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She moved with the grace and loveliness that was now hers, that of the female slave. She was stripped, and wore not so much as a collar, but her hair, grown longer now, and slave lovely, fell about her. On her left breast, inscribed there with a marker, in soft grease, was a lot number, the number 117.
-Prize of Gor, Chapter 22, page 699
He softly stroked my jaw one last time with his fingertips before climbing out of the car. Turning, he extended his hand to me, which I took and climbed out after him. His arm slipped around my waist to rest possessively on my hip. He brushed back his ebony blazer to stick his left hand in his pocket and leisurely strolled up to the building with me. I recognized where we were. I'd been here before when I was brought to be 'fixed up' by Makenna. That thought made me wonder if she was still here and if she was okay.
I kept my eyes towards the ground as we approached the tall brick building. I could see sharply dressed men at the entrance out of my periphery and kept his rules in mind. I'd do anything to avoid isolation.
I heard the quiet pleasantries as Jasper brought out what looked like a dark gold membership card and handed it over. They looked at it for a few moments, flipping it over once before handing it back to him. As he reached out and took it with two fingers I could see a photo of him and three white butterfly masquerade masks above his name that was written in a fancy script. As he slid his fingers over it to slip it back in his pocket I could see a name written above the masks. Balthazar's. How fitting. An auction house named after a minion of the Devil.
It made me wonder how they didn't get caught doing human trafficking here. My attention was pulled back to the present by a deep voice. "Welcome back, Mr. Whitlock."
I saw Jasper nod cordially as he pulled me against him again and led me inside. The temperature change was immediate and made chill bumps pop up on my arms from the drastic temperature change from outside to in here. I folded my arms under my breasts, hugging them against me and being strangely thankful from the heat being emitted from El Diablo.
The next thing I noticed were the sage colored walls and cream marble flooring. Our shoes clicked on the tiles and it made me hate this place even more. I chanced a peek up and around, seeing large green plants in pots sitting in little alcoves that housed stained glass windows. I don't know how I didn't see any of this last time unless I was brought in the back way. Then again, the last time I was here was much more traumatic and I was mainly all in my head rather than where I was physically so I could have come this way and not remembered it.
We turned from the main entryway and walked down a wide, long carpeted hallway towards a set of double doors at the end. On the right were sets of french doors spaced between fifteen and twenty feet apart. Some were open and some were closed. I chanced a glance in as we passed and saw auction rooms. Although, in these rooms I saw pieces of art, furniture and antiques and many other things. What confused me though, was the name written in script above and behind the auctioneer's podium. I didn't understand at first why its name was displayed as Gabriel's when El Diablo's card read Balthazar's.
When we reached the double doors at the end of the hallway, Jasper reached back into his pocket and retrieved his card again. Something was off about the door handle, I noticed almost immediately. When I looked closer at where the lock should be, I saw a tiny red light. He swiped his card in front of it and the little light turned green before there was a very quiet clicking noise. He grabbed the handle and quickly opened it, pulling me inside and made sure the other two got in before closing it securely.
From my peripheral I could see two other men guarding an elevator. They must have recognized him though because they'd already moved to push the button and nodded to him, to which he nodded back. The shiny silver double doors opened almost immediately. This I recognized. I remembered the doors and seeing my reflection in their mirror-like shiny surface. We entered silently and he pushed a button, causing us to go up. Rosalie and the Ape Man were completely silent and I felt their eyes on me occasionally. This striked me as unusual.
I watched as the lights above the door lit up five times before the doors slid open again. This floor wasn't the one I visited last time. This floor had plush white carpets with red walls, white ceiling and white trim.
Jasper never loosened his hold on me and I never really pulled my gaze from the floor with the exception of when I peeked in the auction rooms, down the long hallway and when we first stepped off the elevator. We passed two doors before we went in one on the right. I pulled my eyes up enough to see if we were alone before looking around the room freely. It looked like a library with an enormous fireplace that had tall wire doors covered in metal designs. They created a picture of the desert landscape complete with cacti, mesas, coyotes, tumbleweeds and a big sun.
