A Numbers Game Ch 05

Chapter V -- The Sealing

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's hotter when you cum with someone you know and love. While there is a little sexy stuff in here, this chapter and the next are pretty heavy on plot and character development. You may be tempted to skip them if you're just looking to rub one out. I get it. Feel free. Just please don't down vote these because no one cums. Think of this as literary edging. I promise that when I let you cum, it'll be worth it. Trust me.

I look down upon the sleeping girl's frail form, hating the crimson gashes on her back, then scowl at the face of the man whom I know caused them. I want to visit the same upon him, ten times worse. More. "This was necessary, Kennelmaster?"

"Aye, my Master," he says, never raising his eyes from the ground where he kneels alongside Eighty-Eight. Brute that he is, he knows his place.

"And you, groomer, concur?"

"No, my Master," he says, tears in his eyes. "She did hide herself, but I am to blame."

I grind my teeth. "How so?"

"I for-"

"Look at me!" I grab Eighty-Eight's chin and force him to meet my gaze.

"I am sorry, my Master!" He sobs. His eyes tear, but he does not break eye contact. "I didn't tell her not to hide herself, Master. She was so good, as if she had been a Tithe for years. I forgot that she was still just-"

"Shut up," I say. "Kennelmaster, your work is good as always. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Master." Kennelmaster raises his head, but does not leave. "May I speak?"

"Be quick."

Kennelmaster clears his throat. "You'd have been proud of her, Master. The words she said. Most Tithes barely have the strength to speak when I'm done with 'em. You know that. Not her. She was articulate. Loud enough for all to hear. You've really got something here."

"What are you getting at?"

"With a little work," Kennelmaster says, then clears his throat again, "she may just be your champion. Have you-"

"No." I glare at him. "And I'll hear no more on the subject. Understand?"

Confusion crosses Kennelmaster's face, but he doesn't question me. "Aye, my Master."

"Send in the medicus," I say. As Kennelmaster turns to leave, I return my focus to Eighty-Eight. He's an excellent groomer, one of the best in the land, and a kind man. But at this moment, I want nothing more than to banish him to the brothels.

No. I want to kill him, but I am not like Nine. Nine wouldn't care about Avissia in the first place, though. Why do I? And when I look at her poor, broken body, why must I remember she has a name?

Kennelmaster returns with the medicus, carrying her bag for her in one hand and holding the door for her with the other. "Right this way, Dr. Drevia."

"You've grown into a fine young gentleman, Rygiir," she says and pats him on the cheek, forcing a smile from Kennelmaster. "I see you've learned a lot here. How much longer must you serve?"

"Two years, Dr. Drevia," he says.

"Really?" She says. "How time flies. Will you compete?"

"Doubtful," Kennelmaster replies with a smirk.

Dr. Drevia lowers her gaze and smiles knowingly at him. "That little girl back home still has you wrapped around her finger?"

Kennelmaster's smirk becomes a genuine smile. "Sylva."

"Yes, yes," she says. "I remember when you would get sick as a little boy. Who would ever have guessed you'd grow into such a big, strong, and handsome man? You just be good like you always were for me. It would break my heart to have to come treat you for something this animal did to you."

Kennelmaster sets the bag at her feet and glances at me nervously before ducking out of the room, more afraid of what this old loon thinks of him than what his Master might do. Coward. I could humiliate him in front of her, but I've more pressing matters.

I smile at Dr. Drevia. "Good afternoon, Madam. Thank you for coming so-"

"Just stay out of my way," she says and then glances at Eighty-Eight, who still kneels before me. "And you. Get up!"

Eighty-Eight looks up at me, knowing I am Master, but having difficulty not obeying a stern voice. I nod at him, trying not to roll my eyes. "Go on, Eighty-Eight. You're dismissed, but don't think for a moment that I'm through with you."

"Let's see what you've done this time," Dr. Drevia says, scowling at me as Eighty-Eight leaves. She pushes past me to where Sixey lies face down on the table. "God in Heaven! How young is she?"

Dr. Drevia is a skilled medicus and a very caring woman. Everyone likes her. I would love to like her, if it weren't for the fact that she hates me so. The best I can do is to show her respect, stay out of her way, and pay her triple what she would charge a villager.

