Slave World (23 page)

I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. I felt like…I was… going… to…

“Mistress…I need…” I doubled over trying to vomit, dry heaving instead. My head felt like it was going to explode.

“Pony, what’s wrong, are you sick?” Donna was at my side with a dumfounded look.

“Thirsty… so thirsty,” I croaked, fighting the cramps that had my stomach and sides tied in torturous knots. Donna’s expression went suddenly blank, and her eyes seemed to change, coming into focus, becoming harder.

“You have heat exhaustion, Margo; let me get this gear off you.”

I nodded weakly, surrendering to her hands as the saddle and brutally hot leather was stripped from my body. It felt like a slice of heaven had descended upon my steaming flesh in the form of a cool, refreshing breeze.

“You should have said something sooner.” This wasn’t like Donna at all. Her voice had changed; she was in control and sure of herself. She reminded me of Nathan now. “Here let me help you; I’m going to get you in the pool, your core body temp is too high, you’re burning up.” Yes, I felt like I was on fire.

Donna guided me into the water, easing me onto a small ledge seat, until I was submerged from the waist down. The cool water felt like pinprick icicles ripping me apart. I started to shiver with convolution like tremors.

“Just relax,” Donna said softly, stroking my matted hair. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to get you some water. I wish I had a damn porta-doc with me,” she mumbled, vaulting from the pool in a cascading shower. All I could do was nod again, confused, but thankful for her strange behavior.

Donna touched a knot on the tree next to the shelf, and part of the trunk swung open. It revealed a freezer compartment amid a swirl of frosty, white mist. She took a clear, liter-sized container from it, slipping back in the water beside me.

“Here, drink slowly, just little sips.” I nodded wearily, letting the water trickle icy rivers down my throat. It was wonderfully revitalizing even though my stomach cramped in protest from it. Donna turned me partially to the side, and began rubbing me down with handfuls of water over the next ten minutes.

I leaned against a large rock lowering myself further into the artificial pool.
Oh yeah, I could get used to this.
I studied Donna more closely now that my mind started to clear. She was stretched out, reclining like a cat, staring at the water quietly as if daydreaming. It was hard to tell until she was naked, but Donna was in excellent shape with toned, well-defined muscles that gave her a sleek, predatory appearance. I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but the way she’d moved earlier had been effortlessly fluid and sure for someone that was supposedly brain damaged.

Then I noticed something that made me stare at her in blank recognition. Donna was wearing a narrow, light brown waistband with garter straps that ran down her hips, ending around her thighs. On the inside of one, tucked up close to her groin was a small sheath with a beryllium plated body knife, and on the other side, lower and just above her knee, was a concealable 2mm-palm pistol.

My first thought was how the hell she’d managed to hide them under her pants, and the second was what she was doing with them in the first place? Both were designed to avoid detection, even by some of the more advanced scanners in use. They were silent and deadly weapons; they were weapons made for an assassin.

I looked up, and Donna was staring at me through the heavy slits of her eyelids. Her overall expression made me feel like I was looking down the barrel of a gun.

“Is something wrong, Margo?” I quickly looked away, wringing my hands together under the water with idle nervousness.

“No, Mistress.” Her gaze lingered a few moments, dissecting me as easily as a laser scalpel.

“This used to be mine and Nathan’s favorite spot to come and swim when we were younger. We’d spend hours here together,” she said trance-like, staring at the water, lost in time, “just talking or lounging about. It’s a very special place; it holds a lot of memories for the both of us.”

“It’s very nice, Mistress.” I knew exactly what she meant. The peaceful quiet of the jungle, and intermittent sounds of paradise birds, were my only companions. I could have easily fallen asleep in minutes.

“Did you know,” Donna began wily, “that Nathan lost his virginity very close to the spot you’re sitting? So did I, as a matter of fact.”
Oh please…Don’t tell me that they…

Donna must have seen my thoughts, reflected in the growing shock staring back at her. She gave a soft snort, with the shake of her head. “No, Margo, it’s not like that. I love
my brother, but I don’t
love
him.”

