Chapter 6: The kindness mindgame

Present day

When Mariah awoke, she was grateful that Master Jonas had covered her with a blanket while she slept. That seemed an unusual kindness in him. But then she remembered. Master Jonas was years ago. This was the new mindgame.

Animal was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, a pad of paper on his knees. When he saw that she was awake he shook his head. "Your timing's lousy. No one around but me and I'm working."

"My apologies, Master," Mariah said meekly, and then coughed, her throat dry.

Master Animal rolled his eyes and threw his pad onto the floor. "Okay, okay," he grumbled. He stood up, stretched, and ambled out of the room, coming back a moment later with a tray with a glass of water and a bowl on it. "Gabriel says you can feed yourself," he said ungraciously. Mariah managed to sit up, and Animal put the tray on her legs. She tentatively tasted the food in the bowl, relieved that it was just gruel. Master Animal said, "He'll have you on human food soon enough, you'll see. I convinced him that for now you'll eat more if you're not petrified."

Mariah bristled. "I don't get terrified," she said. "This mindgame doesn't scare me."

Master Animal just snorted. He picked up his pad and returned to his place on the floor, ignoring her. After finishing her gruel, Mariah tested her limbs. Her rib area hurt as before, but the pain in the rest of her body was less sharp. The tray on her knees felt heavy, but she knew she could not move it without help. She sighed softly. If Master Animal heard her he gave no sign.

There was a knock at the door, which Master Animal ignored. A moment later Rose tentatively looked in. Taking in the scene, she smiled at Mariah and quietly entered the room. Mariah saw with some remorse that she had a bandage on her leg where she had been cut the day before-or had it been longer ago than that? Mariah didn't know.

Wordlessly Rose took the tray from Mariah and left. She reappeared a few minutes later with a large wooden comb in her hand. Holding the comb up, she raised her eyebrows, silently asking Mariah's permission. Mariah shrugged. Rose took that as assent and settled herself behind Mariah on the bed.

Even though Mariah's hair had been cut short, the combing of what was left was a long and, despite Rose's gentle hands, painful process. When, at last, Rose indicated that she was finished, Mariah glanced over at Master Animal. To her surprise he was looking at the two of them intently while his hand flew over the pad. He scowled at her, but after a moment put the pad down.

"Can I look, Master?" Rose asked softly. Master Animal shrugged and closed his eyes as if he were greatly weary. Rose took the pad from him and brought it back to Mariah's bed to show her.

"It's you!" Mariah said in surprise as she looked at the sketch of the slave girl. Then she added in a squeak, "It's me!" Indeed, the picture showed Rose, serious and gentle, holding Mariah's hair near the roots with one hand and pulling a comb through it with the other. Mariah saw that Master Animal had drawn her own face less bruised than it had been in the mirror the day before, and less swollen, but he had not skimped on the grimace that made her appear all the uglier.

Mariah looked at Master Animal in amazement. He, no longer feigning sleep, smiled at her a little sheepishly, then checked himself and frowned. Mariah almost smiled but she, too, checked herself and frowned.

At that moment Master Gabriel walked in. He looked tired and drawn. "Can I get you something, Master?" Rose asked. Master Gabriel shook his head and flung himself onto the floor next to Animal.

"A woman had whipped a slave he so hard that he went into shock," he said. "She begged me to save his life. As soon as he came to, she started torturing him." He drew up his knees and leaned his head into it. "He could be dead by now," his muffled voice said.

Rose clucked sympathetically, but Master Animal said harshly, "You're exhausted and you're pushing yourself too hard."

"I'm a healer," Master Gabriel snapped. "I don't turn people away."

Master Animal shook his head. "Make humans sign a contract before you'll treat their slaves then," he said. "No torture for a month, or something. That should get them to leave you alone."

Mariah watched this whole scene with amazement. She felt panicked. This mindgame was so strange and so elaborate, she would lose herself in it. She wished, desperately, that she could go to sleep and wake up and find herself someplace that she understood.

Suddenly Master Gabriel was next to her, holding her hand, squeezing it gently. "Breathe," he said. She found her face was wet. She had been crying without realizing it.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said, fiercely.

"I know you're not," Master Gabriel responded. "You're in pain, and it's hard to think straight." He added, "Breathing will help." He seemed to know exactly what Mariah was thinking. Could he read her mind?

Master Animal laughed a little meanly. "Look at her, Gabriel," he said. "The kinder you are to her the more you terrify her." He amended, "Oh yeah, except she doesn't get scared."

Mariah glared at him. Master Animal laughed again, but Master Gabriel shushed him and then started breathing ostentatiously, still holding Mariah's hand. Mariah, without realizing it, found herself imitating him. A deep intake hurt her ribs, and she stopped. Master Gabriel squeezed her hand. "Tomorrow we'll go over the breathing exercises again," he said. "Today I'll tell you a story." And he began to tell her about a land with no slaves, where everyone worked and everyone received what they needed in return, and every child lived with its parents, and every adult chose how to live, and with whom. It was a lovely story, Mariah thought, as her eyes fluttered closed, as good as the stories she remembered from the fields, of wood nymphs and river mermaids.

Mariah remembers

Mariah was running, then fleeing, through a fallow field she did not recognize. She came to a stream and tried to jump it, but her legs wouldn't move properly. She started to put her hands out to break her fall but they, too, were stuck. She awoke with a start, her heart pounding madly. As in her dream her limbs would not obey. They were held - no, tied - down. Panicked, she flailed about until she banged the back of her head on the platform on which she lay, and saw stars.

