Marcel led me away from what I had come to know as the shopping district and toward a part of the satellite that I had never seen. The halls were long, but the doors were spaced widely apart, and I wondered that would take so much room inside them.
"Your boy, he is fast, no?" Marcel asked as he opened the door.
"He can be quick when he wants to be," I said as I entered the room.
"That is good," Marcel said as I got my first look at what appeared to be a long, fairly easy obstacle course. "Because today he will run the gauntlet."
Of all the things Marcel could have chosen, this was the one I feared most. The gauntlet would meld Heero's greatest fear with a sense of helplessness that could only be contrived by depriving one of the most vital senses.
"You're slave looks frightened," Marcel commented as Heero came to my side. I looked at him. His eyes were scared, but as he looked into my eyes I could see a hardening, a trust.
"Just some jitters," I said, stroking his face, "he's probably just too excited about the race," I lied.
"Well, then, I'll leave you to put your slave into his gear, unless you want one of my pets to help you," he said smiling with an icy overtone. He wanted that ring, and I wasn't sure he was above cheating to get it.
"No, it's fine. What kind of master would I be if I couldn't care for a single slave?" I asked, smiling back in the same manner. He nodded and walked off to the other side of the room.
I took a moment to get a better grasp on my surroundings. The room was large and bright, giving it something of a warehouse feel. It was almost divided in half, as there was a long track down the middle with two starting gates and evenly spaced barriers down the middle. The track itself was simply a long area of sand, dotted with padded barriers. At first it looked more like a place to play paint-ball than an obstacle course, but remembering that the slaves would be blindfolded and led with a whip added a degree of difficulty to it. I flinched as I realized how little protection the padding would add to the solid barriers if a person were to hit them running at full force. Heero would certainly need a hot bath tonight, regardless of the outcome of the race.
"Master?" Heero called, pulling my attention back. "Could you help me?" he asked. I smiled, as though it was even a question.
I turned around to find that Heero had already stripped and was holding up a type of harness. I had no doubt that it was impossible to put on alone, otherwise he would have already had it on. So stubborn.
I held the harness as Heero stepped in, then pulled it up to watch it cover his crotch in a sort of cup, then extend in straps further up to secure around his shoulders and latch behind his head. It would keep the cup from falling off and potentially damaging Heero, and it was indeed impossible to put on alone. I patted Heero's shoulder once it was finished and he turned around.
"My hands must be secured," he said in monotone, telling me just how afraid he truly was. Still, I could do nothing but take the strong fabric from the box on the floor and tie his hands behind him. Once finished with that, I moved on to the gag, which was designed so that it would tie around the head, preventing it from coming off, to serve as both a gag and a mouthpiece, keeping Heero from biting his tongue. I lifted the blindfold, staring Heero deeply in the eyes before putting it on. Only when I could see the fear fading from his eyes did I cover them, and even then it was difficult. Finally, I picked up the small pieces of foam that would block all the sound from Heero's ears.
"You know that I won't hurt you," I whispered softly in his ear. "I need to know that you won't panic, that you'll trust me with this," I said. Heero gulped and nodded. With a deep breath, I put the earplugs in place and turned to see if the competitors were ready.
I looked just in time to see the crowd of slaves part to reveal a very skinny, shaking blond in their middle. He was in his harness and gag, but not his blindfold, and I couldn't tell about the earplugs, but I assumed they were in. Marcel approached with the blindfold and the boy looked up at him with such terror, such sadness... I never could have done it, but he did without hesitation.
It was no easier to move to the starting line with those eyes covered. The boy tried to struggle away, but the slaves were pitiless, and pulled him to the gate. I guided Heero with two hands on his shoulders, and he went without protest. I might have backed out, otherwise.
The objective was simple; get your slave to the other end of the course first. There was a solid wall off padding at the other end, because they slaves obviously could not tell when the race was over, and the first slave to run into it would win. We were to guide the slaves with whips, meaning that we would have to move with them down the course. We wouldn't have to move as quickly, though, because of the long reach on the whip. The course was probably less than a hundred yards long, but I doubted it would be over quickly.
As I put Heero at the starting line, I forced myself to block out the other team. Seeing that boy at the mercy of that man... I couldn't risk the distraction. Instead, I focused on Heero, so when the starting bell rang, I instantly delivered a stinging blow to his rear and he set off like a rocket.
Heero ran so fast out of the gate that I had to jog to keep up, and almost couldn't direct him away from the first obstacle. It was a block the size of a football player, right in the middle. I raised the whip, and, with the added difficulty of running, accidentally snapped it just above the top of his left shoulder, grazing him instead of giving him a light smack. Heero immediately dodged to the right, and gave me an idea. When the next obstacle came up, I snapped the whip above his left shoulder and, though it didn't actually hit him, he dove to the left to avoid the blow. I smiled. The race would be much easier to tolerate if I wasn't forced to actually hit Heero.
We were halfway down the course before I allowed myself to glance at our competitors. They were several feet behind us and, though the other slave was still on his feet, he was having a very difficult time with his breathing. It seemed that he had panicked and was not getting enough air in through his nose to calm himself. His face was bright red and he was gasping horribly as he tried to fill his lungs and run at the same time.
Marcel gave him no quarter. The master's face was almost as red as the slave's as he used strong smacks from his whip to almost push the boy down the track. Obviously fed up with the slave, Marcel was literally throwing the boy aside with the whip instead of guiding him, leaving large bruises behind.
I snapped my attention away and managed to turn Heero just in time to keep him from running into another obstacle. His shoulder hit it, though, and he turned slightly away from the center of the course. I let the whip just lightly run down the side of his arm, hoping that he would take the hint and turn just a little, but instead he jumped to the left and ran into the side of a barrier, spinning completely around and landing on his rump.
I came to a stop in front of him. It was bad that he had fallen, as the other boy had yet to fall and was quickly gaining on us, however we still had several yards to our advantage and the last thing we needed to do was panic. My slave was wheezing terribly and I was reminded that it had not been so long ago that he had come to me, half dead with hunger and weak as a kitten. He was pushing himself too hard, and I knew I would have to make him rest soon.
But there was no time for that at present. I could see Heero was jittery as he got to his feet, still facing the wrong way. His face looked lost, as he knew that he was not facing the right direction, but he had not idea what direction he was facing or where to turn. I had to think quickly, how to point him in the right direction with only my whip.
It struck me, then. The rules had said I must use my whip, but not that I must hit him. Quickly, I took the base of the whip and placed it against Heero's chin. He was tense and uncertain as I used it to push his head around, but he allowed his body to follow. When he was facing the right direction, I gave him a sharp smack to the rear and he was off again.
As I had gotten Heero on his feet, Marcel and his boy had actually gotten ahead of us, but Heero was still faster than the struggling boy. We were neck and neck as we approached the finish line, but Heero quickly pulled ahead, finishing a good six feet ahead of the others.
Heero smacked into the barrier full force and was tossed backward, landing on his behind. He sat there for a moment, stunned, his chest heaving, and managed to give me time to reach him before he decided that the race wasn't over. Immediately I pulled the gag out of his mouth and was rewarded by the sound of his gasping breath. He sounded winded, but not hurt. As far as I could see, he would only suffer some minor bruising from hitting the barriers and his fall. Next, I untied his hands. He pulled them to the front and rubbed them. I could see faint lines where he had pulled at the cloth, but nothing more.
I was reaching for his blindfold when I heard the thud that told me the other boy had finished the race. I quickly removed the blindfold and earplugs.
"Stay here a moment," I told him, rising to my feet, " and catch your breath. I'll be back," I said, then turned to the other competitors.