Mistress AC-0002

T here was so much going through my head. So many things I needed to do. Women. Where I used to be a devoted advocate, I learned they weren't to be trusted. Not the majority, anyway. I had spent years of my life helping and building them up, saving them , only to watch the women I was closest to betray me. Hurt me. Women. Yes, I wasn't a fan. Men were conniving and manipulative, but women were capable of an entirely different level of evil. Melissa. Elaine. My mother . I wasn't sure who I wanted to torture first. I wanted to hear them beg me for mercy. I wanted to take my time making them pay for their greed and deceit so they could feel pain like I did. And God did I feel it. The agony was eating me from the inside out. It was all I knew lately.

"Cheer up, baby. This is our weekend of fun. Let's find you an outlet to unleash this anger."

"I can think of a few outlets I wouldn't mind having."

Jack slowed us as we stepped outside of the elevator. I was fuming, still ready to argue and rage out after my talk with Elec. My need to make Elaine and my mother pay was always there. Even my hate for Melissa was always close. But to know that Elaine may get to come here. To my place of fun… No . I didn't like that. Then, Melissa, possibly messing with my cousin's mind—our future here?

An aggravated sound between a growl and a deep groan left me.

I wasn't meant to be powerless. I wasn't okay with sitting back and doing nothing. It would be so easy for me to produce answers. Ones that didn't have to wait on letting things ‘play out'. Fuck that. I couldn't stand the thought of letting entitled, egotistical people continue to get their way. It wasn't fair the roles they had. My mother, the ruler of all important things with the women in our elite world. Elaine, a role model for the Janes'. Melissa LaRoe? Bitch. The redheaded cunt only had to flutter her lashes and men went stupid for her. Single. Married. It didn't matter. Rich. Good looking …them too. Women were the same under her influence.

No one in their right mind would have given her a glance had she not mastered the ability to fuck with their heads. They saw what she wanted them to. They believed whatever she said. Not only did they move the world at her words, but they would have destroyed it if only she asked.

Idiots.

"Georgie?"

Another sound left me as I blinked away the daze my need for revenge kept me in. I glanced up to Jack, pouting.

"It's not fair. None of it."

"Life isn't usually fair."

We're the bad guys, but they're the ones who make us this way. Even bad, there's nothing I can do to them. I'm over it. I'm ready for bed."

"You don't want to stop by the Batting Cage to knock holes in a few skulls? Percy might still be there. I believe that's where he was going."

My lips drew back with my increasingly bad mood.

"I've seen enough of him tonight. Can you believe Elec might let Elaine join us? And no deal with Gilbert . It's too much. I don't care what he says. I can't get over the Elaine part. Letting her in the Gardens is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"We have to trust that your cousin knows what he's doing. Maybe he'll let her in. Maybe he won't. He's only thinking about it right now. Let's see what happens. Besides, you're good friends with Kayla. That's her half-sister. They have a right to meet each other."

"But not here. This is our space."

Jack shrugged, and I leaned into him, wrapping around his waist as I rested my head on his chest. We took slow steps back to our apartment. I was still pouting as a voice in the distance had me turning around.

"Don't tell me I've missed all the fun."

A sigh of relief left me.

"Jenson. Oh, thank God. Finally, someone with some sense."

Jack chuckled lowly behind me as Master Four-Ninety-One approached. "It's a little late for you to be up and about. Didn't you buy a new slave tonight?"

The dark-haired judge smiled bigger at my husband's question, pushing his hands in his pockets. He was in all black: black jeans, black long sleeve shirt. I knew what that meant.

"She thinks I've been called out by the Main Master to discuss business, but I've already had my fun. I can't go back yet. I'm not sure about this one."

"Not sure? What do you mean?"

What I could only describe as a tinge of sadness had his gaze dropping as he blinked thoughts through.

"Sloan. Seven-Twenty-Seven, my old slave, she was…she was good. Not so much at the end. She got smart about what was going on. Maybe for some time, but I thought." He stopped. "This new one just aggravates the shit out of me. I thought she'd be perfect for my game, but she doesn't cry the way I need her to. She doesn't scream or beg like Sloan used to. All I want to do is decimate my new slave until she breaks, but it would take too much to get her that way. I'll kill her if I try, and then I'll have to wait too long before the next auction."

I held in the smile and excitement, looking between Jack and Jenson. A woman I could hurt. One I could destroy if I had my way. Not that I thought Jenson would let me get very far, but it could be something.