"She's twenty, Mrs. Drevia."

"Doctor," she says as she cleans Sixey's wounds. "How could you do this to her?"

I don't answer. She wouldn't believe that I didn't do this, and she'd never believe who actually did. "There's another matter I need to discuss with you."

"I would absolutely refuse to treat whatever you've contracted," she says, "if I didn't think you'd give it to this poor girl."

Sixey stirs as Dr. Drevia applies an ointment to her wounds. She speaks in her sleep. "I'm sorry, Master. I won't... won't... ever..."

I close my eyes. I have no desire to see the look on the good doctor's face. "She claims to be a virgin, Doctor."

"And I suppose you need to know if she's lying." Dr. Drevia places a soft cloth over Sixey's back. "I won't do this just so you can get some sort of twisted kick out of it. Leave. Now."

"I understand," I say and step outside. A few moments pass before I hear Sixey moan. I press my ear to the door.

"I'm sorry sweetie," Dr. Drevia says. "You're being so good. Just a little further."

"Want to be good," Sixey moans.

I want so badly to like Dr. Drevia. I'm sure Sixey is still asleep, but even so, she comforts her. A few more minutes and the door opens. Dr. Drevia's face is smug.

"So," she says. "Thought you'd beat the truth out of her, huh? There are no virgin Tithes."

"Thank you, Doctor," I say as I brush past her, ready to hasten the unpleasant woman from my home. "I'll make sure you get-"

"Except this one," she says. "Hard to believe you haven't raped her yet."

"You've proof that I haven't," I say. "And I want to ensure that no one rapes her."

"Then," Dr. Drevia says, meeting my gaze without a flinch, "send her home."

I say nothing, just stare at her coldly. I'm sick of this woman's assumptions and accusations. She knows nothing about me and is too stubborn to learn.

She narrows her eyes. "I won't do it."

"The village tailor is just as skilled with a needle as you, Doctor, and much cheaper," I say and then smirk. "And I'm sure he'd be thrilled to keep the money that you would waste on a sedative."

Her eyes flick to Sixey's still sleeping body. Her gaze is softer when she looks at me again. A tear comes to her eye.

"You bastard," she says. "Fine."

"Six of them," I say as I walk out the door, knowing she'd never perform the procedure in front of me. "Steel."

The only answer I receive is the slamming of the door.

***

One-Ninety-One is asleep at my bedside when I enter the chamber. I don't wake him to help me undress for bed. He sleeps little, and tonight he looks so peaceful. And I've had my fill of cruelty today. I try to slip into bed unnoticed, but a creak from the headboard wakens him.

"Master?"

"Go back to sleep, Tithe. I've no need of you."

One-Ninety-One kneels instead. "May this boy speak, Master?"

I roll away from him. "Be brief."

"Something troubles you," he says.

"Don't concern yourself with it."

"It's the new Tithe, isn't it?"

I shut my eyes. "It's none of your business."

"Yes, Master." He is silent for a moment. "You are a good man. A kind man."

"Thank you, One-Ninety-One. Now be silent and let me sleep before I prove you wrong."

He sighs. "There are rumors, Master."

So he's heard of Sixey's virginity? "There always are."

"This boy would prefer to continue to serve you, Master."

I laugh. "Relax, boy. Just because I have little use for you doesn't mean I intend to be rid of you."

"My Master doesn't seem to understand," he says.

Now he has my attention. I roll back over and face him. "What don't I understand?"

"Master, this boy overheard his Prime having a conversation about the medicus's visit today. About the new girl. This boy worries about how her... condition... may be affecting you."

"Your Master has everything under control." I stroke the boy's face gently, then give him a little slap, just to remind him of his position. "Such a busybody little hen, aren't you? And so pretty. I sometimes forget what's between your legs."

He smiles. "This boy wishes you would forget, Master."

"Not likely," I say, knowing that when not given a choice, I could overlook it. But I have a choice tonight. I roll back over and close my eyes, leaving One-Ninety-One unsatisfied yet again. I'm displeased with Thirty-Seven for spreading rumors, intentionally or otherwise. I'll have to whip her soundly tomorrow while she pegs my poor little neglected informant.