I looked to Erik for help, for direction. He nodded slowly at me. The other slave woman walked right over to Malachi, without hesitation, even smiling. She wanted to please him. Perhaps she thought she'd be safer that way, but I knew what Erik had tried to teach me: Do not react I chanted in my head as my mantra, and I too walked over to Malachi. I would have no problem not reacting sexually, no question about that, but I might want to bite his face off, the bastard was so disgusting.
He touched the other slave's nipples, alternately, as she sat on his knee. He took my nipples the same way with his other hand, as I sat on his opposite knee. I wanted to spit in his face. He dipped his fingers between our legs, and I heard a slight moan escape the other woman's mouth. She looked at me with fear in her eyes as they welled up. I didn't react at all.
Malachi just laughed. "Erik," he spoke cruelly. "Your slave is a dead fish. I think she should be punished later for it. If you'd like to get rid of her I understand. Though she is an exquisite beauty, unparalleled really, I can't imagine she has brought you much pleasure. Let Stephen take her off your hands. You can have this one." He turned to the other slave on his lap. "She is sopping wet with arousal. I think we could get her to do just about anything," and again, he laughed. "I can find someone else to toy with this evening."
Erik came over to me and looked in my eyes, and then looked at Malachi. "I told you. I enjoy a challenge, Malachi. I will keep her," he paused, smiling at Malachi, "for now." Erik extended his hand to me.
"Fine." Malachi released me to Erik. "She is all yours," and then he paused, mimicking Erik's words, "for now." He licked his lips and looked me up and down, slowly, humiliatingly. "Mmmm. Mmmmm. I can understand why you want to keep her." His composure changed. "But too much work for me right now," and he turned his attention back to the squirming woman on his lap, and Erik and I took our seats again. "Yes. I think I've found my plaything for the night, maybe longer. Sorry Gregory." He spoke to a man who had relinquished his slave willingly.
"Not a problem,” he laughed. “Use her any way you see fit. I would like to begin with this woman Erik has just tied, if you don't mind?" Gregory turned to Arthur. "May I?"
"By all means." Arthur went to her. He slowly drew his fingers up and down the front of her body. She struggled and moaned, and again, I couldn't tell if she was enjoying herself or not. He looked to her. "You tell me when you're about to come, Katherine.” He was stern. "If you should come, I will leave you to fend for yourself. You are mine until I decide otherwise. But if you choose to continue to disobey me, you will stay here, in the main compound, alone without me. You have earned this punishment."
"Yes, Sir," she said, trembling. She was a gorgeous woman. She looked very different from many of us. She was darker, more exotic looking. She was one of us, but it wasn't clear where she had gotten her tan complexion. And her hair was a chestnut brown, thick and glossy. Her curves were exaggerated, making her waist tiny. I looked at Erik who looked aroused by the woman in front of us. I pushed down feelings of jealousy, how absurd, but I couldn't help the flush of envy stirring within me, as I saw Erik paying attention to another woman, staring at her, lustful, in awe of her beauty like the rest of us. He didn't even look in my direction.
Gregory began and chose to pinch her with relentless cruelty on her ass and inner thighs. He laughed against her shivering body, restrained without but a tiny bit of movement. He taunted her verbally. Each pinch invited a little pink welt to appear against her smooth, tan skin. He dotted her with levity and she begged Arthur with her eyes to make it stop. He finally asked Gregory to stop, he was getting so overzealous. A softer side to Arthur was slowly being revealed as he watched his slave’s torment at the hands of another man.
Stephen was the next to approach the woman from behind. He stood there doing nothing, as she panted with nervous anticipation, and then he slapped her ass, suddenly, harshly, as she screamed out. Arthur stood in the front of her and stroked her nipples, balancing the pain with pleasure. She writhed into her master as he smiled down at her helpless body through Stephen's loud slaps. After I lost count, the woman’s ass was raw and red, and Stephen relented but not before having to reposition the bulge of his very erect cock.
And so it went. Man after man approached her, slapping her from behind, some with their belts, others with whips, and some with their bare hands like Stephen; the whole time, Arthur toyed with her nipples, her belly, her sex, her pleasure point on her clit. She screamed. She moaned. She pleaded for mercy. The only edicts Arthur made were no penetration and no blood.