While I was admiring the fireplace, El Diablo was off to the side, fiddling with something. I glanced over and saw him messing with three little statues on the floating shelf next to the mantle. The center one was a cacti and the ones on either side were statues of Kokopelli. I recognized the statue as the fertility, music and agricultural deity among Southwestern Native American tribes. Each of the end statues were facing away from the cactus. He studied them for a few moments before sliding the two outer statues to where the three bases were flush against each other. Right after he did that, there was a sound of a heavy lock being unlocked and a quiet pop.
Coming back over, Jasper took me by the waist, my hands automatically going to rest on his shoulders. "Hop." He said quietly. I bent my knees and did as he asked before I could really process it and the next thing I knew I was standing up on the tall stone hearth. He jumped up next to me easily before opening the doors and revealing the back of the fireplace cracked open on one side. A secret door.
Pulling me back against him, he led me through the fireplace and pushed the door open, revealing a pair of jet black elevator doors. Moving us over, he pushed a cream button button but didn't take his finger off of it. The cream slowly turned to red and he waited to pull his finger back when the doors opened. It clicked in my mind then, a fingerprint scanner. Most likely the last line of defense before we got to Balthazar's. The name written on the back of the elevator car made me understand something else as well. Balthazar's was the darker side of things while Gabriel's was the legitimate auction house.
After we were all loaded into the car, El Diablo pushed the button to go down. I counted six floors before getting worried. The place was a five story building, but I expected a basement so that totaled to six. My fears were alleviated quickly though when I heard the ding and the doors began sliding open yet again. It must have been a subbasement.
It was almost disturbing with how close he kept me to him the entire time. We exited the cab and walked into the men walking around. He seemed to be leading me somewhere specific. After a few more minutes though, I could see. I automatically halted and mentally reminded myself that he said I couldn't look at the men, but didn't mention the women. Apparently that was the point of this trip, for me to see them.
They were each on their own little platforms. Each of them having steps that led up onto them and fashioned into two rows. There were women of all kinds. Short, tall, chubby, slender, blonds, brunettes, redheads and skin tones of all sorts. Men circled them loosely, checking out the females they were interested in. I was confused by a few things, noting that some wore what looked like a horse's bit in their mouths. Some had their arms bound behind them to a post and others stood meekly in terror and stared at the ground. They were all naked and they all had a wide ribbon around their necks that were tied into bows. There was a difference in the bows though. Some wore black satin ribbons, some wore red satin ribbons and others wore pink ribbons, although some wore a white ribbon in addition to their other ribbon. I wanted to ask, but was almost afraid of the answer I'd receive so I kept my mouth shut.
Apparently Jasper saw the gears turning behind my eyes because a moment later he brushed my hair behind my shoulder and leaned in to speak very quietly in my ear. I involuntarily shuddered from the proximity of his lips to the shell of my ear. My skin was crawling form the scene in front of me and from the proximity of his lips to my skin. His hands rested on my waist as he began to lead me forward slowly once again.
"Their bows are significant, representing their nature. Ones with black bows will be the hardest to break. The ones with red bows will be challenging but will succumb faster than the ones with the black bows. The ones with pink bows are the docile ones. Typically they've already been owned or were bred to be sold. They were raised to be totally submissive and ready for a new Master." I involuntarily halted at that, almost causing him to run into me. People were bred to be sold? He spoke of them as if they were animals! I supposed in his world though, that's how he looked at some people. Like the caste system in some cultures. I shuddered in disgust. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. I had a feeling this entire experience would come back to haunt me for quite some time.
I caught sight of one with both a pink and a white bow. She was young, probably between sixteen and eighteen. I couldn't hear from here, but someone had commanded for her to open her mouth. Her blue eyes were unfocused, like she'd checked herself out for the event and went on autopilot. A large hand grasped her jaw gently, not wanting to damage the goods I supposed, and turned her head this way and that. When he pulled her cheek aside it was evident he was inspecting her teeth. My stomach rolled and I wanted so badly to throw up but I was still admant in my resolve not to go back to the isolation room and that included not embarrassing Jasper.
I took slow, deep breaths, closing my eyes until that immanent feeling of vomiting left. When I opened my eyes again, he was looking at me intently, leaned slightly around my side so he could see my face as I processed it all. He looked at me steadily, almost expectantly. I licked my lips nervously and looked back to the girls. He resumed with what he was talking about momentarily afterwards.