Through sheer force of will she held herself still, except for the trembling that she could not control. When she could no longer hear her pulse pounding in her ears, she slowly tried to take stock. Her legs were spread wide apart and tied at her ankles, and her wrists shackled near her hips. Other than that, she was not restrained. She raised herself up onto her elbows and looked cautiously around.

She was on a sleeping platform, alone. On either side of her were drab low walls that did not reach the ceiling. Past her feet was a corridor, and beyond it another low wall.

She heard pleading from not far away. A male voice, begging someone to stop whatever they were doing to him. But she didn't hear the slash or cut of a whip.

A mistress walked through the corridor past her, but paid her no mind. A moment later a slave walked by. Mariah cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said, but the slave did not turn his head or slow his pace.

Mariah wondered how long she had been tied to the table, and if she had been left here to die, alone and untended. She had heard about a slave being killed that way a few fields away from her. He had been locked in a cabin without food or water. He died in about five days. Mariah couldn't recall what he was being punished for.

Suddenly she remembered Master Jonas. His malice, as cold as the water he sprayed on her body and then inside it. And his threat to kill her. As she heard the nearby voice, begging, Mariah wondered if it wouldn't be better to provoke Master Jonas into carrying out that threat.

No, a voice from inside Mariah said, I want to live.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. The man's begging rose to a shriek. Vancea had lived through this mindgame and had escaped beyond the walls. But the mindgame had continued even then, Mariah realized. Vancea was certainly dead by now.

"No despair," Mariah told herself fiercely.

She listened for clues as to where she was or what would come next, but now that the pleading had stopped she could hear only murmurs of sound from beyond the low walls. There were conversations whose words she could not make out. Perhaps someone whimpering. At least she was not alone, she told herself.

A slave appeared, rolling a table on wheels in front of him. Wordlessly he stopped in front of Mariah, cranked a lever which raised the back end of her platform up and moved her to a sitting position. He untied her hands and handed her a bowl of lukewarm gruel. As she took it she whispered to him, "Are you allowed to talk?" He looked unsurprised by this question, but shook his head and opened his mouth wide. Inside, his tongue was only a stub.

Mariah's stomach churned at the sight, but the slave put the spoon into her hand as if she were simple and pantomimed that she must eat. She dipped the spoon into the gruel and barely managed to get it into her mouth. She concentrated on not vomiting. Another spoonful, more concentration. She couldn't take a third.

The slave seemed satisfied with her efforts. He gave her a cup of water and indicated that she should drink it. She was parched, and the water helped the gruel settle. The slave retied her arms, leaving her sitting up, and moved on, expressionless.

Mariah looked around but could see nothing beyond the short walls surrounding her, and the ceiling that gave away no secrets. Occasionally slaves or people walked by, but they did not look at her. "They fed me," Mariah told herself several times. "I'll not die today."

Panic gave way to boredom that was even worse. Occasionally Mariah tested the bonds that held her wrists and ankles, but not with any real hope that she could free herself. And even if she could, what would she do?

The wall. If she could get free, could she make it to the wall? Mariah thought of what she knew of the geography of Riviera. It seemed certain that she was still in the mansion. A garrulous mistress had told her once that the mansion wasn't in the dead center of Riviera, but it was still miles upon miles in the closest direction to reach the wall. It had taken the rider a long time to bring her here from the cornfield, and that was closer to the mansion than to the wall.

Yet, it was not all farmland between the mansion and the wall. There were woods and wild places. If she could get to them, could she hide there?

She sighed and shook her head at what she knew was foolishness. Even if she could untie her bonds, she would never make it out of this strange room.

The tongueless slave returned to Mariah twice, each time giving her a bowl of gruel and a cup of water. After the third meal Mariah dozed. Through her sleep she could hear the cart making its way through the aisle. Someone was shaking her arm. She immediately jerked awake. It was an older slave, a female, large and muscular. "Toilet," she said. Mariah saw that she pushed a bucket on wheels with a seat on top, like a portable latrine.

Mariah shook her head. "I'm not allowed," she said.

"Sure you are, honey," the slave said. "Everyone uses the toilet. You don't need special permission for that." She began to untie Mariah's restraints.

Mariah felt her face burn red. "No," she said. "It's a punishment. He said I couldn't for 24 hours."

The woman clucked. "What did you do to deserve that?" she asked.

Mariah said nothing. The woman was just a slave, and Mariah did not have to answer her. She patted Mariah just above her crotch. "Do you have to go something awful?" she asked.

Until that moment, Mariah hadn't. But now she felt that if she didn't pee she would burst.

"I'll tell you what," the woman said. "You just sit up here on the toilet and pretend. It'll make you feel better."

Mariah shrank away from her. "No," she said.

The woman's eyes narrowed but she said pleasantly, "It's the rules, honey. Everyone has to sit on the toilet, whether or not they go. Otherwise, I get punished. That wouldn't be fair, now would it?"

Defeated, Mariah stepped onto the floor, gasping at the stiffness in her muscles, and then onto the toilet platform.

"There, now," the woman said soothingly. "You close your eyes and relax. I'll just tie you here for a minute and come right back."

Mariah didn't react as the woman affixed her ankles to cuffs jutting from the bottom of the toilet box, or when she tied her knees open. But when she took her right hand and put it in a container of warm water, Mariah jerked her hand away, splashing. "What are you doing to me?" she shouted.

The noise brought a mistress over, who frowned at Mariah as she grasped her whip. "What's this racket, Shinelle?" she asked sternly.

The slave woman answered, "This farm cunt won't let me do my job, Mistress. I keep telling her, these are the rules, but she just makes trouble."