"I don't mean to step on any toes, but…can I try. Please? "

"To make her cry?"

Jenson's brow was creased as he gazed at me.

"Not just cry. I'll make her fear an environment where you don't exist. I'll show her what a true nightmare can be. All I need is fifteen minutes. Let me break her shell, and then the tears will flow with anything you want to try. She'll plead for your protection. She'll beg that you don't leave her alone. And when your rapist comes to her…she'll cower and scream like a baby for her Master."

Silence.

The hunger in Jenson's eyes had me licking my lips.

"You can do that? I've beat her damn near unconscious. How will you crack her shell?"

Jack's hands slid from my hips as I stepped forward, reaching to the back of Jenson's neck to lower his ear level with my lips.

"There are things far scarier than brute force. Pain is home for those of us who have lived it, but not all pain is the same. Let me help. You let me with Sloan. Let me cripple this new one's body and her mind."

"Not physically, though."

I laughed, kissing Jenson on the cheek.

"Of course not. How will she kneel at your feet if she can't even walk?"

He was back to smiling, and me…I was ready to do what I did best: destroy people.

Masks. I loved masks. It was another world. I was another person. Not Georgetta, the daughter of Gabriella the Legend. No. I was a monster. I was a nightmare. That had to be why I connected so well with Jenson. He was like me. When he put his rapist mask on, he wasn't what he'd been born into. He wasn't the white knight he enjoyed being whenever it was off. When my mask was on, I wasn't the social butterfly. I wasn't the eccentric, queen bee hostess of our group. I loved his games. I loved the way he fucked with his slave's minds. It was magnificent. Awe-inspiring, really.

"W-who are you? W-who? Help…me?"

The brunette-haired young woman was lying nude, handcuffed to the bed, and growing more conscious as I got closer. Dry blood trailed from her mouth, down one side of her face, and the bruising over her cheek was already a dark purple. It drew me forward in fascination.

He'd done well, choosing her. Her beauty was exquisite. From her luscious, thick hair to her pale green eyes, she was a magnet for everything she shouldn't have been. No doubt she'd faced more trial and hardship than most. After all… she had found her way here . She was a bait for the bastards if I'd ever seen it. Lure to the lowlife pedophiles, no doubt breaking their necks to get some sort of glance or touch where they could as she'd grown up. No…she wouldn't break easy. Not from any beating Jenson hoped to give.

"Mistress? You're a-a Mistress, right? I see your hair. The mask. I won't tell anyone you're here. I…" Her body shifted on the bed as she tried to get closer to me. Trust. Longing. I saw it in her as I got even closer. "Please. Help me. I've been raped. Some attacker?—"

I withdrew my knife, watching as her lips parted in what could have only been betrayal. Stealthily, she pulled down at her restrained hands in the panic I knew she was starting to feel. It was one thing to fear a man. She'd probably had to do that more times than I could have guessed. But to fear a woman with a weapon not aimed for the sort of harm she was used to…I doubted she'd been faced with someone of her own sex. At least to the magnitude I was about to sink to.

" You know ," I said, lowly. "You can try to wiggle your hands out of those cuffs all you want, but you're not a stupid girl. It's pointless. You're stuck. I'm not here to help you. I'm here to make you scream."

"Please, Mistress. I…I'm not yours. Where's my Master? …I want my Master."

"He's busy, and he can't help you. Do you think he'll be upset when he finds out what I've done? That man who just visited you—hurt you…he's mine. Did you know that? Your Master." I paused, soaking in every emotion on her face, letting the words flow free. "He's also mine. Although, I haven't told him yet."

"Who are you?"

"Don't worry about that. You and I are going to play a little game."

I reached down, grabbing the cuffs at the bottom of the bed. The slave's eyes widened, and she immediately drew up her knees to bring her thighs up towards her chest. The blood on the sheet and the bottom of her ass was evident. She'd either been a w 1 , or Jenson had gotten her good.

"First rule. I only ask once. If you don't obey me, my points are doubled. You either lower your legs, or you'll pay for it twice as much."

"P-Please."

A sob left her, and I didn't speak as I waited. Seconds passed as her lip trembled and tears raced down her face. She was torn. Terrified. More…she was traumatized by what she'd already been through. I could see it by the size of her pupils. By the constant shaking of her body. It was more than the oil she'd been influenced by during the auction. Jenson had done more damage than he'd known. But that still wouldn't help her. It was her reactions he wanted, not necessarily her mindset.

"I see you're not a fast learner." I glanced at my knife. "We'll have to do this the hard way."

