Chapter 18 #3
I stopped, mouth slightly open, the cane balanced an inch or two away from my lips. I felt my tongue start to water, my body preparing for what I had been doing these last two weeks.
But I knew that cane wouldn’t orgasm. I knew there would be no semen coming out of it. It was safer than they were.
“Did you know there is such a thing as being too obedient?” he asked, nearing me, his steps silent, his cane still.
The only reason I even knew he was moving was because the weight of his gaze had changed. He was looking into me now. Through me. He was inside my head, and I was glad for it.
“You’re not hard to read. They all made it seem so…
impossible,” he said to himself. “‘Touching isn’t allowed from either parties,’” he recited.
“‘Never touching, only looking.’” He inhaled.
“You should be relieved,” he told me this time.
“I don’t like touch. So many germs, so very little time.
I’m cleansing the world, you see. I can’t cleanse it if I am as unclean as they are. ”
Like me.
Because I was unclean. Impure. Soiled. I ruined everything.
“Cane. Forehead. Now.”
I lifted the cane without thought, placing it right in the center of my forehead, my mouth closing, the drool that had pooled on my tongue falling slowly down my throat.
“My brothers and sisters like doing their research as their assignments play out, but I don’t. I like researching everything beforehand, and you, dear little sinner, have had a very tragic life.”
Have I? I thought this was normal, but the way he said tragic sounded more like a pout than anything else. Not pity, not anything other than ‘your life was terrible and that is terrible for you, but I don’t actually care’.
I found a sort of comfort in that.
“One of the first to be born in the church since it was founded. Cane to your stomach,” he instructed.
I moved the cane to my stomach, hearing my life story as if it were nothing. Because it was nothing.
“Mother training you to be the perfect little follower until her untimely passing when you were 12, but lucky for you, you had already been betrothed to Thomas by that point. Betrothed at 9.” Another uncaring pout. Mocking, I would say. “The Leaders of the church took a liking to you, didn’t they?”
Yes, they had.
All of them.
Including the Pillars.
I should have fought harder. I should have been braver. I should have run.
“You were proclaimed a Favorite for a long time, but now? Now you just are. Cane to chest.”
I slid the cane up to my chest, the pain from the lashings causing my muscles to tighten. I tried to keep them clean the best I could, but it was so much harder when I was tired.
Luckily for me, Thomas had put me in a long-sleeved black lace shirt that had a high collar. It was the only thing between the leather corset and my skin, but I think it was his way of hiding the wounds on my chest from Azrael.
“A very special Favorite, the Chosen One, I’ve heard.” He was quiet. “Trace the cane over your injury.”
I felt myself swallow against my will, my eyes burning. Nobody knew of the injuries except for Thomas and his father, I assumed. But Azrael was like me, he even said as much. He saw everything, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that he saw that.
I carefully lifted the cane just enough to ease the pressure from my body and started to trace out the lashings Thomas had left on me.
There was never any pressure from the other side, but I knew he was holding it. I could feel it. Feel his hand wrapped around the other end, feel his warm gaze grow slightly chilling as I continued to trace.
When I was done, I lifted the cane back to my chest, unsure what he wanted me to do with it afterwards.
“Well, deary me, whatever shall I do?” he sighed, making a show of it. He slid into silence, and I could almost hear his mind working, feel his eyes trained on my ribs, watching, thinking.
After a minute passed, I felt the cane shift.
“What other rules will you bend and break?” he asked, that lilt and warmth back.
“Posing is easy, so let’s push some boundaries, hmm?
The unspoken motto of this church is ‘Purity’.
They all believe in it. If you’re touched, if you’re taken by a man that is not your betrothed or taken before you marry, if you speak or make eye contact to or with anyone, then you’ve become damaged goods.
Obedience is key to this lifestyle, but more so within the women and children.
“I like some obedience but not too much, what I don’t like is when my obedient little pets obey others. Contradictions, however, are my ‘pet peeves’ as they say. So, let’s make up another rule, hmm? Just for the little sinner and the Devil’s ghost that haunts this church.”
I hadn’t moved a millimeter, but my ears, which had been hearing nothing but roaring these last couple of weeks, were hanging onto every single word that fell from his lips. It was the only thing I could hear now.
Just him. Just Azrael.
“They can’t see us,” he reminded me. “They can’t hear us. In this room, you are mine, do you understand me? You will do what I say, when I say, how I say. No matter what their rules are.”
Again, my dead heart pounded once, as if the stone around it were slowly cracking.
He moved forward just enough to adjust the cane. “They take your silence as understanding, but I’m going to need something more. They stole your voice from you so let’s make a new one.” He paused. “Tap your finger. Once for yes, understood?”
My heart was beating in my ears now. I wasn’t allowed to respond. I wasn’t allowed to do anything but act like this.
He knew the rules, he understood this.