Thank God…

“I was eighteen, and he was a slave I purchased in Port City with my allowance. Of course we had house slaves before that, and several nannies, but he was the first slave I could call mine. His name was Seth, and there was nothing special about him, other than I’d thought he was cute at the time. I’ve slept with lots of slaves over the years, and just as many freemen, but Seth was my first, and I’ll never forget him.”

For whatever reason, Donna had decided to take a meandering stroll down memory lane, and I was content to let her idle away the time, while I half listened in a state of spreading relaxation. I have to say this was another one of those really weird moments for me, as I tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
Was she just pretending to be simpleminded all this time?
No, she couldn’t hide something like that from Nathan for all these years, could she?
What’s more, why would she act like that if she really weren’t? Once again, questions with no answers.

“I didn’t love Seth; my feelings for him were no more than any young woman’s for the first slave that they’d slept with, I suppose. I did care for him though, and he looked after my personal needs for many years. Of course Nathan never wanted a slave, in any sense of the word.” At the mention of Nathan’s name, my ears twitched, rotating slighting in her direction. “He was always so different, really quiet and shy, especially around women. It was almost impossible for the slaves to bath him when he was child; I knew they dreaded those times, but of course they would never dare voice it out loud. Nathan never did learn to appreciate the simple pleasures in life that come with being served; he always wanted to do everything for himself.”
Good for you, Nathan…

“He never seemed to fit in with the normal boys his age either. He never wanted a slave while growing up, and never showed much interest, at least openly at first, in any of the girls that were available to him on the ranch. Dad was actually worried he might be gay.” I choked down a barking laugh.
Trust me on this one, Nathan isn’t gay, not by a long shot.

“He was always such a do-gooder,” Donna chuckled with a soft smile. “I remember him coming home from school one day when he was fourteen, beat to a bloody mess. Mom and Dad were furious and wanted names; no one did that to a Burke and got away with it, but Nathan wouldn’t tell them a damn thing.

“The same thing happened for the next three days after that. Of course our parents automatically assumed he was being bullied for whatever reason; Nathan wasn’t very big, nothing but skin and bones back then. Despite my parents taking it up with the school board, and threatening everyone for answers up to the Council itself, it continued off and on for nearly a month. Dad was about ready to hire bodyguards for Nathan after he started spoofing the surveillance drones with a homemade jammer, but instead dad pulled him out of school and hired a slew of private tutors for him. The thing was, Nathan continued to show up every so often with a black eye, or busted lip. “ Donna glanced at me with a smirk; she had my full attention now.

“I was finally able to drag the truth out of him. Do you have any idea why my brother was getting into fights?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Nathan had come across a group of older boys one day on the way home from school, using a slave girl as a merry-go-round whore. I’m not really sure what made Nathan stick his nose someplace it didn’t belong, other than the fact that’s just how Nathan is. Apparently he didn’t like what he saw, and decided to put a stop to it. So my little brother, all ninety-eight pounds soaking wet, decided he wanted to go toe to toe with a group of much larger boys, members of the varsity football team no less, in a foolhardy attempt to rescue her.

“Of course he didn’t, and I’ve already told you the end result, but you know what? Nathan continued to go back to that spot every day to see if they were there with that girl. If they were, he threw himself into the fray because of some silly notion of misguided gallantry stuck in his head.”

You would do something like that, wouldn’t you, Nathan?

“My brother has to be one of the most stubborn men alive. He knew he was going to get the shit beat out of him, but he kept going back for more, regardless.”

“Actually, Mistress, I think it’s very romantic,” I said softly as the warmth in my heart continued to spread. Donna cocked a brow at me. “I mean, he was fighting for something he believed in; he was trying to protect that slave girl, wasn’t he?” Donna shook her head at me in contempt.