The mistress glared at Mariah. "I don't like to punish other's pickings in here," she said, "but if I hear one more sound out of you I'll beat you right back to the fields. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mistress," Mariah said.

As the mistress strode away, Shinelle tied both of Mariah's hands in bowls of warm water, saying softly, "Don't make trouble. You just go along with me, everything will work out fine." Then she walked away.

Mariah felt the need to pee like waves in her body. Her very jaw tingled with the feel of it. She closed her eyes and tried to think of anything else, or to concentrate on the noises echoing around her, but nothing helped.

Suddenly there was a body behind her, and breasts pressing into her back. Hands came around to her front and began patting her pubic hair. Shinelle said in her ear, "Just relax, and neither one of us will be punished."

Mariah felt as if her pee was streaming through her body like blood. Shinelle's hand moved lower, to her clitoris, touching her there. "Please, stop," Mariah begged, trying to close her legs that were tied open. Then Shinelle was licking the inside of Mariah's ear and blowing softly into it. Mariah could stand it no more. With a groan, she let herself pee. She felt as if it would never stop. She did not notice that Shinelle had moved away, taking the bowls of water with her.

When the stream stopped, Mariah opened her eyes. Master Jonas was standing there, hands on his hips, staring at her, his eyes ice.

"Forgive me, Master," Mariah said hopelessly.

Shinelle snorted from behind her. "Now she begs for forgiveness, Master," she said. "You should have heard her a few minutes ago begging me to let her pee. I told her no, but a mistress came over and told me to let her do it just to shut her up."

"No," Mariah whispered. "That's not true."

"Shut up, scum," her Master said. He turned to the slave woman. "Tell me, Shinelle, you see these field cunts come and go. How would you punish her?"

Shinelle smiled in satisfaction. "This one is no better than an animal, Master," she said. "I say no point in having a master like yourself break her in. Give her to a dog."

Master Jonas actually laughed. "You are a delight," he said. "Bring Spot to me." Shinelle dropped to the floor and touched her forehead all the way down before she stood and ran down the corridor.

"Master, I'm sorry," Mariah pleaded.

Without warning Master Jonas punched her in her left breast, so hard that Mariah would have tumbled backwards off the latrine seat if not for the ropes that bound her to it. "No talking," he said. He moved behind her and began to touch her, on her back, on her shoulders, on her breasts, on her stomach, on her thighs. His touch was gentle and yet aggressive. Mariah hated it. She concentrated on not moving. Her body felt hot, as if she was in a sweatbox.

It seemed like an eternity later when Shinelle came down the corridor leading on a leash a crawling old slave. Mariah could smell him before she got a good look at him. Layers of dirt covered his wiry limbs. His long gray hair and beard were matted as if he hadn't been groomed for years. His eyes were cloudy. He looked up at Master Jonas and barked.

Horrified, Mariah leaned away from him, and into Master Jonas. What had they done to him?

Master Jonas untied Mariah. "On the floor," he told her. Mariah dove down and lay on her stomach. With his foot Master Jonas rolled Mariah over onto her back. "Bring a cushion," he ordered Shinelle. Then he turned back to Mariah.

"Shinelle is right, you deserve to be broken in by a dog," Master Jonas said to Mariah.

"Yes, master," Mariah said.

Master Jonas kicked her in the side with his boot, just hard enough to make her gasp. "No talking," he repeated. He glowered over her to see if she would groan or move. When she lay perfectly still, he continued, "Unfortunately, since you haven't been fully tested, I can't punish you as you deserve, yet."

Shinelle returned then with a cushion, which Master Jonas indicated she should put under Mariah's head. "Bend your knees and open them," he said to Mariah. She obeyed immediately.

"Have you ever seen a hard penis?" he asked Mariah.

Mariah remembered a mistress tormenting one of the slave boys in the room where Master Jonas had found her. She nodded her head.

"Good," Master Jonas said. "Have you ever seen a man and woman touch each other, to take pleasure in each other?"

"No, master," Mariah pleaded. "I've been good, I swear."

Master Jonas kicked her again. "I know you," he said. "You've never been good." He continued, "You have shown you are nothing more than an animal. Your first experience of pleasure will be when this dog comes in your mouth." He snapped his finger and pointed at Mariah's face. Spot crawled over to her and put his knees outside her shoulders. The stench was overwhelming. Mariah wanted to throw up, but she was afraid to turn her head.

Master Jonas said to her, "You will put your mouth around Spot's penis. You will caress it and suck on it. If you obey, your punishment will be over. If you bite him or do anything to make him pull back, I'll kill you on a cross. Do you understand?"

Mariah nodded frantically. "Yes, master," she said.

"Good," Master Jonas said. He nudged Spot forward an inch or two. "Put your mouth around its penis, gently."

Mariah obeyed, willing herself not to gag or disobey in any way. She glanced into Spot's eyes and saw only emptiness there. For a moment her pity for him overwhelmed her disgust.

Suddenly, two things happened at once. Spot's penis began to widen and elongate in her mouth, almost choking her, and she felt something wet and warm, a tongue, on her own sex, licking her slowly. Frantically she jerked her head back, but reminded herself fiercely that she wanted to live. She lifted her mouth back to Spot's penis, hoping her master had not noticed.

Spot whimpered and leaned over onto his elbows. He jutted his hips back and forth, forcing his penis deeper into her mouth. Mariah's nose was pressed against his belly and she felt that she would suffocate, until she learned to gasp for breath when he pulled back to begin a deeper thrust. "That's it," she heard Master Jonas say. "Suck on it."

