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CHAPTER 45: THE NAME'S THE THING
THE CENTRAL MANSION
Amalie's soft-soled sandals made no sound as she walked across the parquet floor of the revel room. She stopped not far from the two girls who were drawing on easels with colored chalk. The picture the darker-haired one was drawing held little interest for her. Depicting a vase of dried flowers floating in the middle of the paper, it contained neither artistry nor metaphor. A mildly talented child could have done better.
As Amalie moved her attention to the other easel, the second girl shook her head. She turned to speak to her friend and saw Amalie out of the corner of her eye. Immediately she fell to her knees. The dark-haired girl followed suit.
"You may stand," Amalie said. As the girls scrambled to their feet Amalie walked closer to the easels. "You're Rose?" she said to the second girl.
Rose nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
"You usually shake," Amalie said. "Don't you fear me anymore?" She sounded genuinely curious.
The other girl clenched her hands into fists, but Rose merely bowed her head and said, "I wish only to serve you, Mistress."
Amalie took her whip off her belt and threw it to the floor several feet away. Both girls followed it with their eyes, but did not move their heads. "Whatever you say to me, I won't punish you," Amalie said. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes, Mistress," Rose said.
"Why don't you fear me? Your master's not here to protect you."
Rose glanced at her friend, who remained expressionless. "You care for my master," Rose said slowly. "You wouldn't harm me for fun because he wouldn't like it."
Amalie considered this, then nodded. "He tells me you care for him too," she said.
"I love him, Mistress."
Amalie watched a blush spread over Rose's face. Once you noticed her the girl was so winsome it made her teeth hurt.
She turned to Rose's easel. "I see he has you started on color."
"Yes, Mistress." Rose sighed without realizing it.
"You prefer black and white?"
"No, Mistress. It's just . . ." She sighed again. "I can't get it right."
Amalie examined the drawing. It wasn't bad, for a beginning effort. The composition itself was strong. "What are you trying to do?" she asked.
"I want to show the sunlight glowing through the petals and the leaves," Rose said. "But whatever I try doesn't work."
Amalie looked back and forth between the flower arrangement and the drawing. "You're seeing with your brain, not with your eyes," she said. "You've used lighter hues of the same color where the light hits the flowers. But at that spot, what color are they actually?"
Rose studied the arrangement. "They're white," she breathed.
Amalie nodded. Before she could say more the door leading outside opened and Animal walked in, huffing, and pulling a cart with a plush red armchair on it. Amalie laughed out loud at the absurd sight.
Animal looked wary when he saw her standing near Rose. "Come to model for me?" he asked.
"No," she said tartly. "To give your girl an art lesson, since you can't be bothered."
Animal started to glower, but Rose smiled at him and he relaxed. Amalie picked up her whip, crossed the room and hugged Animal briefly. Then she stood back and took a deep breath. "I talked to my triplets," she said.
Animal slowly wheeled the cart towards his newest panel, which was roughly sketched as a divided apartment, with a family at dinner on the left side, and slaves gathered in the kitchen on the right. Amalie walked beside him. "And?" he prompted.
"Curtis is gay. That's why he's so good with his tongue, to get it over with. Frankie organizes everything and the others follow his lead although Curtis thinks he's annoying. Luthor fancies himself in love with a girl in the next corridor, but she refuses to look at him. Sometimes he shirks his work and Curtis and Frankie cover for him."
She helped Animal unload the chair from the wagon and then sat down in it, leaning back against one overstuffed arm and putting her legs over the other. She was wearing a split skirt, and the fabric fell away at her thighs. "Are you going to say I told you so?"
Animal shrugged. "You looked, and you saw. It took you a lot less time than it did me."
"My whole life," Amalie said. "Same as you." She tilted her head coquettishly but her voice was worried as she asked, "Do I have to be a pansy now?"
Animal glanced at Rose, who was focused on her picture, her brow furrowed. "Gabriel would say yes," he said. "But I can't answer that for you."
"Would I have to stop shaving my legs? And drone on at parties about history and justice?"
Animal looked down appreciatively at Amalie's legs, and grinned. "If you droned, you would be enthralling," he said. "People would come from all corners of the mansion to hear your dulcet voice."
Amalie laughed shakily. "And to measure the hair on my legs."
"Give it time," Animal said. "My Aunt Marge has a nice-sized mustache coming in."
"It's not the life I want," Amalie said in a low voice. "I want to fit in. You never cared about that."
Animal shrugged. "I never really saw it as a possibility for myself."
Amalie swung her legs around to the floor and walked over to the completed panel where Animal had painted the boy and the girl dipping their feet in the swimhole. Animal followed her. Together they looked at the painting. "I'm afraid," Amalie said softly.
Animal nodded. "I know."
"I still don't have unnatural feelings for the triplets."
"You don't have to."
"What do I have to do, then?"
