“I’m fine, Mistress Camille.” Like Sienna, the woman scared the shit out of her.
“Preston said he whipped you. I had to see for myself. I figured it had to be soft taps when he told me what happened.” Camille stared at her with cold, green eyes. “You… you tell me what happened.”
Fallon sat up, despite Camille’s suggestion. Her fingers found the welt on the inside of her thigh. “I was frightened,” she admitted, staring at the welt. “I was frightened, Mistress, because I’d seen Andrea after Sienna whipped her, and she was covered in red slashes and bruises. It looked so painful.”
“The first one, it barely hurt at all. It made me feel something inside, though. I think he might have kept whipping a little harder, because the last two burned.” Fallon blushed profusely. “By the third one, I had a hard time thinking about it. All I wanted was to feel him up against me, and when his hand touched the welt… I guess I lost it, Mistress.” Fallon looked up, and Camille was surprised to see tears. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong, Mistress.”
Camille wondered if the girl had actually been trained as a pain slut. Her eyes narrowed. “I see. And me… how would you feel if I said I wanted to whip you?”
Fallon shivered. “If Master Preston orders me to, I will, Mistress.”
“I can tell him it’s what I want to do,” Camille stated.
“And if he orders me to, I will, Mistress Camille.”
“What about what you want? Do you want me to whip you?”
“I want what the Master orders, Mistress.” Fallon did not understand the woman’s persistence. She risked adding, “But I don’t think I would like it.”
Camille’s face broke out in a smile. “Well, you’re honest. I like that. Come, dinner is ready.”
Camille had to remind her to put on a shift, and Fallon was still confused by her visit when they walked into the dining room to find Preston pacing. “Well?” he demanded. “Satisfied?”
“Yes, Preston, I’m satisfied,” Camille answered.
Preston was visibly relieved. Fallon sat by Preston’s side through dinner, while he discussed island business and something about acquisition trips, with Camille. At the end of dinner, Sonya brought him a wooden box after she cleared the dessert dishes. Fallon caught her and Tia peeking through an inch gap in the door.
Preston took a key out of his pocket, and told Fallon to put her feet in his lap. She watched wide-eyed as the cuffs that had been on her since she left Ellenton were removed. She gripped the table when the collar was unlocked. “Steady.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
He rubbed his hand over the box. “Do you know what’s in here?”
“I think so, Master.” Fallon’s eyes were filling, and she looked at Camille for rescue.
The woman nodded acceptance and encouragement. “I think you should introduce her to Chayton’s twins. She seems to have a bit in common with Alyssa.”
Preston looked up to answer her, and saw the two spies at the door. “You might as well come in,” he muttered. Even he was surprised when the entire household of slaves shuffled in, and the head trainer from the stables.
The man cleared his throat. “Sorry, Preston. Just stopped by to give you a report on the new mare.” The man turned red at the obvious lie.
“Yes, well, can it wait until morning?” Preston asked.
“Yes. Yes, sir, it can.”
Preston had not counted on an audience, and Camille was enjoying his discomfort. He straightened, and all the proud, masterful bearing filled his features as he looked at Fallon. “You know what is in here?” he repeated.
“Yes, Master.”
“You will follow my orders without question, no matter what I ask of you.”
Everything was said as a demand, but Fallon answered anyway. Her stomach was fluttering, and already her pussy was bereft that he was not inside her. She looked at the new faces, and leaned forward and whispered, “You’ll still get to whip me, right, Master?”
Sonya gasped and relayed Fallon’s question to the others, while Camille laughed softly.
“Yes,” Preston hissed.
“Yes, Master. I’ll always follow your orders without question,” Fallon answered in a quivering voice.
“If I tell you to lie naked on the table and let all the slaves have you, you will do it?”
Fallon paled, but leaned forward and asked, “I don’t know this ceremony. Am I supposed to do that?”
There were chuckles from some of the men, and his head slave arched a brow in expectation. “No, Fallon. I merely need you to acknowledge whether or not you would do it. I think you already answered… though I’m not so sure I’m pleased with your acquiescence,” he added.
“And you agree to wear my mark?”
Fallon was confused. “I’m already wearing three of them, Master.”
The slaves laughed, and she was even more bewildered. She did not know about the brand on their asses they all bore.
“Yes, Fallon?”
“Yes, Master Preston.”
Fallon watched him put a key in the lock, and her brows knit when she saw the second hole. Preston looked down the table. “Camille?”
She was one for dramatic affect, and Sonya was almost biting her nails, wondering if the Mistress was going to agree. Through dinner, they talked about business, and those waiting in the kitchen were frustrated when she could not give them any indication of Camille’s intentions.
“Within the week, you will let me have her for a day. I will not permanently mark her, nor will I damage her mind,” Camille replied.
Preston looked confused. “Why do you want her, then?”
“I want to whip her.” There were gasps and wide eyes from the onlookers. “And, Preston, she’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister. Even I can use some girl talk, once in a while.”
Camille rose and pulled the chain over her head holding the other key. While she knelt to put it in the empty socket in the box, she looked at Fallon. “This is my brother, Fallon. We grew together for nine months. With us, this is the most complete commitment we have. If you ever disobey him, I will come after you with more vengeance than any Master you could ever know.”
Fallon paled at her words and trembled, but then she looked up at Preston’s proud expression. “Mistress Camille, you will never have that opportunity.” She looked back up at Preston, and added in a whisper, “And if you don’t chill out, my Master might not let you baby-sit, either.”
Camille turned the key. “You definitely have to let her meet Alyssa. It will be fun to watch you and Chayton going nuts.”
The leather was embedded with silver, not the least bit garish as the bands were less than two inches wide. They held a power and connection that Fallon felt when they were locked into place, and she understood the exuberance on Courtney’s face that she had not understood at the time. The leathers meant safety, and servitude to one Master, that this facet of their society followed. Fallon had wished for an escape from Lewisville… and she found it as a slave on Six Masters Island.
THE END
Six Masters Island - De Lucia's Slaves Page 13