Moving her lips around her teeth so she wouldn't bite Spot's penis, Mariah sucked, still fighting for every breath. It seemed to go on and on. Her jaw ached with the effort of keeping her mouth wide enough. She tried to pretend this was not happening to her, that she was still back on the farm with her cohort, that she was young and innocent, that she had never met Vancea, but the licking of her sex was interrupted by a bite there, which jolted her back into this reality. She in turn bit Spot, but not so hard that his pleasure was interrupted.
Suddenly there was wet goo in the back of her mouth, like thin gruel. Mariah choked and sputtered as Spot went soft inside her. "Swallow it," Master Jonas ordered. She did her best, still keeping her mouth wide so as not to injure Spot's softening organ, which he did not seem inclined to remove from her mouth. Finally he pulled out, and looked expectantly at Master Jonas. Master Jonas patted the top of his head. "Good boy," he said. He put his foot under Shinelle's throat, pulling her head away from Mariah's sex. "I knew you could obey if you tried," Master Jonas said to Mariah. "Thank me for teaching you that."

"Thank you, Master," Mariah said. Spot barked, but just before Shinelle led him away he looked at Mariah and one of his eyes slowly closed and opened.

Present day

The next morning, Master Gabriel taught Mariah more breathing exercises, and movements to strengthen her injured arm. Mariah was exhausted afterwards and fell asleep for several hours. When she awoke, Rose was sitting cross-legged on the floor, shelling a large pile of peas. With a quiet smile she cleaned up, and then offered to help Mariah take a bath.

Mariah did not admit to Rose that, except for the old metal tub in the cornfield, filled by bucket, she had never taken a bath before. Most humans would require that their houseslaves take a very quick shower periodically, but a bath was a luxury for favored pets.

Rose filled the tub and Mariah stepped in and sank down into the water. Its warmth stung her cuts at first, but she ignored the discomfort, soaping every inch she could reach, and, to protect her elbow, allowing Rose to wash and rinse her hair. Mariah realized that the atrocious itchiness she been suffering was not just her wounds healing, but the filth that covered her body. The bathwater was gray. Rose giggled, drained and refilled the bath, and they started the process over. Mariah's skin, in those places where it was neither bruised nor cut, had a pinkish tinge.

Rose, sitting on the edge of the tub with her feet in the water, started to wash Mariah's upper back with a soft washcloth. Mariah closed her eyes, enjoying the pleasant, relaxing sensation. Suddenly she started and in a quick movement pivoted and grabbed Rose's wrist. She stared at her, hard. "What have they done to me?" she demanded.

"N... nothing," said Rose. "Th. . . They saved your life."

Mariah narrowed her eyes. "What are they saving me for?" she asked. She leaned toward Rose. "Why don't I want to fuck you?"

"I don't know," Rose said. "I'm just a rag."

Mariah loosened her hold on Rose's wrist but did not let go. "That's not what I meant," she said. "The way you were washing me . . . I should be burning. But I'm not. Not for you. Not for Master Gabriel or Master Animal. It's like I woke up and I'm back on the farm, not broken in." She placed her hands deliberately on Rose's knees and pushed them apart, and looked at her crotch. "And you're not even wet," she said.

Rose looked nervously at Mariah's hands, still on her knees, but didn't remove them. "It's the gruel," she said softly.

"The gruel?" Mariah asked. "Master Animal told me that you don't even eat it."

"I don't, mostly." Rose said. "And neither did you, when you were unconscious. You've only been back on it for a few days, and you're not eating much. Not enough to make you burn."

Mariah thought about this. Of course she had known for a long time that it was the gruel that made slaves crave sex, sometimes to the exclusion of all other cravings. It would make sense that if she stopped eating it those urges would go away.

Mariah took her hands off her knees. "Are you dried up?" Mariah asked her.

Rose didn't answer for a minute. "In a way," she said at last. "I don't look at a cucumber anymore and wish I dared to put it inside me, to get some relief. And I don't cry because maybe I'll never be allowed to come again. But when I think about having sex with Master Animal . . ." She blushed. "I'm not dried up, no."

"Does he fuck you?" Mariah asked. "Or is he too much of a pansy for that?"

"Every night,' Rose said solemnly. "We both come once and then he goes to sleep."

"You come every night?" Mariah asked disbelievingly.

Rose nodded. "Sometimes he eats me," she said.

Mariah stared at her in open astonishment. Master Animal must have unnatural feelings for Rose.

She remembered the promise she had made to herself, to spread the truth among as many slaves as she could, to start with Rose, to curdle Master Animal's sweet cream. How much more effective it would be if he thought he cared for her. As Mariah started to stand up, she said, "I want to tell you something."

Rose tsked softly. "First we'll dry you off and get you into bed," she said. "Master Gabriel says that even little things will wear you out." Rose's voice was gentle and sweet as ever, but there was a firmness in it that made Mariah obey. She didn't protest as Rose toweled her dry and led her back to the bed. Once Rose was satisfied that Mariah was well-settled, she began combing out her hair again, and said, "What did you want to tell me?"

Mariah said nothing for a time. Was Rose part of the mindgame? Would she repeat every word Mariah said to her masters? Almost certainly. The girl had no spirit with which to rebel or to refuse to be used against her own kind. Nevertheless, Mariah had to try to reach her, to spoil her for her master. The worst that would happen is that the mindgame would end sooner.

Mariah tried to remember what Vancea had told her, so long ago, when she hadn't wanted to hear it. Was there ever a time when she was as young and naive as Rose was now? She took a breath, calming herself. "Did they tell you why I was being punished?" she asked.

"Shsh," Rose said. "We don't need to talk about that."

Mariah yanked her hair out of Rose's grasp and turned to look at her. "Answer me," she said fiercely. "Did they tell you?"

