Mentor (An Impossible Novella) (6 page)

He never allowed me to see his face.  Even though I couldn’t physically read his emotions, I was beginning to fear that He was becoming bored with me.

He brought food and water to me intermittently.  I could never tell if ages or no time at all had passed between those times.  We followed what was now a familiar pattern: I accepted sustenance from his hand only, and He washed me.  Although he touched my bare skin, he didn’t violate me again; after that first time, he avoided my breasts and my sex.  If He did touch them, it was a detached, dutiful thing.

I was horrified to realize that having his hands on me didn’t really bother me anymore.  I was completely dependent on him for every necessity, and when reduced to basic survival imperatives, my mind turned more primal.  It was a struggle to maintain lucidity, to think of anything other than when He would come back, when I would feel human contact and hear a voice that was not my own.

I’m not gonna make it after all.
 

That single, small, defeatist thought jolted my brain back to life.  I had never before allowed myself to succumb to despair.  I always had a plan, was always determined to achieve my goals, no matter how hard I had to work to attain them.

It was time to speak again.  It was time to ask another question.

Forming complex, coherent thoughts was a struggle at first, but I reached deep within myself, finding the steely determination that had always resided within me.  I was a survivor, and I wasn’t going to give in to the monster who reveled in tormenting me.

I realized that neither of us thought of the other as completely human.  In my mind, he was a monster, and in his mind, I was a plaything.  If I could find a way to make him see me as more than that, maybe He would begin to feel guilty about what he was doing to me.  If I was a real person in his eyes, surely I could draw compassion out of him.

My mind combed through the various questions I could ask in order to get what I wanted.  I had to choose carefully.  All of his answers so far had proven useless, and they had cost me dearly.

He was already robbing me of my sanity, of my will to fight.  What more could He take from me?

So many things,
a cruel, cynical voice whispered through my consciousness.

Terrible consequences that He might inflict upon me threatened to consume my thoughts.  I shoved them back.  All I could focus on was my question.  I couldn’t forget my purpose or allow him to frighten me into silence.  He hadn’t hurt me physically since I had paid the price for asking who He was, but the emotional torment of this sensory deprivation was so much worse.  I would almost welcome that pain.

At least I would feel
something.
  Something other than his tender touches that I was coming to crave in a most perverse way.  If He didn’t treat me with his sadistic brand of kindness, I might have been able to hold on to my hatred in order to resist him.

My question became a litany in my head.  I couldn’t let go of it; I couldn’t fall into thoughts of him.  That path led to madness.

When the door creaked open, my body tensed in nervous anticipation.  His footsteps paused on the stairs.  I hadn’t shown any signs of resistance in a long time.

His low chuckle was one of pleasure, and He descended the stairs more quickly than usual, as though he was eager to get to me.

The bed dipped beside me as He settled himself down onto it, but he didn’t reach for my restraints.  That was usually the first thing He did before gathering me up in his arms and feeding me.  I realized that I had done something to break our holding pattern, and a chill swept through me.

As much as I hated the routine that was carefully designed to drive me to madness, fear of the unknown welled up, stronger than I could ever recall.

I jumped when He gently traced the line of my cheekbone.

“What are you thinking, pet?”  His voice held an edge of anticipation that mirrored my own, only where mine was fearful, his was eager.  My gut clenched at the sound.

“Why…”  I took a deep breath to steel my resolve.  I wouldn’t back down now.

And a sick part of me was vaguely satisfied that He was pleased with me.  My recognition of that fact was the final push I needed to follow through with my plan which would help me retain my sanity.  It might even secure my freedom.

“Why me?”  My voice was hoarse from disuse, but my question was discernable.  All of my plotting had brought me to those two simple words.  Surely a blunt question warranted a blunt answer.  I hoped to compel his honesty by eliciting an automatic response.

My heart sank when He didn’t answer immediately.

Oh, god
.  This was how it had been before.  He prepared me for whatever torture he had in mind, and then he provided the answer.

Would this one be as useless as the rest?

