Master

by Catherine Taylor

  Unfortunately, he made it to the last landing and put her down beside a door. Lena watched his chest rise and fall, and noticed the slight relief on his face. Unlocking the door, he stood aside to allow her to enter. She looked into the dark room and hesitated.

  “Inside,” he told her firmly.

  Nervously, she entered. Jahn clicked a switch and brought light to her surroundings. The room was small with a couch on one side against a faded wallpapered wall. In front of it was a low table on which a small black television sat. It was void of other furniture but around the walls were tall piles of books, the only gap being a door.

  The other side of the room was an open tidy kitchen, with three rows of yellowing tiles behind the sink and bench space. There was an oven with a long cylinder of gas in the corner. A refrigerator stood next to a curtained window and there was one tiny table and chair against the wall.

  Jahn opened the door between the books and she could see the iron frame of a double bed. He went in and soft lamplight lit the room. Lena moved back as he came out.

  “This is where you will sleep.” He stood at the door. “There is a bathroom down the hall.”

  She was reminded at how full her bladder was, even though she had drank very little all day.

  “I need to go.”

  Jahn nodded and went to the front door, waiting for her. Lena reluctantly followed him as he led her out to the hallway and past another door.

  “This apartment is empty and the bathroom does not get shared. No one will walk in on you.”

  At the end of the hallway a curtain hung across a gap where a door should have been. Jahn pulled it back to reveal the bathroom. Inside she could see an old bath with rust stains. In a corner was an open cubicle with a drain in the concrete floor and a shower nozzle in a wall of broken tiles. The sink and toilet were also badly discoloured.

  “Where’s the light?” she asked

  “There isn’t one, but enough comes through the curtain” He held it open for her. “I’ll wait out here.”

  She nervously entered the bathroom, startling as a cockroach ran to a dark corner. The curtain was shut, and she could only just see the toilet. Urgent necessity gave her the motivation to use it.

  Taking off her coat, she put it on the floor and lay Greta’s body in it. An unpleasant, powerful odour filled her nose. Her body stank, and her dress and underwear were soaked with sweat. Lena grinned, despite her own revulsion. With any luck it would repel any unwanted attention.

  While sitting on the toilet, she watched for the slightest movement outside, trying to relax enough to ease her stinging bladder. When the urine eventually expelled, the pain came with it, making the last drops feel like acid. Lena whimpered quietly, not moving for a long time until the burn had eased. Sweat broke out on her forehead, running down to join her tears.

  Jahn was leaning against the wall when she came out, her coat back on and buttoned up. He frowned slightly as he looked at her. Approaching, he brought his hand up. Lena flinched and backed away but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back, putting the back of his hand to her forehead.

  “How long have you felt sick?”

  “I have a cold,” Lena mumbled. “It’s nothing.”

  When they had returned to the apartment she watched him take a shoebox down from a kitchen cupboard, rummage through it, and bring out some foiled tablets. He filled a cup with water and brought two tablets to her.

  “Take these. They will help with the temperature.”

  Lena stared down at them. “I can’t swallow tablets.”

  “I have other ones, that don’t need swallowing. They go up your arse, and work much faster.”

  Her mouth dropped open in horror. “That’s disgusting. Don’t say things like that.”

  He frowned at her reaction. “I was trying to be helpful.”

  “Well you’re not,” Lena sobbed. “I’ll take these. I just need more than one cup of water.”

  Snatching them out of his hand and taking the cup, she hurried over to the sink and stood facing it, staring down at the tablets. Undoubtedly, they were something to make her pass out, so he could have his way with her more easily. She wasn’t going to fall for that.

  Keeping her back between him and the sink, she let the tablets fall down the sinkhole, before miming an action of taking them for his benefit. She refilled her cup and drank it down before turning back to him.

  “Bedtime.” He pointed towards the bedroom. “And take that coat off before you get into bed.”

  Like hell I will, she thought.