Rose pulled back, her fearful look returning. "Yes," she said, not meeting Mariah's eyes.

Mariah leaned closer to Rose. "It was because I was outside the gates. I escaped, and I was free."

"I know," Rose whispered, trembling.

Mariah grabbed Roses' bicep with her good hand. "Whatever they told you about me, it was a lie," she said. "I was free!"

"I know," Rose whispered again.

Mariah went in for the kill. "You could escape, too," she said. "You could be free."

A derisive snort came from the doorway. "Free to die," Animal said. "Free to starve to death while you ponder which berries are poison. Free to bleed to death when you fall from a tree you climbed to escape the packs of wolves. Free to contract dysentery from drinking the wrong water. And," he added, entering the room, "That's assuming you beat the seven hours it took the sage Mariah to get caught by the hunters so they could exquisitely torture her."

Mariah flung Rose away from her, trembling with rage. "It is no worse to be tortured in the field by the hunters for a few days than to be tortured every day in the mansion, from one mindgame to another! The difference in lifespan is only a few years."

To Mariah's chagrin, Animal laughed. "I doubt you'll find a convert in Rose," he said. "She has sense enough to know when she's well off."

Mariah looked over at Rose, who sat at the head of the bed, her back to the wall, frozen. Mariah jeered at her, "So you've found yourself a pansy master who can't be bothered to whip you. How long do you think he'll keep you? A few more months, if you're lucky? And then it'll be back to the exchange. Do you think your next master or mistress will be as kind? Or will you get someone who likes the ones who cry easily?"

As if on cue Rose's eyes filled with tears and Mariah turned to give Animal a triumphant look. She stopped cold when she saw the whip in his hand, his arm raised. Then she said, "Go ahead. Show Rose what a kind, merciful master you are."

Animal lowered his arm. "Go fix dinner, Rose," he said, not taking his eyes off Mariah.

Rose was crying in earnest now. "Please, Master, don't hurt her," she pleaded as she stood to obey his order.

"Hush," Animal said. "I won't." Rose stumbled from the room. Animal continued to look disdainfully at Mariah for a few moments, before he turned and followed Rose out of the room, firmly closing the door behind him.

Mariah remembers

Master Jonas tied Mariah back into her sleeping ledge and left her. Thoughts roiled in her mind. Was this the mindgame Vancea had told her of? It was clear to her that Shinelle had set her up, and, worse, taken pleasure in her degradation.

And Spot? What had been done to him? Was there anything left of his mind? She was sure of it. He had winked at her. Somehow, despite everything, he had retained something of himself. He was playing his own mindgame?

It had been scary when Spot was inside her mouth. She had not been sure whether she would suffocate, whether she was supposed to suffocate. The ticklish pleasure from Shinelle licking her had added to her torture.

And for what reason? "To humiliate me," Mariah thought. "And yet, I am not humiliated. I did nothing wrong." She thought of her cohort torturing the rabbit. She had stood up to them, stood against her friends, because what they were doing was wrong, and cruel, and needless.

She was the rabbit to Master Jonas, she realized, a victim to be tortured to pass the time. And she knew that he could easily turn her into a torturer. She had hurt other slaves at the command of the field masters and mistresses. Put them in a stockade, pulled out their hair a few hairs at a time, once even beaten a boy with a stick. But not by choice. Never by choice. She would never be the one to hold the rabbit over the fire, or to idly stand by as others did it. Not by choice. And while she would no doubt be forced in the future to torture other slaves, she would never take a perverse pleasure in it like Shinelle clearly did.

Mariah swore to herself: whatever Master Jonas would do to her body, no matter how he tortured her or made her cry or shriek or beg, no matter if he forced her to torture other slaves, for her it would never be by choice. Like Spot, she would play her own mindgame.

Present day

Mariah was not left alone with Rose any more. She told herself her disappointment was because of the missed opportunity to proselytize freedom. She still slept more than she woke. When she was awake she meticulously did the breathing and strengthening exercises Master Gabriel had taught her. Her arm was almost pain-free. Although the exercises hurt, she could feel herself getting stronger, mindgame or no.

One morning Master Gabriel watched her, occasionally correcting an angle or encouraging her to do more. When she finished, Gabriel casually asked her if she would like to go for a walk. Mariah was surprised by her own eagerness.

She leaned on Master Gabriel for support, staggering. Crossing the threshold into the living room, she felt an echo of the same surge of joy she had felt when she had stepped through the gate in the wall, to freedom. It seemed so long ago now, but it couldn't have been more than a few weeks.

Master Animal lay sprawled on a couch, pretending disinterest, while Rose, assiduously massaging his feet, only glanced up with a shy smile before looking away. Mariah let go of Master Gabriel and took a few steps on her own before she stumbled and had to grab at his arm. If the others noticed her gasp of pain, they gave no sign.

Master Gabriel led her to a strange chair with wheels instead of legs. He said off-handedly, "I thought it would be more fun for you to walk outside and get some fresh air. I can wheel you through the corridors so you don't get worn out." Mariah sank into the chair. Master Gabriel stood behind and pushed.

A few minutes later they were on the landing of the nearest exit to the lawn. Mariah stood and turned her face to the sun, soaking it up. When she glanced at Master Gabriel he was staring at her. He blinked, and shook his head. After he put the wheelchair aside, he helped her down the handful of steps to the ground level. Six or seven humans were coming up the walkway towards them, laughing carelessly. A few had slaveboys on leashes.

"Gabriel!" one of them shouted. "Come entertain us!"

"Is that your housegirl?" a mistress with honey-colored hair asked, looking Mariah over with a surprised frown. "You can do so much better than her."