“She didn’t need protecting. It was well within their right to use her as they saw fit. Romantic or not, Nathan was in the wrong; it wasn’t his place to interfere. I
had
to tell Mom and Dad what was going on because it seemed that Nathan had taken a liking to that tall, smoky-eyed girl for some reason, and had no intention of trying to stop what he continually referred to as her abuse. The thing was that one day those boys were going to grow tired of playing games with him, and Nathan was going to get hurt badly.”

Donna closed her eyes growing quiet. I was on pins and needles now, wanting to hear more.
Okay…so tell me about Nathan and this slave girl? What happened!
A growing sniffle, followed by low sorrowful crying, finally broke the silence.

“I’m so sorry, pony, I forgot you need water like I do. I’m so stupid. Michael always calls me that. I know everyone else thinks that too.” Donna continued to sniffle pathetically, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Her voice had changed again to that of a young girl. I stared back at her more confused than ever.
Dammit, finish your story
!

“It’s all my fault you got sick, pony. I forgot you get tired like normal people, I feel so bad.” Donna hit the top of her leg with her fist.
What the hell’s wrong with her? Why is she acting so weird again?
The sudden switching of her personality, of her reverting back to a child came with no warning. I was beginning to wonder if this sort of thing happened often, if maybe her ‘old self’ broke through on occasion, remembering who she once was?

“Nathan says you’re his friend and he likes you, trusts you. He said I should trust you too, but I hurt you. You’re a good pony, Margo.”
Nathan said that?
He’d confided in her that much, in regards to our taboo relationship?

Donna hit herself again, harder this time, splashing me in the face. Her expression was one of pure anguish. “I’m so stupid!” She hit herself again, working into a steady rhythm of self-abuse. I caught her wrist in mid air, and she turned her tear-streaked face towards me.

“Let go, Michael told me I should punish myself when I’m bad. I’ve been a stupid, bad girl, let go!” She pulled against me, but her strength was nothing compared to mine.

My heart went out to Donna, seeing just a glimpse of what her life must have been like, what she’d gone through for all those years before Nathan arrived.

“You’re not a bad girl, Donna.” I thought I would try and reason with her on a level she could understand. I hoped so at least. “You’re a very nice girl, a good girl. Please, stop hitting yourself.”

“No, I’ve been bad, I’m a stupid girl, a stupid slutty girl just like Michael says I am. You’re Nathan’s friend and I hurt you, now let go, I have to punish myself!” She began hitting herself again with her free hand until I grasped that one just as quickly, deciding on a different approach.

“What would your brother say if he saw you doing this to yourself? Do you want me to tell him what you’re doing?” Her face contorted in a mask of stark terror.

“No, please, Margo pony, don’t tell Nathan! Michael said if I ever told him stuff again he would hurt me, hurt me like he used to.” She was quickly working herself into a crazed frenzy with all her thrashing about. “Please, pony, no, I don’t want to be hurt like that again.”

That son of a bitch…
“Okay, I won’t tell Nathan, just calm down Don… Mistress, okay?” Donna swallowed hard, continuing to sniffle, nodding hesitantly.

“If I let go of your hands, will you stop hitting yourself? I won’t tell if you stop hitting, deal?” More sniffles followed, with another nod. I slowly released her wrists, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks with trembling fingers.

I shook my head in a woeful gesture; it
was
just like talking with a child when trying to reason with her. It must be terribly hard on Nathan at times. “I’m okay, Mistress, you didn’t hurt me. I think maybe I ate some bad food was all, it wasn’t your fault. I’m all better now, see?” I still felt like crap, but nowhere near as bad as she did at the moment. I could deal with it, and would for her.

“I want to go home, pony. I don’t want to play anymore.” Donna rose from the pool, collecting her discarded clothes, and I followed suit, reluctantly leaving its comfort in exchange for my hot, sweat-soaked gear again. I quickly grew frustrated with the whole notion of dressing myself; it was a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be.