My body began to tremble.

His thumbs hooked below the lower edge of the blindfold, and He gently eased it up over my brow.  I scrunched my eyes closed, a small sound of discomfort working its way up my throat.  I feared the pain of the light, and I feared to look upon his beautiful, disgusting features.

The light forcing its way through my eyelids dimmed, and his fingers stroked my cheek in that cruelly soothing motion.  Tentatively, I eased my eyes open to slits.  He was shading my eyes with his hand, protecting me from the harsh light until my vision could adjust.

Even the sight of his palm was breathtaking.  It had been so long since I had seen anything.  My eyes greedily roved over the lines etched upon it, taking note of the callouses at the base of each of his fingers.

Suddenly, I wondered what He did to get those callouses.  Thus far, I had done my best to ignore the sensation of their roughness against my skin, but now they intrigued me.  I knew nothing about this man who held me hostage.  Understanding him might be the key to my freedom.  But how could I discover anything about him if I couldn’t ask questions?

Even now, I regretted the simple question I had just asked.  I could tell from his demeanor that nothing good would come of it.  Still, I foolishly held my breath in the hopes that He might say something of use.

When I finally blinked away the last of the pain from my burning eyes, he slowly withdrew his hand from above my eyes.  For a moment, He looked glorious; He was my fallen angel.

Then horrific words dripped from his full lips, and the illusion of perfection was shattered.

“You want to know why I chose you?  I took you because you were convenient.”

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes to drip down into my hair, and I turned my face away from him.

Useless.  
What would He make me surrender to him this time?  What would He take from me in exchange for that answer?  It didn’t help me in any way; it didn’t sway him, and it didn’t yield any further information about him.

No.  That was wrong.  I just didn’t want to accept what I had learned about him.

He was more than simply callous or selfish; He was heartless.  The monster had no sense of empathy or compassion.  It was as though he had no understanding of human emotion at all.

He gave me a lopsided smile, but it was nothing more than a veneer of happiness.  The red glint in his eyes let me know that it was only a twisted form of pleasure.  Even a beast could feel pleasure, a base satisfaction.

He lightly touched my breast in a mockery of a lover’s caress.

“Now.  Let’s find out what makes you scream, pet.”  He said the words softly, almost tenderly.  This was what he truly wanted: not my obedience, but my agony.

My defiance reared its head.  Trapped by my restraints, there was nothing I could do to fight him physically.  I quelled the urge to jerk wildly against my bonds, to allow crushing fear to overwhelm my mind.  My mind was my only weapon, and I wouldn’t give it up so easily.

Lifting my chin, I stared directly into his glowing amber eyes.

I will not scream for him.  Not this time.
 

My challenging glare elicited a grin from my tormentor.  He chuckled down at me almost affectionately.

“You won’t break any time soon, will you?”  He tapped his finger against my forehead.  “My clever pet.”

The words made my stomach turn, but I realized that I had learned something else about him.  He might have taken me because I was convenient, but I was important to him in some capacity.  If I didn’t know better, I would say he was growing… fond of me.

If He enjoyed my defiance, then I would give it to him.  That suited my tastes just fine.  If he truly was feeling some affection for me, I needed to foster that.  If he cared, he might feel guilty about what he was doing to me.  He might let me go.

Suddenly, He grabbed my breasts with punishing force.  I bit my tongue to keep from crying out.  I was becoming immune to the shame of his touch upon my naked flesh, but he hadn’t truly hurt me since I had asked him why he was doing this to me.

“Has anyone ever touched you here, pet?”  His long drawl was a low rumble.  He released one of my breasts, and his hand closed roughly around my sex.  “How about here?”

I might have been fooling myself, but I imagined that his grip was a touch possessive.  Another point in my favor.

Despite the tiny spark of triumph within me, my cheeks flamed with my embarrassment.  When He had washed me, his touches had been impersonal.  This was entirely different.  He wanted to know my secrets. He wanted to take ownership of these forbidden parts of me.