At several points she told him she was about to come, and I couldn't believe my ears. I couldn't believe she would be able to come through all this. Some of the blows were cruel and harsh. Her body was drenched in sweat, covered in red welts and marks. Each time she told him, Arthur stopped all contact. "Good girl. Good slave," he would say soothingly, “but the answer is still no.”
I squirmed in my chair, knowing all too well these feelings of excruciating torment. I knew the feeling of not being allowed orgasm. Erik had shown me. I felt dirty watching this poor woman be tortured this way, but again, I was secretly and most utterly turned on. I felt for her. I couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same, confounding way towards Arthur that I felt towards Erik.
Suddenly, I felt Erik looking at me and his fingers brushed between my legs under the table. I gasped as he began to lightly run the tips of his fingers through my slit, burning me with his eyes. I was completely taken off guard, humiliated at how wet I was. He stopped and just smiled over at me, and then rose, knowing my secret. I was devastated with embarrassment.
It was his turn to punish the woman. I hadn't even thought about him doing this; I had half thought he wouldn't have to touch her at all. I felt my stomach tighten. No. I thought in my mind. I didn't want him to touch her. Was I jealous? Or was it that I didn't want to see him be cruel? I wanted to imagine him kind, gentle, not a part of this brutality. What was I even thinking? This was the man who took away my virginity, who had whipped me, who had given me over to Malachi’s lap to be tested. He wasn't kind, and I needed to remind myself of that.
Arthur stroked her head through her tears and pants, as Erik approached her from behind. "Finish her off," Malachi yelled. He still had his poor, unlucky slave of his lap, and I shuddered. He was cruel, her nipples bright red and swollen from his torture, her mouth dripping from saliva. And while Arthur appeared, at first, to be cruel, I couldn't help but notice that there was something about Arthur and his slave that seemed mutual.
Erik looked to Arthur. "What does she need, Arthur?" The two men seemed to have an understanding between them.
He laughed. "She needs to come, Erik, clearly. And yet, she has been so disobedient towards me, I can't allow it."
She looked at both men and I heard her voice, "Please…"
"Please what, Katherine?" I heard Arthur say.
"Please have mercy on me. I will obey you from now on, whatever pleases you, just," she struggled to breathe. "Please."
Erik traced his fingers across her backside, over her welts. I saw her shift and relax a bit into his touch. Did he have this effect on every woman? I hated and craved him in that moment.
"I think she's had enough," I heard Erik say in a whisper to Arthur and continued to caress her body.
Arthur followed suit from the front, showering her with gentle, nurturing touches. She moaned at the touches of the two men, and they didn't relent. I couldn't stand watching him with her, and yet, I couldn't look away. She swayed and moaned. This time, I was sure it was in ecstasy.
One of the other men yelled out, "Let her come! I want to see her come!"
Arthur kissed her mouth and Erik kissed her neck, her back. Their hands covered every inch of her body and she swayed and groaned audibly into Arthur’s mouth. She was close to coming; she was close to finding release and comfort. My stomach churned in a sea of jealous sickness.
Malachi stood up and silenced and stilled the
room with his abrupt movement. "Untie her. Enough! I need to go take care of my needs in private. Then we have meetings and work to do. We are still not safe from the enemy. Take your slaves back. Be sure they have done all their chores. Gentlemen, we shall meet back after suppertime to go over strategy. Until then." He turned to go. "And Arthur, get your slave in line, under control, or I will. Be sure she understands that your word, your order, is law. I will expect to see her obedience exhibited more satisfactorily upon request, or you will both pay the price." He was annoyed, borderline angry, and I couldn’t quite fathom why. But it changed the mood of the room entirely. And in that moment, I realized something: No one, not any one person, was safe.
With that, Malachi lifted his new slave into his embrace, biting her shoulder hard as she yelped out. Blood trickled out. "You, my dear, you will be shown what it means to be a slave." I cringed in cowardice, doing nothing to attempt to save her.
