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CHAPTER 21: SHIFTS
Rose looked worriedly from Mariah to Master Gabriel to Master Animal. All three sat silently glowering at their dinner plates. Gabriel nudged his untasted food with his fork, and then abruptly slammed the utensil down on the table. He stood, almost overturning his chair. As he righted it, he said tightly, “Thank you, Rose. Dinner was delicious.” He started toward the patio door.
Animal cleared his throat. “Yes, thank you, Rose,” he said. “It was very good. Especially the . . . ” He looked down at his laden plate. “. . . beets.”
Gabriel stopped in his tracks and turned. He, Rose, and Mariah stared at Animal, who warded off their looks with his hands and said, “What? I like the color,” he said.
“It’s carmine,” Rose whispered, her face almost the color of the beets in question.
Animal blinked. “That’s what I was thinking,” he said. “Too bright for burgundy.” He tasted one of the vegetables. “It is good.”
Rose, her face even hotter than before, managed to whisper, “I’m glad you like it, Master.” She tried to meet his eye but could not bring herself to look higher than his chest.
Animal, though, had turned his attention to Gabriel. “Sit,” he said gruffly, gesturing with his fork towards his friend’s empty chair. “You’ve barely eaten. You need your strength to heal all the warted ladies tomorrow.”
Gabriel nodded at him with a slight smile. “I guess I could try those beets,” he said. He glanced over at Mariah, to include her in the lightened mood, but she had returned to glowering at her plate and did not notice.
***
Mariah made her way back to the dais. She walked bow-legged to keep her upper thighs from touching – which, she was sure, would be enough to cause her a forbidden orgasm. The longing for it was a sharp pain, centered in her clit and radiating outward. She gritted her teeth.
When she reached Mistress Corinne, the woman looked at her with distaste. “Go clean your face,” she ordered. “You’re covered with filth.”
Mariah forced her eyes to stay down but open, and to let no part of her shocked anger show on her face or in her posture. Of course she was dirty. At her mistress’s orders she had just pleasured five cunts. She managed to say evenly, “Yes, mistress,” and hurried to the washroom.
She washed her face and swished her mouth with water to rinse out the taste of the slavegirls. Raising her head from the sink, sharp green eyes peered back at her from the mirror on the wall. Although she was well-groomed – her mistress insisted upon that – she had lost most of her tan from the fields, and her skin was sallow, especially against her dark brown hair. Did her misery show in her face? Did defiance? Or the interminable longings of her body? She sighed. Only if anyone cared to look. And as her mistress chose to keep her working at the exchange rather than offering her to another human, she expected no one would.
When Mariah returned to the dais her mistress’s back was towards her. She was speaking with another human, tall, blue eyed, brown hair starting towards gray. Mistress Dominique was her name. Mariah had seen her a few times before, but wasn’t sure if she came to the exchange to pass the time with Mistress Corinne or to look for new slaves.
Mistress Dominique glanced at Mariah as she kneeled, knees carefully spread, hands behind her head, eyes down. “Isn’t that the one Jonas dropped off a while back?” she asked, surprised. “With all the fuss?”
Mistress Corinne glanced absent-mindedly at Mariah and nodded. “Mmm-hmmm,” she said.
“Why is she still here?” Mistress Dominique asked. “You surely aren’t keeping her for yourself.”
“No, of course not,” Mistress Corinne said, offended. “But I think Jonas might have been right – she’s only good as a torture cunt. I don’t want to put her on display until I’m sure what to do with her.”
Mistress Dominique raised her left eyebrow. “She looks biddable enough to me.”
Mistress Corinne shook her head. “Looks can be deceiving. In the weeks that she’s been here I’ve let her have no satisfaction. She hasn’t broken down once.” Mistress Corinne pulled the back of Mariah’s hair, forcing her face up. “She’s just finished pleasuring a group of cunts, and look at her, kneeling as calmly as if she hasn’t a care in the world. She’s either touching herself, or she’s entirely unnatural.”
