Dark Days (Written Pictures #2) (26 page)

Mela walked forward as confidently as she could and thrusting out her hand she offered the necessary compliments, remembering belatedly to courteously bow. “Your Royal Highness, my name is Mela.” And from that, she started to explain why her Mistress, Jade, wasn’t there as expected.

CHAPTER LVII – Dominant Looks

Raven was hungry but that wasn’t her greatest need. Her mind reached out for input and her spirit for basic kindness. She had tried to move her arms to get some respite from the strain but they were stretched out so tightly, no movement was possible.

It had been easy to figure things out when Alexei held primacy and all else fell in place below. Now it was much more complicated. The female of the species is deadlier than the male. Clichéd, but Raven knew it to be true – she had been the living embodiment of that after all, once upon a time. Natalia scared her just for that reason. Threatened, there was no telling what she may do. Natalia saw her as a rival and yet Raven depended on her to exist.

These and other thoughts trickled through her mind as she struggled to hold herself together. Devoid of physical sensations except the occasional throb from her shoulder, the wounds on her soul resonated. Growing fears plucked at her, intruding with increasing insistence, invading every thought until she couldn’t think of anything else.

Natalia was someone she depended on. Alexei thought of her as nothing but a warm body to ‘fuck and forget’. But the kiss, Raven still remembered the kiss. Had she been kissed at all? Dreams, damned confusing dreams.

The thought of motion crept into her mind and she could feel an almost imperceptible slithering of water over her until a jolt confirmed it as the frame hit vertical. Another sensation of movement, distinct, as the frame was hoisted out of the tank and swung free.

Raven’s head hung down, there was no need to support it and nothing to see or hear. It felt like she was being flooded with input as the frame hit the floor. Fingers hooked beneath the hood to roughly wrench it away, her senses assaulted with sight, sound and clean, non-rubber smells all at once. It left her stunned.

“Welcome back, Ki-Ki.”

Rivulets of water picked paths down her latex-clad body, adding to the sensory overload. A small hand clutched her chin, turning her head side to side to judge just what the tank had achieved.

Looking at the tall woman, Natalia couldn’t help but smile. Her dark eyes hollowed, as if trying to retreat away into the safety of her soul. Her spark had dimmed and the life that she had watched hook her dearest brother barely flickered in the depths. Fuck her brother then you fuck with me – the phrase was triumphal but kept in Natalia’s head. She had doused that flame and that made her warm inside.

It had been a risk but the day in the tank had taken its toll and looked to have snuffed out the spirit that had caused so much trouble. There was a little left, just enough for show, not much. The Games had been postponed for the day as Alexei had needed to go to the plant urgently to sort something out, leaving though strict instruction that the American was not to hang from the pier. Natalia had stuck to that, but had taken the opportunity to inflict something far worse instead.

Yes, there was a little life left in those eyes so she had clearly timed it to perfection. Turning the woman’s head this way then that, Natalia congratulated herself - yet another job planned and performed exquisitely.

Stretching up onto her toes, Natalia started unlatching the locks around the wrists of the woman, progressing from one to the other before crouching to repeat the action on her ankles.

On completion of the release of the four locks, for the first time in weeks Raven stood alone with the small woman, totally untethered, swaying as she struggled to stand. It was the chance she had been waiting for but her mind was still blinded by the renewed glare of her senses and was toiling to process everything that seemed to flash at her at once. A tug on a newly-attached leash shuffled her forward, with encouragement from Natalia. “Come along Ki-Ki.”

Cold bit as the water began to evaporate. Raven shivered as she was led down the now familiar corridor, leaving small puddles in her wake.

They entered the locker room. Raven remembered it but rather than staying there, they passed to the far side and through a door.

The new room was small, functional in its decoration but to Raven’s left was a mirror ringed by recessed LED lights. “There’s makeup, hair products, a dryer and a new pair of boots in there,” explained Natalia. She pointed quickly to a large, flat box on the floor and unclasped the leash. “You have thirty minutes Ki-Ki, prepare yourself,” she added, then was gone, the lock on the door closing with a clank.