"The ones with the white ribbons are virgins. They're all inspected by a gynecologist that Bal has on his payroll. He does a typical round of tests to see if they have STD's and other general health issues and of course to verify that they are in fact virgins. You can guess why some of them are wearing the bits or bound or both." He glanced to me, apparently expecting me to answer him. I thought for a minute before answering.
"They tried to bite? Or fight? Or both?" I whispered to him in question. He responded with a nod.
"Yes. They tried successfully or unsuccessfully to bite or claw their way away. As you can see it was futile. They were bound and the biters were gagged as well." He walked us farther along the line, in front of the platforms as men circled around them like vultures studying their prey. I watched, sickened, as men evaluated them by touching their hair, looking at their teeth, squeezing their breasts and bottoms, stroking their skin to check it's quality. I silently wondered how the biters had their teeth checked.
Then I saw the bit gag being removed from a redhead and her jaw being forcibly opened long enough to stick an O-ring gag in. It had what looked to be rubber tubing that extended back an inch from the ring to keep her teeth from being able to clamp down and forcing her mouth to remain open as long as it was in. One man hooked his finger between her lip and the ring, pulling it to the side some and shining a penlight in as another man held the woman's head still. Her eyes were wild and filled with hate. I didn't blame her, I would be too. I was sure mine had instances where they were like that as well.
We didn't pause again, but slowly walked between the dual rows of platforms. I noticed this huge underground area wasn't like the rest of the place. It had thick navy velvet curtains lining the walls. I supposed they were hiding rooms or alcoves or something from those that didn't know about them and that needed to remain secret. The floors were ash blonde hardwood as were the platforms. Two walls were lined with theater like seats in rows with each row being slightly more elevated than the one in front of it.
In the center of the room was a large ash blonde platform that was about six feet high and had a matching podium. There was a slightly elevated three by three foot block on the corner closest to where the audience would be. It was where they had them stand to give the best view for the bidders. He came back by my side again as we rounded the end of the platform lane and headed us towards the seating area.
We sat on the bottom row off to the left side of the stage. As the seats started filling up I noticed something. There were several members of the audience who were wearing one of those white butterfly masks like on Jasper's Balthazar's card. When I looked to him, he was relaxed and reclined back in his seat, legs crossed and the index finger of his left hand running along his bottom lip. He must have felt my eyes on him because he glanced to me with slightly raised brows. I gulped and decided that I may as well ask him. If nothing else he could always tell me he didn't know and to hush.
When I leaned toward him, he leaned towards me in turn, tilting his head away so my lips would be at his ear. Like his had been to mine when he was explaining everything to me. I repressed a shudder before asking my question.
"Master," I felt like I'd bitten into a crab apple by saying it on my own. "Why are so many wearing masks?" I whispered my query quietly into his ear. He turned his head and so did I so I could hear him.
"Because, Isabella, not all us can afford to be seen or recognized. Some feel the need to protect their identity from others floating around here. The list could be found out I suppose. Bal has a master list. He knows every single person here. They are here on invitation or request only." His answer made a lot of sense and I didn't know why I didn't think of it. It was like a VIP party. If you weren't on the list, you didn't get in.
I nodded quietly and settled back into my seat again. When most everyone was in their seats, the first was brought to the block and she was wearing a pink bow. It made me think of lambs being brought to slaughter. She was the same one I'd watched have her teeth inspected. She still had that same look in her eye and it made me wonder if she'd always been like that. If her eyes had always been so dull. Maybe she had moments she had to herself where the light came back and she was more than just a resemblance of a reanimated corpse.
The auctioneer started the bidding at seven hundred thousand dollars. Immediately there were white paddles flashing up here and there as the numbers got higher and higher. Finally after three and a half million, the auctioneer ended things.
"Going once... Going twice... Sold! To bidder number 2545. Remember! Please wait until the end to pick up and pay at the office behind the display area."
Never once did she raise her eyes or try to cover herself. She stood there with her arms to her sides, her posture perfect and her eyes glued to the stage floor. When she was called towards the back to the stage after the bidding was over, she promptly turned and went back to him with her eyes still towards the floor.
