Mature!

Do not read if sex or violence will offend. Thank you.

Edit: I fixed a few errors I noticed, and have placed this chapter under the appropriate genre, style, and license.

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The next day, I was so sore that it was difficult to move, but He was not compassionate for my position at all. In fact, several times just that morning, I was victim to His displeasure with my slowness. By breakfast, I had a sting across my cheek, and at least three other bruises. All but the sting on my cheek were beneath my garments, though.

Even breakfast was awful. I was allowed to sit on His lap as usual, but I was given no food. When He finished eating, we went into His office for meetings. He hit me again, when I would have sat on His lap, but said nothing to me. Remembering the rule at parties, I went to sit down at His feet, but again that was wrong. His hand gripped my arm as He pulled me back up to standing, leaving yet more bruises there. He shoved me behind His chair and placed my hand on His shoulder. Understanding now, I lifted my other hand and placed it on His other shoulder.

This time, there was no displeasure, so I assumed I'd done correctly. I was forced to stand like this all morning, and was looking forward to being able to sit again at lunch. Indeed, for lunch His good mood seemed to have returned, and He fed me. Unusually, I was not allowed to have my fill, but at least I ate something, and that was good. Then we went into the laundry room, where I was able to sit again.

As night approached, I grew more fearful of what was to come that night. Perhaps sensing my fear, the woman that taught me to knit (she called herself Granny) put her arms around me and said softly, “Do not fear, child. He is not always such a harsh lover, but that He has been without a woman since the other died, six years ago.”

We continued to knit, and she told me some stories of Him. “I was His first lover, and like you, I am blind. It is tradition in His family to blind their lover-slaves, to distinguish us from others, but also to make us wholly dependent upon them, and to stop us from identifying them. This is a powerful family you were brought into, little one. He seems young, I know, and I old, but I was very young when I came here to be His first lover. I can't even remember a time before this. When I was in my late twenties, He lost interest in me,though, and bought a second girl. She was sold after only ten years, and He began to train a third girl. She died just twelve years later, though, and now, He has you.”

She paused, then added, “His people age one year for every three we age, you know. By our standards he is only twenty-five, for His people also come to the sexual hormones long before ours do.” There was more silence as we knitted, until He returned to bring me to supper.

This time, he seemed to be in a splendid humor, and fed me until I was quite full. Even though I was eating even after He had finished, He held me on his lap, feeding me, and kissing my back and shoulders. When we returned to the room, I undressed us, and we climbed into the bed.

When He touched my cheek, I stiffened, fearing that He would assault me as He had the night before, but He leaned forward and kissed me fully, tenderly, and deeply. His hand traveled down my body, lingering over my small breasts, and finally, brushing against the soft skin on the inside of my thigh. I shivered as He touched me so tenderly, and when He moved atop me, I wasn't as scared as before. Gently, He rubbed the tender wetness between my legs, dipping His fingers inside briefly, as He kissed my neck and shoulders.

His mouth and fingers brought me pleasure, and when He spread my legs and ever so gently slipped himself inside of me, I was pleased to find that it didn't hurt as it had before. That night, He made love to me so sweetly and gently that I even looked forward to the next night without fear.

For the next few weeks, time passed like this. Meetings would be spent with me standing behind Him, afternoons would be spent washing clothes, and then knitting with Granny and listening to her stories. The late evenings were normally spent in love-making, where I learned how to pleasure Him. It was not always as nice for me, and He would often be in a bad mood from one meeting or other. I nearly always sported bruises, for they never had time to heal before He would add another, new one. Usually more than one at a time.

Then, we had another party. The first since I had begun my cycle, it was almost immediately after I stopped bleeding for the second time. He had me dress Him up nicely immediately after lunch, and then I dressed myself in the gown He gave me, made of a soft, light fabric that felt wonderful against my skin. This time, He attached no leash to my circlet, but warned me to mind, and stay close to Him. I nodded, and cuddled up against his chest, as I normally did in car rides.

He held me there, but as we neared our destination, He said, “Next time, you will sit beside me in here.” I nodded, knowing that I was simply too big to continue sitting in His lap.

When we arrived, I realized that there were many more people there than I had ever “seen” at one of these parties before. The men were all the usual ones, and I knew most of them by voice, but there were also many free women there, as well. At first, He avoided the women almost religiously, but He did not succeed in that for very long, and one woman convinced Him to dance with her.

He put His hand on my shoulder, so I stayed by His chair while He danced with her, listening to the chatter around me. After a little while, I felt someone grab my wrist and pull me away from His chair. I assumed it was Him, returned in a bad mood, and I couldn't hear anyone's footsteps clearly. After I was pulled along like this for a little while, I did begin hearing the footsteps of the person leading me, and they were most definitely not His. She walked with a click that told of women's shoes.

I struggled, wrenching my wrist out of her grasp, and I turned and fled back into the midst of the party. Too quickly, though, I felt her hand grab me again, and she called back, “Help me hold her! This one's strong!” Then, more hands grabbed me roughly, and pulled me away.

They took me to a corner outside, not too far away, and each of the three men there had his turn with me. In the end, my dress was in tatters, and I was sore and abused, and bleeding from more than one cut. The woman clicked up to me in her heels, leaned down, and said acidly, “Hope you had fun, sweetcheeks. I'd love to see his face when he sees you like this, but I don't think I'll stick around anyway. Ta-ta.” Then all of them left, and I huddled there, pressed back into the corner, and huddled up around my knees.

Darkness became complete, and the temperature dropped dramatically. I realized that I was crying, but that the tears were freezing on my cheeks. Finally, hours later, He came and saw me huddled there. I could almost taste the anger flowing from Him, and I shrank back into the corner. He grabbed my arm and forced me to stand, snapping a leash to my circlet. Then, He forcefully pulled me the few feet to His vehicle, and shoved me inside.

The entire ride was silent, but the moment we got home, He jerked me into our bedroom, closed and locked the door, and proceeded to beat me, though He said not a word. When He was finished, there was not a single place on my body that didn't hurt, though I didn't think anything was broken. After a long silence, where I was crumpled up on the floor, and He stood there, breathing heavily, He said to me, “Get up. Undress me. Now.”

Slowly, achingly, I got to my feet, but before I could begin to undress Him, He slapped me hard. “Move quickly, slave,” He snapped.

I undressed Him as quickly and neatly as I could, trying to ignore how much I hurt, then undressed myself. When I was finished, He grabbed my arms and forced me down on the bed. Through my tears, I begged Him, “Master, please, not tonight. Please, Master!” He let go of one of my hands long enough to hit me in my ribs, knocking my breath out of me, then He proceeded to violently have His way with me.

When I awoke the next morning, it was, as with the first time, difficult to move. Yet He ignored my pains, again, and I was forced to work as though I felt normal. Even still, I acquired yet more bruises that morning, and went without breakfast. Instead of the usual meetings, He sat alone with me in His office, looking up information on His console. We passed right through lunch, and He never moved. Finally, nearing supper time, He rose.  

After He attached a leash to my circlet, He took me out into his gardens for a walk before we ate. It was a quiet walk, but I dared say nothing. Finally, we returned to the house, and ate. I was allowed my fill, but that night was full of more violent sex. I cried into the pillow as He slept, unable to fall asleep, myself, for a long while.