Descent Into Darkness (19 page)

CHAPTER X
XXVI – The Curtain Draws Back

Slowly the protagonists circled each other and moved off in their respective directions, united only in acceptance that this was not the time, knowing that it would come.

Immelmann picked his way through the respectful well-wishers and, after ascending the three steps, sat on the large, high backed chair placed on top of the raised platform. ‘Throne-like,’ thought Katarina from a short distance away, hurrying to keep pace with Raven who stalked across the floor to sit beside her master.

It was a chair upholstered in rich burgundy velvet, a manifestation of the ego that sat upon it. Immelmann was on top of the world with the tamed Raven beside him, a past distraction who clearly still wanted him looking on with newfound steel and a brand new toy hurrying after her trainer.

He had left the girl’s training entirely to Raven and her helpers, not caring of the methods, confident she would get the right results. She’d promised that the girl would be broken, trained as a slave to serve both their needs and Immelmann looked forward to her formal presentation to him with relish.

It would not be here though. He had been told she was not yet ready and that attendance at the grand ball was but another element of her training. She would be tested, her obedience put on trial. Immelmann acquiesced and permitted Raven additional time.

Content, Immelmann nodded to himself seeing the elegant Katarina step up onto the platform and settle on the floor beside the now seated Raven. She was certainly attentive to Raven and that showed her methods were working.

Her conditioning had focussed on Raven though. It was open rebellion and an affront to his house but none of this was yet known to Immelmann. And so he sat, surveying the room he thought he ruled. The evening progressed and he waited for the start of the alternative entertainment Raven had promised.

== ~ ==

The woman was taller than Jade imagined. She thought she would have been smaller, more submissive looking but clearly she had been wrong. Katarina took Jade’s eye, seated as she was on the floor beside Raven. Long legs curled beneath her and Raven occasionally leant to brush her cheek absent-mindedly while talking to Immelmann.

The note had said she was a slave but, even from this distance, Jade could see the sadness in Katarina’s exquisitely made up eyes. She was sitting as close as possible to her Mistress. The shocks were compelling that, rather than love. She wasn’t yet lost, not yet fully broken, never mind comfortable in her enforced role. Katarina she was apparently called and she was dressed to kill, though there would be no killing tonight.

Glances her way told Jade that she was recognised and the uneasy smiles explained the discomfort other guests felt. Never go back they say but go back Jade had. It was something she’d always envisioned, a triumphant return with confidence fully mended, posture proud to show Immelmann exactly what he was missing. This was early though, too early but the note that had appeared on her desk had drawn her. A clarion call for help that she couldn’t simply ignore, it had compelled Jade to gather what confidence she could so she could be in the same room as both her female nemesis and the heartless bastard she couldn’t help but still love.

Nobody extended a hand in invitation to dance and it was as uncomfortable as it was sad that the elegant lady with the stunning green eyes sat alone. Jade adopted a serene air as if she didn’t care. She did though and hurt strummed on her heart as the gathered glitterati kept a respectful distance out of fear of displeasing their host.

She watched Raven, the woman who sat where she should have been. The feeling was indescribably strange and her blood boiled while her heart chilled. She hated her with the same passion she still loved Immelmann but Jade, as many others, feared what Raven was capable of doing to defend herself and what she had secured as hers.

== ~ ==

A flourish of the band signalled the start of the evening’s entertainment and the guests pressed curiously forward to the small temporary stage in one corner.

The lights gradually dimmed until the room was in total darkness apart from a soft illumination picking out Immelmann and his entourage. A murmur of disquiet rippled around the room.

It seemed forever until the curtains were flung back and the stage was flooded with light. Jade blinked to adjust to the sudden incandescent brilliance. In the centre of the stage, hanging limply by her wrists was the girl Jade’s night was about. Not the one Jade had imagined, this girl was elfin-faced and flanked by two leather-clad attendants.

CHAPTER XXXVII – The Camel’s Back

The week had started well
but had then descended into a pain-ravaged inky blackness that even Mela felt wasn’t deserved. She’d been so careful but it had made little difference, she had still been discovered.