In a daze, Raven stepped to the mirror and sat on an upholstered bench. There, staring back at her, was a woman she barely recognised. She hadn’t been allowed to see herself in an age and the woman she saw seemed older, stripped of confidence, stripped of the sexual power she had used to crush anyone stupid enough to stand in her way.

Her eyes seemed sunken, shrinking back in submission rather than sparkling in superlative sexuality. It matched how she felt, especially with her hair lank and plastered to her head.

She leaned forward, inspecting herself more closely. Her skin was patchily tanned due to all those hours swinging from the pier, more so than she would usually tolerate and while it did little to deflect from the definition of her cheekbones, it just wasn’t quite her.

It was a changed woman who mirrored her moves and also a changed woman that lay inside. Raven had been destroyed, briefly flickered but now she was a shell of what she had once been. Leaning closer to search for that spark, she was Jacqueline again, scared but this time alone. Hope had died with Red and Alexei offered nothing but a quick fuck. It was Natalia she depended on now, not that that made much sense. It was just a fact. Like it or loathe it, that was what it was.

Catsuits seemed popular with them and sure enough, there was another new one hanging by the dresser. She was well-practiced and it didn’t take long for her to shimmy her way into it and slide up the zip. They wanted more today though, the items on the dresser were there for a reason. Everything in this place was for a reason.

She looked down at the vanity box and lifted the lid. Brass hinges pivoted smoothly to reveal extensive contents - lipstick, blush, mascara, gloss, foundation; all her favourite brands were there and on some level that comforted her.

Her first order of business was always her hair and so she set to work to prepare herself as she had been told to – drying, brushing, straightening. All automatic, all done a million times before.

Thirty minutes wasn’t long and on a day when her hair fought back, it alone risked taking almost the whole time. Satisfied after fifteen minutes with ‘good enough’, she moved on to her face.

Jacqueline watched the reflected woman robotically go through the well-practised procedure of applying her war paint. In fifteen minutes she had managed another good enough, her familiar look swiftly recreated, if less exacting.

The woman in the mirror at least started to resemble the woman, Raven, she had once been. Dark smoky eyes, luxurious lashes, elegant cheekbones and lips you just had to kiss. It was her alright, even if she didn’t feel the same. A few more touches perhaps might help. Picking up a brush, her attention though was snapped back to the mirror.

It was the Jester’s reflection. “Boots on, Ki-Ki. Time to go.” His voice seemed to wither and mock with each syllable. She wasn’t sure why she obeyed the strange little man, but she did. Placing the brush back in its place, Jacqueline bent to retrieve the long, flat box and placed it on the dresser. Without hesitation, she slid the lid aside to be greeted with the aroma of expensive leather.

She instantly recognised the gleaming black boots. A trademark flash of scarlet soles, towering heels, unmistakable. Louboutin’s classic Bourge design. They were the same boots she had worn many times – a stock in trade when her trade had been domination. Reaching a hand inside, the reward of the buttery soft leather was the same as it always was. “Now, Ki-Ki!”

Folding the tissue paper aside, she lifted out the boots almost in reverence. First one, then the other were zipped closed snugly around her calves. Just like her own, they fitted as if they had been personally made for her and it reminded Jacqueline of happier times, of more certain times, more dominant times.

“Stand up Ki-Ki,” commanded the Jester with a scrawny finger under her chin to guide her up to her full height. She towered above the skinny man but it made no difference, not now. He nudged her to look right, then left, inspecting her away from the glare of the arena. Such a cold look, so matter of fact.

A smile crept across his wizened face, satisfied from a distance she would pass for her former self. “Lovely little Ki-Ki,” he said condescendingly. “You almost look like a dominant.” With that he peeled into laughter at his own irony and thrust a hand forward to clutch hers.