Animal sighed and shook his head. He wished Gabriel were here. But Gabriel didn't know everything. "The best you can," he said. "It's all anyone can ask."
Amalie lifted her hand towards the painting, but it was too high up and too far away to touch. "You'll help me?" she asked.
Animal nodded, and put his arm around her waist. "The minute I see stubble I'll bring you a razor."
THE WESTERN MANSION
"Look at me," Gabriel's mistress commanded him. Gabriel was not sure what she meant, and hedged his bets by raising his eyes to her waist. She put a finger under his chin and lifted it until he was forced to look her in the face. "I'm going to take the gag out," she said. "When I do that, you will tell me you love me. Then you will speak no more. Do you understand?" Gabriel nodded.
The mistress gently reached around and unhooked the strap securing the gag. "Open," she said, and Gabriel opened his mouth so she could remove it. She slid it along his tongue as she pulled it out of his mouth, triggering his gag reflex. As soon as he could he said, "I love you, mistress."
"No," she said with a smile. "Say it like you mean it."
"I love you, mistress," Gabriel said again, trying to put feeling into his words. She smiled encouragingly.
"Better," she said. "You may say that without permission, whenever you wish."
THE CENTRAL MANSION
When Mariah left Animal's apartment after dinner, sliding the door to the courtyard closed behind her, Animal held out his hand to Rose. She stepped back.
"Are you tired?" Animal asked.
"No, Master," Rose said, but she didn't look at him. She hadn't looked at him all evening.
"What's the matter?" Animal kept his voice soft. Rose slipped easily back into docility when he was gruff.
She spoke so quietly that Animal had to strain to hear her. "You should go to Mistress Amalie," she said.
"Why?" Animal squinted at her. "I just saw her today."
"I know," Rose said. "I was there." She twisted her hands together.
Animal started to approach her, but stopped when she turned her back to him. "What did she say to you?" he demanded, then mentally shook himself for being too forceful.
"Nothing, Master." Rose's voice caught. "She helped me with my drawing. But after, when you were talking . . . " She shrugged helplessly. "And not just today. Ever since she came back . . ." She took another step away from him. "You should be with her."
"Be with her?" Animal said to the back of Rose's head. "What does that mean?"
Animal only pretended his confusion, to gain himself some time to think. He had known this conversation would come, but he had hoped not so soon. Rose would try to sacrifice herself so that Animal could pursue a more normal life, with a human woman, just as Amalie had urged him to do weeks ago.
He had turned that conversation over and over in his mind. He had been honest with Amalie when he told her he had no interest in fathering children. But so much had changed recently. Perhaps, someday, he might come to a point where he would want to bring a new life into the world.
More importantly, for the first time, he had to take the desires of someone else into account. What might Rose want?
Of course Rose could never bear his child. But Animal thought Amalie might be wrong that no human woman would have a child with him, knowing that he loved a slave. If he, and Rose, one day wanted to make a family, he would find another pansy, a woman who, like him, had built a life with a slave.
It could work, Animal thought, but for now it was no more than a kernel of a daydream; nor did it need to be unless Rose . . .
But she was speaking. "She has long legs and a dulcet voice," she said.
Her words, and her petulant tone, were so unexpected that Animal stared at the back of her head for a long moment. Then he laughed with relief. "You're jealous!" he said. Rose wasn't going to try to throw him away for his own good. Not today, at least.
Rose turned around. Her face was wan, and she still didn't look at him. "I don't mean to be, Master," she said. "I'm trying not to be."
Still chuckling, Animal crossed the distance to her. He took Rose's hands in his. "I care for her," he said. Rose tried to draw away but Animal held her. "I care for her like the old friend that she is," he continued. "But I could never love her like this." He kissed Rose, softly at first, and then, as Rose relaxed into him, hard, urgently. He stopped but only so he could say, "Nor like this," and he slid his knee between her legs, opening her.
Rose shook her head. "You could," she said. "She has lips, and legs."
Animal contemplated Rose. "But that wouldn't be fair to her. Because I would be touching her but thinking about you."
It seemed to have been the right thing to say because Rose relaxed and smiled slightly. Animal sighed with relief. "What exactly would you be thinking, Master?" she asked, teasing now.
"Shall I show you?" Animal asked. Rose nodded. He moved hair to one side of her neck and nuzzled the other side, just below her ear. At the same time he kept his thigh pressed against her crotch. She made that little sound in her throat and tilted her head. Animal moved his lips to her earlobe and her hand to her breast.
When Rose began to writhe against him he pulled back. She gave a whimper of protest and disappointment.
"Do you want to keep going?" Animal asked her.
There was no teasing now. "Yes, Master," Rose answered.
Animal took a deep breath. "Then call me Animal."
"Master?"
"Call me Animal," he said again. "When we're alone. Call me by my name. Please." He hadn't realized how much he wanted it until he said it out loud.