They sold the women off in groups by ribbon color. Most of the ones who wore pink ribbons stood and acted the same. Eyes on the floor, excellent posture, obvious submissive tendencies. They were meant for people who didn't want to work much to get the perfect slave. They were nearly perfect for them already.
The ones with the red and black ribbons were a different sight all together. They had to be carried on stage due to being tied into different positions with ropes. Some were on their knees with their hands behind their backs. Some had their hands tied behind or above their heads. Some unfortunate few were tied to where they were kneeling with their chests to the ground and their arms tied behind them. Forced into the ultimate submissive pose. One thing they had in common though was that they were all tied securely to a post that stuck up in the middle of the platform.
Even from where we sat, you could see the fire in their eyes, could feel the hatred as it rained out onto the audience. They would be hard to break and I was willing to bet that some would lose their lives either from attempting to run away or from attacking the man that purchased them. That's what seemed to attract several of these men though. They were truly sadistic and obviously had no issue doing whatever it took to strip them completely of themselves and turn them into their perfect little doll. They definitely fetched a higher price. Most likely because of the fight that was promised to their new owners, the challenge of it all.
One woman who was wearing a black ribbon caught my eye in particular. Most of the others struggled against their bonds and glared, but this one sneered and glared and clearly spoke promises of what would happen should any of them dare to buy her. She had waist length auburn hair that had been styled into a messy braid and pulled into a thick bun at the base of her head before she was brought on stage. Her fair complexion almost glowed underneath the bright lights and her crystal blue eyes sparkled with the different emotions running through her. She was gorgeous, smart and fiery. She definitely fetched a pretty penny.
I sat, statue still, throughout the entire ordeal. I couldn't bring myself to move, being so deeply lost in my thoughts. I was so focused on them and my thoughts that I paid little mind to anything else. My mind drifted to the morbid when I thought of where they were going and what they were about to go through. I pondered on their different backgrounds and where they may have came from. My mind went in so many directions and I was so deep into that train of thought that I had to clench my jaw shut and not squeak in surprise when Jasper lightly touched my arm. My eyes shot to him and my brow raised in question.
He leaned in and I turned my ear to him again. "Bal would like to meet you. You may look at him and you may speak to him when he speaks to you. Be polite and on your best behavior. Understand?"
Instead of giving me his ear, he looked me in the eye and held my gaze for a moment to let me in on his seriousness. I was basically cheek to cheek with him when I leaned in to whisper "Yes, Master." into his ear.
He looked pleased when he leaned back into his seat and folded his hands against his stomach while his elbows rested on his armrests.
I wanted to slap him.
We watched the final one be sold off to one of the masked men before people began to trickle out. The buyers headed back to the office where they were formerly indicated to go to complete their purchase.
We on the other hand went to the other corner of the room. Jasper led us to the corner and pulled me in front of him before glancing around and slipping us both behind the thick blue velvet. We were in an alcove at a door now. He knocked twice before a silky voice bade us to enter. He opened the door and I took sight of Balthazar himself.
He was a handsome man that was probably in his late forties with clear, sharp eyes and an angular jaw. His dark hair was slicked back and had curls in the ends. His eyes were dark, like his hair but he had fair skin. He wore a black vest atop a crisp white shirt and I could spot a maroon coat hanging from the corner of his chair. Something prodded at me in my mind and made me think that he most likely belonged with the Russians. His accent when he spoke confirmed it.
"Jasper my friend! Come in, come in! Long time no see." He motioned us in with both hands and I took notice of a thick cigar he was smoking. My eyes went to inventory his desk but everything was covered in papers, pens and newspapers with the exception of an ashtray.
"It has been quite some time hasn't it Bal? My apologies. You must come out and spend a weekend with us sometime." At the sound of his voice as he extended the invitation, I could tell that this was more than just politeness and niceties. Bal was an actual friend.
"That would be wonderful! Your female chef, Charlotte makes the most wonderful dishes. Her borscht reminds me of my mother's back home." He smiled slightly and sighed a bit wistfully.
"Then I shall have her make some of that during your stay with us... Tell me Bal, what have you been up to lately?" He gave me a gentle nudge, indicating me to take the chair I'd unknowingly moved in front of. We sat at the same time but instead of relaxing back, I kept my back straight and folded my hands in my lap, quietly observing.
