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“Yes, Master,” I say, my voice rough with unfamiliar emotion.
Unfamiliar, yes. Perhaps I’ve also become cold from all I’ve felt in my life. And what I seek in slavehood—in part, at least—is not to feel.
“Very good. Let’s get her on her feet, Erek.”
Master Erek helps me to sit up and gives me a bottle of water to sip from. Then he helps me to my feet, one arm around my waist.
Master Séverin shakes his head. “No. I will take her.”
He lifts me into his arms, holding me like a bride being carried over the threshold, and I don’t know what to do with my arms and legs. With the confusion in my mind.
“Hold onto me, Girl,” he commands, and I do, lacing my arms around his neck once more.
He leads the way through the forest, carrying me for what feels like a very long time, and his body is all lean, hard-packed muscle that flexes and shifts when he has to climb up a steep hill. He grows warmer the longer we walk beneath the shade of the oaks and sequoias, and mixed with smell of sunshine on verdant earth, I catch a hint of his sweat, which makes my empty cunt clench and unclench.
Eventually we reach their cabin, where he sets me on my feet on the front porch, and I am strangely disappointed that he didn’t carry me inside.
Over the threshold.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom.
“On the bed, Girl,” he tells me, and I comply, getting on my knees and bowing my head down until it touches the fluffy cloud that is the white down comforter.
“No. Lie down on your back. On the pillows, Girl.”
I’m so confused, but I scramble to do as he asks. As he has ordered.
Yes, that’s better. I’m not seeking the luxury of their big, decadent bed, but simply doing as he’s instructed.
They both stand there, heads together, whispering.
Master Erek says, “I called Madame Gemma. One of her slaves is an EMT. I thought it best that she send him to check on her.”
“Yes, yes. Good,” Master Séverin replies.
I’ve met Madame Gemma. Or, rather, I’ve seen her. She is exquisite and has a house full of slave Boys and a reputation for being utterly evil. But I am apparently not to be tortured by her. Not today, anyway.
Shortly after, I hear a car pull up outside, then a gentle knock on the door before Madame Gemma herself sweeps in, her cherry-red hair cascading over her shoulders, her tight-fitting khaki trousers outlining her lovely form. Behind her is a Boy carrying a leather case.
“Oh, she’s a pretty one,” Madame Gemma says. “I’ve seen her at the Primal Games at the Ranch. She’s truly something to watch. You two are so lucky.”
She turns to her slave. “Boy, see that she is thoroughly examined. Inside and out. That’s a good Boy,” she adds, giving him a pat on the head. “Gentlemen, would your hospitality include some good bourbon, by any chance?”
“Always,” Master Erek replies as they all leave the room.
I am left with this Boy, who is a burly slave with pierced nipples and short brown hair. A handsome face, which is no surprise. Almost too pretty, which I’m told is Madame Gemma’s preference. His naked cock is half-hard, but then, the slave Boys are almost always hard, no matter the circumstances.
He pulls a pinwheel from his leather bag, then a stethoscope, and a small flashlight. He listens to my lungs, asking me to take a breath in, then exhale. He tests my reflexes with the pinwheel, looks into my eyes as he shines the light in them.
“You seem well,” he says. “Do you feel any pain? Does it hurt when you take a deep breath?”
“No. No, I’m fine.”
“Very good. Inside exam next, then.”
I pull my legs up high and spread my knees, and he slides me down to the edge of the bed, then pulls a speculum from the bag and presses two fingers into my cunt, making me instantly wet, this pretty Boy and his medical exam. It’s so fucking hot for me. I only wish the Masters were watching.
