by Susan Sass
Faith stood rock still and made no movement. Aya swung the little whip viciously and she could see a red welt stand up across the girl’s ass. Faith flinched and shifted on her feet but did not move. Over and over Aya struck the girl but she refused to move. Soon the ass in front of her was crisscrossed with welts and the girl was involuntarily wriggling and flinching. Almost without realizing it Faith began to take tiny steps, not really walking but shifting and moving trying to minimize the pain. When Faith realized she had begun to walk she forced herself to stop and then collapsed onto the ground curling up in a silent sodden ball of tears.
Aya had expected that the girl might try to go to the ground and nodded to the guard, “Carry her. She will need to learn on the walker”. The walker was a machine designed to walk race horses to cool them down. At one point JD had been interested in horses had invested in a stable and some equipment but his interests returned to the slaves. Aya had always thought that her Master’s riding skills were more suited to the two legged mares. Aya had hated the horses and was glad to see them go but she very much liked the ropes, leather straps and other equestrian equipment. Aya still used the walker. It was an efficient punishment device. After a day or two of running in circles, the laziest slave seemed much happier with assigned duties than the endless trotting around and around. The arms of the walker would prevent Faith from falling to the ground.
The guard put Faith down on her feet and she promptly dropped to the ground, retreating into passively laying on the ground to avoid any chance of compliance. The big guard grabbed her wrists and lifted her up off the ground, painfully forcing her arms up, wrenching her shoulders. For the first time Faith screamed and the electrodes of the collar lit up her brain. Her whole body convulsed with pain and she writhed in agony. There was the acrid smell of piss and Aya s coldly as she noted the girl had lost control of her bladder. Aya watched as Faith slowly gained control of her body and forced her legs up under her, taking some of the weight off her wrists and shoulders.
Aya leaned down and crooned into the girl’s ear. “Keep fighting, slave. It amuses me. It has been so long since I have had so much enjoyment. Now it is time to walk.” Aya once again brought the whip down on the red welted ass of the girl. Faith flinched and took a tiny mincing step. Aya brought the whip down again and again Faith shuffled forward another short step. Soon Faith was slowly painfully shuffling around in a circle, bent sharply at the waist. As Faith began to walk forward, Aya followed tapping lightly with the whip with each step. Aya began to talk, “Slave, you will find your little rebellion will do little more than amuse me. You will comply either willingly or by force but you will not win. I love the battle though.” Aya adjusted the speed of the rotating arms up a notch and brought the whip down sharply on the girl’s scored and burning flesh. “A little faster now, I think.” Aya nodded in satisfaction as the slow shuffle became a frantic mincing trot.
After an hour of circles Aya pulled the girl to a stop. “If you are ready to obey, we will walk back to the box and you will be allowed to drink and rest. If you continue to resist we will remain here walking in circles until you are ready to comply. One way or another, the only way to get back to the box is on your two feet with me holding the reins. Nod if you are willing to comply.”
Aya felt that familiar rush of power when the girl nodded. Aya unfastened the girl’s wrists from the arm of the walker and tapped her sharply on the ass as she pulled on the reins, turning her out of the abandoned stable area and deliberately driving the girl toward the slave compound. After making a few turns around the compound Aya drove the girl to the box and removed the bridle. Aya freed the girl’s arms but left the chain that forced her to keep her head low. Aya commented to the girl, “Tomorrow we will do this again.” She filled the water dish with a small amount of water, barely enough to quench the girl’s thirst. Not enough to wash with. She signaled the guard to cover the door again.
Aya looked at the closed cell door and nodded to herself in satisfaction. She had seen the dull surrender in the girl’s eyes but Aya was not fooled. This one was far from broken. In fact, Aya was sure that the girl’s defeat would infuriate her and once she recovered her strength she would be more resolved next time. Yet the battle had been sweet, the rush of power when the girl had agreed to walk with Aya holding the reins still echoed through her, making her heart race. Aya could not help the wide smile on her face when she thought about tomorrow. She could hardly wait.
Chapter 17
The boredom and isolation hadn’t been so bad. She’d spent the day dozing and fantasizing about her revenge on the Bitch the controlled her life. But, later, after Aya decided to give her full intention, Faith, the unbroken one, cringed.
Faith gulped down the water the moment Aya left her alone. miserably, she crawled to the space where her sleeping mat once lay. She curled into a tight ball, ignoring the growling of her empty stomach. If they had brought her food, she doubt if she could have eaten it. Even alone in her dark cage, Faith felt her face flame hot with shame. As exhausted as she was, it was a long time before sleep would mercifully transport her beyond the bars of her cell.
The events of the day refused to stop flicking through her Mind, forcing her to relive every horrible second scene by humiliating scene. When she did doze off, her exhausted nerves jumped, startling her awake which began the parade of horrifying images all over again.