Mariah let go of her grip on Master Gabriel and started to fall to her knees. Master Gabriel stopped her with a hand under her arm, and gently pulled her back up. "This is Mariah," he said.

The mistress came forward and looked her up and down. "Standard position," she ordered.

Mariah automatically obeyed her command, raising her hands to the back of her neck. Shooting pain went through her chest as she did so, and she gasped, and stumbled. The mistress raised her whip and flicked it on Mariah's buttocks. Although the blow wasn't hard, it caused Mariah to fall forward onto her knee, bang it painfully.

"Stop it!" Master Gabriel shouted. "Leave her alone!"

The mistress flipped her hair at Master Gabriel coquettishly. "Don't tell me you're under her spell," she said. "She's nothing but a rag." Mariah felt her face turn pink.

One of the mistress's companions said, "Not a rag, Darla. A rescued runaway. Didn't you hear? Gabriel plucked her off a cross." He smirked.

Master Gabriel tried to place himself between Mariah and the group, but Mariah stood up, painfully, on her own. She looked into the eyes of a leashed slaveboy. "That's right," she said. "I escaped through the wall and I was free. That's why they punished me." She paused and added, "It was worth it."

As one, the group of humans raised their whips. The man who had spoken, who was closest to her, growled, "You filthy cunt," and kicked her, hard, in the shin. Mariah fell, landing on her bad arm, and cried out.

Master Gabriel pushed the master away. "Leave her alone, I tell you," he said, his voice low and calm. The man backed away when he saw Master Gabriel's eyes. "No harm done," he said, and headed inside, followed by the rest of the group. One of the slaveboys looked at Mariah as he crawled by. "Eyes down!" his mistress shouted furiously, slashing at his butt with her whip. He shuddered and lowered his eyes, but when his mistress walked ahead he turned his head and looked at Mariah again before hurrying to catch up.

Master Gabriel knelt down by her. "I'm so sorry," he said. "Are you okay?" Mariah refused to look at him, embarrassed by the stinging in her eyes. Master Gabriel took her good hand. "Breathe," he said. Mariah complied, breathing as deeply as her injured ribs would let her, until she felt the new pain was under control. Gabriel was still holding her hand. "You have so much courage you put everyone I know to shame," he said. Then he added, pulling a strand of hair off her face, "But maybe you could keep the outreach to other slaves down until you're a little stronger."

Mariah jerked away from his touch and said bitterly, "You won't let me talk to Rose, Master. I need to reach out where I can."

Master Gabriel looked at her in confusion. "Won't let you... You can say what you like to Rose, you must know that."

Now it was Mariah's turn to be confused. "You mean they didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Master Gabriel asked.

"About the other day... What I said to Rose. And to Master Animal." When Gabriel shook his head, she added, "But you've kept her away from me since then."

Master Gabriel took her hand and said, "Rose and Animal have been running themselves ragged getting the revel room ready so he can start his mural." He added, almost petulantly, "If you wanted to see her, you only needed to ask."

Mariah looked him in the eye, trying to read him, to decipher him. It seemed such a specific lie to tell. Was it part of the mindgame? Or an odd, coincidental truth?

Master Gabriel smiled ruefully. "What would happen if you trusted me?" he asked.

"Torture," Mariah answered automatically. "Pain. Death."

"Then by all means, don't trust me," Master Gabriel said. He stood up. "You landed on your arm. Does it hurt?"

Mariah nodded and Master Gabriel sighed. He helped her to the wheelchair and started to push her back to the apartment. "Maybe Animal can suggest a private place for a walk tomorrow," he said.

Mariah remembers

The mute slave untied Mariah and indicated that she should stand. He put his hands behind his neck, with his elbows out, then pointed to Mariah. When Mariah merely blinked he repeated the process, this time jabbing his finger at her. Mariah understood this time and put her own hands behind her neck. The slave beckoned her to follow him.

As they walked through the room Mariah caught glimpses of other slaves tied to platforms as she had been, all about the same age as she. At the end of the corridor the mute turned her and led her to a door which, to Mariah's surprise, opened to outside. The sun stabbed at her eyes.

She was in a courtyard. A number of slaves trudged in a circle around the perimeter, like her holding their hands behind their necks, their elbow pointing out. With a gentle shove, the mute indicated that Mariah should do the same, and then he left her.

"Mariah?" A girl from Mariah's cohort who had been taken away a few days before Mariah, was hurrying towards her.

Suddenly a guard pushed the girl to the ground and began whipping her back. "Keep walking!" the guard shouted at the other slaves as she continued to beat the girl. "And no talking!" Mariah was half-tempted to stop, to try to intervene, but another slave purposefully stepped on her foot. He shook his head at her and then walked away.

The guard eventually allowed the girl to get up, and she walked in a circle on the opposite side of Mariah. They continued for nearly an hour. Mariah's feet were aching, as were her shoulders and arms. She was relieved when the mute slave finally brought her back inside and indicated that she could lower her arms. "Thank you," Mariah said very softly. He nodded slightly, tied her to her table, and was gone.

The walk in the courtyard was repeated twice a day for several days. Each time, the pain in Mariah's arms became less. But as that ache went away, Mariah began to feel embarrassed. She imagined that the other slaves were staring at her breasts, which jutted out, or at her crotch, and she found herself staring at them in turn.

There was a tingling sensation in her pussy, sort of like having to pee, but constant and getting worse. She longed to rub herself there. In the courtyard lowering her arms would result in an immediate thrashing. In her cubicle she was always bound in such a way that she could not reach that area, and her legs were tied apart.