When Malachi left, Erik tenderly kissed the woman on her neck one more time and began to untie her. He looked at Arthur, "You made the right choice to stop now. I do believe she has learned her lesson. Take her back. Please her, Arthur. Take care of her. She has earned it."
When she was released, she collapsed into Arthur's arms. He kissed her face and mouth. "We shall see about you," he said to her, and I thought I saw a smile on her lips but I couldn't be sure.
Everyone left, some slaves being dragged by their hair, other slaves walking silently beside their masters. Erik turned to me and spoke softly, the deepness of his voice resonating with me in places I’d rather it didn’t. "Have you had enough to eat?"
My emotions, my arousal, my feelings…I was so jumbled, so confused, so conflicted. I both despised and stood in awe of this man in front of me. I wanted to hit him and jump into his arms all at once. Would he have spanked her? Whipped her? Would he have fucked her if asked? I was sure time would tell; I was sure this was not to be an isolated incident. The "training" Erik had put me through was too intense. No. I knew there was much more to come.
What had become crystal clear to me, however, was that I certainly would not be the only woman he'd be with, and I saddened at the thought. What? Did I think I would be his lover? His only conquest? That he would somehow grow to love me, or that I would grow to love him? How could I even care or think of such things? I was a slave. There were many of us, too many to count, so many for him to choose from. I was nothing to him. He just had a gentle nature. He didn't enjoy torturing women, but I was not special to him. And that realization also hurt me more than I cared to admit.
I started to well up. God. How weak could I possibly be? He took me in his arms. "Come. Let's go back. We can talk there."
"No!" I yelled at him. "I'll stay here, Erik. I don't want or need to go back with you.”
"Imogen, lower your voice, right now. You know not what you say. Stop it, before you get us both killed."
He grabbed a long, cloth napkin and tied it into my mouth, securing it behind my head. I have been gagged, I thought incredulously, and he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. It made me furious and the urge to cry evaporated.
As we exited, Stephen stood in the doorway and glared at Erik and then me, with that swarthy, lustful look in his eyes that truly scared me. What was I thinking? Stay here? In the main compound? Thank god Erik had a stronger will than me. I couldn't have been more stupid. Stephen's stare sent chills to the very core of my naked body.
He ran his fingers across my ass that hung in the air as he stopped Erik. "Careful, Erik. Do you hear me? I see the signs. Do not let her get under your skin. It will make you weak. Remember who she is, what her people have done to us. I want her. I think I would be a stronger teacher. I happen to know she's not a dead fish," and he grinned knowingly, evilly. "Just because Malachi doesn't know, doesn't mean he won't soon. I have no feelings for this slave. Give her to me before you get too deep."
"Stephen, I don't know what you're talking about," Erik barked back to him. "Remember who your superior is. Get out of my way. I have a slave to punish." And he pushed past Stephen.
Punish? Was he just covering, or was he going to put me through what I had witnessed with Katherine? And the thought somehow caused a twitch between my legs against the moisture I couldn’t deny that pooled there. Oh god. What was happening to me?
He didn't put me down until we were safely back at his place, in his small compound. He removed his self-made gag from my mouth, and I was ready to give him a piece of my mind when he spoke.
"You have pushed my limits today, Imogen. I have work to do. I expect the laundry done, the beds made, the compound cleaned, and dinner ready by 4:00 pm. Be bathed and have my bath drawn."
He spoke so coldly, so distantly, I simply responded with, "Yes, Sir." I felt a wave come over me and I stifled that uncontrollable need to cry. I didn't really know why. I was so lonely, so confused. I wanted to feel loved, to feel safe. I wanted to feel it with him, and I hated that I felt this way. I had tried to push him away, and that was my intention only moments before, until Stephen reminded me of the reality of my situation.
"Do not think about leaving here, for Christ's sake, Imogen. I don't think you really understand the severity of your situation, and I'm losing patience. Thank god you controlled yourself with Malachi, and…"
I accidentally cut him off. "It wasn't hard." I paused to see if I should continue. "I don't have to worry about reacting to him."
He smiled at that but then turned to leave. I couldn't help but feel a longing for him to stay.
