Currency in Flesh

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I stopped by the shop with the candles, a bookstore where I found a copy of my favorite fantasy series, and picked up a wild-looking bouquet and vase from a florist who carried flowers that could never have all grown in one season in the real world. Everyone was nice, but I kept thinking about the nameless barista and what that meant for the rest of the people here. Lady Cora had mentioned the souls in the isles, and how they generally spent a rather short time there. Did people stay in the meadows so long they forgot who they had been? That didn’t seem like a good afterlife. I couldn’t imagine wanting to work for all time at a basic, boring job—until I literally forgot who I was. What purpose did that serve? Sure, plenty of people liked their jobs, and Lady Cora had said that those in the meadows did what they wanted, but had that woman’s entire life faded away until all she knew was how to make lattes? Is that what she’d have wanted?

I didn’t realize how long or in what direction I’d been walking until a gruff, male voice stopped me. Turning, I saw the man from the bar, Charis ?

“Interesting, that she lets you wander all over,” he said in a voice like gravel. “Last I saw, you were locked in a room without doors.”

I couldn’t tell if he was being nice or critical, so I tried to keep my reply casual. “I’m just as surprised as you,” I said. “I was bored, and the walls opened and let me out.” Something tugged at my thoughts, but I couldn’t quite get ahold of it.

Even with his long, scraggly beard, I could see his jaw flex. “Bored?” he asked, sounding more surprised than irritated.

I shrugged. “It isn’t like there is much to do.”

His answering chuckle held no mirth. “Lucky you, I’ve got plenty to do. More than I’d like, in fact.” I hadn’t expected him to sound particularly eloquent. He looked like a rough man from a rough life, but he spoke like one of Sean’s business buddies and it put me on edge. Usually, conversations like this led to all the ways I could help , which usually included things I neither wanted to, nor felt safe doing. My pulse quickened with that old fear thrumming in my chest.

“Well,” I threaded my tone with nonchalance, “guess I’ll be getting out of your hair, then!”

He adjusted his ball cap, looking at me from beneath heavy, wiry brows. “You know, in the last three centuries, she’s never kept anyone.”

“What?” The statement takes me by surprise.

“I’ve never been instructed to bring a soul to anywhere other than the pit or the meadows. After you drank of the river, I brought you to her personal bedchamber and was tasked with watching you until you awoke.”

I didn’t recall having been in her bedroom when I arrived, but maybe the place I regained consciousness in was her sitting room or something. But still, what did it even matter? Charis must have read my expression, because he gave me a small shrug. “I don’t have any answers. But clearly, the boss thinks something of you, and if I was in that position, I’d be mindful of what I was doing with my time.”

What did he think I’d been doing? It’s not as though Lady Cora couldn’t see for herself that I was behaving or whatever he was implying. “I’m not doing anything wrong,” I said a bit defensively. “I’m sure she knows that.”

He tapped a gnarled finger against his temple. “If she was watching you all the time, she wouldn’t have advised us to keep an eye on you. I’m just saying, even my brothers and I do not have free rein in the Underworld.” He turned, pushing aside a curtain of reality like Lady Cora had, and he was gone.

I didn’t think I’d ever get used to that.

I had hoped to occupy my mind with easy pleasantries by leaving, but now I felt even more confused and frustrated than I had been before. What was her game here? She had laid some sort of claim upon me, but gave me this unexpected freedom. She had honored my request to stay out of my head, but still told her lackeys to spy on me. She hadn’t touched Sean, letting me have the opportunity to do to him whatever I wished, even though his debt had been to her. She called me her pet and tortured and teased me in equal amounts. What did she want from me?

The path I was walking led me back to the familiar building I knew as mine. However, now there was a door where there had been only a solid wall. Did this mean I wasn’t a captive anymore? The doorknob was warm in my palm and opened to my untouched room. I went through the motions of setting the flowers atop the table, lighting the candles, and pulling one of the blankets from my bed to wrap around myself. The chair I settled into was ridiculously comfortable, but I couldn’t sit still. I slammed my book down with more force than was necessary, and stood, tossing the blanket on the bed in a disheveled heap.

