Wilt

by Rae, Nikki

  The cabin was the same one I’d flown inside the first time, only now it was too bright. Too sharp. It didn’t hit me until Mr. B sat down in the seat across from me—I was permitted to sit for safety reasons until after the plane took off—that he wasn’t merely escorting me from the car to the plane.

  “You’re coming?” I whispered as Master Lyon walked up front to speak to the pilot, I assumed.

  “I’m not leaving you.” His eyes bored into me, and he seemed like a different person.

  I had to look away.

  In robotic fashion, Master Lyon came back, buckled his seatbelt, and the plane took off. I was almost grateful afterwards that I wasn’t allowed on the furniture for the rest of the day; the momentum made me dizzy and it was easier to stay upright if I took away the risk of falling over. Soon, it was best that I completely lie down on the rug in front of the couch. My ears popped so loud and so often I wanted to scream and the room around me felt weighted. And that was without the added thought that we were 30,000 feet in the air, hurling through the clouds at break-neck speed.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for it all to pass, but if anything, it became much worse. This all happened within the span less than five minutes, but it felt like much longer before Mr. B left his chair and came to my side.

  I felt him smooth the hair from my face and I cracked one eye open. He was reaching somewhere above me and the sudden voice made me jump upright to see he was pressing the intercom button.

  “Yes sir?” a male voice said on the other end.

  “Could you please bring some water and the pills in the aid box?”

  “Be right there, sir,” came the immediate reply.

  Then it was silent again. Mr. B stayed knelt beside me, helping me into a more comfortable sitting position. I glanced in the direction I expected Master Lyon to be sitting and found he was no longer there. Most likely gone to whatever private quarters he had utilized on my journey to France.

  “How about we get this coat off you?” Mr. B asked, hand on my shoulder and waiting for permission.

  I nodded, unzipping it myself while he peeled it away from my shoulders. Already I felt less restricted and I could breathe more easily. My ears still popped, so I kept my eyes mostly closed even though it did nothing to stop it.

  “Are you going to be sick, Miss Doe?” Mr. B asked.

  I managed to look up at him and shake my head. By that time, I could see the door up ahead opening and the disembodied voice from earlier materialized in front of us. It was the same boy I’d seen before with fair skin and dark hair.

  He set down a tray on the coffee table; a glass of water, a package of gum, a sleeve of crackers, and a pill bottle sat on top.

  Mr. B took the water and handed it to me along with two pink pills from the bottom. I didn’t bother asking what it was, gulping them down and handing him the glass as soon as I was finished.

  “Feel better, Miss,” the boy said after a long time. Then he disappeared back through the door to wherever it was he went on the other side.

  I unwrapped the gum and chewed, waiting for the door to fully close before I asked, “How much does he know?”

  Mr. B sat back the same way as me, legs in front of him and back against the couch. I appreciated that he remained on the same physical level as me, if only for a little while.

  “Oliver was the very reason Master and Mistress Lyon were discovered,” he said. “They liberated him from a Compound in England over five years ago.” He unwrapped his own stick of gum and stuck it in his mouth. I waited as patiently as I could for him to continue as he chewed.

  “It wasn’t a planned thing,” he said. “They were there as Suitors only to observe what was going on and then Oliver asked for help. They went through the entire courting process and were finally able to get him out, but Master Lyon never took slaves.” He cleared his throat. “He’d set up others in the resistance to rescue boys and girls, but he and his wife had never taken one in. No one thought this suspicious except for Jäger.”

  I drank more water. He opened the package of crackers and handed me a few before taking one for himself. He ate it before he went on. “The Wolf took it upon himself to investigate further, showing up unannounced while Oliver was still adjusting to freedom under their care.”

  I blinked a few times, convinced I was imagining the story he told because it was so private, like these weren’t his secrets to tell. Mr. B was telling me perhaps even more than my very Owner, a man who had stripped me completely bare yet revealed next to nothing about himself.