“Come, Ki-Ki.” The Jester set off with the shell of Raven in tow, hurrying toward the light at the end of the corridor. Nothing good happened there but she had little left to fight with so she followed, hand in hand with her tormentor.

There were no chains now, no leash, she no longer really needed either. The Jester paused before the door and prized open her fingers to expose her palm. “Here Ki-Ki, it’s yours,” he explained as he pressed in the handle of a bullwhip he had retrieved from the wall into her hand.

The strange man closed her fingers back around it, making her take a grip. She looked down at the tool that was once her trade. The coiled and braided black leather was dull and had obviously been wielded in anger many times. The handle was indented precisely where her fingers gripped and tightening her hold, she looked more closely.

Halfway down the curled length, Raven noticed a nick in the leather. She had done that when yanking it back off a snivelling wretch as he had grabbed at it, digging in with his nails in a vain attempt to have her show mercy and stop.

It was her bullwhip but how? It had been stained with the blood from the backs and butts of many slaves and Raven just stared at the connection to her past. The Jester chuckled, guessing what she must be going through. Taking hold of the whip in his own bony hand too, he led the confused and hollow woman out into the light of the arena once again.

CHAPTER LVIII – Ringed

The crowd howled a rich welcome but this time Raven barely heard them. Her focus was on her bullwhip, and being led by it to what would certainly be yet another humiliation by the scrawny clown.

Entering the arena, the Jester bowed low to the once imposing dominant, mocking her with fake subservience as he drew her to the centre of the arena. Alexei was there of course, watching from high. The Jester spoke.

“Your Royal Highness, esteemed ladies and gentlesluts.” A ripple of laughter rose from the crowd while others fired comments for him to get on with it. “Today, we have the honour of bestowing upon you the third of our ten presentations on the theme of The Decimation of a Dominatrix.”

The crowd roared in appreciation, delighting in the knowledge that even after today there was still much more to come. “To my left,” he swept out the wrong hand before correcting himself with a wild laugh. “To my right, may I present ‘Raven’, feared American dominatrix of many a tall tale.” He staggered away theatrically, feigning dread, then bowed with a flourish of his arm.

Raven’s fingers clenched around the handle of the bullwhip. Steeling herself, finding comfort in the whip, she started to notice things again.

Today the arena floor was covered in sand and her heels dug in deep, which no doubt was the intent. The crowd was as large and as hungry as ever. And yes, there was Alexei, ruler of all he surveyed. Beside him though was an empty seat and it wasn’t until a door on the opposite side of the circle slid aside, revealing Natalia, that she realised why.

“And to my left,” continued the Jester, jumping and pirouetting to heighten the drama. “May I present to you our very own Ballerinatrix!”

With another twirling flourish, he bowed low and backed away from the women. In the stands, a small figure in a black burka took her seat beside the Prince with a slight bow of her own.

Raven kept her eyes on Natalia, adrenalin surging through her body. This Natalia was unlike anything Raven could have imagined her being.

This version was like looking at the girl next door who passed by every day, usually run of the mill and unnoticed, until the day she had decided to shock for the first time and pimp up for Halloween. Natalia’s short black hair was spiked high, contrasting sharply with her pale skin. The darkness of it was only matched by the thick liner framing her eyes and the slash of black lipstick plumping lips that Raven had previously thought too thin to rescue.

Her outfit revealed her body properly. Though boyish, she wasn’t without shape, it had just been so well hidden before. What breasts she had were thrust out in a web of black leather which continued down her tummy to disappear under the leather strips that passed for a skirt. Around her legs, more black leather wove its way down to flat, functional footwear that wrapped around her feet. What really drew Raven’s attention though was the large, black phallus protruding through the leather strips of Natalia’s skirt. It was abundantly clear where this particular confrontation was intended to end.

The small woman with the large strap-on rose ‘en pointe’ then demonstrated a perfect ‘grand plié’ before claiming the centre of the ring with a most serene ‘glissade’.