I paced like a wild animal in a cage. Somehow, despite all the evidence of trust she had shown me, I felt less trusting. I didn’t like not understanding people. It had been a big part of why I stayed with Sean, even at the beginning. I wanted to figure him out, find what it is that would make him really love me. Clearly, I never had, and I hated thinking I might be repeating the same mistake here. This felt like manipulation—going from being chained naked to my bed to freely shopping with no chaperone in such a short time. I’d pretty much begged Lady Cora to take me to her bed, and she refused me. If she didn’t want to fuck me or treat me like a pet, there must be some other thing she wanted. Not knowing clawed at me from within.

At last, I gave up my pointless rumination. I didn’t know what time it was, but I’d been awake a long time. I crawled into bed, not bothering to do much more than tug off my jeans and get beneath the covers, and forced my eyes closed. As sleep finally caught up to me, I allowed myself to drift into the black.

Before it all went dark, I heard the sound of breathing from somewhere in the undefined space. I must have been dreaming—I seemed to be suspended in grey nothingness. I still wore my shirt and underwear, which was a good thing I supposed, but there was nothing else I recognized. Again, the sound of someone breathing heavily came from behind me. I attempted to turn, but nothing really happened. I was floating like a fucking goldfish.

However, as the ragged breaths grew louder, everything began to swirl and shift. I saw flashes of faces—Sean, my mother, my best friend from college, Lady Cora, the woman from the coffee shop—and I opened my eyes once more and found myself in the slate tile shower of my old bathroom.

Lady Cora’s breasts pressed against my nude back, and the hot water cascaded over both of us. Her lips grazed my ear before finding their way to my neck. My head fell back, giving her more access, and she nibbled and sucked at my damp skin. I felt her hand slide around my hip and slip between my thighs, parting the drenched flesh and rubbing firm circles against my clit. “Yes, please,” I groaned, rolling my hips in time with her fingers. Just as I was about to come, her other hand snaked up to my throat, pressing against the sides and restricting my air. I detonated, my legs nearly giving out beneath me as I cried out her name.

Sudden, sharp pain tore me from sleep. I screamed, swinging my arms wildly, hoping to fight off whatever attacker had found me, but I hit nothing but empty air. As my mind began to clear, I realized someone had me by the hair. “Let me go!” I yelped as my combatant’s grip tightened and agony spread across my scalp.

“So quickly you forget,” Lady Cora whispered. Immediately, I ceased struggling.

“What?”

Her fingers wrapped around my wrist, yanking my hand down and in front of my face. Still confused, I sucked in a breath—preparing to ask what I had done—and it hit me like a truck. I could smell my arousal on my fingers, and knew I must have touched myself in my sleep.

“I was asleep!” I pleaded. “I specifically went out today to keep myself from… doing that.”

“Your body says otherwise. Are you truly so desperate?”

Indignation heated my face. I wasn’t desperate, I was frustrated. “Well, not everyone got off yesterday,” I snapped. “You’ve been teasing me since I got here.”

She spun me around and I floundered, crawling through the tangle of blankets on my hands and knees. She wore a skintight black mini dress and Louboutin’s I recognized as their nearly five-inch stilettos, the So Kate model. “That sounded suspiciously like a complaint,” she replied in a dangerously low voice. “Are you displeased with your treatment here, pet?”

I shook my head, averting my eyes to stare at where my hands pressed into the mattress and the long line of her leg where she stood before me. “No. I’m sorry, Lady Cora. I really didn’t mean to, truly.”

“Regardless,” she began, “you defied a direct command. I was quite clear—you do not touch yourself again. Ever.”

“I won’t do it again, Lady Cora,” I promised.

I lifted my eyes to see a wicked smile spreading across her crimson lips. “Oh, I know.”

I was not surprised that she dragged me forward. I staggered, nearly falling as I tried to find my footing on the cool tile floor. It felt like the skin of my scalp was about to give way, and tears filled my eyes as I stumbled clumsily behind her. “I’m sorry,” I said, and it came out on a whine. I sounded pitiful.

Her tone was flat and held no emotion. It frightened me. “No, you are not sorry yet.”

