by Aya DeAniege
Of course, there were women in the military, but they didn't see slum women as people. We were an infestation to them. Each woman would mean a multitude of more poor people in the next generation. Each of us was the mother that abandoned them.
So they didn't care.
That cold-hearted, borderline sociopathic behaviour is what won us a war. Doesn't make it right, though.
Somehow life went on.
A month after the riots began all word of them just stopped.
I was still in the Program building because all of us were on lock down for our safety. During that month I had no idea what was happening with Nathaniel either. Mr. Wrightworth did his best, but the government had put a gag order on pretty well everything, especially anything that might have led back to the riots.
It was another three weeks before I was pulled in and formally offered a contract. I made certain who the contract was from, then accepted without reading the terms. I trusted Nathaniel and Mr. Wrightworth not to screw me over.
For a majority of the country, life simply went on the way it had before the riots. Perhaps a little stricter, with more scars, but everyone was getting up and going to work in the morning, eating the same food as before, living in the same places.
And then there was me.
Accepting a contract with Nathaniel and getting ready to face the biggest fight of my life. The same day I took the contract, I was contacted by the prosecution and told of the impending trial of Albert Edwards.
Life had never been so complicated.
How I yearned for the days when I could just be tied up and spanked.
Chapter One
“Nathaniel,” Mr. Wrightworth said warmly, opening his arms.
Nathaniel slipped into them as I watched, and hugged his old friend. The two shared a smile, and then their masks were back in place. They were feeling free, but cautiously so. Until their contract ran out, they were still very much held by it. From my count, it was almost seven months until they were free. The two of them probably knew how many days, maybe even how many hours until they were done for good.
“Who's this?” Nathaniel asked.
“This is Isabella," Mr. Wrightworth said.
Nathaniel's icy green eyes flickered over me, then turned to Mr. Wrightworth as they narrowed to pinpricks. The man's lips pressed into a thin line and all other emotion drained from his face.
“I meant the other one,” Nathaniel snapped, his hands sliding into his pockets.
The three piece suit Nathaniel was wearing was, I swear, the same one he had worn when we had first met. Each of his suits was just a little different than the other, though I couldn't always pick out the differences. His feet were bare as per usual.
Even the sight of the man excited me. He was mine again, and I was his.
How I want to ravage that man.
“Oh,” Mr. Wrightworth turned and looked past me, to the blonde woman holding a clipboard. ''Oh, that's Susanne. Condition sixteen.”
“I thought you meant a man,” Nathaniel said.
“No, I meant a woman," Mr. Wrightworth said with a bright smile. "We need to be very cautious with everything left to do with Isabella Martin and the Program. I will be the one to take her to and from the trial. I will be the one visiting her once a week and calling every other day. Susanne here is like an auditor."
“But why a woman?” Nathaniel asked.
“You know why a woman," Mr. Wrightworth said. "A man might get distracted by her, or by you, or by me. He might let something go that shouldn't be let go. A woman, on the other hand, is less likely to do so."
“She's wearing the pin.”
“Yes, she is a feminist,” Mr. Wrightworth said brightly.
The feminist movement was something that had been around since the founding of the country. They even had their own political party. The Feminist Party was why we had free birth control and feminine products, why pregnant women had access to neonatal vitamins and whatever life-saving medical they required at no cost to them.
After the mother and child had left the hospital, however, they stopped caring.
They were also known by rich people as biting, vicious creatures. A few bad apples had literally attacked politicians and those who dared to express their right of free speech and disagree with any stance the Feminist Party held.
In the end, the party had good ideas but was lead by terrible people who never should have been given control over a national party. All feminists were painted with the same brush of 'crazy' just for wearing the little gender symbol pin they had chosen to represent their ideals.
“Fer fucks sakes, the last feminist I met nearly took my head off for suggesting that women are naturally inclined to want children,” Nathaniel said loudly. “At no point did you tell me that this was the person who you'd be sending. There was plenty of time to do so.”
Of course, some rich folk had very real reason to worry about being around a feminist. A Dom who wanted to tie and beat a sub who also happened to be a woman? Yes, Nathaniel had a lot to fear from the auditor, and I think that was one of the reasons she was chosen, in the end.
“Susanne was chosen an hour before we left the building, the first four choices backed out when they discovered that it was Isabella they would be auditing,” Mr. Wrightworth murmured. “Not all feminists are assholes.”
“Is she aware—”
“I know about the contract and that the pair of you are part of what is being referred to as 'the community' and you are involved in BDSM. I've been told to expect to see bruises, welts, and even cuts on Miss. Martin. I have done work with therapists and am mainly only here to make sure consent isn't violated at any point."
Nathaniel simply stared at Mr. Wrightworth. I understood the look.
He had been asking Mr. Wrightworth a question and had been interrupted by someone else. It was disrespectful for someone else to interrupt. Even if Susanne, who I had spent almost no time with, had been trying to reassure Nathaniel.
I stood silent and waiting, having not been greeted yet.