She wasn’t entirely sure how. Perhaps it had been those extra few seconds she had stolen the last time, maybe it was when she knocked her knee accidentally against Raven’s bed. Irrespective of whatever mistake she had made, Mela had been found out and no slave of Raven’s took liberties as she had done.

Raven had come as Mela was busying herself in her daily chores. Dutifully arranging her Mistress’ clothing and tidying her dressing area, Mela had felt an arm stretch her around her stomach and a second clamping something over her nose and mouth.

Kicking out, Mela’s heel had connected with a shin but it only caused the arm around her waist to tighten and lift her off her feet. Man or woman, she couldn’t initially tell but as the arm squeezed, she inhaled sharply, the heavy smell of chloroform invading her nostrils and her head starting to spin.

The arm had been covered in leather. This kind of thing wasn’t Amber’s style, which left only Red. Mela knew how dangerous Red could be, striving as she was for the approval of Mistress Raven, seeking to demonstrate devotion at every turn.

In school, she’d gained the nickname Mela and it still labelled her to this day. Shortened from ‘Camel’, most thought it was earned as a compliment to her resilience but it was a nickname hard won from her twin as a grudging but respectful reference. He delighted in pushing her calm to that point where the ‘straw broke the camel’s back’ and she would snap with frightening ferocity.

That time was now and Mela’s anger exploded even as her foggy mind started to forget just why it was sparked. Furiously she kicked out with all the remaining force she could muster. It only served to speed her descent as the fumes penetrated deeper into her lungs, ushering away her consciousness along with her final resistance, propelling her toward the waiting malice of Raven’s retribution. As Mela had fought with diminishing strength, the Californian kept the cloth clamped as her victim’s resistance ebbed away.

== ~ ==

Gradually, consciousness crept back, announcing its return with a staccato drumbeat of pain while the mists crept clear.

What had happened? Where was she? Why did her wrists hurt? All valid questions but questions she was yet unable to answer. Cotton wool still filled her head.  She forced open her eyes for visual prompts to her misfiring memory.

It was a room. White. Clinically so, and Mela couldn’t quite recall if she had been there before. Yet it did seem familiar. She struggled to push aside the fog and a flash briefly fired before her mind’s eye.

A picture of a woman dressed head to toe in black latex, held in the middle of the room. It was a vividly clear image but she was tall so Mela knew it wasn’t her. A mirror. A drain. A door to the left appeared as Mela’s mind filled in more of the detail.

She looked around slowly. This wasn’t the same place, the door was different and the drain was missing. She must be still in the manor. Yes. The manor. That part at least clicked and her head pounded the march of her memory.

The bite in Mela’s wrists begged another immediate question and she looked up to see the chain around them disappearing up to the ceiling. Why? Then the first links began to form. The woman bound in latex. The manor. The way she was attacked from behind. Katarina.

‘Katarina!’ Her waking mind screamed in confirmation. Yes, she’d stolen time to see her, connecting with the woman to console and comfort her in a moment of need. She had been careful, as quiet as the proverbial church mouse and yet somehow she must’ve been discovered. As the door flew open her suspicions were confirmed as her Mistress, Raven, marched through the door.

“I will
not
tolerate disloyalty.” Her banshee scream brooked no answer and she quickly closed the distance, unfurling the red leather bullwhip clutched in her hand.

Mela braced herself - she knew what was coming but as it scorched her back the familiar remorse was missing. There was nothing in its place. No fear, no pangs for her late brother. Now a new emotion oozed into its place.

Anger. Sure, she’d been constantly angry with herself since the accident but this was different, it somehow felt better rooted, directed as it was toward the woman flaying her back.

She didn’t need this, not from
her
and as the skin on her back split to the attentions of the braided leather, Mela knew that time was finally starting to heal the scars on her soul. To that revelation she bore the corrections of her Mistress and, as consciousness slipped from her, this time it was a welcome reprieve.

CHAPTER XXXVIII – On The Block

The
sudden sight of Mela hanging there, apparently lifeless, stunned the room. Katarina sat wide eyed, staring, too numb to even breathe. The contrast to Raven could not have been starker. She sat with the satisfied look of the cat presenting a hunted mouse to her owner.

