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Chapter 22: Entrances and Exits
"Let me have her," Mistress Dominique said to Mistress Corinne. "I can work with her."
On her knees, wrung out from her orgasm, Mariah allowed herself to wipe her eyes, to feel a glimmer of hope, to say, "Thank you, Mistress."
"Tut," Mistress Dominique responded. "It’s nothing personal. I don’t like waste, is all."
"Surely you won’t take her without punishing her?" Mistress Corinne said.
Mistress Dominique laughed. "Oh, she’ll miss you soon enough, I promise you."
***
Mariah followed Rose to the kitchen, not sure what to do with herself. She watched Rose rinse her dishes, and dry them, and put them away. Finally she asked, "What do you usually do in the mornings? Not even you can spend all your time cleaning Master Animal’s apartment."
Realizing how disdainful her question sounded, she crossed her arms and raised her chin. But Rose answered, earnestly as always, "Master Animal usually sends me to the exercise yard in the morning. After I’m groomed, I meet him at the revel room where he’s painting his mural."
"You mean that big picture on a wall that everyone keeps talking about?" Mariah asked.
Rose’s nodded. "Would you like to come see it? Master Animal won’t mind, and Master Gabriel said you could walk with me, if you like."
She looked down, shy, and Mariah understood how much Rose wanted to go. But she scowled. "With you, he said? If he doesn’t want me walking around on my own, he shouldn’t have given me a bracelet."
Rose asked, "Should he take it away, then?"
Mariah blinked and gave in with a surly shrug. The slightest shadow of smile crossed Rose’s lips.
***
Although Mariah had been in the corridors of the mansion only twice before, she paid little attention to them as she hurried to keep up with Mistress Dominique. Her body was still sluggish, still covered with a sheen of sweat. She struggled to think. What would her punishment be? Could it be worse than how Master Jonas had terrorized her?
Mistress Dominique led her through a door, and to her surprise Mariah suddenly found herself outside, not in a courtyard but outside the mansion. Her eyes sought the horizon, which she had not seen since she left the fields. It was a cloudy day, but a ray of sun broke through, visible on its way down to the grass. Suddenly Mariah was no longer afraid. She had no power over her punishment; just as she did not deserve it, she could do nothing to stop it.
Not this time.
She was outside the mansion, now, but there was another outside – outside the walls. How had Rolanda managed it? Surely she hadn’t been led there as Mariah had been led through a door to the open air.
Noticing that Mariah had slowed her pace, Mistress Dominique snapped her fingers, and Mariah hastened to catch up. But as she did so she looked around, memorizing where the door had been, what was behind it, what lay ahead.
***
Mariah blinked in surprise as she and Rose entered the revel room. She had assumed Animal would be alone, painting on a wall. But instead he was standing on a dais on the far side of the room, a group of people standing in a semi-circle in front of him. He was pointing with a clean, dry paintbrush to various parts of a painting on an easel next to him, talking animatedly.
Rose clutched Mariah’s arm. "He’s teaching," she said. "Let’s go listen." She pulled Mariah with her across the room to the edge of the group. No one took any note of them.
Mariah thought the picture on the canvass was odd. It was just dots and shapes and squiggles, as far as she could tell. Animal reached his hand out to a man in the group, who stepped up and took a bow, to applause. Someone called out a question about his pigments, and most of the others wandered off. Mariah glanced over at Rose, whose eyes were shining. "Isn’t it amazing?" she whispered to Mariah.
As the man took his picture off the easel, Animal noticed Rose and Mariah. "Good, you’re here," he said to Rose. "Fetch a jug of the linseed oil. I’ll need you to mix some more burnt sienna."
"Yes, Master," Rose said. "Would it be all right if Mariah helps me?"
Animal had turned away, but he snapped back to them. "No!" he said. "I won’t have my paints sabotaged." He glowered as Rose stood awkwardly for a moment.
Mariah nudged her. "Go. Do your master’s bidding." Rose, looking upset, walked towards the storage closet.
Mariah looked deliberately at Animal, and then fell to her knees in front of him.
