Chapter 6 #2
“Hmph. I’ll give you that. But let me check her breathing. We need to see if she should be taken to the medics.”
It’s Master Séverin who kneels on the ground beside me, who lays his hand on my cheek so gently it astonishes me on some profound level, then he rolls me onto my back.
“Take her head,” he tells Master Erek, who gets down on his knees and pillows my head in his lap.
I’m still gasping for air a bit and my lungs are burning, but it’s not too bad now.
And this whole situation seems almost absurd to me.
I’ve been in the Primal Games so many times, but have never really been injured.
Is this normal? Whatever ‘normal’ means in this realm of the most extreme kink.
I know it states in our contracts that our medical needs will be seen to, but is this what happens when one of us is truly injured?
I’ve never had more than cuts and bruises attended to by other slaves.
A hot bath, some arnica rubbed onto my skin. But a Master doing this?
As Master Séverin peers down into my face, leaning in close, I can’t help but look up at him. The pain is there in his dark eyes, perhaps even more shadowed than I’ve seen them before as he furrows his brows. He touches my cheek again.
“There’s a bruise here, but it’s nothing.”
Then, to my utter shock, he bends lower and presses his ear to my chest, right between my breasts.
I know that he’s listening to me breathe, and I can’t help it when my breathing speeds up, nearly to a pant, because he is touching me.
Because of this odd gentleness. Because this cold, cold man feels…
concern for me. And not simply concern, but perhaps empathy.
It’s like a revelation. The Masters and Mistresses are always so mysterious, even those we serve behind the closed doors of their quarters. We never really know them. But this…this is a man who feels deeply. And perhaps that’s what has made him so cold.
Before I can do anything to stop myself, I raise my arms and clasp them around his neck, and he pulls back, startled, a little angry, I think. But he doesn’t loosen my hold. And as he watches my face, I watch his, and see a thousand shadows pass through his eyes, making mine brim with tears.
Finally, he gives a small shake of his head and asks me, “Can you breathe alright? You may speak.”
“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 stand, 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 the 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. She has a house full of slave Boys in San Francisco, 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, isn’t she a lovely 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, with his long lashes and lush mouth, 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 neuro wheel 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, over and over. He tests my reflexes with the pinwheel, then 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.
He slides his fingers in deeper, then slips them out and replaces them with the speculum.
“Ohhh,” I moan, unable to help myself, nearly coming at the intrusion of the cool, metal object.
He stoops down and uses the flashlight to peer inside me.
“Any pain?” he asks.
“Mmm…only the good kind,” I assure him.
He straightens and smiles a little, then he pulls the speculum partway out before pressing it in again. My hips rise to meet it, and as he begins a slow fucking, pleasure simmers in my system, spreading from my pussy into my stomach, my tits.
My lashes flutter closed and I moan again.
I can’t help myself. When I open my eyes once more, my two beautiful Masters and the lovely Madame Gemma are just inside the door, watching.
Madame Gemma is biting her plush red lip, and I want her to kiss me with that gorgeous mouth. But of course, that won’t ever happen.
In two strides she’s across the room and pinching my nipples in her strong fingers.
“A medicinal orgasm?” she asks my Masters.
“Yes. Have him do it,” Master Séverin answers.
Her Boy fucks me harder, and the damn speculum hurts as he presses deep, but I love it so much. And perhaps even more, I love Madame Gemma’s fingers torturing my nipples, twisting and pulling and pinching, hurting me in the way I crave most at this moment.
As sensation builds, then coils like a serpent in my belly, I see Master Séverin, his gaze locked onto my face, and I meet his dark eyes as I come, harder because of the way he’s looking at me.
Through me. I feel it even as my climax rips through my body, making me shake all over, making me clench down on the hard, metal speculum shoved deep into my cunt. And I fall a little more in love.