Willing Slave Unwilling Master Ch 13

Hey all,

Thanks for all the comments and ratings on the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one. The penultimate part of Dan and Rose's story!

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Rose

The hum of the Anti-grav engines drop to near silence as the hover car comes to a stop, and the sound of rain pounding against metal seems to grow ten times louder in the dark, stuffy boot. I struggle to move with my arms cuffed behind my back. Are we finally here?

I've spent hours shut away in the boot, a black bag over my head. With no light I've had only the hum of the engine, and the relentless patter of rain—which has followed us since we left the Department of Interspecies Relations—as stimulus. I feel like I've spent days in this cramped space, and, now that we've stoped, all I want to do is get out and stretch.

Panic grips my chest, as it has done more than a few times on the way here. I wish I could tap my cheek, and activate the communication chip. What I wouldn't give to speak to my owner. Forcing myself to picture the faces of my sisters, I remember why I'm doing this. No matter what's waiting for me outside, I need to stay in control.

The car door opens, and the whole vehicle wobbles uncharacteristically. I hold still, listening hard. But all I can hear is my own heartbeat and the constant rain. I jump as the car door slams banging my head in the tight space.

I whimper softly, the sudden pain brining a tear to my eye. Taking a deep breathe I make myself hold still, listening hard. Oh stars, are those the sounds of footsteps, or am I imagining things?

A mixture of cold air, and even colder rain, hits my naked skin as the boot opens with a hiss. I've never felt vulnerable being naked before, quite the opposite really, but now I wish I could hide in one of Master's big cozy sweaters. I gasp, as clammy hands, damp from either the rain or sweat, pull me from the trunk.

Letting my body go limp, I'm carried like a baby away from the car. Panic grips my chest as the person holding me slips, nearly toppling, but seems to regain his balance just in time.

"That's far enough!" a voice calls.

I let out an involuntary yell of fear as I'm suddenly dropped. The shout dies in my throat as I land in a thick layer of mud. At least, I hope this is mud. The cold sludge oozes around me, and I struggle to right myself. Before I'm pulled roughly onto my knees, sharp fingernails digging into my upper arm.

"Here we are," Ernie says, "Sorry about the delay, you fellows. She took some finding..." He trails off, the false confidence in his voice faltering.

I hear wet footsteps squelching in the mud, drawing rapidly closer, before the bag is pulled away from my face. I have just enough time to blink, before a sudden bright light forces my eyes closed.

"It's her," a male voice says, before the bag is tugged back down. I enjoy the momentary reprieve from his blinding torch, but almost at once I wish I could escape the humid interior of the bag again. I gasp as the bag's pull cords are tightened around my throat, to the point of almost choking me.

"See, what did I tell you," Ernie says, "back safe and sound. And we can put this whole nasty business behind us, don't you think?"

There's a soft thwack, followed by a strange sound, like a bag of photos being thrown into the mud. Forcing myself not to look around, I wonder if Ernie will comment on the strange noise.

But, Ernie is silent.

I swallow hard as realisation of what just happened hits me. They shot him.

I didn't know Ernie was the one who kidnaped me, not until today. His face didn't register in all the fear and excitement of leaving the compound. I don't even remember much of being in the back of his car when he brought me to my Master. He was a stranger then, and is—was—a stranger now.

So why does his death make me feel sick to my stomach?

I tense holding my breathe, waiting for something to happen. But the rain continues to poor and the world doesn't seem to be any different for Ernie's death. I notice a cold liquid running against my legs, and I hope with everything I have that it's rain, and not Ernie's blood. Blood would be hot, right?

Thoughts of blood and death chase each other around my head, throwing up awful training image after awful training image. I feel hot tears touch my cheeks as I imagine the man who shot Ernie aiming his riffle at me. I don't want to die! If I die master will be upset, and I can't hurt him like that!A strong pair of gloved hands grab my arms, yanking me out of my impending meltdown.

I almost tell them that I would be happy to walk, as they pull me to my feet and start to drag me through the mud. But those are not the thoughts—let alone the actions—of a good slave.

I'm dragged a short distance, and the squelch of mud is quickly replaced by the wet slap of boots on a hard floor. And I can no longer feel the rain on my skin, though I can still hear it pattering above me. We must be inside, or at least undercover.