Mariah felt as though the room was spinning. Her struggle to show Mistress Corinne that she could be trusted, that she was obedient and worthy . . . and it was all a mindgame.
Rage. Swallowed quickly.
But Mistress Dominique had seen. “Stand up,” she ordered. “Standard position.”
Mistress Corinne released her grip on Mariah, and she rose to her feet, her eyes down, her knees spread, her hands behind her head.
“She’s dripping,” Mistress Dominique said, pointing to a Mariah’s crotch. She walked over to her. “Look at me,” she ordered.
Mariah didn’t want to. She didn’t want Mistress Dominique to see the angry tears that had formed in her eyes, the surge of hatred she felt towards Mistress Corinne, worse than anything she had felt towards Master Jonas. But she had no choice. Biting her cheeks to control herself as best she could, she looked at Mistress Dominique.
Mistress Dominique tsked. “Poor thing,” she said. “You’ve been so good, and no one’s noticed.” Mariah’s throat tightened until it ached as much as her cunt, and her eyes burned. “Would you like to leave here with me?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Mariah whispered.
“Can you be good for me for just a few more minutes?” Mistress Dominique asked.
The part of Mariah’s mind that could be rationale knew this was another mindgame. And yet . . . the possibility of getting away from Mistress Corinne . . . she hated her. “I’ll try, Mistress,” Mariah answered.
“Hands at your sides, then,” Mistress Dominique said. As Mariah obeyed, Mistress Dominique walked behind her and pressed Mariah’s back against her own front. She reached her hand around, under Mariah’s arm, pressing her forearm firmly against Mariah’s hip and abdomen. With her forefinger she gently touched Mariah’s clitoris.
Mariah tried to step back, but Mistress Dominique was there, holding her firm. The mistress didn’t move her finger as she asked, “A good slave would never come without permission, would she?”
“No, mistress,” Mariah said, but she could already feel the blood rushing.
“You just need to be good for a few minutes,” Mistress Dominique said, as she began to slide her finger up and down Mariah’s slit. “Then you can leave with me.”
Mariah closed her eyes. She tried to block out the sensations, but she couldn’t. She balled her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her flesh. It didn’t help.
Mistress Dominique moved her finger back up to Mariah’s clit and circled it. Mariah cried out, “Please, Mistress, I won’t be able to stop it. Please, no . . . ” But Mistress Dominique continued.
“Mistress, I’m going to come. I can’t help it, please . . .” Mistress Dominique moved her finger back down Mariah’s slit, giving Mariah relief for a moment. But almost immediately she returned to Mariah’s clitoris, returned to slow firm circles around it.
Mariah fought with everything she could. She bit her cheeks and shook her head from side to side. She tried to think of something far away, the fields, Rolanda, the rabbit. But it was no good.
Mistress Dominique brought her other hand around and put it on the fleshy area just above Mariah’s clit, pushing down on it so that Mariah’s clit was pushed into her circling finger. “Gaah,” Mariah groaned, shaking her head. “No. . . No . . . No . . . ”, but the explosion overtook her. Mistress Dominique kept pushing down with her left hand and circling Mariah’s clit with her right index finger. Mariah’s orgasm went on and on. When at last it quieted, Mariah dropped to her knees, crying.
“Let me have her,” Mistress Dominique said to Mistress Corinne. “I can work with her.”
***
Mariah woke the next morning earlier than usual. When she opened the door from her sleeping room she saw Rose in intense concentration, cutting flowers and placing them by their stems in a large sponge. As Mariah watched she picked the sponge up, held it at eye level, turned it around, put it down, rearranged the flowers so slightly that Mariah could detect no difference, and then did it again.
Rose only noticed Mariah when she started across the living room towards the kitchen. She shook her head, changing focus, and said, with only slightly excessive cheerfulness, “Good morning. Would you like me to get you some food?”
Mariah scowled at her. “Don’t you have something to do for your master?” she asked.