  “So,” I said slowly, cautious for fear of brining the popping back to my ears, “if not for my transfer, they would have not only exposed their involvement in the resistance, but Master Jäger would have made sure Oliver was taken back to his Compound, never to leave again.”

  I didn’t add the last part out loud: just like me.

  Mr. B nodded once, slowly, giving me a relieved expression as if he was glad he didn’t have to explain.

  So that was three lives that hinged on mine now. I wasn’t sure if I felt genuinely empathetic because of this fact, but what I did know was that it was unfair. In the past, I’d felt this way. That everything in the world—inside or outside of the Order—was stacked against me, set to tumble down at any slight disturbance. Over the years, I’d trained myself to ignore this feeling of injustice. It didn’t matter in the end, did it? The Mainworld was blind to the Order’s true practices and beliefs and the resistance, although growing, was too damaged and terrified to retaliate in a way that would make things better.

  But now, I felt that injustice. That hollowness of a starved belly or the sting of leather against tender skin. In an attempt to stop these thoughts from giving birth to more, I shifted my focus back to the boy.

  “So if he’s free, why is he the servant on this plane?” I asked.

  Mr. B shrugged and from the corner of my eye I could make out a hint of embarrassment in his expression. “Some of us may never be completely free,” he said. “For some, there will always be part of the Order that makes them feel safe simply out of habit and instinct.”

  No matter how much distance we managed to put between us, our old lives, and the Order, the more we tried to forget the thorns they stuck in us, I supposed we would forever be marked. Some of us cared about hiding this and did it well while people like Oliver and Mr. B—I was beginning to believe—preferred to stay subservient in some way.

  “It’s like…” He sighed as he stared at the ceiling and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s like a deep need embedded in us. It’s different for everyone, but in Oliver’s case, he feels at peace with his past if he can experience some aspect of it in a way he knows is safe.”

  I didn’t understand any of it. At least that was what I wanted. Deep down, I knew on some level that I’d willingly be Elliot’s if he’d have me, that if that meant giving up a small bit of my freedom, I would feel better living that way than walking around in the real world with a piece of me missing.

  Nothing I had gained through living within the Order had prepared me for life without my Owner’s constant presence, but despite how he was currently treating me or what was about to happen, he was truly my Owner. He made me feel safe and he made the noise in my head stop. If there was anything in this perfect world where I would one day not only be free, but free with Master Lyon, I would always be his.

  It was as if an hour had passed between us when it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

  “Where…is he?” I finally asked.

  Mr. B seemed to be lost in thought as well, pausing for too long. “I’m afraid you won’t see much of the Master before landing.”

  As he stood, it indicated the conversation was over. He wasn’t going to elaborate any more. I’d been mistaken; we weren’t on the same level. He would always be loyal to my Owner and my Owner first. Any secrets Master Lyon kept were safe with him.

  “Would you like some help to your room, Miss Doe?” he as
ked, hand extended. “I know you can’t lie in bed, but it’s dimmer in there and I can make the floor comfortable for you.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek as the image of the makeshift bed in the greenhouse flashed through my mind. Had he done that for me, or my Owner?

  Without a word, I took his hand and he helped me to my feet. The motion made me feel sick for a second but I chewed the minty gum and it passed.

  He paused at the bookshelf. “Would you like to take something to read?”

  I doubted I would have the attention span but I blindly chose a paperback, not bothering to look at the title or author.

  Once we’d made it the short distance to the room I’d last stayed in when I was here, he set to work stripping the bed and forming one on the carpet. I lay down without protest, letting him cover me as I turned on my side and stared at the wall. I tried to make my mind as blank as the surface in front of me. If this was my last day of borrowed freedom, I wouldn’t let my thoughts hold me prisoner. I had a long, long time ahead of me for that.

