9
After thirteen days, Blackmoor sat in his office and looked over the reports that his trainers sent him.
The jackal...he had been there three days and was exhibiting enough
submission to be released into the work
area. Pathetic. Blackmoor was ashamed to be of the kind.
The feline woman had been difficult to break in. She still was
far from broken, but that would be
resolved in time. The initial training was not to break the subject
completely, although sometimes it did. He
smiled in anticipation. This one was beautiful; she would learn
to be obedient. She didn't have to love him
or whoever would be her eventual master. Just submit to him.
The Thunderian man...acceptable. His time had gone more or less
in the usual fashion. He was doing
what he had to to avoid being hurt, but would take the first opportunity
to escape. Blackmoor hoped that he did. No one escaped his
compound, and he would soon learn what happened to those who tried.
Ahhh, the cat-cub. Blackmoor had wondered at first why he was
still in training, but had read the
reports from Monkrion. The little bastard had been hell to break
in, and he only a child! Yes, Blackmoor saw
this one as a personal challenge. Hmm. So, he had a particular
aversion to being dunked. He would have to
take advantage of this his taskmasters always included this in
their reports, what the subject seemed to hate the
most. Blackmoor used it against them. Little Orion had
not cared to be restrained in the discipline box, either.
Good, good, good.
On the morning of the fourteenth day, the kid was deemed ready to be
set to work. He would be
watched like a hawk, and punished in these first few weeks, even months,
for every little thing. A slave's
training was never over. They were worked on their whole lives.
A broken will was more likely to be trusted,
and submissive.
Orion was brought out of the hateful building, squinting even in the
dim light that served as Plundaar's
day. The manacles and leg irons had been put back on, and he
still bore the collar with the identification
number on it. He hated the restraints, he hated them with a passion.
But the only thing the cub did when he
limped inside the building where Blackmoor sat was look miserably at
the ground. He still hurt, a lot.
As they came in, Blackmoor smiled unpleasantly and stood up. Not
very tall but unusually muscular for
a jackal Mutant, Blackmoor loomed over the terrorized Thunderian cub.
"So. Let's see how well you've
learned your lessons." The jackal looked the child over, noted
the bruises and the lacerations here and there,
and mostly noted he'd been shown the whip So the little brat
was strong enough Good. It had probably been
the worst nightmare the kid had ever endured.
Orion only bit his lip and stared at the ground. He was too afraid to look up.
Blackmoor looked at the silently crying child and nodded in satisfaction.
It was a vast change over the
spirited little hellion that had bitten him on the hand. "Kneel,
slave." He watched.
Orion hesitated, not wanting to kneel in front of this Mutant that he
hated...he hated him more than
anything. He didn't want to kneel in front of him, and do what
he commanded. But he risked a glance at
Monkrion, who stood behind him like an overzealous prison guard.
He had brought the whip from the training
building with him, and brought it into sight.
The cub made a frightened outcry and hastily knelt on the ground, wincing,
expecting to be struck. But
he was not, this time. He did catch Monkrion's warning look though:
next time he would not be so kind.
Blackmoor nodded in approval. "Good work, Monkrion." He
stepped up so that he stood less than a
foot from the cub, and Orion did not move. Although he shook
in fear, he clenched his fists and forced himself to stay where he was
for fear of punishment. "Look at me." Orion did. "Good.
Who am I?"
When the boy hesitated, Monkrion let the whip crack across his already slashed back. The child screamed.
"Who am I, Orion?" Blackmoor repeated, his tone holding no mercy, no
compassion; only malevolence.
This time the child answered tearfully. "M-my m-m-master..."
"That's right, wretch. And what are you?"
The child bit his lip again. It was something he did when he was
scared or unsure, and had done it so
much in the past days he had bloodied it. "A-a Th-thunderian..."
Monkrion kicked the boy in the back. That was not what he had
been taught. "You are asking for it,
boy," he warned.
Blackmoor growled and took the whip from Monkrion, tired of playing
games. He had been told how
harsh he could be with the boy without endangering his life, and what
he was about to do would not do it. He
would make this child fear him, or the boy would die, it was that simple.
The jackal lashed at the boy with the
whip, hitting him in the side twice before the terrified cub recoiled
and curled up in his side with his manacled
hands over his head. He started screaming when Blackmoor did
not stop but kept hitting him.
The jackal did not stop until he'd struck a good fifteen times, the
same as Monkrion had given. he left
the child sobbing hysterically on the floor, curled up in a tight ball.
Dropping the whip, he grabbed the little cat
by the mane and hauled him to his feet, then grabbed both his arms
and brought his own face close to the cub's.
"I am through playing games with you. If this is what it takes
to keep you in line, this is what I will do. I am
not as nice as Monkrion is, brat." He shook the boy. "Now
you tell me what you are, you worthless shit!"
Orion had learned an important lesson in just those few minutes: Blackmoor
did not care if he lived or
died. And he was cruel. He would not openly defy the jackal
again. Through his tears, Orion stammered, "A
slave..."
Blackmoor shook him again. "What was that, little shit? What are you to call me?"
Terrified simply by these words, Orion amended his answer, calling the
jackal master. He was released
and ordered to kneel once more. He did, crying desperately in
pain from the beating. On top of the other one,
only partly healed, it was almost too much for him to take.
"Good. Now that you know how things are done around here, we will
continue." Orion did not answer
wrong again, and a light nudge on his bloodied side or back was all
that was needed to remind him if he forgot
to answer in the right way, or if he nodded instead of answering aloud.
When the questioning was done, Blackmoor commanded the child to stand
up, and was pleased to see
than even though it was pain it hurt him, he did it anyway. "You're
a stupid slave," he said disgustedly. "And
you will not be fed tonight. Tomorrow after you've worked, you
will be given supper. If you have behaved
very well..." He sneered at the cub and lightly tapped his side
with the handle of the whip he'd retrieved from
the floor. The boy cried out and put a hand to his side. "...you
will be given a painkiller with your meal. But
only if you act exceptionally well, is that understood, maggot?"
The boy nodded immediately, and then without being prodded, said so
aloud. The poor cub had been
stuttering so badly during the questioning that Blackmoor should not
have been able to understand him...but he
had been through this numerous times...and he new how to decipher a
slave's terrified speech. That was a good
thing. It meant they feared him a great deal.
"Good. Get him out of here, put him in the box for the rest of
the day, then put him in a cell." He was
pleased at the look of fear that passed the boy's face, and he started
to stammer a plea to not be put in the
hateful tiny prison. Blackmoor simply raised an eyebrow and the
whip he held. "Did I hear you speak out of
turn, brat?"
Orion whimpered, and shook his head fast. At the rise of Blackmoor's
other brow, he quickly rectified
his answer, shaking at the realization that he either had to cooperate,
or be hurt further.
"Good." At Blackmoor's dismissal, Monkrion nodded and dragged the cub out to put him in the box.
He pulled the child out several hours later, panting for breath and
whimpering uncontrollably. He got
no trouble as he half led, half dragged Orion to the main cell block,
a large, plain, stone building of 6 X 6 cells
with nothing in them but a hole in the corner for a toilet. The
simian threw the boy into an empty one and left
him for the night,
Orion did not sleep...he was in too much pain. He cried softly
the whole night while most of the other
slaves slept. They were used to hearing such things. Only
two hours before he would be awakened to work in
one of the silver mines, he finally passed out from sheer exhaustion.
Blackmoor using the whip
Blackmoor
and orion
Chapter 10
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