He threw back his head and laughed, reading me easily.  The sound was one of pure, perverse glee.  It was a tangible force, clinging to my skin with toxic joy.

“Is my pet a virgin?”

Two fingers teased between my lower lips, threatening to push into my opening.  I clenched against the invasion, and a twinge of pain hit me when He met the barrier of my tightened muscles.

For a moment, his ruthless expression made me fear that He would force his way in, tearing into me.  Instead, he retreated slightly, his touch playing through my folds.

“I asked you a question,” He said on a low growl, his grip tightening threateningly.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to allow the affirmation of his suspicions to pass through my lips.  It was too personal, too humiliating.  I wasn’t ashamed of the fact that I was untouched.  But it was a part of my identity.  I was Kathleen Marie White, and I had denied men again and again in my dedication to my independence.

The monster wanted to take that from me, and if I allowed that, He would take another piece of my self, my soul.

I had a moment to register his frown at my reticence before the pain hit.  Fire bloomed between my legs, turning to a harsh sting on my labia.  My legs closed tightly, instinct driving me to apply pressure to alleviate the fire.

He clucked his tongue as though at a disobedient child and settled his weight over my knees, stretching me open.  My muscles quivered, futilely straining to escape his hold.

“Answer me.”  The order was a calm demand.  “Are you a virgin?”

His hand came down again.

“Yes!”  The word left my lips on a strangled shout.  This was far worse than when He had slapped my legs.  It was as though my intimate flesh was ten times more sensitive than my tender thighs.  The stinging barbs of hundreds of bees pierced my skin.

Another hit.  “Address me properly, pet.”

“Yes, Master!  Please.  Please stop!”

I tensed when his hand moved toward my sex once again, then sobbed in relief when He did nothing more than firmly press his palm against me.  I couldn’t help pushing up into him, desperate for the pressure and heat that would help override the cruel sting.

“I’m going to learn your body, pet.  And I suspect I’ll teach you a few things in the process.  I won’t stop until you scream for me.”

He’ll stop when I scream?  I can oblige him.
 

I let out a piercing wail, flinging my fury and frustration and hatred at him.  My eyes glared daggers into his.

He slapped me again, and this time my scream was genuine.

I blinked through the tears clouding my vision to find him frowning down at me.  It wasn’t an angry frown, but one of mild reproval.

“That scream was a lie, and I won’t tolerate dishonesty.  I am always honest with you.  Do you value your questions?”  There was a knowing gleam in his eye.  “I know you plan them, carefully parsing them out when you’re desperate to know more.  I can take that from you.  And then I can take everything from you.  Do you understand me?”

Oh, I understood.  Terror gripped me at my understanding.  If He chose to end our game, I could no longer control how much I gave up to him.  He could rape me, beat me, inflict whatever horrors that pleased him upon me.

“Y-Yes.”  I swallowed hard.  “I understand, Master.”

His thumbs brushed the tears from my cheeks.

“Besides, that’s not the kind of screaming I had in mind.  You earned that pain just now, but that’s not your consequence for your question.  That was discipline.”

Oh, god.  
The torment hadn’t even begun?  More tears slipped over his thumbs.

He cupped my face in one hand and trailed his fingers down my throat.  It elicited a tickling sensation, but my shiver wasn’t an unpleasant one.  He traced the shell of my ear.  When he gently tugged on my lobe, there was a strange stirring between my legs.

“What-?”  I stopped myself just in time.  
What are you doing to me?
 

He knew what I was going to ask.  “I’m exploring you, pet.  I want to find out what makes you tick.  What makes you scream.”

What makes you scream.  
I understood now; He wanted me to scream in ecstasy.  Horror rolled through me, but it didn’t entirely dampen the heat that He was stoking low in my belly with his gentle touches.

I couldn’t help it; I jerked at my restraints.

“Please.  Don’t.”

He abruptly shifted to tweak my nipple.  It was a hard peak, and the little twist of pain He gave me was echoed by the clenching of my inner walls.  “Please.”  My plea was a low whine, and it wasn’t entirely one of physical distress.