  Lena shuffled past him to the bedroom and once inside, shut the door, disappointed to find no lock. There was just a bed, and a table and lamp beside it. Curtains were drawn across the window, and she pulled one aside. It was too dark to see much, except that she was up high. There looked to be a large area of vacant land and another dark building on the other side.

  Wearily, she approached the bed and pulled back the covers. The sheets were crisp and clean and the mattress soft as she lay down. It was comfortable, but she was determined to stay alert and keep her coat in place. She opened it enough to retrieve Greta’s body and put her up against her face. From the pocket she pulled out her head and put it on the pillow.

  She could still smell herself and wondered how her captor would react when he came for her. With any luck, her lack of hygiene would be an effective deterrent, making him angry enough to want rid of her, and maybe even take her home. It was a feasible plan, and despite how hot she felt, she covered herself with a blanket.

  As her exhausted body relaxed, her thoughts were loud and jumbled, merging with distorted visions as sleep tried to claim her. The coat and blankets were like a sauna, but they were the only things protecting her, unlike Andrei who had let her down badly and left her at the mercy of this monster. Staring at the lamp, her eyes were stinging and slowly she allowed them to close.

  Pain and nausea became as surreal as the faces in her mind. It seemed as if everyone in her life was vying to be seen. The men were angry and intimidating. Her father, Andrei and Jahn were there, and even Gregor, who frightened her the most with his shiny, bald head.

  The gentle smile of her mother came to her, bringing a moment of calm and peace. It was so vivid that she could almost reach out and feel the softness of her skin. Her face changed and became lifeless and pale, and that horrible place was all about her.

  Wind was blowing rain under the umbrella, pattering coldly against her. All the faces were crying, but not as loudly as her father. She wanted him to shut up, and be like her grandfather, who was standing sombrely looking down at the wooden box.

  Her mother was in it and they were putting her into the ground. Lena was screaming at them not to, but no one was listening. Even the women were ignoring her. Vera was there with her sister Helga, and she implored them on her knees.

  “You’ve taken her from me. I want her back. Give her back to me. She’s not dead.”

  Vera just laughed and Lena wanted to stop her, but her body had become heavy. It felt as if the air had been sucked from her lungs, and a foul stench was burning inside her nose and throat.

  Lena was suddenly lifted and tossed about, gasping for breath. Her eyes opened and she saw that Jahn had hold of her. She could feel his fingers on her face and a vicious, stinging constriction in her throat. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might kill her.

  Her vision began to fade and a silent blackness poured into her head, cascading over all the agonizing sensations, until there was no pain. It seemed that death was just a peaceful dark silence, and not nearly as awful as she had imagined.

  * * * *

  Lena could feel the hands of her mother gently washing her body. The soft massage was soothing, but she blushed at her nakedness.

  “Mama, don’t. I’m grown up now. I can wash myself.”

  There was no answer, just the softness of a cloth and warm water over her skin. The fresh scent of soap and antiseptic revived her enough to know that she
wasn’t dreaming.

  Opening her eyes, she was confused by how muscled her mother’s arm was until she suddenly knew what she was looking at. Lena writhed about, struggling to sit up in the bath, only to find herself held firmly in place.

  Jahn was looming over her. “Stay still.”

  Panic stricken, she tried to escape again, only to discover how little strength she had. Sinking down again, she glared at him.

  “What are you doing to me?”

  “Bringing your temperature down and cleaning you up.”

  His arm was around her, holding her up and she cupped a handful of water and threw it into his face, hoping he would release her. He didn’t, and instead angrily shook the water away and glared at her.

  “You do that again and I’ll tan your bare arse.” His voice was low and furious. “If you had taken those pills we might not be here now. You were burning up and choking on your own vomit. If I hadn’t heard you, you would be dead now.”

  Lena quailed under his anger and began to cry.

  “And you can stop that fucking bawling. I’ve had a gutful of that too. This is your own doing, and now you’ll have to put up with the consequences.”

  She stopped crying and looked up at him miserably. “Don’t hurt me.”