At last Master Jonas returned. Without a word to her, he placed his hand on her inner thigh, tied open as always. Then he put the index finger of his other hand at the entrance to her pussy and pushed it in slightly. He pulled it out, looked at it, and frowned. "Are you eating?" he asked her.

"Yes, Master," Mariah answered.

"Well, not enough. You need to eat more," he said, and left.

At her next meal the mute slave handed her a larger portion than before, and hovered near her to make sure that she ate it all.

Over the next days the tingling in Mariah's crotch grew worse. When she was awake she thought of ways to escape her bonds so that she could touch herself. When she slept she dreamed of doing so. When Shinelle came with the portable latrine Mariah remembered how Shinelle had licked her crotch when Spot's penis had been in her mouth. The tingling grew to a burning. Mariah could not bear to look at Shinelle.
Master Jonas returned, and as before pushed his index finger into her pussy. This time he looked pleased. "Soon you'll be ripe enough," he said, before he walked away. For what? Mariah wondered, but was distracted by how Master Jonas' touch made her burn even more than before.

Present day

The next morning Master Gabriel wheeled Mariah to the lawn, through a different entrance than the one they had used before. It was early enough that the lawn was mostly deserted. As Master Gabriel pushed Mariah's chair on a paved walk parallel to the mansion, she tilted her head up to feel the sun on her face. When Master Gabriel stopped and helped Mariah out of the wheelchair the grass was cool and soft beneath her feet.

She walked a short way with Master Gabriel. He came to a sudden stop, staring at the ground. He bent over and picked something green. Turning to Mariah he said, "Do you know what this is?"

"Clover, my lord," said Mariah, expressionless.

Gabriel shook his head. "Clover is a darker green than this, and less stringy. This is sorrel." Mariah mouthed the strange word. "It's delicious," Gabriel added, putting a couple of its tiny leaves in his mouth. He handed some to Mariah. "Try it."

Mariah took a step back from him, her lips clamped closed as if she thought he would force her mouth open.

Master Gabriel looked at her appraisingly. "What Animal told you the other day was true," he said. "You can't survive outside of Riviera on your own. Not unless you know how to take care of yourself. How to recognize food. How to build a fire. How to trap animals, and skin and cook them. You would starve to death in a week if you don't know these things."

"You told me Master Animal didn't tell you what he said, Master," Mariah said, almost triumphantly.

Master Gabriel rolled his eyes. "He told me last night, when I asked him," he said. "And he was right. It would be suicide for you to try to live out there right now."

"What are you saying, Master?" Mariah asked. "That you'll teach me what I need to know to run away, and then drop me off five miles outside the gate and leave me on my own?"

Gabriel smiled sadly. "I don't know," he said. "Even I couldn't survive on my own for long without provisions and a good horse with a lot of sense. No matter how much I teach you, if I just dropped you off it would be murder. But if I assume that if you get a chance to run away you'll take it, then I have a responsibility to teach you what I can."

The mindgame rushed in at Mariah, creating a feeling of vertigo that was beginning to seem normal to her. She remembered what Master Animal had said to her when she had first woken up. Playing the mindgame through to the end gave her a chance. She tentatively looked at the sorrel, sniffed it, tore off half a leaf and put it in her mouth. She puckered up and spit it out. "It's sour!" she said accusingly.

Master Gabriel smiled. "Your taste buds are weak from that bland gruel you eat," he said. "Rose could cure you of that. She's an excellent cook."

"I can cook, Master," Mariah said defensively.

"Aah, but can you eat?" Master Gabriel said. "Rose isn't afraid to eat her own cooking. Are you?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Mariah said fiercely. She broke off three sorrel leaves with her fingernail and popped them in her mouth. Why was Master Gabriel grinning?

Mariah remembers

The next time Master Jonas came to see Mariah he set a bottle on her sleeping ledge and then looked at her for a while without speaking. Finally he took one of her pinioned hands in his. "Do you hate me?" he asked her softly.

With all her heart. "No, Master, I only want to please you," Mariah whispered.

"Shsh," Master Jonas said. "It's good that you hate me. It will make my victory more complete." He unlocked the cuff that held her wrist, and stroked her hand. He put his other hand on her breast, resting it there lightly. Mariah willed herself not to draw away from his touch. Then he began to gently stroke her breast with his fingertips. Suddenly she had to will herself not to lean into his touch instead.

Master Jonas spoke quietly, almost dreamily, as he continued to fondle her. "Sometimes there is a mix-up among the babies," he said. "Human babies are switched with slave babies, and brought up by accident as slaves, on the farm. This factory is the last test." And then he was touching her nipple, gradually squeezing it between his fingers. It almost hurt but Mariah's clitoris sprang awake. A tiny sound escaped her.

Master Jonas smiled, and moved his hand to her other breast. "You see, Mariah," he said, "a human being would have the dignity and the strength of character to resist temptation. But slaves are sluts who care only about their own pleasure." He looked at her and tilted his head as if considering her. "Which do you think you are?"

For a brief moment Mariah forgot her body's urges as hope flared in her: she was indeed a human being, switched at birth. Her life had been a mistake. She should have been raised in the mansion, by parents, not on the farm. But she realized immediately that this was the mindgame Vancea had spoken of. She also realized that Master Jonas must be made to think that she believed him, or things would go much worse for her. "I don't know, Master," she said.

Master Jonas smiled. "Then we must find out, my dear," he said. "The test is this: If you can go for a single hour without coming, you will pass the test and be declared a human being. But if you have come, you are declared for all time to be a dirty slave slut. Do you understand?"

"No, Master," Mariah said. "Come where?"