"Erik," I called to him. I hoped he didn't hear the desperation in my voice. I couldn't believe how needy I felt, how scared I was for him to leave. "Please don't go."
"Please don't go?" he questioned. "Imogen, two minutes ago, I had to carry you back here. Or have you forgotten? I don't understand you," he spoke, exasperated.
"Neither do I," I said more forcefully than I intended, emotions welling up and bubbling over. I just felt so alone, so confused at my mixed and conflicting emotions. There was no other way to describe it. I should hate this man; I should despise what he had done to me. "I'm scared, Erik. I'm trying not to be, but I can't believe who I am now, what I've become. I feel so weak, so confused." I continued to stifle my tears that threatened to push forth.
He stepped in closer to me, and I felt my breath hitch. He took my hair in his hands and I froze at what he might do, at what I wanted him to do. He simply placed it gently down my back, and smoothed the pieces back, away my face. "I know, Imogen. I'm sorry. You have every right to be scared."
I continued, trying to find courage, "And watching you with that other woman…" I trailed. I wasn't sure what I was trying to tell him.
"Do not judge me when I am with the other soldiers, Imogen. I do what I need to do. It is not always the man I am or want to be."
"But…" I struggled to finish. "You cared for her. You made him stop. Do you care for all of us that way?" I realized I was both proud of the person he was and envious at the same time. It was a selfish, awful feeling to have. Of course I wanted him to be kind to others, and yet, I only wanted him to take care of me.
He grabbed my chin. "Imogen. Arthur got carried away. I believe he cares for Katherine and was trying to teach her a lesson. Not all of the soldiers have much empathy left. Some are hardened and cruel. I was helping him to come back to reality. Power is a great trip, a great sense of control. It feels good to have power. We can all get carried away when we feel in control like that; we can feel invincible, above common sense. But I know Arthur. He is a good man, not the men Malachi and Stephen are."
"I didn't expect you to…" my voice teetered on a whisper, "touch her."
He looked into my eyes like he was searching for some deep answer to the mystery of life. "If I didn't know better, I would think you are feeling jealous, Imogen. Are you? Feeling jealous? Would you prefer I touch only you?" I couldn't tell if he was being sincere or mocking me, and I realized how absurd I was being. How vulnerable I
was making myself.
"No, of course not," I reasoned. "I was just trying to make sense of things." I tried to change the subject. "Today was…intense. Scary. That's all. How many times will I be subjected to things like that?" I trembled at the thought.
His demeanor changed. "I don't know, Imogen. I really don't know. Hopefully not a lot. I'd like to keep you with me here, but with outbursts like you had today, you're going to jeopardize your safety. Arthur's rouse was the best thing that could have happened back there. There was something unspoken between Arthur and Katherine, something special. Wouldn’t you agree, Imogen?" He paused knowingly to make me look into his eyes.
He continued, "But Malachi was sniffing you out. Stephen wants you. You are beautiful, Imogen, very, very beautiful. It amazes me just how naïve you are to that fact. Arthur distracted the attention of the table. If Arthur hadn't lost control like that, I don't know what the day would have brought. I've seen Malachi at his worst, and this didn't even scratch the surface."
"Oh," I conceded, and he turned again to leave. I wanted to beg him to stay, to ask him if he found Katherine attractive, if he would make love to me again, but I didn't.
He sighed. He must have read my mind. I wanted him to kiss me. I couldn't believe I felt that way, but I did. I wanted to be comforted, to be loved…by him, and I knew the minute I thought it how absurd the idea was. I knew it wasn't really love, but a sense of security, safety, care. He drew me in an embrace and kissed my forehead. "Chores, Imogen. Be a good slave. I will see you at dinnertime."
"Yes, Sir," I said, swallowing hard, as I watched him leave.
He turned back, a small smirk spreading across his face. "And Imogen, perhaps later this evening, we can do something about what I felt under that table today."
My skin burned from my toes to my forehead in embarrassment, as I watched him walk out the door, leaving me standing there in a pool of my own self-indulgent guilt.
THE IMOGEN SERIES BOXED SET PART I: (Books 1-4) Page 6