Animal sighed impatiently. "Stand up. Gabriel wouldn’t want you down there."
Mariah ignored his order. "This slave begs your permission to speak," she said.
Animal crossed his arms and eyed her suspiciously. "What is it?"
Mariah cleared her throat. "I want you to know that what I did yesterday . . . " she looked Animal in the eye. "I’ll never do it again."
"I know you won’t," Animal responded, his voice hard. "I meant what I said. If you do . . . " His hand went to his whip.
"That has nothing to do with it," she snapped. Then she took a deep breath. "It’s just . . . I’m sorry." She glared and blushed at the same time.
Animal eyed her suspiciously, caressing the handle of his whip. "What are you up to?" he asked.
"Nothing," Mariah said. She raised her chin and added, "Master." Her face was defiant, but she was sucking in her cheeks. Even so, her lower lip was trembling slightly.
Animal slowly let go of his whip handle. He sighed. "Okay," he said. "But you’re still not mixing my pigments."
Mariah stood up. "I would never want to." She and Animal eyed each other. Suddenly Animal flashed a grin, and Mariah smiled slightly in response before looking away.
Rose walked up staggering under the weight of a glass jug filled with liquid. She placed it on the edge of the dais. "May I show Mariah the room, Master?" she asked. "She won’t touch anything, I promise."
Animal looked at her dolefully. "All right," he said. "But don’t take too long. I need those pigments mixed."
"Thank you, my lord," Rose said. Mariah accepted her hand and allowed herself to be led away. Animal stared after them, bemused.
***
Mistress Dominique’s training center was a large room divided into sections, like an overgrown apartment. There were several kitchen areas and as many living room and bedroom areas, but no walls between the spaces.
About twenty slaves, all young like Mariah, were scattered throughout the center, cooking and cleaning. A mistress who resembled Mistress Dominique but was much younger – about the same age as the slaves – lounged on one of the couches while a slave dick massaged her feet.
Mistress Dominique approached that area and clapped her hands twice. The slaves put down what they were doing and hurried to her. One by one they fell to their knees. Mariah stood awkwardly, not sure what was expected of her.
Mistress Dominique pulled Mariah forward. Without introduction she said, "This cunt orgasmed without permission." A murmur rose among the kneeling slaves, along with Mariah’s fear. "Her punishment will begin now."
She led Mariah to a plush red armless chair, and sat down in it. "Over my knees," she said to Mariah. Mariah, unsure of what she meant, did not react immediately. Mistress Dominique pulled Mariah so that she was lying with her stomach on Mistress’ Dominique’s thighs, her hands dangling uselessly in front of her. Mistress Dominique grabbed her hair and pulled her forward a few inches. Mariah felt nauseous with her head hung so low.
Mistress Dominique smacked Mariah’s butt with her palm. It stung, but was nothing compared to the whip. Mistress Dominique struck her again, in exactly the same spot. Then again, and again, and again. On the fifth hit Mariah gasped. It still wasn’t as bad as the whip but it hurt.
Mistress Dominique moved her hand lower, to the crease between Mariah’s butt and her thigh, and hit her there until Mariah whimpered.
A harder smack made Mariah grunt. Mistress Dominique began to hit her rapidly all over her rear end.
Mariah had been smacked before, on the face, on the butt. But she had never been spanked before, not like this, drawn out, deliberate, terrible. It was so much more personal than the whip, her mistress aware of every squirm and sound. With the whip she could hide inside her head, but that was impossible now. Even worse, she could feel the warmth, the movement of her mistress’s thighs beneath her, of her stomach at her side. This was a person who was hurting her, not a disembodied strip of leather.
"Spread you legs," her mistress ordered Mariah. Mariah obeyed. She felt the inevitable fingering of her asshole, her mistress pushing her finger only so slightly into her. Of course Master Jonas had broken her in there, but this was different. The surcease from the spanking combined with her Mistress’s gentle teasing made Mariah’s cunt gush.
Mistress Dominique continued to finger her for a few minutes. Mariah tried to block out the sensation. Mistress Dominique pulled her head up by her hair and said to her, "Look at them." She was forced to look at the kneeling slaves who watched her, some mockingly, some pityingly, some merely bored. Her eyes stung.