"Oh, you know, all the things that come with operating the 'other side' of the house. Arranging items to transport the girls in, getting the girls, getting them primped for sale-" That was about the time I zoned out. It was hard enough being here, but to actually hear about the business would probably cause another disastrous mood swing where I would do something like jump across the desk and attempt to ring his neck. That would most likely result in my death and if not then my punishment would be to the extent to make me wish I was dead. I came out of my morbid musings to see where they were in their conversation just in time to hear him ask Jasper what he'd been up to.
In response, he took a side glance at me. With this action came the idea that maybe Jasper didn't always stay cooped up in his office. He'd probably been there because he'd had me drug me down here and now we were both miserable.
"Bal, I'd like for you to meet Isabella. Isabella, say hello to Bal." He said as he kept his eyes on mine.
I paused and kept his gaze but for a second before turning and looking right into the eyes of the friend and minion of El Diablo. "Hello, sir."
I thought politeness was the way to go at the current time and apparently I guessed right. Bal's lips formed into a charming grin.
"It's nice to finally meet you Isabella. I've heard much about you." He eyed me speculatively and I wondered what he'd been told.
My eyes slid to Jasper a moment to give him a questioning look before looking back to Bal. "It's nice to meet you too, sir." I gave him a hesitant smile and the feeling felt so foreign. I hadn't really smiled since I'd been captured. Before I could think too far on this Bal looked at something above the doorway and his eyes slide back to Jasper.
"Things should be about ready Jasper." His look is a serious one and I can read the question of 'Are you sure?' in his eyes. I chance a glance to Jasper who responds to the silent question. His eyes telling Bal 'Absolutely.' with no wavering.
They both stand and it cues me to stand as well. I glance back towards the door to see a clock. This must have just been something to pass time until whatever he wanted me to see was ready. I felt my gut roll in anticipation and dread. I just knew this wasn't going to be good.
"Two weekends from now Bal?" I turned in time to see the Russian nod with a warm smile for his friend before he turned to me. "Until next time Isabella." He extended his hand to me and I took it, shaking it before replying "Until next time, Sir.".
Jasper placed his hand on my lower back and led me back out the door and through the curtain. We made to head towards the exit and I caught sight of a few people milling around, cleaning up and whatnot. I about stumbled when he made a sharp left, approximately twenty feet short of the exit. Apparently there was another secret room he was taking me in because we were headed straight for the curtained walls again. I faintly wondered if we were going to find the Wizard behind one of them.
He pushed a door open silently and slipped in, pulling me after him and closing the door soundly behind us, locking it. There were two arm chairs facing a dark room. He motioned to one and sat in the other. I followed suit silently. I had millions of questions, but truly wanted answers to none of them. I crossed my arms and tapped my fingers nervously against my forearm. Before much longer a door in the other room was opened and when the lights in there came on, ours went off. They drug in a shapely brunette, struggling and yelling through her gag as best as she could the entire way. Her hair was up in curls and she wore a red bow around her neck. That meant she was a fighter.
She was drug to the middle of the room before her bow was pulled off and stuffed in the man's pocket. He was wearing a mask so I couldn't really tell was he looked like. He had four other men with him who all wore masks as well. They all began to disrobe and hang their clothing on hooks behind them. The man in the middle of the floor removed her gag and she began to scream at him. That lasted for all of two seconds before he delivered a slap sharp enough to send her careening to the floor.
I could see the fire rage in her eyes with indignation at being slapped. Her cheek was bright red already but she scrambled back to her feet and attempted to attack him this time. He neatly dodged her and simply delivered another sharp slap, this time to her other cheek. He made a motion to the others and two arose. One picked up some rope and the other tossed the main guy something black. He adjusted it in his hand and waited for her to get back up. This time it took her a little bit longer, but up she got again.
The other two grabbed her by the arms when she went after the man again. She opened her mouth and got out "You can't d-" before he shoved what looked to be like one of those gags the kept the biters from biting as they had their teeth inspected and secured it behind her head. The other two men took out a length of black rope and secured her from her wrists to her elbows behind her back before popping her behind the knees and guiding her to the ground when they buckled.
