by KT McColl
"Yes, Sister."
"And how would you repay that gratitude?"
"It would depend, Sister."
She paused and then nodded. "That's fair," she said.
She got up and moved to the tray on which our drinks had been delivered. Picking up a key, she returned, holding my freedom in the palm of her hand.
I was angry. The dynamic had shifted. Whatever she might have said, the truth was that she held the key and whatever might happen, she and women like her would always do so.
Then again, she said that this was play. I'd been a fool to forget that. This was play and we were actors. When the curtain fell on whatever would happen tonight, she'd go back to being a Sister, and I would be the same Lowville farmhand that I was before.
I sighed when she unlocked the cage, enjoying freedom for the first time in weeks. The cage had embossed itself in my flesh.
"You poor, poor man," murmured the Sister.
Pity was the last thing I wanted from her. "On the bed," I said.
She complied without a word, returning to her role. She reclined on the mattress, hair splayed out on the pillow.
I remembered something Sol had once said when I was too young to know what he meant. Please her first.
I put the cage episode behind me.
Standing by the bed, I just looked at her for a minute or two, partly to gather my wits, partly to appreciate her. Gloria had bared more than her body, and I knew intuitively that this was a trust I had to repay. Despite my arousal, I found myself oddly humbled. I certainly hadn't felt that way as a stupid young man with Abigail, nor had my actions with Jessie been guided by that particular sentiment. Both of them, much like Gloria now, had a lot to lose by sharing their vulnerability with me. However powerful she might be, Gloria was defenseless and exposed at this moment. I guess we had that in common, and the thought reassured me.
"Is there anything you like?" I asked. "Is there anything you would deny me?"
Her eyebrows rose. "You surprise me, Jude. So few men ask."
"Well?"
"You will know by my reactions. Do your worst."
I was planning the opposite, having done my worst before, but that was probably not what she meant.
She reached behind my head and pulled me to her. Our lips touched and then her tongue found mine. Her hands roved my body.
I was reminded again that this was an audition, that we were playing roles. No, that wasn't quite right -- I was playing a role; Sister Gloria was subtly directing. She might be hands-off, might be giving me the illusion of free will, but she had set the scene, and there was no doubt in my mind that she was calling the shots.
For some reason, I was uncomfortable with her touch. It was pleasing, but at the same time, it felt too proprietary, too familiar. I hadn't felt the same with Jessie, but I had no time to properly consider the difference. I looked around the room, not immediately finding what I was looking for. Then I saw it -- the sash that she'd worn around her waist. It would do.
I left the bed and retrieved it. Returning, I wound it tightly around her wrists and tied it off to the headboard.
"I'm surprised," she said, smiling.
Me too, I thought.
Now that I didn't have the distraction of her touch, I kissed and nibbled down her body, and she opened herself to me.
With a pang of guilt, I thought of Jessie and how different the moment had been. Back then, there was a giddy sense of exploring the unknown. Perhaps it was the danger. Perhaps it was the journey into the forbidden. What was happening now was certainly dangerous, but the danger wasn't shared. Maybe that was the difference.
Judging by how Gloria was mewling her encouragement, I was doing something right. As my tongue danced over one puckered nipple and then the other, I wondered, perhaps irrationally, whether I was cheating on Jessie and whether she would be jealous. Would she understand that I really had no choice in the matter?
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I murmured as I resumed, kissing and licking down her body until I finally reached the waiting warmth of her sex.
For now, I avoided it. Instead, I ran my fingers lightly up and down the insides of her legs. She squirmed beneath my touch. "You're torturing me," she whispered. By her tone, I wasn't sure whether it was a criticism or not.
I didn't answer.
At length I allowed the backs of my fingers to brush the fluted opening of her sex. She held her breath in anticipation. With the fingers of one hand exposing her clitoris, the other freely roamed her opening, playing with the delicate lips, dipping within her slick warmth. Do your worst, she'd said. I decided that I would test that statement.
The first touch of my tongue on the apex of her sex elicited a gasp that morphed to a low purr. I explored slowly, varying the texture and intensity of my attentions, marveling at the tenderness of her flesh, luxuriating in the taste of her arousal.
By the tone of her moans, I could tell that she was growing impatient with me. I answered her by redoubling my efforts before returning to a more leisurely pace. It was cruel, possibly, but I didn't care. At this moment, I was in charge, and I was loath to relinquish that illusion. As much as it was in my power to do so, I wanted her to suffer. As I licked and cajoled, I allowed a finger to drift across her perineum to the button of her anus. Her breath hitched and she held it, waiting. No protest. I moved my finger across its surface, anointing it with her own juices, and she resumed breathing. Alright, then, I thought. I pressed, breaching the tight ring just a little.
"Oh," she gasped.
She opened herself wider to me and I pressed my finger within her as my tongue continued its work. She was fondling her breasts, pinching and pulling at her nipples. Arching her back, she pressed her ass into the mattress.
When Sister Gloria came, I was both surprised and relieved. I'd been distracted and dissociated from the moment, my thoughts drifting to Jessie and the woefully brief time we'd been together, and back to the woman who now writhed on the bed before me.
"Oh my," she said.