A naked woman, chained and helpless, ringed by guests dressed to the nines and beyond. To the casual observer there could have been no stranger scene. Here though, few even flinched.

Raven rose to the turning of heads and descended the platform with that regal air of absolute power, a beautiful girl hurrying after her, fearing the pain from her collar.

Raven studied the room, taking a moment to ensure all eyes were directed her way. The examination of the audience was of course redundant. They all looked. They all waited. Adrenalin surged within her, excited murmuring started in an otherwise spellbound room - they were in the palm of her hand.

The delicious image indelibly written to her memory, Raven slowly raised a gloved arm, milking the attention, milking the anticipation. “Ladies and gentlemen.” A total hush fell. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you tonight’s entertainment. Let the bidding begin.”

Dropping her arm on the last word, a spotlight picked out an auctioneer. A display behind him started to tick over as the first bids from the internet feed registered, and only moments later shouted bids from the room began.

One thousand; eleven hundred; twelve fifty; the bidding climbed quickly. Katarina could only look on, mesmerised. A stabbing tingle in her neck told her that Raven had returned to her seat to watch, compelling Katarina to shuffle back to kneel just to Raven’s rear.

Leather clad hands slowly turned Mela’s limp form and the welts on her back could clearly be seen. This seemed to whip the bidding into a renewed frenzy and the display ticked quickly past eleven thousand, an anonymous phone bid from someone North African.

Reaching twenty two thousand, the bidding started to slow before Amber’s fingers squeezed Mela’s nipple. Mela woke with a cry of anguish, bucking in her chains and spurring the bidding on again.

Racing past twenty nine thousand Mela danced involuntarily to the practised hands that first teased and then tormented her strung up body. She wanted to kick out, her straw had already broken, but her ankles were fastened to the floor.

It was at thirty two thousand that the bidding finally paused. The lights on the screen showing active bidders blinked out one by one. As much as the auctioneer tried, pockets were exhausted even though the elfin girl bucked to skilled hands on the stage beside him.

“Going once,” he called, looking round the room for more interest. “The bidding stands with an internet bid from Bangkok.” He looked up and around again.

“Going twice. Surely this fine specimen is worth a little more?” There was a teasing urgency in his voice born of a hunger to earn more commission. He raised the gavel high, ready to strike down and declare the auction closed, scanning the room once more.

“One hundred thousand,” a woman’s voice called from the side. The assembly gasped and turned as one to see the stunning woman dressed in green striding toward the stage.

“One hundred thousand,” Jade repeated, forcing more confidence, moving through the parting crowd to be acknowledged with a nod by the delighted auctioneer.

“The bid is with the lady in green,” the auctioneer declared, looking around though knowing there would be no further interest. “At one hundred thousand.”

“One hundred thousand. Going once,” he called scanning the room. “Going twice.” Bangkok’s light went out.

“Sold!” The gavel struck the wooden lectern. “Sold to Mistress Jade for one hundred thousand.”

== ~ ==

It was the finality that did it. She’d missed her tenderness and support but now Katarina knew why Mela had abruptly stopped visiting, a story succinctly told by the latticework marks on her back. She’d clearly been found out and the tolerance levels of Raven had been demonstrated in graphic detail. Katarina had to help her, had to stop Mela being sold but leaping down the platform stairs, the blinding pain in her neck caused her to stagger.

Still Katarina pushed forward, only intensifying the pain until she feared her head would explode. A scream welled and found wings and Katarina heard it fly into the room and echo back to her.

She had to get to Mela. All other thoughts were fried. One more step saw her stagger again, the next drop all the way to the floor, a heeled boot on her back now helping her down.

“Be still, honey,” dripped the Californian voice from above. It was a redundant command. The fight had already fled from Katarina even before fingers laced into her hair. A near silent bleep and the proximity trigger transferred from Raven to Red whose angry hands now tore away Katarina’s designer dress.

Dragged roughly through the crowd, the shreds of expensive material couldn’t hide Katarina’s modesty and though she pleaded for help, none came. Faces watched impassively as she was hauled past. She was part of the show, nothing more. She was in the hands of Red, and Red was angry.