They took the rope and flung it up, over a single thick wooden beam that ran the width of the room and pulled until her arms were high in the air and it forced her to remain bent. They cut off a length of that rope and proceeded to tie her legs where she was forced into her kneeling position . They were fast and efficient and didn't give her much time to fight back or try to squirm.
After she was bound to their satisfaction the other men took hold of a table and began bringing it over as soon as they lifted her off the ground. Once she was settled on it, they took the rope that was attached to her arms and tightened it again to force her back into the position they were after. After she was in place they tightened cuffs around her ankles, restricting her movement almost entirely.
My heart thudded in my chest as I realized what exactly was going to happen. All the men were now sporting prominent erections and were beginning to surround her. First though, the man that purchased her took out his own cock from his pants and began to trace along her face, smearing the fluid leaking from his tip along her features. After a few moments, he roughly shoved it into her mouth and began pumping in and out at a rapid pace. I could hear her sounds of protests and see the tears that began to trickle from her tightly closed eyes. Before he was finished, he pulled out and went around to the other side and stood between where her feet hung off the table.
She was wet by no means, but that was no issue for he had the saliva that coated him from her mouth and he slid into her effortlessly. He fucked her despite her warbling protests and pleas to stop. Her tears turned from streams to rivers as she was systematically violated. He was taking her in every way he could before he would share her. After another five or so minutes, he withdrew from her depths again, this time to penetrate her last available orifice. He was not gentle and he did not stop or slow down. Her screams reverberated in my ears and the sight of her face as precious things were ripped from her was burned into my mind. His moves hastened into a frenzy before he stiffened and pushed himself flush against her. He remained still a moment or so before catching his breath and pulling away.
He motioned to the others and they began having their fill of her as well. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to break through the window and kill each and every man in that room. I was frozen. I could barely blink let alone make any real thought process.
After each of them finished, they redressed casually and strolled out the door until it was just the girl and her new master left. She had a puddle of tears on the floor beneath where she lay her head on the edge of the table. Her eyes were slightly vacant. I felt dizzy for a second before I heard the quiet words of Jasper. "Breathe, Bella." And so I did, I took a slow, deep breath to keep myself from vomiting up everything in my system from the horror I had just witnessed.
The man looked towards the door as it opened and nodded to the man in white scrubs and a surgical face covering that had just entered the room with a cart. From here I could see a blue round cylinder and some metal rods sitting atop of the cart. The masked man got up and went over with the guy who appeared to be a doctor. The stood directly behind the female who was still stuck with her behind slightly in the air. They were motioning to areas on her thighs and on her buttocks. Finally they came to some kind of conclusion and the man went to sit back down. The doctor on the other hand, picked up the blue cylinder and I could now see that it was a torch.
A gasp ripped from me and I whipped my head over to find him staring at me as I stared at him wide-eyed.
"Please, please don't make me watch this Master, please!" I begged. I would do anything to avoid this. If I didn't see it, then it wouldn't be completely real in my mind on some level. If I saw it, I knew I'd see it behind my eyelids for ages and I didn't want that memory with me.
"Isabella, you spoke in your sleep of how it didn't matter that you weren't auctioned off and I wanted you to see, really see, how much better you have it with me, rather than with some stranger with morals that are way below even my own. With me, I provide you with a warm bed, nutritious food, nice clothes and easy work when I require it of you. I don't molest you or rape you or whore you out to my men. I don't beat you, either. If you want to know what a real beating is, we can visit Makenna next and speak with her. I've spanked you and slapped you the one time when you spit in my face. I tolerate being spit on by nobody. Had it been anyone else I would have pulled out my .45 and blown their brains out. I feel like you need to witness all of this as your punishment and so you shall or you will be punished again by a different method." He leaned towards me throughout his little speech until his face was close to mine, his eyes deadly serious.
My heart dropped and my eyes fell as I nodded silently. Any other punishment would most likely mean the cage for longer and without the comforts of it, or being stuck in the isolation room for who knows how long. I drug my eyes back up just as the man finished cleaning the area of her skin to be branded. He drew the pattern on and then picked his torch back up first. I supposed he was taking inventory before he really began when he picked it up the first time. Jasper's sigh took my eyes back to him again.