  The anger eased. “I’m not going to hurt you, though I’m not opposed to giving you a smacked arse if you keep playing up. Now stand up so I can wash the rest of you.”

  Horror filled her face and she shook her head fiercely. “I can do it myself. I can.”

  The furious face was back and Lena groaned, trying to keep the tears away. “I’m embarrassed.”

  “You should be. The smell off your body was fucking awful. You have sores all over your body and lice in your hair and when was the last time you put on clean panties?”

  The harsh criticism made her angry. “What the fuck does it have to do with you? I didn’t choose to be here. You picked me, remember, and if you now realize how stupid you were, then tough fucking luck.”

  She tried to stand up, but fell back from weakness. “I can’t. Do what you want to me. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

  “I only want to wash you,” he said quietly. “Some of those sores are getting infected and you’ll feel a lot better when you’re cleaned up. Let me help you stand.”

  Lena shrugged in defeat. “Yeah, sure.”

  His arm went around her. “Hold on to me.”

  Glancing at him, she noticed for the first time that he was stripped down to a dark blue singlet, and that she would actually have to touch his skin. Admittedly, his body was impressive, but she hated having to cling to him. Her face was brought against his chest and she found the scent of his body to be strangely pleasant. He was warm too, and again she admired his strength as he held her. He handled her as easily as bathing a child.

  He brought his foot up onto the edge of the bath. “Lean over my leg and I’ll get this done quickly.”

  Suddenly Lena didn’t feel so resigned to her fate. “What are you going to do?”

  He sighed. “I’m going to wash your back, your backside and between your legs, and that is all I am going to do.”

  She shook her head, but before she could protest he had put her into position, bending her over his thigh and holding her around her waist.

  “No, don’t” Lena screamed.

  With no reply, Jahn proceeded to wash her thoroughly, massaging the cloth gently over her. When he attempted to gain access to more intimate places, she pushed her thighs firmly together with the little strength she could muster.

  “Open your legs.”

  “No, don’t fucking touch me.”

  His response was to deposit the cloth on her back while he applied several hard slaps with his palm to her wet buttocks. Lena screamed as the burning pain registered.

  “Now,” he said sternly. “Open your legs, or the next spanking you get will be twice as hard.”

  Sobbing, Lena relaxed her thighs and allowed him to push her legs apart. She cried louder as she felt the cloth gently washing every crease and fold. Finally his tight hold on her relaxed and he allowed her to straighten up. She hated it that she still had to hold on to him to keep upright.

  “Let’s get you dried,” he said softly.

  “You hurt me,” she sniffled.

  “Your arse is a little pink,” he said sternly. “You’re lucky it wasn’t blistering red. Remember that when I’m rubbing some zinc cream into you, after I’ve dried you.”

  “I don’t like you,” Lena pouted.

  “You don’t have to,” he replied coldly. “You just have to do what you’re told.”

  His arm scooped her legs up and she clutched on to him as he put her down on the floor. On shaky legs, she had to lean against him as he dried her, bitterly resigning herself to being touched in intimate areas. Wrapping the towel around her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the apartment.

  Setting her down on the couch, he put a blanket over her.

  “Just stay there while I clean up that fucking mess in the bedroom.” He pulled her chin around so that she had to look at him. “There was some blood in your panties. Are you due your period?”

  Lena pulled away from him, shaking her head furiously, her face twisted in revulsion, but he grabbed a handful of hair at the base of her head and made her look at him again.

  “Does it burn when you piss?”

  She sobbed, but nodded her head.

  “Alright.” He released her. “I have something for that.”

  Dropping her trembling body down to the couch, she curled up, exhausted, sick and miserable, watching as he went to the kitchen and angrily pulled boxes from one of the cupboards.

  Whatever he had to give her, she would take, and with any luck it would kill her, and this would be the last terrible night she would ever have to deal with. It was obvious that life was never going to get better.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The aroma drifting into the bedroom made Lena’s stomach growl hungrily, and answered her curiosity of what he was doing. For an hour she had listened to the activity in the other room, muffled under the lilting, orchestral music of Dvořák.