  Eleven

  I knew the moment the plane would land even before Mr. B came to collect me so I could buckle back up in my seat. Though it hadn’t exactly been loud before I had disappeared for our hour-long trip, when I emerged it was even more silent. There was no white noise in the air that held the promise of even a stilted conversation. Mr. B sat in his seat across from me and Master Lyon remained unseen, most likely awaiting landing in his own quarters so he wouldn’t have to face me. Mr. B looked out the window as I stared at my knees. Landing was smoother than takeoff and with a new piece of gum, I successfully warded off my nausea and my ears no longer popped. Of course, I couldn’t even focus on that because I chose to look outside.

  The world had darkened and the sky was a stream of blue and indigo. It was a vast contrast to Master Lyon’s home. There were no trees, the grass was a dried brown. As far as I could see, there was nothing but the tall silhouettes of skyscrapers and other buildings, their many tiny lights winking on and off intermittently.

  I clenched my teeth as the wheels of the plane made contact with the pavement. Before I returned to clutching the armrests, I snapped the shades shut so I wouldn’t be tempted to glance in that direction again.

  Once the room stopped moving and the plane completely stopped, Mr. B unbuckled his seatbelt and I did the same, standing on shaky legs. Before I could resume my expected position on the floor, he placed a hand on my shoulder to stop me.

  “The Master has requested you bathe and dress in the clothing provided in the bathroom.

  I gulped, feet glued to the spot. Something in his stance shifted just by a fraction and the hand on my shoulder became more reassuring. “Would you like me to walk you, Miss Doe?”

  The words were said in a professional tone but his tender expression hadn’t changed.

  I nodded, unable to answer in any other way.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, Mr. B led me across the cabin the room I’d just left, straight towards the attached bathroom. He stopped when we reached the door.

  “You have time,” he said, making sure I was looking at him before he continued. “Just wash and dress. That’s all you have to do.”

  He didn’t need to say these things. I knew what I was meant to do; the duties I was being ordered to perform. Yet the simplicity in it was strangely comforting. That was all I had to do right now. I didn’t need to think, or cry, or scream. I didn’t need to fight.

  He bowed and left, closing the bedroom door behind him so the room was once again dim.

  I didn’t know what awaited me on the other side of that door. My sweaty palm turned the knob and I was greeted by the pleasant scent of lavender. Someone had already filled the tub with steaming water and I wasn’t sure how that could have happened unless they’d done it while we were landing. I wanted to believe my Owner had drawn it, but in all likelihood, it had probably been Oliver.

  I almost missed the box wrapped in shiny paper and wrapped in a white bow. It sat on top of the sink, and when I closed the door I found a black garment bag hanging on the back.

  My impatience told me to open these things right away, but I ultimately decided I would wait. I was in no rush to find what I would be presented in for another man.

  Instead, I stripped out of my clothes and washed. Part of me wanted as much time as possible and soak in the feeling that would more than likely be my last remotely relaxing experience, but the thought of lying still with nothing to distract me from the dwindling minutes of my freedom made me rush through the motions. I was in and out, clean and warm in less than ten minutes.

  Towel wrapped around myself, I stalled the inevitable by combing my wet hair, but once that was finished there was nothing else I could do. I picked up the box, sat in the chair, and unwrapped the paper.

  Black tissue paper covered whatever lay inside, a small card neatly placed on top, waiting for me to read:

  My dear Doe,

  I trust you had a good flight. Marius has informed me you’ve been very well-behaved so I thought a reward was in order. I hope you enjoyed your bath. Here is what I want you to do now:

  The air in my lungs became trapped for a moment and I had to pause to take a proper breath.

  Dry your hair with a towel and make sure it is brushed. In this box you will find part of what I want you to wear, and the rest is in the bag on the door. You’re doing well. Don’t disappoint me.

  –E

  My head spun with his handwritten words. It had been done in deep blue pen, the letters smooth, the cursive neither elegant nor rushed. There was no indication whatsoever that he was as nervous or as scared as me.

  Except for how he’d signed it.

