The Dominatrix

I woke up to the sound of the metal door unlocking. When the door swung open, a shadowy person stood in the doorway. I paid no mind to the person but instead focused on the outside, it looked like it was around noon. My thoughts about how long I was out were interrupted by the person kicking me in the chest as I laid there. A woman with a slender frame, leather armor, and black face tattoos almost unnoticed by her darker complexion stood above me.

Just as I tried to stumble towards the exit, one of the slavers from before stepped into the door frame and I felt the woman deliver another sharp kick to my side. She got on top of me, turned me over, and socked me right in the face. She held the collar of my jacket and I studied her for a brief second between the blows. She was pretty cute; her black hair was knotted behind her head, but her pretty face was giving me the meanest feminine frown I'd ever seen beneath the tattoos.

Again, not knowing where my sense of humor came from, I said, "Don't you work for Big Nose Sally?"

With that, she sneered and gave me the worst beating of my life (Or one of them). At least the big bald slavers had the decency to knock me out. The beating felt like a few months, but after about five minutes; she threw my head into the side of the wall and got up to walk out.

Before she left, I spat the blood from my mouth and said weak and defeatedly, "But baby, I didn't even get your name?"

She stopped in the doorway, turned around, and hurled a can of food right at my head. I raised my arm to deflect it; the heavy can of food pelted my arm and leaked its contents onto the ground leaving an open gash where it impacted me.

She said, "Eat that food, can't have you weak when our boys from The Den get here."

Still feeling the gash in my arm and the bruises from the beating, I responded with a dead joke, "Usually my dates get me dinner Before the rough stuff…"

I chuckled to myself, feeling the blood start to pool in my mouth. Looking up, she had closed the distance and gave me another swift kick in the side before slamming the door. I heard a pound on the metal and her voice shout, "We'll break that stupid sense of humor soon enough!"

I struggled to move as almost every part of my body was bruised. I shuffled towards the can of food still leaking onto the dirt. I always liked "Pork n Beans" so I lifted the can, popped the top, and poured what was left into my mouth not even bothering to chew. I was so hungry I even ate some of what was on the ground. Despite the grains of dirt, that was the best tasting food I had in a while. I started to feel better as I ate and rubbed some of the more painful bruises. I laid my head against the wall opposite the door and seriously wondered if I had brain damage. I had been hit in the head more times the past 24 hours than in my life. I considered that was where my joking sense came from since I never had the luxury of being funny before this mess (Or even during it really). While resting against the wall, sore, and mind full of thoughts, I passed out again.

I awoke yet again to the same sound of the door unlocking. When it opened, I noticed the same slaver woman from before and again took the time to notice that it was late afternoon. I guessed that it was probably 5 or 6pm before I was assaulted yet again by the same witch. I took the blows; thankfully, most of them were to the parts of my body already numb. She finished the dance by pinning me down and throwing my head into the solid dirt. I didn't have the energy that time to say anything witty/stupid and that fact was acknowledged.

She stood in the doorway and said, "What? No jokes? Oh well, no food either."

I gave a smile, still in a daze from the beating and heard the door slam shut. No time for thinking or licking wounds. I immediately passed out again.

When I awoke again, it wasn't to the sound of the door, it was to the voice of the slaver woman. She knelt beside me while two other slavers held their weapons at me in the silo.

I awoke from a dreamless sleep to hear her say, "Don't worry Sean, we'll fix you up right as rain. Can't sell a dead slave, can we?..."

She held an object steadily in front of my face for a few seconds. My vision was too blurry to make out what it was, but it looked like a syringe of some sort.

She said, "Usually we would never give a slave a stimpack, but Fat Jimbo wants you alive as long as possible. We want you to live a long, long, long, miserable life…"

I barely even felt the needle go into my arm but almost immediately felt the gelatinous fluid start moving through my veins. One of the bald slavers poured a bottle of water into my mouth and I tried hard to swallow as much as I could. Everything went black for a few minutes, then my eyes shot open and I felt completely fine.