"Wait!"

Real emotion trembled through her words as she screamed them out. It had a smile wanting to come. She feared me maybe more than him, but only because she was starting to see the reality of how doomed she was. Males. Females. Here…she wasn't safe with anyone. Yes. Double trauma within hours, erasing all possibility of hope from any side. Her mind was fragile, rewiring through her need for survival, and I would use that to my advantage.

"I'm waiting. I see no feet before me."

"Why are you doing t-this?"

I tossed the cuffs on the bed, watching the slave flinch as I made my way around the side, closest to her. When I sat on the edge of the mattress, her shoulders drew in, but she didn't try to attack. Her round eyes kept coming to my knife, and she was still twisting her wrists over her head as she kept in a fetal position.

"Have you ever wanted something so bad that it drove you crazy, slave?"

Her lip trembled.

"I've watched your Master through these auctions. All he wants is to be happy. To have someone love him. Trust him. Respect him. Adore him . And that's all I really want for him too. After all, I am incapable of what he really needs. Are you? I bet you can't even love. I bet you can't give your entire existence to one person. Don't worry, I can't either, so that makes us even. But that doesn't fair well for you because in that, you're doing nothing to meet your Master's most desired needs. I could do what you're capable of. Feed him. Obey him. Fuck him. What makes you better than me?"

Her mouth opened, only to shut at my question. She looked confused and at a loss for words.

"You're not better," I exploded. "Where you don't have a dime to your name, I am filthy rich. I assure you, I am more beautiful than you. I am everything he needs, minus one…big…thing. Do you want to guess what that is?"

Seconds passed as the slave's gaze lowered. Her eyes went back and forth, as though she were going over every word I spoke.

"You're not a slave. You won't lower yourself to that role. You said he wants all those things…to be worshipped?"

"Close," I bit out. "A word is a word unless actions bring it to life. To merely worship consists of time, devotion. You must trust in everything he needs or says. When he gives an order, you obey: body, sight, voice, or mind. When he's in your presence, you act like nothing else exists. If he tells you to slit your own throat, you ask him how deep. I don't think you're capable of a role so demanding. You're too tough to be a slave. You were a bad buy."

"No." The slave sniffled. "I wasn't."

"That you're arguing with me says you are."

"But—" Her voice cracked, and a sob sent her coughing as she attempted to hold it in. I straightened my spine, letting her question sit heavily in the air between us. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Kill you? Why would I have to do that? By the time I get done, your Master will want to do that all on his own."

Seconds passed as she searched the mask I wore, going between my eyes. Her lips were still quivering uncontrollably, but she wouldn't break. She was trying so hard to be strong. It had me shaking my head as I turned more in her direction. The bed shifted, and as if I'd pulled the trigger on a gun, the movement had one of her legs shooting out towards me. It was all I needed.

Grabbing her ankle, I stood, throwing my weight forward enough to pin her down. It didn't stop her from going wild underneath me. But it was all too easy. I dug my thumb into the pressure point in her shoulder, angling my blade into her throat as her high-pitched scream turned to a sob.

"Oh, you're a feisty one. Being a fighter won't help you here. And not just with me . At the Garden's, babygirl, your fight is pointless. You are a slave. A slave! Your loyalty is key. Did training teach you nothing? Pride doesn't exist. Any sense of self you feel should be gone. Grovel. Scream at the top of your lungs. Show me you want to live. Let me hear you beg for mercy."

Harder, I dug into the sensitive area. Her body locked underneath me, and blood curdling-screams once again echoed from the walls. I could feel a shadow in the doorway. I knew I piqued Jenson's curiosity. After all, this is what he wanted. What he needed.

"Again. Scream again."

If she thought I didn't have much more power, she was wrong. I shifted my weight, digging in so hard that I prayed the muscle would tear under my force. Her body went rigid with the deafening yells. I didn't stop. I went to the next point, and the next, crippling her with pain so intense, she was fighting for enough air to even scream.

"Good. Fucking. Girl. And here I thought you were incapable of making me happy. Your screams are the only reason I continue to let you breathe. When you stop screaming for me or your rapist, you're as good as dead. Because he'll be back to make sure you're making me happy. Now, tell me. Do you remember when you were a child?"

I lifted the smallest amount, and the young woman's cries were steady as her swollen eyes fixed on me.

"Was it childhood? Were you a teen? Was it both? You were hurt by a man at some point, weren't you?"

At the hesitation, I reached back for the junction between her shoulder and neck, watching as she jolted in terror.