I guess that was a compliment. I'd felt a greater sense of achievement with Jessie, and that response had been programmed.
"Fuck me," moaned the Sister, pulling me from my reveries.
Crawling up her body again, I lingered at her breasts, pausing to suck and nibble her nipples again. She pulled at me insistently, moving her hips impatiently. I tried to ignore it, though at that moment I wanted nothing more than plunge into her.
At length, we were face to face again. She kissed me. "Is that what I taste like?"
The answer was self-evident, so I said nothing. Grasping her wrists and holding them on either side of her head, I allowed the tip of my cock to brush her waiting pussy. I descended slowly, fearing that I wouldn't last long if I surrendered to my own impulse to dive into her. I inched deeper until our pelvises met, and just as slowly, I withdrew. She accused me of torturing her again with my pace, which was fine with me.
My eyes were closed. It was easier that way, easier to imagine someone else beneath me. It wasn't fair to her and did little to mitigate my own growing sense of guilt, but I did it anyway.
She might have come again, for her gasps and a quivering pressure around my cock invaded my senses.
It was then that I neared the limits of my own self-control. I untied the ropes that held her wrists and demanded that she position herself on her hands and knees. I didn't want her to see me come, witness my capitulation. It was almost too much as I grasped her hips and plunged into her, watching myself disappear into this woman's flesh, my shaft glistening with her juices.
She moaned and begged me to hit her.
I paused, mid-thrust. "Hit you?"
"My ass. Smack me."
I didn't understand women, couldn't imagine that this was a thing. And with a Sister, no less.
"Please!"
Fearing that it would be the last thing I would ever do, I raised a hand and swatted her.
"Harder."
I closed my eyes and did as she asked.
"That's nice," she whispered.
"Nice?"
"Fuck me, Jude."
Mother, I wanted her to shut up. And so I resumed. Thrusting. Painting her ass pink with my hands.
I abandoned any notion of self-control. Once I did, it wasn't long before I felt that tingle and the irrepressible building of pressure. I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back sharply.
Remarkably, she cooed happily.
With one last thrust that caused her collapse beneath me onto the bed, I spent myself within her.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded, and a smile played on her lips. "I think, Jude, that you're a keeper."
I'd heard of this moment referred to as afterglow. It wasn't that, unless afterglow meant acute uneasiness. Without the distraction of sex, I wasn't sure of my place here.
"I've seen your back," said Sister Gloria. "What happened?"
"Evidence of a misspent youth."
My answer seemed to satisfy her. I shouldn't have been surprised. "We've learned that nobility cannot evolve from savagery."
"Right," I said. I assumed we referred to those in Mellorton rather than her gender, but I didn't ask for clarification. I then wondered who ranked as the savage -- she who wielded the whip or he who suffered the punishment. I didn't have a chance to ask because at that moment she hoisted herself up and perched her head on her hand. "You look to be a man who is self-sufficient. You have a strength and a self-possession that I find refreshing and, truth be told, a little intoxicating."
I made a scoffing noise. Sister Gloria looked at me too soberly, too knowingly, for there to be much intoxication behind it. If ever I needed a reminder that she was a high-ranking Sister, this was it.
"I could use a man like you," she said as her fingers toyed with my cock. "I feel that you would fit in well. In fact, I know you would." She winked. "We in Mellorton pride ourselves on self-sufficiency and reward those who enrich our society the most."
"Even the men?"
"Even the men. As in your city, we largely eschew the use of machinery. Everything we do, we do with our hands and with our brains. It is slower, to be sure, and more taxing, but there is virtue in hardship."
I doubted the Sisters of Mellorton shared the hardship they preached. I suggested to her that those who spoke most eloquently of hardship were seldom those who suffered it.
"You might think that, and on one level it's true. But those who suffer no hardship have no purpose."
I made a scoffing noise.
"You doubt me?" Her fingernails raked the underside of my cock and I could feel myself responding. "I ask you then to imagine a place where machines do just about everything that is done by people here and in Mellorton. Farming, certainly, but also manufacturing, healthcare, transportation, construction. What of the people?"
"There are such places?"
"Yes. I've seen them. Like you, I was curious about the world outside. Unlike you, I had the means to explore widely. And I learned that out there, the very few do very well, but the rest are poor and idle and would give their lives for meaning and purpose. And so I came back to what I knew."
"Where?"
"It doesn't matter." Sister Gloria placed her hand on my arm. "Listen, Jude, with your experience, you would be perfect to oversee the plantations in Mellorton. You could play a very important role, one that would certainly earn you a place in society, not to mention my appreciation. You're wasted as a freeman here. In Mellorton, you could work as you once did and enjoy certain benefits that have been denied you here."
I think I knew the benefits she was talking about. Work in the fields by day and sow my oats at night. "I'm flattered, but my life is here."
"You could have more responsibility and greater rewards. You could do something meaningful. Above all, you wouldn't have to wear a collar or that hideous cage."
There was that, of course. The collar and cage I could do without, but I couldn't imagine leaving, not when Abigail was imprisoned, not when Jessie was missing.
"Would I be beholden to you?" I asked, if only to buy some time.
