathing the air.  Gabriel helped her down the two or three stairs leading from the door.  Six or seven humans were coming up the walkway towards them, laughing carelessly.  A few had slaves on leashes.

       "Gabriel!" one of them shouted.  "Come entertain us!"  Then the group stopped at once, seeing Mariah.

       "Is that your cunt?" a honey-haired mistress asked after an awkward pause.  Mariah let go her grip on Gabriel and started to fall to her knees.  Gabriel stopped her, putting his arm around her waist.  "This is Mariah," he said. 

       The mistress came forward and looked her up and down.  "Standard position," she ordered. 

       Mariah automatically obeyed her command, raising her hands to the back of her neck.  Shooting pain went through her chest as she did so, and she gasped, and stumbled, falling out of Gabriel's protective encirclement. The mistress raised her whip and flicked it on Mariah's buttocks.  Although the blow wasn't hard, it caused Mariah to fall forward onto her knees, banging them painfully. 

       "Stop it!" Gabriel shouted.  "Leave her alone!"

       The mistress flipped her hair at Gabriel coquettishly.  "Don't tell me you're under her spell," she said.  "She's nothing but a rag."  Mariah felt her face go blank.

       One of the mistress’s companions said, "Not a rag, Darla.  A rescued runaway.  Didn't you hear?  Gabriel plucked her off a cross."  He smirked. 

       Gabriel tried to place himself between Mariah and the group, but Mariah stood up, painfully, on her own.  One of mistresses had a slave dick on a leash.  Mariah looked him straight in the eye.  "That's right," she said.  "I escaped through the gates and I was free. That's why they punished me."  She paused and added, "It was worth it."

       As one, the group of masters and mistresses took out their whips.  The man who had spoken, who was closest to her, growled, "You filthy cunt," and kicked her, hard, in the shin.  Mariah fell over again, landing on her bad arm, and cried out. 

       Gabriel pushed the master away.  "Leave her alone, I tell you," he said, his voice low and calm.  The master saw his face and backed away.  "No harm done," he said, and headed inside, followed by the rest of his group.  The slave dick looked at Mariah as he crawled by.  "Eyes down!" his mistress shouted furiously, kicking him in the balls.  He groaned but continued to crawl.

       Gabriel knelt down by Mariah.  "I'm so sorry," he said.  "Are you okay?"  Mariah refused to look at him, embarrassed by the stinging in her eyes.  Gabriel took her good hand.  "Breathe," he said.  Mariah complied, breathing as deeply as her injured ribs would let her, until she felt the new pain was under control.  Gabriel was still holding her hand.  "You have so much courage you put everyone I know to shame," he said.  Then he added, pulling a strand of hair off her face, "But maybe you could keep the outreach to other slaves down until you're a little stronger."

       Mariah jerked away from his touch and said bitterly, "You won't let me talk to Rose, master.  I need to reach out where I can."

       Gabriel looked at her in confusion.  "Won't let you...  You can say what you like to Rose, surely you must know that."

       Now it was Mariah's turn to be confused.  "You mean they didn't tell you?" 

       "Tell me what?" Gabriel asked.

       "About the other day... What I said to Rose.  And to Master Animal."  When Gabriel shook his head, she added, "But you've kept her away from me since then."

       Gabriel took her hand again and said gently, "There's an old man who lives in the other suite in our quad.  He lapsed into a coma the other day.  Rose is helping to take care of him."  He added, almost petulantly, "If you wanted to see her, you only needed to ask."

       Mariah looked him in the eye, trying to read him, to decipher him.  It seemed such a strange lie to tell.  Was it part of the mindgame? Or an odd, coincidental truth?

       Gabriel smiled ruefully.  "What would happen if you trusted me?" he asked.

       "Torture," Mariah answered automatically.  "Pain.  Death."'

       "Then by all means, don't trust me," Gabriel said.  He stood up.  "You landed on your arm.  Does it hurt?"

       Mariah nodded and Gabriel sighed. He helped her into the wheelchair and wheeled her back through the corridor.  "Maybe Animal can suggest a private place for a walk tomorrow," he said.