I'm subjected to a continuous stream of sound, doors opening, doors closing, alarms, beeps, and a thousand other noises, as I'm pulled along. But the human's carrying me remain completely silent. The smell of stale recycled air is my first inclination that I am back in the compound proper. How could I have forgotten such distinctive smell? I try my best not to shiver, as the scent stirs up both the good, and the bad memories I have of this place.

I bite my lip, as feel the tops of my feet being rubbed raw on the rough ground. Before the pain wouldn't have bothered me, but weeks of feeling nothing but gentle affection have left me more sensitive. We come to a stop and I'm grateful for the chance to stand on my own, but to my disappointment it seems this is only a momentary rest. I'm pulled forward, and my bare feet meet an icy metal floor. The whole world moves downwards, and I guess that we must be inside a lift.

We continue on like this, in silence, encountering more lifts, more rough floors, and even a set of steep stairs.

Just as i'm starting to think they are walking me in circles purposely to confuse me, we stop. I'm spun on the spot by the two men holding me, before one of them pushes me into a soft padded chair. The paper cover crinkles as I sit, causing me to wince. Listening hard, I wait for someone to speak so that I can confirm my location.

Panic grips my chest as I consider a terrifying possibility. What if they haven't taken me to my sisters part of the compound at all? I could be in another lab! In another area of the compound altogether! Suddenly the fabric obscuring my vision feels more suffocating than the cords around my neck.

I'm so busy fighting to control myself that I almost miss the sounds of the humans who brought me here retreating, their wet boots squeaking against the plastic floor as they go.

The room is completely still, and I wonder if I'm alone. It's not unusual for a girl to be left unattended. After-all, obedience is as effective as chains when it comes to restraining Lower Vil.

Just as I'm wondering what a spy in one of Master's movies might do in this situation, a door opens. All thoughts of sneakily looking around leave my head, as I try and focus on where I herd the door opening.

I can just make out the rustle of clothes as someone moves towards me, before I feel soft warm fingers gently brushing against the side of my neck. I hold perfectly still, my heart pounding in my chest, as they start to tug at the bags drawstrings.

"Is the subject harmed?" a man asks, his voice tense.

"I won't know until I get a proper look at her," a woman replies softly. Is this Dr. Walker? I've known the doctor for my entire life, but the fear rising in my chest has driven the memory of her voice from my mind. I need to see. I need to know for sure, before my heart explodes with anxiety.

With agonising gentleness the bag is pulled from away from my face, I blink furiously against the bright overhead lights. Pulling at my restraints, I try to rub my eyes desperate to see clearly again.

"Oh stars, has the vision been affected?" the man asks. I get the sense that he isn't asking after my well being, but his. His voice also sounds familiar, but perhaps I'm just imagining things now.

"She's been blindfolded, and this is a bright room," the women explains calmly. "Why don't you wait outside, Sir, I promise you will have the results, as soon as I know."

"I suppose..." He says. Shapes start to materialise in front of me. Though none of them are distinctive enough for me to be able to recognise anything yet.

"You know how to contact me."

"Of course, Sir."

I try to focus on the abstract shapes moving around the room. Why must the lights be so bright in here? Blinking furiously, I watch as someone disappears though what must be a door. I turn my attention to the person beside me, and I can just make out her white coat and long black hair. Her face, however, is still too blurry to recognise.

Realisation hits me, as shocking as a slap. I shouldn't be looking around the room like a curious human. Even if I can't see properly, I am supposed to be pretending to be an obedient slave!

"Hello Rose."

My heart jumps in my chest, recognising the voice at last. "Doctor Walker?" I ask, my eyes fixed on the floor. Where they should have always been.

"Welcome back sweetheart," the doctor replies, stroking my hair.

Relief floods my chest. It was a risk to not simply return the greeting—as I have been trained to do—but I needed to know for sure it was the doctor. I'm so caught up in my own happiness, that I forgot to hide my smile. If it wasn't Dr. Walker beside me, but a Warden, I would have been severely punished for speaking out of turn.