"Get off of me! Help!"

I dove forward, burrowing my thumb back in deep as she began to scream again.

"Answer, or I stick my knife in instead and carve you up."

"T-teen. P-Please."

"See how simple. I ask. You answer."

"I w-want?—"

"Big mistake. You're not allowed to want."

The tip of my knife drug against her skin, dipping into the hollow point of her throat. A high pitch sound left her as I moved towards her collar bone, pressing in just enough to break the skin and destroy any subconscious trust she may be holding concerning my sex. Once I began cutting, I drug it down a good inch until she was trying to jerk and turn from the blade.

"Ahhh! No, please! Master. "

"Your pleas go unheard. He's not here. He can't help you."

"I don't want this. Mistress!"

"Tonight, you're going to learn. What did I tell you?" I reached over, twisting and snapping one of her fingers. The screams that came with the break made my ears ring. I gripped the back of her neck hard as I leveled the blade back to her chest, cutting into her skin. "You're a slave! Your station doesn't allow you a mind of your own. You obey, no matter what. I guess I'm going to have to show you that too. Do you know what I want?"

A loud sound mixed with a sob as I stopped between her cleavage and poked the tip in. Blood immediately surfaced.

"Mistress—"

"Answer. What do I want?"

"Him." Another sob. "M-My Master."

I smiled, glancing towards the door. Jenson was barely in view, shifting back and forth. There was an animal in his eyes. One he could barely contain as he motioned me.

Already?!?

"You're only half right. Like I said before, I want him to be happy. I don't think you're capable of making that happen. If I cut off your breasts?—"

" No! I can. I-I can make him happy. I can be a g-good slave."

"Such perfect breasts. He won't like you without them."

"Please. Please."

I bit my lip, tracing the knife over the generous flesh, moving towards her nipple. She made a guttural cry, trying to hold still, but she couldn't stop that dreaded shaking.

"Let's practice. Scream. Do it as if I'm in the apartment next door, and your life depends on it." I leaned in. " Because maybe I am, and I'll be listening to whether or not you're obeying. Your life depends on your ability to be weak. Not strong, slave. Scream ."

"Mistress." She paused to sob. "M-Mistress, I…beg you. Ahhhh! No! Ahhhhh!"

The volume increased as I pushed into her breast, just enough to make crimson run a river over the light brown of her areola.

"There we go. I do believe you're catching on. Now tell me I have nothing to worry about with you. You want to live, right? I think you might have learned something tonight."

"I'll—slave. I'll be. I can be the best s-slave. I can…I will?—"

My eyes almost rolled as the trauma and fear quickly began shutting down her speech. Between me and Jenson's previous assault, the slave was in shock. She was skirting the edge of fainting, but I wasn't going to let her go under.

"The best slave, huh?"

"I, yes. I-I."

"You promise? Do you give me your word? I'd hate to have to come back so soon. Because I will?—"

"No! Word, yes. Promise. I p-promise. Scream. I-I. Word."

My gaze narrowed through the carving across her stomach.

MINE.

Yes, Jenson's rapist. His rapist loved to mark his territory, but it was all part of the game. All part of the battle this girl had no idea had started tonight.

"I'll tell you what, little slave." I holstered my knife, moving my free hand to trace over the letters. "I think I'm going to give you a chance. But remember—" I slapped her hard. "Listen good. This mark here, your rapist may have made it, but he did so for me. Every time you see it, know I'm watching. I'm listening . Know that if you're not giving your Master the love and devotion he needs, we'll be back. Next time, you're not going to like what happens. Honey, come in here, please."

Movement had the girl looking over and immediately going into a fit of screams. Jenson had the black mask back on. It covered everything but holes for his dark brown contact-covered eyes and mouth. The slave was going wild next to me, jerking at her arms and trying to break free.

"Listen to me. Slave ."

I slapped her again, and this time her eyes stayed wide. She didn't blink. She stayed in a trance of horror as her gaze jerked between us.

"You better live up to your word. Best fucking slave. Best slave or cutting off your breasts will be nothing compared to what I'll do. I'll come back and make him rape you until you have no barrier between your pussy and ass. I'll shove my fist up there and rip your insides out, myself."

Climbing from the bed, I left a room of continuous cries and sobs. The moment I got in the living room and ripped my mask free, Jenson's mouth met mine. It was half gratitude, half lust. He didn't say a word as he met Jack's stare head-on, but he didn't have to. He owed me one, and when the right time came, I'd collect.