  I caught myself smiling for the briefest of moments before I wiped it from my face. Still, it gave me the strength, knowing Elliot was still in there. It was maybe one of the only reasons I didn’t crack upon inspecting the contents of what I was to wear.

  The shoes took up most of the box. They were black suede heels, thicker at the bottom to accentuate how tall they would make me with the help of the added six inches. Beneath them was an expensive-looking garter belt, stockings, and the black lacey underwear I would wear.

  In the bag, the dress was made out of a soft, stretchy fabric which gripped each and every contour as I adjusted it over my body. The front wasn’t so bad, as it covered me up to my clavicle in a straight horizontal line, but the dress itself was thin enough that anyone could see my nipples, hardened or not. The back was only slightly looser, completely open save for the tiny strip of fabric that wrapped around my lower half, which stopped mid-thigh.

  I had to sit on the floor to put on my shoes and then lean against the wall as I stood. Readjusting the hem so the garter and top half of the stockings were covered, I carefully took a few steps until I was more used to my new height.

  My eye caught my clothes on the floor, wrinkled and scattered, and I almost contemplated changing back into them, ripping apart this ridiculous dress the way I had at the Compound.

  Then I blinked, took a breath, and realized it was no longer an option.

  Master Lyon’s words echoed in my mind even though he hadn’t said them aloud: You’re doing well. Don’t disappoint me.

  I forced the muscles in my wrist to open the door. Though my legs felt bolted to the floor and I thought it impossible to move, by the time the door had swung all the way open, I’d convinced myself to take a small step.

  I was greeted by my Owner as well as Mr. B, both wearing equally black suits, black shirts, and matching black ties. Mr. B wasn’t wearing his glasses. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him without them.

  “Doe,” my Owner breathed, unashamed to openly scan every inch of me. Mr. B, for the first time ever, did the same and I felt my chest tighten. “Well done.”

  I gave him a silent bow of my head as a response, eyes downcast.

  “There’s one more thing you need but it’s in the car,” he said casually, holding his elbow ou
t to me. “Shall we?” The rigidity of his smirk matched the sensation in my ribs.

  At the exit door, Oliver handed us each our coats and then we were back out in the world.

  The air around us was less cold than it had been at home as they both led me down the stairs, Mr. B leading the way and Master Lyon with his hand on the small of my back.

  I stumbled but caught myself on the railing. It was no longer my home. And in all likelihood, it never would be again. I stared at my feet the rest of the descent, focusing on nothing else but the next step in front of me. That was what I should do; only let my mind wander to the next part of what I could see ahead.

  There was no use worrying about plummeting to the bottom and getting hurt when I couldn’t possibly fall if I watched for a potential hazard.

  The pavement was almost too hard under my feet, my ankles bone straight and putting pressure on my heels in the new shoes. Before us was a black car, engine running.

  “You may sit on the seat for the ride,” Master Lyon said, opening the door for us as Mr. B circled around the car to put luggage in the trunk I presumed. The car was more spacious than the one we’d taken to the hangar and I was even more grateful I didn’t have to sit on the floor in this dress or heels.

  “Thank you, sir, I said, repeating the same head bow as before and then climbing inside as carefully as I could. The backs of my legs met the warm leather and I couldn’t help but utter a tiny sigh of relief. I even leaned my head backwards, feeling the same heated seat behind me on my damp hair. It would become a curly mass of caged fire when it was finally dry.

  Master Lyon sat beside me while Mr. B shut the trunk at last. Then I heard him step back around the car, open the passenger side door, and do something up front before he came to the back to join us. I couldn’t see anything past the dark tinted partition separating the back of the car from the driver.

  Shortly, he was sitting on my other side so I was caged in by him and my Owner. The door was too loud when it closed all three of us in. In Mr. B’s lap, he held a medium-sized black velvet box. He handed it to Master Lyon, reaching across my lap as politely as he could yet still skimming the fabric of my dress and making me aware of how thin it was.