“Games are not fun, my little sinning doll, unless I am playing them. Do not make me repeat myself to you.”
I felt myself swallow again, a sweat breaking out across my brow, my muscles in my stomach tightening.
My little sinning doll.
That’s what he had said. That I was his doll. I couldn’t break the rules, but we were alone. He had said that. No cameras, no lights, no anything. Just us.
But what if he was lying?
Would Thomas kill me then?
If I didn’t fear death, why would I fear this?
I had to obey the rules, right? And right now, the rules were that he was in charge.
Every muscle in my body tightened, my toes flexing, my heart racing, my breathing picking up.
Just one answer. Even if he was lying, they wouldn’t be able to pick it up on the cameras, I was sure.
Very slowly, as the roaring grew deafening in my ears, I felt the finger on my right hand slowly lift up and then drop, everything in my body screaming for it not to do it.
I immediately felt terrible. I felt as if I had betrayed Thomas all over again. As if I had ruined us again. The hollowness grew in my stomach, the cracks in my stone heart closing up, shielding my real heart from the world. I couldn’t believe I just did that. Why did I do that?
“I can see that brings you a great deal of pain,” he said. “Good. Habits like these must be broken. Do you understand the first thing I said?”
I wracked my racing mind, thinking back through everything he had said since walking into this room.
“In this room, you are mine.”
The stone hadn’t reformed all the way when another crack exploded across it, revealing my glowing red heart. I was his in this room. Only his.
I lifted my trembling finger and dropped it again, the motion painful and slow.
“Obedient little pet,” he hummed, a warmth sliding over my skin. “Did he cut you because of what Mr. Bastrom did?”
Telling others of what my betrothed did to me was against the rules. I was his to treat however he pleased.
But in this room, I was Azrael’s. I was protected by the walls, by the locked door. I had to answer. I wanted to.
I lifted a shaking finger and wrapped it back around the cane tightly. It felt just as good as it did horrible. I felt air rushing through me at high speeds, and while a part of me reveled in that feeling, another part of me felt sick.
This was wrong.
No, it was right.
“Is it infected?”
Infected? I kept my finger down. I didn’t think so. I kept it clean, I was sure.
He waited for a count of three Mississippi’s. “You aren’t allowed television, computers, or phones, but you do have books. I know someone in this church gave you a basic medical book. Did you not think to look the information up?”
I did look it up. All it said to do was pray.
Azrael was quiet. I wondered what he was thinking. If he believed that I was as dumb as they thought I was. I hoped not. I wanted to keep doing this. If I was here, then I wasn’t with Mr. Bastrom or Mr. Alascer.
I was here. Only here.
Finally, he said, “Did all it suggest was for you to pray?”
I lifted and dropped my finger, feeling the motion all the way down to my elbow. I hadn’t eaten hardly a thing in the last two weeks. I hadn’t communicated with anyone in years. Everything felt far more difficult than it should have been.
“Interesting.” The cane shifted a bit and then I heard the sound of a little clasp releasing, a moment later, there was a click, as if something was being closed.
“Tick tock goes the clock, even for this session,” he hummed almost to himself.
“When you get back to wherever your hovel is, I want you to bare the injury, gently wash it out with cool water and a small amount of soap, use tweezers to pick away whatever pieces of infection you can, and clean it again.
“There might be puss, you’ll want to get rid of as much of that as possible.
Once that is done, you must apply a warm compress three times a day.
Or, in your circumstance, as often as you can.
If you’re not allowed something like that, simply put rice in a wool sock, heat it up for two minutes, and use that.
“You should apply one of three things. Petroleum Jelly, aloe vera, or lavender oil directly onto the wound. I’m assuming you don’t have any antibiotic ointment, so those will have to do. Bandage it up, replace it once a day. I can’t have you dying before I get what I want from you. Understood?”
I lifted and dropped my finger. “Yes, I do.” That should surely help me. Azrael was smart, clear and intentional with his words. He was trying to help for his own gain, something I wasn’t unfamiliar with, but that was okay. I could help him.
“Very good, let go of the cane.”
I released it, lowering my hands to my sides.
He put the cane under my chin again and lifted it until my closed eyes were level with his. “Tick tock goes the clock, and all the souls will drown,” he hummed.
I could hear the raging sea in his words and my skin flooded with warmth because of it.
“In the blood they will be bathed, and the devil will be crowned.”
My heart thudded at his words, my lips threatening to part as the need to exhale came through me at full force.
“Until then, you do what I say and perhaps your head won’t be among theirs. Understood?”
I tapped my finger against my thigh.
“Good.” He released my chin, and I quickly dipped my head, opening my eyes for the first time just to see his shoes. His black leather shoes, handcrafted, everything in its place.
His shoes were pointed at me, his cane on his right side, beautiful and shining.
“Until next time, little sinner. We’ll find your power yet.”