"We're all beholden," she said flatly. "I am beholden to my Sorority, as are all Sisters, and those who serve are beholden to their mistresses. But it might not be so bad. Besides, in Mellorton, all men are equal."
"To other men?"
"What else?"
"Alright. I'll think about it, but it really isn't my decision."
"Leave that part of it to me. I'd be honored to count you among my attendants. I think I could grow fond of you."
When I returned to the basement, I took a quick detour to the shower to wash the scent of compromise from my body. I was glad to have lost the cage, but felt ambivalent about everything else. As I entered, I saw Eli, leaning against a sink, studying his reflection in the mirror, frowning. For him to have been up at this hour of the day, he must have been entertaining one of Gloria's retinue. His gaze moved to me. I half expected some kind of dig, some sneering comment about having bedded the leader of the delegation, but there was nothing. We looked at each other through the mirror for a moment longer. Finally, he straightened, set his shoulders, and left.
Not a word had been spoken.
When I found my bed, the rising sun was already brightening the room. I was exhausted, but sleep eluded me. In the absence of any news from Lexie and Jessie, I found myself thinking that Gloria's proposal might not be so bad, at least not compared with my lot under Aisha. Mellorton... a town I didn't know existed until yesterday. And what would life be like? If I could believe Sister Gloria and what she implied, every now and again, we'd get together and play, and I would pretend for an hour or two that I was more of a man than I knew myself to be. But it would only be an illusion. And was that important? What did it matter?
My thoughts then drifted to Jessie, and without quite wanting to, I found myself comparing the two illusions. I questioned my attraction to her, setting aside her design and that I was merely being predictable in my response to it. What was it, really, that appealed to me? That I thought of myself as her better? I was human and she wasn't? Wasn't that a hierarchy? Did I not own her as any Sister might own me?
Maybe superiority was the ultimate aphrodisiac.
I had to conclude that while I could live with one, it was ultimately the other I wanted.
"I hear you'll be leaving us," said Leonard as he spotted me on the bench press.
It was a sunny day and I squinted up at him. "It seems that way," I grunted.
"Congratulations, then. It appears that you made an impression."
I said nothing.
"For services rendered and a horse, you have a new mistress."
I hesitated at the top of my lift and racked the bar. "A horse?"
"It appears that your skills in the bedroom were far greater than anyone gave you credit for. Who would have thought that you had it in you to fuck your way to a better situation? Certainly not I, so kudos to you. Of course, on hearing how smitten Sister Gloria was with you, Sister Aisha drove hard bargain."
Leonard winked. "My sources tell me that Sister Aisha was loathe to let you go, or at least gave that impression. Sister Gloria, however, would not be denied. In the end, it was the horse that did it. A handsome gelding, as it turns out. Like her mother, it seems, Sister Aisha loves a good ride."
Leonard's laughter echoed in the courtyard as I reached for the bar again.
Chapter 16
The irony wasn't lost on me. I was to be the fuckpuppet for a horny Sister while my heart belonged to a fembot. Perhaps this was the leering face of justice, the fickle finger of fate.
The other freemen, particularly Eli, seemed a little jealous when Sister Aisha congratulated me. "I had my doubts about you," she said within earshot of the other men of her entourage, "but you seem to have performed impressively."
What I'd done was fuck myself into someone's bed. Some accomplishment. I might have lost the cage and the colla
r, but I would be no more free than I was before. I'd been deluding myself to think otherwise.
My lack of response was taken as modesty by the men. For Sister Aisha, a tight smile said it all. She'd gained a horse.
I told Lexie what had happened when she surprised me by slipping into my cell late that night. "She wants me to be one of her attendants. I assume that's what they call their freemen."
"I heard. Sister Gloria is very highly ranked."
There was something she wasn't telling me.
"She has a reputation."
"What kind of reputation?"
"She has a considerable appetite."
"So I'd be one of many."
"I would assume so. That said, she is known to be fair and kind. You could do worse." Lexie caught and held my gaze. "Do you want to go with her?"
I shook my head. "She might be better than Aisha, but I'd be trading one keeper for another. Still, I don't see the alternative."
"There's freedom."
I laughed, the bark of it sounding loud in my small cell. More quietly, lest I wake the others, I said, "I don't know what that would look like."
"I think you can imagine it. Try."
Could I? I sat silently for a minute. Lexie was right -- I could. Maybe not in detail, maybe not even the general shape of it, but I could certainly imagine the feeling of freedom. The lightness of spirit. The absence of care. I felt those things when I was away from Lowville and the Sorority. Answerable to no one. Never having to worry whether my words or deeds would insult an authority I had no respect for. The feeling, I realized, was best encapsulated by my day with Jessie, in those brief hours before she shut down and we were happy.
I took a deep breath. "You're right. I can imagine it."
Lexie smiled. "Good. Jessie would have been disappointed if you hadn't been able to."
"Jessie?"
"She's waiting for you, Jude. We've been working on a plan."
"You and Jessie?"
Lexie nodded. "And Rabbit. All of us, Jude. Rabbit and I wanted to get away and would have done so already if Jessie hadn't insisted on coming and taking you with us. She cares about you."