Rose answered, “Master Gabriel asked me to keep you company this morning.”
“I don’t want your company,” Mariah said.
At the look on Rose’s face, Mariah felt suddenly ashamed, as if she had pulled a kitten’s tail. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t want you thinking that we can be friends.”
“Oh,” Rose said softly, turning away. Mariah watched her gather up the extra stems and leaves and put them in the trash can, and place the display she had created, riotous with color, in the middle of the table. And then she wiped her eyes, quickly, as if she hoped Mariah would not notice.
The girl was so young. And there was something about her – not innocence, but something like it -- that made Mariah feel mean for keeping her distance. Almost to herself she said, “Don’t you know what will happen when this mindgame is over?” Rose shook her head, and Mariah realized she had spoken out loud. Hardening herself, she said, “They’ll make me hurt you.”
She paused, then added fiercely, “They’ll make me take pleasure in hurting you.” She turned away from Rose, blinking rapidly, and stared out the window into the quiet courtyard. “It will be worse if . . . ” She trailed off.
Rose came up to her and laid her hand on Mariah’s forearm. “If that happens,” she said, “I’ll forgive you.”
Mariah jerked her arm away from Rose and took a step away. “Why are you nice to me?” she hissed. “I’ve given you no reason.”
Rose was surprised into saying, “Of course you have.”
“No.” Mariah folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “I’ve ignored you and sneered at you, nothing else.”
“Not always,” Rose said. When Mariah looked confused she said, “Do you remember when you first woke up, after you were hurt? I gave you soup and you threw it because it wasn’t gruel.” Mariah nodded. She vaguely recalled that through the haze of pain she had felt at the time. “The bowl broke,” Rose continued. “And when Master Gabriel came, you said you should be punished, not me.”
“You hadn’t done anything wrong,” Mariah said.
“Yes, I had,” Rose said earnestly. “I hadn’t warned you the food wasn’t gruel. It scared you. And you . . . you had just woken up, and were in pain, and you didn’t know where you were, and you didn’t know that Master Gabriel was an outlander, . . . and you tried to protect me.”
“That’s nothing,” Mariah said flatly. “Slaves help each other.”
Rose shook her head and laughed a little. “Are you that naïve?” she asked. She turned away abruptly, after a moment changing direction towards the kitchen. She returned with a bowl and a spoon, which she placed on the table. Gesturing for Mariah to sit in front of them, she sat down as well. Finally she took a deep breath, expelled it, and said, “I only had a couple of assignments before Master Animal chose me. The one right before was with a family, a large one. It should have been a good assignment, because there were four of us slaves there. But . . .” Rose looked away.
“Not all slaves work well together,” Mariah shrugged.
Rose sniffled. “I’ll tell you what it was like, but you have to eat.” Mariah picked up her spoon indifferently, barely recognizing the slave gruel that Gabriel had determined she and Rose should continue to have for breakfast. It tasted much better flavored by Rose with cinnamon and nutmeg and honey.
Rose took another deep breath. “They . . . the other slaves, I mean . . . they had been with each other for a long time, and when I came . . . they were a group, and I wasn’t one of them. They made me do all the work. All the cleaning, all the cooking, everything, for eight humans and the four of us.” Her voice broke.
“If the work was too much for me, they would tell the master and mistress that they had done their share and I hadn’t, and I would be punished. They would secretly watch and laugh. Sometimes they would do things – tip over the trash, put food back in the oven so it would burn -- just so they could watch me get in trouble.”
Rose put her head down on her arms, crying. After a minute she looked up, her cheeks wet and blotchy. “It wasn’t just in the apartment,” she said. “I had a bracelet, everyone nearby – even the neighboring slaves – knew they could do whatever they wanted to me.”
She looked Mariah in the eye, and Mariah found she could not look away. “The hall monitor wouldn’t let me use the washing machine unless I let him buttfuck me. Dry. Every week.” Her said with a bitter little laugh, “I was a slave’s slave.”