Before we had left the Program building, Mr. Wrightworth had pulled me to the side and been very clear as to the expectation for me during the first meeting. Until I was handed over, Mr. Wrightworth still saw me as his, and his sub was going to behave. That meant not speaking unless spoken to, not correcting someone who had done wrong, and not running over and jumping on Nathaniel.
He had also reminded me of my promises to Nathaniel, the last time I had seen him.
I just had to make it through the introductions.
We stood in that same room with the wicker furniture. Patrick had shown us in and was standing to the side with his eyes downcast and hands clasped before him.
Those who had signed contracts before the riots were not removed unless they caused problems. For the most part, those who had previously signed contracts were left to themselves. The only parts of the Program that continued to run checked on contractees and removed or rescued a few of them.
Otherwise, the Program buildings were on lockdown just like the slums.
“May I offer drinks?” Patrick asked, drawing the eyes of the sadists.
“Wine for Miss. Martin,” Mr. Wrightworth said.
Patrick bowed and moved to the bar. I watched him go, then turned my attention to Nathaniel.
“Those brown eyes of yours are screaming out what you're thinking,” Nathaniel said to me, then motioned to the seat behind me. “Have a seat.”
I sat, smoothing out the grey skirt of my Program-issued dress. Mr. Wrightworth sat to one side of me, and Susanne remained standing. Mr. Wrightworth had been kind enough to explain to her that unless she was invited to sit, she should stand instead.
Patrick brought a bubbling glass to me.
“Sorry, it seems we're out of wine, I only have champagne to offer. Would you like some, Sir?”
“Oh, please,” Nathaniel said.
“Yes, Sir,” Patrick said, moving back to the bar.
I took the glass in my hand and sipped it. Champagne, for those who have never had it, does not have the bubbles of carbonated drinks. The bubbles are much finer. They seem to remain in your mouth much longer than the liquid does. The sparkling popping almost made me giggle.
The taste on the other hand...
I did not like champagne the first time I tried it. To my mouth, it tasted like slum beer mixed with a terrible hangover. Which unfortunately I knew the taste of such a thing. Pressing my lips together, I considered the glass and the streams of bubbles flooding up from the bottom.
I wanted the bubbles but didn't like the taste.
Looking at Nathaniel, I saw his lip twitch. The ice in his eyes warmed slightly. Brazenly, I raised the glass to sip as our eyes remained locked.
No doubt he saw the disgust on my face at the taste, then saw the curiosity as my brain tried to reconcile the flavour with those delightful bubbles.
Champagne has grown on me over the years, just as an excellent red wine has.
Patrick brought Nathaniel a glass of champagne and then returned to his place.
“You had mentioned other conditions on the phone,” Nathaniel said. “Which were not presented to me before hand. While I trust you, I don't trust the Program's vanilla interpretation of conditions.”
“Susanne has the list, Susanne?” Mr. Wrightworth said, turning towards the woman.
“The presence of a Program approved auditor—that would be me—to visit and ensure proper treatment of Miss. Martin by the son of her assailant."
“Whoa!" Nathaniel said, sitting forward and thumping his glass onto the table. "My father and I are hardly the same. I don't think the official record should state that your auditor is here to protect Darling from me like I have the same desires as he does."
“You both enjoy beating women. Just because your victims are willing, does not mean that you are two entirely different creatures. Though we recognize that you have control over your desires, we do not wish to risk Miss. Martin's health by not being cautious enough.
“Visitation—”
“You don't get to accuse me of being a rapist and murderer, and then just continue like nothing happened."
“With all due respect, Mr. Edwards, I get that you don't like me and that I'm a blight because I'm a woman speaking my mind, but that doesn't give you the right to be disrespectful to me. I am here to represent the Program, and if you want this contract, you need to listen to me and work with me, not against me because I can and will pull the contract if I feel you are uncooperative."
“He doesn't have a problem with you because you're a woman,” I said.
“He likes his women subservient.”
“No, he likes his submissives, subservient,” I corrected. “He doesn't like you because you're a stranger and in the way. Nathaniel likes strong women.”
“I've never said that,” Nathaniel said with a frown and a shake of his head.
“If you don't like strong women, perhaps I should get going,” I responded.
Mr. Wrightworth made a sound that might have been a choke or a laugh. The man rubbed at his lips as he stared up at the ceiling. I caught the scathing look that Nathaniel shot Mr. Wrightworth as I tried to keep track of everyone's reactions.
The Master was amused, he liked to see Nathaniel in awkward positions, however. The Sir was annoyed. The auditor was boiling with anger.
For myself, I had taken control of the situation. I felt like stripping off the Program dress and laying claim to the wicker room.
Master had forbidden it, however. Until I was handed over officially, I was still His, and Master had been very clear as to how he would hurt me if I disobeyed that rule again.
My heart beat a little faster at the idea, craving that sort of punishment. The roiling in my belly tempted me towards that action, causing me to glance to Mr. Wrightworth. The man's head turned slightly to the side. He reached out and flicked Susanne in the arm gently.
