Chapter 8: Small travels
Mariah remembers
Mistress Corinne was examining the hands of a slave, helping a human determine his suitability for work in the bakery. "You'll have to break him in slowly," she said. "He's lost his calluses from the field."
Mariah knelt to her mistress's side, her knees apart, her hands clasped behind her back, her eyes respectfully down, awaiting her next orders.
"I just don't know if he's strong enough," the man said, squeezing the slave's biceps.
Mariah knew that would annoy her mistress. "He's young," Mistress Corinne said. "He hasn't reached his full strength. This is the factory exchange. If you want an older slave, you'll have to look elsewhere."
"No, I want one who I don't need to break of bad habits," he said. "But the bakery's hard work. I need a boy who can lift."
Mistress Corinne turned away, having lost all interest in the conversation. "If this one doesn't suit you, you're free to look around,' she said. She looked down at Mariah. "Did you finish organizing the supply closet?" she asked.
"Yes, mistress," Mariah answered, not raising her eyes.
Mistress Corinne nodded. "Under that oak tree, do you see that group of slavegirls?" she asked.
Mariah looked over. "Yes, mistress."
"I want you to pleasure each of them. Use your mouth. And no more than ten minutes each. Make sure they come."
"Yes, mistress," Mariah said. Her tone was deferential, but her heart sank. She wanted desperately to please her mistress, to keep her from marking her as a torture cunt as Master Jonas had suggested. She was on edge all the time, fearing that rebellion would slip out - the same rebellion she had showed to Master Jonas when he had chosen her. Sometimes her eyes ached from looking down, when she longed to look her mistress full in the face.
But that was nothing compared to the constant, unbearable ache that originated in her pussy and spread outward to her whole body. Mistress Corinne had her pleasure other slaves daily, sometimes more, but had not yet seen fit to allow Mariah release. The greatest torture was pleasuring other girls, feeling with her tongue the same contours as her own sex, tasting their desire, feeling their surge of freedom at the end.
Pleasuring the slaveboys in the exchange made her burn. But pleasuring the girls made her think of her own pleasure. She touched them as she longed to be touched; she gave them the relief she longed to receive. And when they exploded onto her, she knew that just the slightest contact would cause her own explosion. That contact never came. She fought to keep her knees spread, to prevent any accidents, to show her mistress that she was obedient and good. And with that hope - that she could convince Mistress Corinne that she was worthy - she trudged to the slave girls who awaited her.
Present day
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.
Master Animal cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you, Rose," he said. "It was very good. Especially the . . . " He looked down at his own untouched plate. ". . . beets."
Master Gabriel stopped in his tracks and turned. He, Rose, and Mariah stared at Master Animal, who warded off their looks with his hands and said, "What? I like the color."
"It's carmine," Rose whispered, her face almost the color of the beets in question.
Master 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.
Master Animal, though, had turned his attention to Master 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."
Master Gabriel nodded at him with a slight smile. "I guess I could try those beets," he said. Rose saw him glance over at Mariah, to include her in the lightened mood, but she had returned to glowering at her plate and did not notice.
Mariah remembers
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. 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 slavegirls. She managed to say evenly, "Yes, mistress," before she hurried to the washroom.
She washed her face and swished her mouth with water to rinse out the taste of the girls. 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 Mistress Corinne's back was towards her. She was speaking with another human, a tall, blue eyed woman with brown hair starting towards gray. Mistress Desiree 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 Desiree 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 Desiree asked. "I know you aren't keeping her for yourself."
"No, of course not," Mistress Corinne said, sounding offended. "But I think Jonas might have had the right of it - 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."