At least, Faith thought, that guard had a lasting reminder of her for a few days. It earned her a slap to the face which sent her to the ground and left her dizzy and disoriented enough that the big man could finish trussing her up easily. She hoped the dirt under her nails that she’d sunk deep into his forearm was germy enough to cause an infection. She also hoped his kneecap ached as much as her bruised heel bone. She s grimly to herself. At least her hard back kick as he was lifting her off the ground produced a deep grunt. She definitely made damn sure he knew exactly what she thought of him and this place while the collar was off.
Then that woman stepped into the room. Faith was so determined to fight, so focused on her anger and laying as much hurt on the man who was trussing her up, she’d forgotten completely that she was as naked as the day she was born. When Aya entered the cell and her eyes fell on Faith, she was instantly Mindful of her nudity. Exposed and venerable and shamed and she hated her with every fiber of her being because of it.
The woman seemed to read her Mind, knowing what she was thinking before the thought fully formed in her head. Her touch, no matter how light was repulsive. The way she traced her finger around her nipple and down her belly communicated that eventually, she would be used that way too. She was certain that Aya would give her to the guard at any moment to use. But she was sorely mistaken. Aya had other ideas.
When the bridle was forced on her, Faith fought with everything in her being. Yet, somehow the bit ended up exactly where it belonged. The reins were in the Bitch’s hands. No way. She could lash her until Doom’s Day; Faith was not moving or responding. When the lashing became more demanding, Faith decided to fold. In a very perverted way, it was really upping the ante. She was ready to be beaten harder and had prepared herself for that. Faith was completely shocked that she was actually carried by the huge guard. She did note with a modicum of satisfaction that the great big man had a bloody forearm. At least she’d gotten those licks in.
The exercise wheel was cruel. No matter how she fought or struggled, it drug her on and on in an endless circle. Already worn out, Faith eventually trudged along willingly. She spent the time imagining revenge on the demon woman that wielded the whip. Before she was allowed to stop, she began an unconscious cadence to the tune from the “Producers”. The “Cell Block Tango” was twisted into visions of seeing Aya dead and the refrain changed to “She had it coming, she only had herself to blame….”
Thirsty, hungry and tired, Faith had nodded numbly when Aya asked her if she was ready to comply. One battle lost, the next would be hers.
Faith expected t
o be led directly to her cage. Instead, Aya evidently couldn’t resist showing off her achievements. She took her on a tour around the slave compound. Fucking Cunt.
Faith had trotted ahead of the lash, body bowed, humiliated and naked, the object of curiosity for all who saw the strange sight. She honestly wished she could just crawl into a corner and die.
Many of the slaves pointed and stared. Some laughed, almost nostalgically, as if they remembered when they were conditioned in a very similar way. Some of the male slaves made rude comments and called to Aya, asking to assist in the “new slave’s” training. A few older, more mature slaves nodded grimly, knowingly.
“But they’re wrong!” Faith promised herself. “I will never be like you!”
As they rounded near the showers, Faith got a great view of two female slaves soaping each other down and laughing and playing under the water spouts as if there was no one else in the world. Others seemed to relax in the sun or play a game of soccer or volley ball.
All happy and contented. All well groomed and in good condition. All very willing to live as unpaid automatons for the twisted Master. Not Faith. She saw a bunch of compliant, happy postulants with the Man as the deity and Aya in the papal seat. Not Faith, never Faith. Faith was an unwilling victim. Forced to trot along bowed and bridled, she vowed to never allow herself to become a convert.
The horrors of failing to embrace the self proclaimed master or his ultimate postulant were welcome. Faith was strong. Faith could take it. Faith would find a way to fight.
That was until the board was set. That was until she’d greedily drunk every drop of water. That was until the humiliation set in. The only thing that was certain was she had been stripped of pride. She had been willing led through the heart of the population. Not again. She would never be a fucking robot worshipping the asshole as a god. She would rather die than capitulate.
She balled up miserably, trying without success to ignore the stench of sweat, dirt and old urine. She tried to sleep. She tried to forget. She failed miserably. As early morning started to dimly lighten her now isolated cell, the board was moved. Faith stiffened and waited. The fuck would she get up and happily accept the bit and lash. She would stay in this ball forever and to hell with what happened.
Chapter 18
Aya carefully schooled her face back into its normal expression of neutral alertness and turned to walk back to the compound. She needed to check on Josh’s progress with his hole and then she was in the mood to really push Layla to the limit and past.
Josh was completely out of sight. The pile of dirt beside the hole was getting higher. Aya leaned over and nodded in satisfaction. The rate the hole was deepening was getting slower now that he had to fill the bucket but he was working steadily. When her shadow fell over him, Josh paused and shaded his eyes, looking up. When he recognized her he quickly dropped to his knees, “Mistress Aya, this slave respectfully greets you and awaits your command.”
“You are doing a wonderful job, Josh. I am very pleased. At this rate you will be done tomorrow. After you fill that bucket, carry it out and then take a break. I will have someone bring you your evening meal. Then sleep. I will be waking you very early to get back digging. I want the hole done by tomorrow afternoon.”