We rounded a corner and stepped into a large, nearly empty room. There was a large X shaped structure in the center, and candles placed haphazardly around the floor. The glow of the small flames lit the massive X from beneath and it looked far more like the standard image of hell than anything else I had seen so far. I tried to ask what it was, but succeeded only in stuttering a few syllables as Lady Cora wrenched my head to the side with a harsh tug.

“Undress,” she commanded, releasing my hair.

I did. With tears streaming down my furiously red cheeks and shaking hands, I pulled my sweaty tee over my head. Hooking my thumbs beneath the waistband of my satin cheeky briefs, I slid them down my thighs. I didn’t want to anger her any more than I already had, but wasn’t sure what to do with the small bundle of clothes. She snatched them from my hand and they immediately caught flame, incinerating to ashes in the blink of an eye.

She was mad, mad.

I sank to my knees, head bowed before her. She had liked my penitence once, maybe it would be enough now. But the hope was quickly dashed when her smoke-scented hand took hold of my hair once more and pulled me to my feet.

“Turn around,” she snapped, and I complied. Her hands moved with no clemency, securing an assemblage of straps and buckles around my body. She tightened each one with a sharp yank, with the final piece fastening around my throat. The metal was like ice against the skin of my neck, and I heard a click as I felt something attach to it. I gagged as she pulled hard against the collar, spinning me to face her.

I looked down. My breasts and stomach were framed in leather, straps criss-crossing across my chest so my tits stuck out indecently. My waist was cinched smaller than I’d ever seen it, but the plump folds of my stomach were horribly exposed, bound tightly almost to the point of pain. The straps crossed at my neck and met in the center with what felt like a metal ring. In one of Lady Cora’s hands a leash dangled, and in the other she held what I was pretty sure was a whip.

“Oh god,” I breathed as real fear curled up my spine.

“Goddess, actually.” She smirked when she said it, and a flicker of amusement burned in her eyes.

“Yes, Lady Cora,” I replied quickly, hoping it was the right thing to say.

“Highness.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” My voice came out husky, though I couldn’t have explained why. I felt my nipples tighten as her gaze scanned up and down my body.

“Turn,” she said. “Let me see you.” I spun in a slow circle, and she made a low sound of appreciation. “You look good in leather. ”

“Thank you, Highness,” I rasped. My skin felt electric, like every inch of me skittered with static. I was equally terrified and intrigued. Is this what she meant when she asked me if I’d ever been submissive?

She wrapped the leash around her palm with a flick of her wrist and snapped her arm back down, pulling me another foot closer to her. The large X was directly behind, and the glint of candlelight caught on metal rings which hung from the ends of each beam.

“This,” she said, waving the whip toward the structure, “is a Saint Andrew’s cross, crux decussata, or saltire. It has been used for centuries for both crucifixion and pleasure.” When I said nothing in response, she continued. “Were you here by your own request, I would give you a safe word to use if things should become too much. However, you have lost that privilege. Face the cross and raise your arms above your head.”

Still silent, I did, and she secured a leather cuff around each wrist, fastening them to the rings of the cross. She kicked my legs apart, and did the same with my ankles. I was exposed, bound, stretched out, and filled with a tumultuous, roiling sense of anxiety and anticipation. She gave no warning as she struck me, the many braided, knotted strands of leather colliding with my ass in a sharp crack. I cried out, more from surprise than from pain, and she did it again in precisely the same spot. By the fifth strike, the pain was more than I could brave in silence and I let out a noise which might have been a sob. It felt like my skin was about to split, and my breathing had grown rough and jerky—alternating between shallow pants and deep, gulping breaths.

I could see the distorted reflection of my eyes in the metal ring when I allowed my head to fall forward. It looked like melted chocolate, swirling behind unshed tears, and I let myself tumble into the distraction. My body continued to bounce with each hit Her Highness landed against my skin, but I could no longer determine where the impact was happening. The feeling of gravity which had pulled on my arms and shoulders so heavily had eased, and a strange sense of floating washed over me. My lips drifted apart and I let out a light giggle carried on a soft breath. It was as though every anxious thought or painful memory had turned to smoke. Again, I laughed, delirious with the sensation of peace.

Peace.