Thankfully the doctor makes no comment about my less-than neutral expression. Dr. Walker has always been much more lenient with us than the Wardens; nevertheless, if she ever suspected what I planned to do here.... I curse myself, thoughts like that won't help!

I watch her cautiously out of the corner of my eye as she gathers her medical supplies, my vision finally returning to normal. I bite my lip as I watch her, fighting down a shiver at my own disobedience. My curiosity has always been one of my biggest failings, and even if I'm supposed to be learning as much as I can. I still feel guilty.

I notice there is something different about Dr. Walker, her hair is damp and her cheeks red, she must have rushed to get here. But there's something else about her. Her shiny black hair has started to go grey in places, and she has deep purple bags under her eyes. It's like she's aged a year in the month I have been away.

"Well, now, let's have a little look at you," she coos, turning to face me. I drop my eyes back to my knees, cursing myself once again. That was too close!

"So, how are you feeling, Rose?" she asks, leaning over me to release the cuffs.

I take a moment to rub at my sore flesh, before holding my hands obediently on my lap. I need to be more careful about restraints, a mere afternoon locked in cuffs should not have caused so much chafing. Not if I hadn't been pulling against my bounds.

I take a deep breath before starting to speak, "I'm well Miss. I feel cold, but I believe I am undamaged."

"That's good," she says softly, starting to probe my head with her fingertips. "Where have you been sweetie?" she asks, her hands working carefully around my ears.

"I don't know exactly Miss," I lie, the sensation almost giddying, "I was kept in a dark place, perhaps a storeroom? Until that man brought me back here. A bag was placed over my head whenever I wasn't in the dark room Miss. I'm sorry."

"I see," she says with a slight frown, moving her hands down to my neck. "Someone must have fed you?"

"Yes, Miss, I was fed and allowed water," I reply. Lying to her is so easy it's frightening. What if I make it through all of this, somehow manage to save my sisters, only to find that suddenly I'm no longer able to be honest with my Master? I shudder at the thought.

Dr. Walker pauses with her fingers on my collarbone. "Does it hurt when I touch you here?" she asks.

It takes all of my training not to let the fear show on my face. I need to be more careful! Lying may be easy, but so is getting caught in a lie.

"No Miss," I say sedately, keeping my head bowed.

Dr. Walker turns away from me for a moment, and, glancing up quickly, I see her grab her stethoscope from the small wheeled table she often uses. I drop my eyes back to my knees before she notices me peeking.

I bite my lip to stop myself from gasping, as the cold metal disc of the stethoscope is pushed against my chest. Dr. Walker's stethoscope always seems to be icy cold, even when she holds the metal against her hand.

"Have you been having and problems with breathing?" she asks, probing different points around my chest.

'No Miss."

"A bad cough perhaps?" she asks, looking at me intently.

"No, Miss," I say again, careful to keep my tone and expression neutral.

"Learn forward," the doctor says, gently touching my shoulder. I obey dutifully, shivering as the metal disc is held against my back. Shivering isn't really a disobedient act—as it's something we can't control—Still, some Warden's expect us to remain perfectly still no matter what, even during a caning!

"Rose you know that whoever was keeping you was a thief, don't you? He wasn't your Master."

"Yes, Miss," I reply, a standard response.

"So," she goes on, moving the stethoscope to the other side of my back, "any orders her gave you don't count. If he told you not to tell me something then that wasn't a real order, do you understand?"

I nod, "I understand Miss."

"So have you had any medical problems, anything at all, even if the man who stole you told you not to tell me."

"No Miss, nothing," I say doing my best to look innocently confused.

I glance up to see Dr. Walker biting her lip. She gives me an odd look, before sighing and taking a step back. "Spread your legs sweetheart," she says, wrapping the stethoscope around her neck.

I obey at once, placing my heels against my bottom, and letting my knees fall apart. I frown at the cracked mud on my legs as Dr. Walker wheels over a stall, before sitting down in front of me. At least she's stopped asking questions about my chest.

I wait in silence as she pulls on a pair of thin plastic gloves, before she leans forward and gently spreads my folds apart. Whenever Master touches me between my legs it sends a lightning bolt shooting up my spine, but with Dr. Walker there's nothing. Which is good, I have never reacted to her before, so doing so now might be suspicious.