"Animal." Rose elongated the word like she was sounding it out.
Animal put his hands around her waist and his mouth found her neck again. Rose sighed with contentment. "Animal," she said. She pressed her body against his. "Animal." They were length to length. Rose wrapped one leg around Animal. He groaned, his erection rubbing her abdomen. He forced himself to pull away, but only so he could fling off his shoes and pants.
"Animal." He grabbed her leg and put it back where it had been. She put her arms around his neck and pulled into him so she could wrap her other leg around his middle. He supported her with his arms, but turned and took a few steps so that her back was against the patio door. This allowed him to free one hand to stroke her body. He found her nipple and squeezed it, hard. She moaned, and he continued to play with her breasts until she was gyrating on him. Then his hand wandered lower, over her belly, and to her nub. Rose arched her back, and Animal almost lost his grip on her. Recovering, he continued to touch her, loving that he could give pleasure to her.
When her moaning became continuous, he slowed. "Are you ready for me?" he asked.
"So ready, Animal," she answered.
Positioning himself, he entered her. Her slickness was bliss. "Animal." She squeezed him with her legs, with her pussy. He couldn't be gentle; he slammed into her. The door shook behind her to the rhythm of his pumping. "Animal." She spasmed around him with his name on her lips. He continued fucking her as she cried his name over and over, until at last he let himself go, shouting her name back at her.
He sank down to the floor, bringing her with him. They landed with Rose on top of him. "Rose," he said. "It's only you I love like this."
THE WESTERN MANSION
Kevra woke in the middle of the night, confused. Gabriel was opening the door to the room.
"What are you doing?" she asked sleepily.
Gabriel turned to her. "Hush," he whispered. "I'm leaving. I'm going home."
Kevra sat up. "You poor boy," she said softly. "This is your home, for now. Don't you know that?"
Gabriel looked worriedly into the apartment, but relaxed when he heard a snore from Leo and Pria's bedroom. He turned back to the sleeping room, closing the door quietly behind him. "I'm not a slave," he said. "I need to go. I have to do it tonight. They forgot to chain me." He pointed to the empty shackle on the floor.
"You poor boy," Kevra said again. "A mind game has you." She stood up and tried to hug him, but Gabriel pushed her away.
"I'll send for you," he said, his voice breaking. "I'll talk to the Bearer. He'll give you to me so you won't be punished."
"The Bearer doesn't talk to slaves, sweetie," Kevra said gently. "And you won't make it a hundred yards outside this apartment. It's after curfew and the nightwatchers are patrolling. They won't just play with you like Master and Mistress."
"The nightwatchers," Gabriel said. "I forgot about them." He leaned against the door, momentarily defeated. Then he perked up. "I'll get some clothes from Master Leo's closet."
"Snuffly, you can't." Gabriel winced at her use of the name that Pria had given him. He turned and opened the door. "You can't!" she said a little louder. "When you're caught . . ." She shuddered. "I can't let you." Gabriel ignored her, and walked into the hall. "I'm going to scream," Kevra said. "I'll scream like I've never screamed before. I'll wake the whole corridor."
"No!" Gabriel said desperately. "Don't you understand I can help you?"
"You can't help me," Kevra said. "But I'm helping you. It's just a mindgame. You have to play it through to the end." For a moment they stared at each other, neither moving. "I will scream," Kevra said. "Don't make me."
Gabriel sagged, defeated. Kevra took his hand and led him back to his sleeping platform. "This is for your own good," she said as she attached the shackle to his wrist.
THE CENTRAL MANSION
Mariah walked across the courtyard, Animal's forgotten sketchpad in her hand. She was surprised by a knocking sound coming from Animal's apartment. She saw Rose's backside pressed against the patio door, and Animal pounding into her. Through the glass she could hear them call each other's names. She watched as they slid down to the floor and lay together.
It was hard to walk back to Gabriel's empty apartment, alone. When was he coming home?
THE WESTERN MANSION
Gabriel stood facing the wall, his hands at his sides, in the same position he had held for the last two hours. Other than blinking he was not permitted to move. Once he had rocked from one foot to another and his master had whipped him on the ass, a swift, brutal stroke.
Pain shot like arrows up from his feet. He was sure his hands were swollen but he was not permitted to look at them. Spots swam before his eyes and in those spots were people he had known in another life, or the life before that. Pieter, his mentor, reciting the names of the bones in the human body. Hazel, his sister, laughing as she chased their cousins in the field behind the cottage. Animal, with Rose, painting a picture Gabriel could not see.
And then Mariah, saying, "Breathe, deep, like you taught me."
"I can't," Gabriel answered silently. "They'll punish me."
"My poor, dear pet," Mariah said, and she caressed his head. The bubble with Mariah in it popped. "I love you," Gabriel said to it, only he was saying it to Mistress Pria.