The intense smell of hot peppers filled the air as Aya went into the kitchen via the back door. She nodded coolly at the cook and he nodded back, but both of them could see the warmth in the other’s eyes. He had worked on the island for Aya’s whole life. He was a Thai that JD had given shelter when he had gotten in over his head with gambling debts to the local Tong. Jimmy had been just happy to find a place where they could not find him and even when he had earned enough to return to his homeland and pay off his debts he had begged to stay on
Jimmy was actually a gentle man and cared a lot about the people around him. He seemed to just look the other way when JD, Aya or the overseers engaged in their sadistic games. When JD had started to make plans to send Adriana away, Jimmy had approached him and asked if he could marry the young girl. He had been a good husband to Adriana and they had a half a dozen children. Living in a quiet little house on the far side of the island, their little cottage was the one place on the island where Aya actually let down her guard and relaxed. At Jimmy and Adriana’s house Aya could just become Auntie Aya. Both of them had a genuine, respectful kind of affection for the other, though Jimmy would not even consider speaking to Aya with anything less than perfect respect in front of any of the slaves.
“Have someone take a big meal out to Josh, and make sure he has a generous portion of fruit juice, and give him an extra dose of vitamins.” Aya looked over Jimmy’s shoulder as he added another generous handful of Chinese hot peppers to a big pot of boiling oil. The odor rose up, stung her nostrils, and made her eyes fill with tears. She s as a thought crossed her Mind, “Put a little of that hot pepper oil in a dish for me.”
Jimmy got out a small bowl and put a couple of table spoons of the red oil into it. He cautioned her, “Be careful with this, if you get it in your eyes you will be crying for a week.”
Aya chuckled, “It is not for me.”
Jimmy paused and then he looked at her sharply. Aya could see the unspoken words. She knew that Jimmy did not understand her lust for that rush of power, but she also knew he would never speak to her about it. He turned back to the sauce he was making, “Just be careful.”
Chapter 19
Lazily Aya followed the girl inside. The little cabin was simple and clean. There was little furniture in the front room, just a large desk and comfortable office chair. A computer monitor was on the desk with a cycling series of images from the security cameras around the island. Aya stood looking idly at the changing images. The box the new slave was in, the Plaza, the compound, the interior of the slave quarters... one after another the images showed everything and everyone were where they were supposed to be.
Layla came from the bathroom and knelt by the doorway, “Mistress Aya, your bath is prepared.” Then she fell silent. Aya stood looking at the monitor for a couple of more minutes and the then stretched and sighed and walked without speaking into the bathroom.
Her voice was cool and neutral, “Undress me and bathe me. A pleasing slave must be able to serve her Masters in more than just sexual pleasure.”
Layla carefully slipped off the sandals and unbuttoned the white cotton jumpsuit that was Aya’s habitual uniform around the island. Sliding it slowly off Aya’s shoulders, down her arms and past her hips, inch by inch she exposed the long lean golden form of her Mistress. She put the soiled garment in a basket in the closet, next to another half dozen identical garments. Aya stood still, her head tilted watching the quiet graceful movements of the girl. It was obvious that Layla was putting every ounce of her training into use, her eyes averted and her movements smooth and graceful.
After the putting away the jumpsuit, Layla paused and then not sensing a command from her Mistress she knelt gracefully next to the large claw footed tub, picking up the soap and scrub brush that she knew Aya preferred and held it up on the open palm of her hand, supporting her right elbow with her left hand in a pose of combined passive waiting and supplication that Aya found very pleasing.
Careful to keep her face coolly disdainful, Aya casually put her foot against the side of the kneeling girl and gave her a sharp shove, knocking her down and limp to the floor. The items in her hand fell to the floor and Layla let her body lay boneless and unresisting, but her face was frightened and confused, unsure what she had done to deserve this. Aya stood over her and slowly dragged the sole of her foot over the girls lips, a shudder of pleasure ran through her when she felt the girl’s tongue hesitantly touch and lick the dirty bottom of her foot. Aya’s feet were almost black with dirt from wearing sandals throughout the day.
Aya hissed, “Yes, clean them with your tongue. I do not want this dirt in my bath.” Aya knew that the subtle message that Layla’s mouth was the more appropriate receptacle was left unsaid but op
enly acknowledged between the two of them.
Still prostrate on the floor, Layla began to lick away the day’s accumulated dirt and sweat, her tongue working at the ground in grime. Aya pushed her toes into the girls mouth, forcing then deep between her jaws, forcing the girl to choke and gag as she struggled to lick and suck. When Layla’s hand started to reach towards Aya’s ankle, either to steady the foot wrenching her jaws apart or to push it away, Aya hissed again, “Get your fucking hands off me.” Layla snatched her hand away before it ever touched Aya’s skin. Aya jerked her foot out of Layla’s mouth and reached down and grabbed the girls hair and lifted her to her knees and then sharply slapped her face with each disdainful sentence. “Barely acceptable, hardly clean enough, and I sense your hesitance. Is the shit on my feet not good enough for you? A slave should crave to lick the shit from her Mistress’s feet. I think you do not find pleasure in serving me.”