  Although very weak, she felt surprisingly better than she had in a long time. He had forced her to swallow pills in front of him, and it was annoying to admit that they might have achieved something. She had slept many hours, and woken well into the afternoon without pain or irritation. Her skin felt fresh and clean and her hair was soft, though it lingered with the smell of some concoction he had massaged into it. Whatever it was, the itching was gone.

  Leaning back on her pillows, she ran her fingers over the material of her nightie and breathed in the smell of newness. It had been many years since she had worn a brand new piece of clothing, and especially something so pretty.

  The thick cotton had little pink roses on it and frilly lace on the cuffs and hem. Unlike her own clothes, which were far too small, the nightie fitted her perfectly and covered the roundness of her stomach, reaching all the way to her feet.

  Tugging it upwards, she lifted her buttocks to pull it out beneath her and allow her to feel her new underwear. There were little flowers on them and they sat snugly around her waist. As wonderful as they felt, it disturbed her that he had such apparel on hand, and worse that they seemed to have been purchased in her exact size.

  Sliding her fingers absently toward her vagina, it reminded her of where his hands had been and she involuntarily shivered.

  It was an awful memory of being subjected to the most humiliating treatment. Sitting on this very bed, he had bent her face down and naked under his arm, with her thighs held widely apart, straddled on either side of his. Holding her firmly, his fingers had massaged zinc cream into the creases between her vagina and thighs and the inner sides of her buttocks, while a thermometer sat snugly in her bottom.

  Now, with its healing affects, it was harder to summon the same revulsion, and it hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. To some degree
, it had been slightly arousing, with the remaining tingles of her spanked bottom and her vulnerable position over his knee. He had crossed territory that had only ever eventuated in her thoughts.

  Lena growled at herself. It was disgusting that something like that should arouse her. Even if he hadn’t done anything overtly sexual to her, the man was still obviously a pervert. It was bad enough that she had to deal with her own preoccupation with sex. Girls were not supposed to have these sickening thoughts. It was dirty and immoral, and only loose women thought like that.

  It was ludicrous that she needed to remember the exact nature of this situation. She was his prisoner, his trophy, claimed as if she was nothing, and given no say over what happened to her body. Just because he hadn’t forced himself upon her, it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t happen. This was a brutish animal that had killed a man. His concern for her health was most likely inclined to get her well enough to be used for his purposes.

  As her contempt for him was renewed, the door opened and Jahn entered, carrying a tray. He set it down on the bedside table and produced a large bib from under his arm.

  “I’m not wearing that.”

  His brow narrowed. “Yes you are. I have one nightie for you at the moment and you are going to keep it clean.”

  Lena retorted angrily. “I’m nineteen and I’m not a child. You think I’m just a stupid, fat idiot.”

  Bending down, Jahn brought his frown within inches of her face. “I have made no commentary on your size or your mental capacity. What I think is that this bib is thick, with a rubber backing which will stop hot, messy borscht from spilling onto your tits.”

  Her face reddened deeply. “Why do you have to talk so rude?”

  Jahn sighed. “I’m sorry. What would you have me call them?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t refer to any of my body parts, even if you have groped them all. You’re a pervert.”

  His anger exploded. “And you’re a spoilt, little bitch. I spent half the fucking night cleaning you and this bedroom up, because you’re too lazy to wash yourself and you got yourself a urinary tract infection, which itself could have killed you, if the vomit you choked on didn’t, or even the temperature you had. You’re fucking lucky to be alive. When I got that coat off of you, your body was drenched; you’d pissed yourself and smelt worse than a fucking sewer. I threw you in the bath to get the temperature down and then I cleaned you up, and cleaned this bedroom up. At that fucking time of the night, when I’m fucking exhausted myself, the last thing I had on my mind was groping your body.”