“I . . . “ Mariah began. She didn’t know what to say.
“And you say slaves help each other? No!” Rose interrupted her, fiercely. “You helped me when you thought Master Gabriel might torture or kill you for it. You can deny it, but I know you’re brave and you’re good! And if I want to be nice to you, well . . . you don’t have to be my friend, but you can’t stop me.”
Mariah was just staring at Rose, overwhelmed by her story. “I’m sorry,” she said to Rose, not sure if she was apologizing for her own behavior or for that of the slaves Rose had lived with.
“Don’t pity me,” Rose said, her voice still hoarse. “Belonging to Master Animal after that . . . well, I don’t think I would appreciate how lucky I am if I hadn’t been through it.”
She and Mariah sat in silence for a few minutes. Mariah was embarrassed for obsessing over Master Gabriel’s refusal to fuck her. How easy it was to forget that in this mindgame she had safety, food, as much freedom as her bracelet could grant.
“Why did that family send you back to the Exchange?” Mariah asked finally.
“They didn’t,” Rose said. “Master Animal asked for me.”
Mariah raised her eyebrows in surprise. Rose continued, “He was painting a portrait of them. One day, in the early morning, I couldn’t help myself. I snuck over and looked at his canvass. Master Animal let himself into the apartment just then, and saw me. I was scared, but I hadn’t touched anything and he didn’t seem to mind. After that he would talk to me sometimes, when he was setting up and no one else was around.
“When the portrait was done Master John and Mistress Rafaela threw a big unveiling party for it. It was practically a revel. I prepared for it all day and served all night, and after everyone left it was my job to clean up. By the early afternoon I was so tired I sat down, just for a minute. Master John saw me. The other slaves claimed they had been working all morning to clean up and I had done nothing.
“To punish me, my master cuffed my hands behind my back. He put nipple clamps on me and attached the chain to the ceiling.” At Mariah’s look she said, “It wasn’t that bad, really. The chain was loose enough that I could stand with my feet flat. But I was so tired that I was afraid that I would fall asleep and my nipples would be torn off.” She shuddered.
“Master Animal came in then, to get some supplies he had left behind. Master John said if there was ever anything he could do for him, Master Animal should let him know. And that’s when Master Animal said he wanted me.” She smiled at the memory. “When he released me from the clamps I collapsed into his arms. He had to carry me home.”
“He has good taste,” Mariah said, the compliment making her voice rough.
Rose shook her head. “I’m not his taste, “ she said. “I think he just felt sorry for me.”
“Why would you think that?” Mariah asked. “He likes you well enough.”
Rose shrugged. “People are always surprised to see me with him,” she said. “Raul – he’s the hall monitor here – says all his other cunts were tall blondes with big boobs and . . .”
“Stupid?” Mariah asked.
Rose nodded and blushed a little. “That’s what Raul says. If Master Gabriel hadn’t come along, I’m sure he would have traded me in long since.”
“I don’t think so,” Mariah said slowly. “Yesterday, I tried to . . . I tried to get him to fuck me. I surprised him when he was napping. And he wouldn’t . . . he said he only fucks you.”
Rose stared at her silently, and Mariah realized suddenly what she had said, and done. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you have unnatural feelings for him. I wasn’t thinking of you when . . .”
But Rose smiled. “He said he only fucks me?” she asked.
Mariah nodded, and Rose’s smile deepened.
They sat quietly for a few minutes while Mariah finished her gruel. Then she looked at Rose. “That time with the bowl of soup . . . You defended me too. You said it wasn’t my fault.”
Rose shook her head. “That was different,” she said. “I knew Master Animal and Master Gabriel. I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. You didn’t know them.”
She stood up and started to clear Mariah’s bowl. Mariah stopped her. “You don’t have to do that for me,” she said. “I don’t want . . .”
Rose said with an impish smile, “Friends help each other.”
Mariah didn’t contradict her.
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