“Shall I get back to the conditions?” Susanne asked.
“Yes, please,” Nathaniel said, picking up his glass once more.
“Visitation with the family is a must.”
Nathaniel, who had been in the process of taking a sip, choked on champagne. He coughed several times, champagne threatening to dribble down his chin. He pulled out a kerchief, wiping at his lips to dry them.
“What?" he demanded once he had thoroughly dried his lips.
“Izzy needs to go home.”
“I tried to argue against it,” I said with a grimace.
“Her family are now aware that she is still alive, as are most of the slums. The trouble being, they know who she is and where she came from, along with the slum to which she belongs. This needs to be resolved. You need to take her home for a visit."
They were aware I was alive because I had been listed as Albert Edwards' surviving victim. As one on the list of victims, my family had been notified of the impending trial and told of my whereabouts. They were also informed that while I had come to Albert because of the contract, I had not signed a contract with Albert.
My family was unaware as to my status, or anything to do with the community or about my sexual appetites.
All they knew was that I was alive and taking a new contract with the same man who had held the first contract.
“A rich man walking the streets of the slums, is that a good idea right now?" Nathaniel asked.
“It needs to happen, within two weeks,” Susanne said in a tone that commanded no more questions or excuses. “Church, I need to visit it.”
“Let's just assume that my response to every condition is the same,” Nathaniel muttered.
“I've already contacted Ezekiel," Mr. Wrightworth said. "He will make sure Oberon and the other famed ones are not present, including any who are from the Program itself. The board understands that many members would be missing, but require it because there are no video systems at the church. It's an audit, everywhere Izzy goes, she goes. Try to tell Izzy she can't go to church."
“Just fucking try,” I said.
“I guess you've already tried to talk her out of it," Nathaniel said to Mr. Wrightworth.
“I tried beating it out of her," Mr. Wrightworth purred in response. "Goodness, I had a great amount of fun, but the answer was the same, in the end. She wouldn't feel right without the church, it's not just a dalliance with her, Nathaniel."
“If going will make her happy, I will. But that bitch needs to keep her mouth shut.”
“I'm not to speak at all unless I need to ask about Izzy's participation,” Susanne said quickly. “If I do so, I could lose my job. I am to wear red at the door, does that make sense?”
“Damn,” Nathaniel muttered.
“I'll make sure she wears red,” I said.
“I suppose you also want to view a session,” Nathaniel said.
“No, but anything you do to her, she gets to do to you,” Susanne said.
“Except penetration,” Nathaniel said.
“No, the condition was everything,” Susanne said.
“I lack the necessary equipment to penetrate him,” I said.
“The nurse who saw to you said they make toys like that,” Susanne said quickly, meeting my eyes.
Nicole, Nicole had been the nurse to see to me just before I left the Program building. I was surprised that Susanne hadn't made a comment on the fact that Nicole knew what pegging was. I was also surprised that Nicole made such a comment in front of a vanilla auditor.
“I'm not going to do that to him. Condition one was that if I'm uncomfortable, either with the conditions or what was going on, I can withdraw consent and none of you can make me do what I don't want to do.”
“Then he'll just make you say that you're uncomfortable doing everything else.”
“Goodness no,” Mr. Wrightworth purred out. “He wouldn't do that, would you Nate?”
I turned back in time to see the tremble that ran through Nathaniel. Of course, he would deny nothing
of Mr. Wrightworth. Those words had sent a jolt of electricity down my back. I couldn't imagine what it was like to be on the receiving end of that tone.
“We discussed before,” Nathaniel said, “about teaching her how to be a Domme, it only makes sense that we start by allowing her to do to me what I've done to her. She already knows how those things feel to receive. Now she should learn how to give.”
“No one can... play?” Susanne turned to me. I nodded in response to the question. “No one can play with Izzy unless someone from the Program pre-approves them. Mr. Wrightworth is not someone who can pre-approve, nor can I. Anyone who wishes to, must submit their real first and last name and have a background check run on them. Your word is not good enough for the background check to be circumvented.
“Mr. Wrightworth will take her to the trial, along with myself, to prevent you from being outed.”
“Three more days,” Nathaniel muttered.
He wasn't talking about the contract. I knew that. The contract still had months to go, but I did recall Nathaniel saying something about the board of his company being mainly vanilla. Back in those days, companies had moral contracts or something of that sort, which meant that if anything came to light that the board didn't like—for example, having your father and their previous CEO outed as a homicidal maniac?—they could ask for the resignation of the one involved.
“What was that?” Susanne asked.
“Really?” Mr. Wrightworth asked.
“He wouldn't sell," Nathaniel said with a smile. "But the others are in my pocket. There's a vote of non-competence going through, and he will be forced to retire early. The company will be mine and then it won't matter who knows. I too will be attending the trial when I can. Support is a sub-clause after all."
Mr. Wrightworth seemed to grumble to himself, then looked at Susanne.