"Come darling," Mistress Pria said. "You've been a good boy. Lay down and Kevra will give you a massage." Then he was laying down and Kevra was rubbing his shoulders and his back and his legs and then, blessedly, his aching feet.
THE CENTRAL MANSION
Rose lay with her head on Animal's chest, listening to the beat of his heart. He roused and moved his hand to her lower back, massaging her sleepily. With an effort she rolled off of him.
With a half-stifled groan Animal pulled himself onto one elbow. "Do you want me show you some more?" he asked. "Maybe in bed this time? With my tongue?"
He sounded so exhausted and so hopeful that Rose couldn't help smiling. But she shook her head. "I'm sorry I was jealous," she said. "I know I have no right. But the way you were looking at Mistress Amalie's legs . . . "
Animal sat up all the way. "I'm sorry I made you feel bad, again," he said gruffly. Then he sighed. "But I'm an artist. For you to ask me not to look . . ."
"I would never ask you that!" Rose said, shocked. "You can do whatever you want!"
"I want to make you happy," Animal said, so intensely that Rose blushed. "And if that means no touching and no looking, then so be it."
Rose laughed suddenly. "You can look all you want. And if you want to put your arm around Mistress Amalie . . ."
"Just my arm?" Animal asked. He was no longer tired. "Would it make you happy if I promised never to fuck anyone else?" When Rose didn't answer he said, "Some people don't. There's a fancy word for it – Gabriel would know what it is."
Rose sobered. "How could that make me happy?" she said. "I can't make the same promise to you." Animal felt like she had punched him in the gut. She continued, "If I get stopped in the hallway . . ." It was like another punch, harder this time. Rose was not saying that she might choose another, but reminding him that she could be forced. Raped.
Misunderstanding, Rose said, "Will you be jealous, like me?"
"No, not jealous."
"What, then?" Rose asked.
Animal tried to find the words to tell Rose the black despair he felt knowing that she was at the mercy of every human she passed in the corridor and that he was utterly powerless to protect her. But then he didn't want to tell her; how much worse must it be to be Rose, unprotected? He had no right to add to her burden.
"Gabriel once suggested that I should keep you with me all the time, so that you would be safe," Animal said. "Would you like that?"
"No!" Rose said quickly. Then she stammered, "I mean, only if it pleases you."
"Is being with me such torture?" Animal asked. He meant to tease, but he sounded miserable.
Rose put her hand on his. "I would feel trapped," Rose said. "And so would you. It would be worse than the fear of being stopped. And I'm careful, and I have a bracelet, and . . . "
Animal interrupted her. "I get it," he said. He stood up. "Just promise me, when you are stopped, you do what you need to do to be safe as you can be." He pulled her up after him, his expression as sour as it had ever been. "Even if it means you have to take pleasure in it." He glanced at her and stopped short.
"Pleasure?" Rose asked, hurt and shocked.
"If it's a choice between pleasure and punishment, yes," Animal said. "Let your body do what it's been trained to do."
Rose made an odd sound. She was crying. Not her usual quietly welling tears that could easily pass unobserved, but heaving sobs. Animal put his arms were around her and she cried even harder, dampening his chest with her tears and snot. He held her. "Tell me," he said. "Please."
It took Rose a minute to collect herself enough to answer. "I wish I wasn't a slave," she said.
Animal held her. There was nothing he could say.
THE WESTERN MANSION
Gabriel was on his hands and knees in front of the sofa. Mistress Pria was using his back as a table. A crash came from behind him, and the sound of breaking glass, and a stifled gasp. Mistress Pria stood up and surveyed the damage. "Clean it up," she ordered Kevra.
Gabriel couldn't see Kevra but he could hear her sweeping up the broken glass and placing the shards in the rubbish can. Then she came before her mistress and prostrated herself, shaking.
Mistress Pria cocked her head. "I'm tired to death of punishing you for your clumsiness," she said. "I should just send you to the exchange and be done with it."
Kevra sobbed.
Mistress Pria took her plate off Gabriel's back and put it on the floor. Placing a finger under his chin she raised him to his knees. She unlatched the whip from her belt and put it in Gabriel's hand. "You do it," she said. "And do a good job, or you'll be next."
Gabriel blinked dumbly as the whip dangled from his hand. Mistress Pria slapped his face, hard. "Now," she said.
He stood and turned to Kevra. Her flesh was already mottled from a beating earlier that day. Gabriel lifted the whip and feebly brought it down. He missed. "That's three whipstrokes for you," Mistress Pria said. Gabriel tried again, this time connecting the whip to Kevra's backside.
"Not hard enough," Mistress Pria said. "Three more strokes for you." Gabriel brought the whip crashing down on Kevra's back. She shrieked before she could stop herself.
"Good boy," Mistress said. "Do it again, ten more times."
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