"Maybe I should have just taken you to the fighting rings and showed you those. Not only are there dog fights and cock fights, but also slave fights. They watch two of them fight to the death with the promise that if they get through the gambit, they'll earn their freedom. The catch is, it never ends. The girl just makes tons of profit for her Master if she's a seasoned fighter. Is that what you need to see? Go to one of these fights and watch as they rip each others hair out? See the crazed look in their eyes? Watch them fight and brutally kill one another? Is that what you really need to put you on the level?" His voice was quiet, contemplative. I'm sure imagining if it would do more 'good' than having me here.
I imagined this for a split second before I was shaking my head wildly. This was bad enough, but to watch two slaves fight for the death? If I thought this was hard to handle, I couldn't imagine being made to stand ringside for that. "No, Master! Please don't take me!" I hated that I had to beg, but I wasn't above begging to be able to avoid that situation in particular.
He eyed me for a second, "Are you going to be a good girl and take the rest of your punishment with no more fuss?" his eyebrows raised at the end and he gave an expectant look.
"I'll be good, Master." That was a genuine promise. Since I'd been there, the thought of me promising him something other than a slow painful death seemed ridiculous but I'd promise just about anything to get out of seeing a slave death match. I quickly turned my eyes back to branding that was taking place in the next room.
He slowly ran the flame of the torch over the section of the brand until it was red hot. He then lined it up with the drawing and I could tell there were four sections to be burned on. He slowly pressed the brand against her skin, it instantly blooming red. I couldn't hear it from here but my imagination instantly conjured up the hissing noise that accompanied a burn like that. I could see her muscles as she attempted to jerk and twist as she screamed and screamed and screamed in gut wrenching anguish. They had her bound securely enough where she couldn't move hardly at all. He didn't hold the brand there long, but it was more than long enough in my mind. I watched as he did the last three pieces and could never remember a time where time itself had drug my so slowly. I concentrated on my breathing and making sure everything in my stomach stayed where it was.
I could tell in the end the design she now carried. It was the initials JMC in script with a delta triangle underneath it. As he cleaned the freshly inflicted wounds, Jasper stood and offered his hand to me. I took it in a daze, the scene that had just occurred playing over and over and over in an endless loop before my eyes. My eyes remained glued to the floor as I processed everything and I reevaluated my situation. It sent a chill down my spine to realize how right he was in how well I was treated at his house. It gave me a complex because I didn't want to give in to him at all and I wanted to hate him with the entirety of my being. On the other hand, I couldn't help but be grateful that he didn't do any of those things to me. My greatest fear was being turned into a sex slave but he hadn't stepped one toe out of line in that area.
I didn't process anything as he led me out. I was lost to myself and my thoughts. He didn't have to pull me to him this time and I leaned against him, desperately seeking some sort of heat to chase away the cold that had settled inside me. Before I knew it, we were in the car and on our way home. I wrestled with myself over every emotion. I had the urge, the pull to be grateful for being spared those horrors but the other side of me screamed that even though he didn't do that, it didn't make what he'd done any more right. The two parts of my psyche wrestled around for the rest of the silent ride and as we pulled back up to the gated entryway I came a conclusion.
I concluded that despite the fact that it didn't make what he did okay by any means of the imagination, I could be grateful that he didn't do anything truly horrendous to me. Like put a red hot piece of metal to my skin to mark me as his for the rest of my life. I could be grateful that despite the hell I was in, it was a better hell than that other girl was going to have to endure.
As the house came into view, glittery spots began to swim before my vision. The toll of the day was finally crashing down on me and my mind reacted the only way it knew how to. The car came to a slow stop at the walkway and as I went to get out of the car, the world went black. I felt a pair of strong arms catch me from the descent I was making to become acquainted with the ground.
"Isabella!" was the last thing I heard before the black bliss swallowed me.
Note: Teasers will probably be sent out Monday. My PIC is going out of town and i'mma be working 12 hours a day until Monday. So please be an eensy bit patient with us! Thanks!
She moved with the grace and loveliness that was now hers, that of the female slave. She was stripped, and wore not so much as a collar, but her hair, grown longer now, and slave lovely, fell about her. On her left breast, inscribed there with a marker, in soft grease, was a lot number, the number 117. (Place: outside of Brundisium during a Camp Festival, lot number is for the upcoming slave auction) (Prize of Gor, Chapter 22, page 699)