Chapter III - In Master Twelve's Chamber
"Enter."
I have never shown Thirty-Seven any favor that she has not earned. She has always served me well. Under my tutelage, she has become versed in philosophy and literature and has surpassed my abilities in the art of playing violin. Over the years, I've grown quite attached to her. She has become my closest confidant and I've passed many nights in conversation with her. Though I have not spoken it in almost ten years, I remember her true name: Marisette.
I would call her friend, were she not my Prime. It is my greatest hope that upon her Emancipation Day, she will wish to call me friend once we're on more equal footing. She would be the first to do so. I cannot blame her if she doesn't. Still, I hope.
The guards having let her in, she kneels beside my bed, cups her breasts and bows her head before she speaks. "Master, I have news."
I stretch and rub the sleep from my eyes. "What is it, Thirty-Seven?"
"It's regarding Two Hundred and Seventy-Six, Master."
Sixey. The small one. So weak and sickly. "Has she taken ill?"
"No, Master," Thirty-Seven says. "And I was very careful with her, as per your request. The groomer should be with her now."
"Very good," I say. "Have the medicus inspect her anyway."
"I will, Master," she says and then looks me in the eye, a privilege she has earned many times over. "Regardless of her health, you'll want to be certain of her... condition."
It isn't like Thirty-Seven to be cryptic. I'm alert now. "What are you trying to say, Thirty-Seven?"
"Your new Tithe claims to be a virgin, Master."
"Then you have full permission to flog the truth out of her."
Thirty-Seven looks away. "I believe her, Master."
Now I'm wide awake. There simply are no virgin Tithes. I cannot imagine a young woman not saving that most precious gift for someone they love—or at least that they believe they love—before entering the lottery. But I guess to some, love means nothing. She'll not earn any special favor for it here, but still... I've never taken a virgin before.
"Have the medicus make sure," I say. "If she's lying, make her regret it. If not, her virginity belongs to me."
"I understand, Master," she says and then turns to crawl away.
"Wait."
She looks back over her shoulder, her auburn hair cascading to the floor, her green eyes flashing. She is as beautiful as the day she arrived but a thousand times more experienced. I feel my cock begin to stir.
"Tell the medicus," I say. "Then hurry back."
She smiles knowingly. "Yes, Master. Thank you."
I grin in return. "I will. Very soon."
As she crawls away, on perfect display as always, I can see her nether parts already beginning to swell and flush. The guard lets her out. I lie back, brimming with pride and pleased with the knowledge that Thirty-Seven normally prefers partners of the fairer sex. Though she would accept into her any cock that I command her to take, it pleases me to know that she has come to desire mine.
I sit up and swing my feet off of the bed, look down, and then remember the thin young man I've kept shackled there overnight, the one who has served as either my bedroom chair, table, or footstool for the last week. Poor boy. I can find little more use for him than furniture. As a Tithe, I had many men and many men had me, but by nature I don't like them. Though his pretty, girlish face is enticing, what is between his legs is of little interest to me. It is, however, bright red and hard as a rock.
"Good morning, One-Ninety-One."
Using the hand I've left unbound for just this purpose, he places slippers on my feet. "Good morning, Master."
I've not spoken much to this one beyond the occasional command, but he carries them out swiftly and without complaint. A thought occurs to me. I look at the position he is bound in and consider the path from the door to my bedside.
A cruel one, Thirty-Seven. Her hairless nether regions couldn't have been more than a foot from his face when she delivered her message to me. She has learned well, that one. Perhaps a bit too well, for she occasionally "forgets" that I am Master here. "How long has it been since you've come, One-Ninety-One?"
"Almost two weeks, Master," he says, an edge of excitement creeping into his voice.
"Look at me, Tithe," I says as I begin gently tapping the tip of his cock with my slipper. "You fancy Thirty-Seven, don't you?"
"She is exquisite, Master." His face is a mixture of agony and ecstasy as I stop tapping my foot and instead lightly stroke the length of his shaft. I feel his cock begin to throb beneath my slipper.
"She doesn't much like men, you know," I say. "She'd never allow you to fuck her."
The poor, heartbroken creature remains silent, just as he should, but his disappointment is easy to read. He's been good and has served me well, so a reward is in order. Thirty-Seven, on the other hand, disappoints me. She knows she is not to commit an act of cruelty without my permission. She must be punished.
Which was exactly what she was hoping for.
"Poor boy," I say. "She'd never choose to couple with you. But if you could, where on her body would you most like to come?"
One-Ninety-One closes his eyes and shudders. "In her ass, my Master."
"You've thought of that often," I say and then grin. "If I were to allow you to share Thirty-Seven's company with me, do you think you could refrain from coming in her for an hour?"