Dr. Walker spreads a thin layer of gel over her fingers. At least from this angle I can watch her without having to raise my head. I do my best to hide the grunt, as she pushes her lubricated finger inside of me. It's startling to be touched so impersonally after spending so much time with my owner.

"As I expected," the doctor says, her voice resigned. "I guess you're not my little girl any more, are you?"

It's a question, but I have no idea how to answer. As far as I can tell I haven't gotten that much bigger since I've been away, but I don't think my size is what she's talking about. "No Miss," I reply softly.

"Did he hurt you?"

"The first time he used me there was a little pain, Miss," I reply, pleased that I can be at least somewhat honest. "But the discomfort passed quickly, Miss."

"I bet."

I see a smile touch Dr. Walker's lips, before her expression once again turns glum. "The boss isn't going to be happy, but your back with us and mostly unharmed," she seems to be speaking more to herself than me.

Discarding her plastic gloves, she continues to work her way down my body, checking behind my knees and between my toes, before taking my right hand and inspecting it closely.

"Did anyone give you any medication sweetheart?" she asks, looking closely under each fingernail. "A pill or an injection, anything at all?"

"No Miss." And just like that i'm back to lying to her. The truth is I was given a pill this morning before I left, and warned by the doctors that if I didn't take another within the next day or so I would start to become sick again. The symptoms that plagued me before Master and I were arrested would not only come back, but be far more severe.

Still, Master told me not to worry. He said that because the compound would want to keep me healthy, so that I can be breed alongside my sisters, they would have to provide me with the correct medication. I risk a glance at Doctor Walker, wondering if she will give me an injection like she used to, or if she has pills like the doctors at the department.

"Well, I suppose they might have put something in your food..." She says to herself, getting to her feet and grabbing a handheld device a little like the art tablet that Master kindly allowed me to use.

She fiddles with the controls biting her bottom lip. "You remember how the scanner works?" she asks, looking down at me intently as if trying to read my mind.

"Yes, Miss," I answer at once, sitting up straighter in the chair and placing my hands on the armrests without needing to think about it. For nineteen years I've been through this procedure everyday without ever knowing what was being done to me, without ever asking, or even thinking to ask.

I force myself not to shudder again. It's like i've spent my entire life as a character on the view screen, part of the world but at the same time not really there. Now Master has shown me that I don't have to be a passive passenger in my own life anymore, and if I don't have to be, neither do my sisters.

Feeling renewed with fresh purpose, I hold still as Doctor Walker moves the scanner around my head. I feel a slight chill in my cheek, but that's all as she moves the tablet down my body. For all his oddness, it seems Marvin was right about the compound not finding the communication implant.

My neck and shoulders receive barely a moment's attention from the scanner, but my chest causes Doctor Walker to pause. "What in the stars," she mutters to herself, tapping on her tablet with a frown etched into her forehead.

"Stand up," she says without her usual kind inflection. I quickly rise to my feet, the tiled floor feeling even colder than the mud outside. Tapping a control on the base of my recently vacated chair with her foot Dr Walker causes the entire seat to rise a few inches into the air, powered by an Anti-grav motor, before she pushes it away with a nudge from her hip.

I keep my arms by my sides as she walks around me, muttering to herself so quietly that I can't even make out what she's saying. Would my new lungs show up on the scanner? Surely after all the trouble Mr. X and his department went to hide my communication chip they wouldn't leave such an obvious change so easily detectable, would they?

"Something's not right here," Dr. Walker finally says, looking from her scanner to me with a confused look.

"What's not right?" Without warning a man walks into the lab. Judging by his voice he's the same person that Dr. Walker sent out of the room before. Momentarily forgetting my training—again—I glance over at the entranceway, feeling a lump rise in my throat as I catch sight of him.

I don't know his name. I've always thought of him as Suit-man in my head. If Dr. Walker looks at my sisters and I as if there's something valuable inside us, Suit Man looks at us as if we were hollow. We are trained to not see ourselves as people, but It takes a particularly vicious type of human to see us as less than that.

"Nothing," Dr. Walker says a little too quickly, causing her to wince. "I mean nothing bad," she corrects. "Rose should be sick, but it seems the passive effects of the medication last longer than we expected."