Mistress Dominique returned to spanking her. The blows were not harder than before but they hurt much more. Every smack reverberated inside her, in her brain, in her cunt. With each blow she grunted, making a steady "uh uh uh" sound.
Mistress Dominique returned to her butthole, gently pushing her finger all the way in before Mariah was even aware that she had stopped spanking her again. Mariah was so aroused, it was as if her mistress were fingering her cunt, not her ass. And then she was fingering her cunt. Mistress Dominique pulled her finger slowly out of Mariah’s butt and traced a slow path to her sex. She entered Mariah’s vagina ever so slightly, but then pulled out.
The spanking began again. Although Mistress Dominique used only her hand, every blow felt like a paddle. Mariah’s soft grunts changed to groans. The slaves in front of her swam in her tears. It was awful. It went on and on.
Now her groans turned to half screams. And then Mistress Dominique was pushing her finger into Mariah’s vagina again. By the time Mariah stopped screaming she was gasping. Mistress Dominique withdrew her finger, and this time trailed it lower still, to her slit.
Mariah held herself rigid. Surely Mistress Dominique would not touch her clit. She could not. She must not.
"Naughty," Mistress Dominique said to her. "In the midst of punishment, you just want to come, don’t you?"
Mariah could only groan.
"Answer me," Mistress Dominique said, and she did touch Mariah’s clit, but so lightly, like the tip of a feather. "Yes, mistress," Mariah said, and her voice was a squeak. If only she could close her legs.
Then Mistress Dominique was spanking her again, and then she was touching her again. The pain, the pleasure. She must not come, she could not.
Mistress Dominique was stroking her slit, her pubes, her lips. And even though she had not touched her clit again, Mariah could feel the orgasm building.
And then Mistress Dominique pulled her hand away. Mariah tried to brace herself for the spanking, but it did not come. Instead, Mistress Dominique merely rested her hand on Mariah’s ass. That alone burned. The sensation traveled from her buttocks to her sex. Mariah wondered if it was possible to come from no more.
"You came before without permission," Mistress Dominique said. "Are you going to do it again?"
"I’m trying not to, Mistress," Mariah said, desperately.
"Mmm, I see that," Mistress Dominique said. "Stand up."
It was so unexpected Mariah thought she must have misheard. Mistress Dominique slapped her bruised ass once. "I said, stand up," she repeated. Mariah scrambled up, so quickly that she felt dizzy and had to steady herself on the back of her mistress’s chair.
"Thank me," Mistress Dominique said.
Mariah fell to her knees. "This slave humbly thanks you for spanking her," Mariah said, careful to keep her legs spread wide.
"Beg me to allow you to come," Mistress Dominique said.
"Mistress, please, let me come," Mariah said, and she placed her forehead on the floor and inched to her mistress’s feet to kiss them.
"Very well," Mistress Dominique said. "Follow me."
Mariah stood up again, more slowly than before, trying to remember to breathe, trying to remember to keep her feet wide. Mistress Dominique was walking past the slaves on the floor to the far corner of the room. There was a large block of wood there, its height slightly lower than Mariah’s waist. It was wide at the bottom and tapered to the top so that the top edge was only a dull line about a quarter inch wide.
"Hands behind your head," Mistress Dominique said. Mariah obeyed, assuming the standard position.
"Mount it," Mistress Dominique said. "As soon as you do, you can come."
Mariah stood uncertainly. Was she supposed to jump on? But Mistress Mariah led her by the elbow to the side of the slab. "Just straddle it," she said. Mariah lifted her left leg, award of how grotesque she looked, and slid it over one side, until the top edge of the wood was scraping her inner thigh. Then she was stuck.
Mistress Dominique snapped her fingers, and a slave came over. To Mariah’s horror, he lifted her by the waist and set her down so that her crotch was on the thin top edge of the wood. "Lean forward," he whispered to her, and then her clit was pressing into the wood, and she came, struggling not to topple over. And then all of her weight was on her clit, and the orgasm ended, and there was only bruising pain.
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