"Coming means having an orgasm," Master Jonas said. When Mariah continued to look at him blankly he said, "What Spot did in your mouth," Mariah was still confused. She didn't have a penis. How could she do that, or want it?

Master Jonas removed his hand from Mariah's breast. He untied her legs and her other hand. "I want you to turn over on your back and relax." Mariah thought briefly about fleeing. Even though Master Jonas would catch her immediately, he would take time to tie her down and to punish her. That would run the clock. But she dismissed the idea; mindgames didn't work that way. She turned over onto her stomach, with her head turned so she was facing Master Jonas.

He picked up the bottle he had placed on her sleeping ledge and poured something into his hands. "Oil," he said. He rubbed his hands together. He moved Mariah's hair off her shoulders and began to massage the triangles next to her neck.

It didn't make her burn, like when he had touched her breasts. Instead, it made her feel peaceful and trusting. No! Mariah willed herself to fight him, clenching her muscles. Master Jonas squeezed her muscles painfully. "I told you to relax. Disobedience won't help you." Mariah continued to clench. He squeezed harder, causing a shooting pain in her head. "Will you obey?" he asked. Harder again. The pain was unbearable.

Mariah couldn't think. "Mercy, please, mercy."

"You will obey?" Master Jonas didn't let up.

"Yes, Master. I'll do whatever you say. Please, stop."

Master Jonas softened his grip. He went back to massaging Mariah gently, soothing the flesh he had just tortured. "Good girl," he said softly. "You can't resist me." He poured more oil onto her shoulders, rubbing gently in deep circles, moving slowly lower. "Just notice the sensation. Where do you feel my hands?"

Mariah didn't understand what he was asking. "On my back, Master."

Master Jonas moved his hands lower, adding more oil. Suddenly he focused on a particular spot in the middle of her back. Mariah cried out, her muscles spasming, and then suddenly relaxing into soft mud.

"That's it. Good girl," Master Jonas said. Mariah was mortified by this betrayal by her own body, and that Master Jonas seemed to know it better than she did. He slowly moved his hands down her spine, inch by inch. He pressed his fists gently into her lower back. Moving lower still, he massaged both cheeks of her bottom, carefully oiling it all over. He slid a slippery finger into her crack and then into her asshole, not too fast and not too hard. Mariah whimpered. "Shsh," Master Jonas said. "That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, Master," Mariah whispered. Master Jonas pulled his finger out and went back to massaging her bottom cheeks, his thumbs between them and his fingers outside. He moved down her left leg, covering it inch by inch with oil and his massaging hands. Then he returned to her bottom, rubbing it, putting a finger in her asshole, this time a little deeper. Mariah couldn't help it; she whimpered again. It felt so, so good. Her whole body tingled. She hated that he could give her such pleasure and yet she didn't want him to stop. She raised her butt off the table, hoping to draw his fingers lower. Instead, he drew his hand away and massaged her right leg, all the way to her toes. It felt good, but Mariah wanted him back where he had been.

"Turn over," Master Jonas ordered her in a soft, husky voice. Mariah hastened to comply. He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Slowly," he said, and he helped her turn onto her back and respread her legs. Then, for what seemed like a long time to Mariah, he simply looked her in the eye, not touching her. Mariah was afraid to look away, but also afraid that if she didn't she would get lost in him. It was hard to remember that she hated him, and why.

Almost imperceptibly Master Jonas moved his head towards hers and touched his lips to hers, opening her mouth his tongue, touching her tongue with it. Mariah closed her eyes. He didn't seem to mind. He continued to kiss her, moving his hands to her neck and his mouth to her ear where he licked her and then blew gently. His hands found her breasts again. Mariah heard a noise and realized it was herself, moaning.

"Where do you feel me now?" Master Jonas whispered in her ear.

Mariah opened her eyes. "Everywhere," she said.

"Here?" Master Jonas asked, gently cupping his hand where her pubic hair grew. She could only nod.

Master Jonas returned his hand to Mariah's breast, then placed his lips over her nipple, sucking. With his other hand, Master Jonas slowly rubbed her all the way down her belly, to her pubic bone. Mariah groaned out loud, over and over.

Master Jonas placed his forefinger at the entrance to her pussy, but did not push in. Rather, he moved his finger up her slit, slowly, stopping before he touched her clitoris, and then back down to her pussy. He repeated this action, over and over. Mariah's sex place was soaking, as if she had peed. She didn't care. She just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing.

Slowly Master Jonas moved his finger back up towards her clitoris, and stopped without touching it. Not able to help herself, Mariah raised her hips, seeking contact. Master Jonas moved his hand away. He lifted his lips from her breast. "Beg me for it," he said.

In the corner of her mind that was able to retain control, to think rationally, Mariah thought of fighting. But she knew this was the mindgame. She had to play it through to the end. "Please, Master," she said. "Please."

Master Jonas returned to toying with her slit. "Beg me to make you come," he said. "Beg me to prove that you are a slave." His finger came slowly up her slit, again stopping before her clitoris.

"I beg you, Master," Mariah said. "Make me come. Prove I am a slave." With her left hand, Mariah crossed her fingers.

Slowly, Master Jonas moved his finger away from her clitoris and into the entrance of her vagina, not very deeply, and vibrated it there. Then he took it back up the slippery path of her slit, and kept going, circling around her hard button, closer and closer to the center, until finally he was circling on top of her clitoris itself. A convulsion shook Mariah, wave after wave, threatening to drown her in pleasure. Dimly she heard Master Jonas laugh, and felt him push his finger all the way into her pussy, which spasmed around it. It hurt, but the pleasure was overwhelming, like a dream of freedom.