I sat up slowly while the slavers still stood over me. The door was open, and it looked like it was night. I wasn't sure, but it looked like it was maybe 9 or 10pm. The slavers were only shadowy figures just barely illuminated by the moonlight through the top of the silo.

There, the woman asked, "Feel better? You were almost a goner. Can't have you getting away that easily."

The slavers all chuckled, and I nodded. Then, she said enthusiastically, "Great!"

The men left the silo, but one stood in the doorway. Immediately, the woman proceeded to kick the ever-living shit out of me again. All my wounds and bruises were healed by the gelatinous fluid of the stimpack, so this beating was especially painful. When it was over, I laid there absolutely covered in dirt from the constant battery.

As she was leaving, I said, "You're leaving? I thought you'd at Least spend the night?"

She laughed, "There's that sense of humor!"

She walked towards me and proceeded to punch and kick me repeatedly for another full minute. Before locking me away again, she said, "See you in the morning!"

I hung my head and gave a pathetic wave just as the door closed and locked. I was amazed that none of my bones were broken, but it was still hard to move my arms and legs. The fresh bruises made the previous injuries release their pain yet again. I crawled over and rested myself against the door. I wanted to save them the trouble of approaching me on the far end when morning came.

I almost wanted to thank them for saving my life, even though I knew that it was just so they could torture me some more (Perhaps that was what they intended). I hung my head and felt every inch of my body give off sharp pain. I couldn't even think about anything other than the sharp pain of the open wounds and dull pain of the bruised ones. I held my mouth open and shut my eyes, letting the blood from my mouth run down my chin and drip onto my jacket. While focusing on the cool stream of blood, I fell asleep.

I woke up to my head hitting the ground with eyes staring up at the night sky. A woman concealed by the night stood over me. I thought I wasn't going to see the dominatrix until morning?

As soon as I had that thought, the concealed woman's voice said, "You ain't Robert? Who the hell are… Oh my God, Haha! It's Sean."

This wasn't the voice of that slaver woman.

This person knelt down, snapped my handcuffs with some sort of tool and said quietly, "Get up. You're free. Get the Hell out of here."

Before I could say, plan, or process anything, I stumbled to my feet and looked around. I looked every direction like a paranoid weirdo and before I could run in any direction, I was halted by the woman again.

Still just a shadow standing next to me, she said, "Wait! Take this key. Get to my house in the Trapper Town. It's the house across the courtyard from Fat Jimbo's place. Don't get caught."

Unable to speak, I nodded, took the key, and ran in the direction I vaguely remember being dragged. I looked back to see the silo I was locked in, and two others next to it. I took the mystery woman's advice and crept through the alleyways. The air was still cold against my battered face as I looked around every corner for slavers. I walked through the wreckage of outer Klamath and even past an almost restored car before reaching the chain link fence separating the Trapper Town from the Downtown. Just beyond the fence I saw the Golden Gecko all lit up and sounding like fun. Creeping along the fence, I climbed over some wreckage to the courtyard of the Trapper Town. I looked around the corner of a building to see Fat Jimbo's men standing guard in front of his building. The courtyard was littered with prewar wreckage and had over a dozen trappers skinning their kills or roasting them over big fires. Aside from the lit buildings and fires, the town was dark. Moving in the shadows, I crossed the courtyard and walked inconspicuously to the house described by the mystery woman.

I pulled up the key, and entered the building quietly closing the door behind me. When I turned the lock, I slowly turned around half expecting this to be a setup. But there I was, alone in a small living room. I pushed my back against the wall underneath the window to the courtyard. I looked around the woman's living room. There was a couch to my right, with end tables on both sides, a large rug in the center of the room, two doorways opposite the entrance, and a fireplace between them. Along the walls were different trophies showing the woman was a trapper, and an empty gun rack mounted to the left wall between two gecko heads. Just above the fireplace was a clock. I couldn't see the time, but I heard the tiny metallic clicking each second that passed. I sat there under the window rubbing my wounds wondering all the while if this was a dream. I was fading in and out of sleep, but when I heard the unlocking of the door, my eyes shot open.