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DevilsReef — Devil's Reef Chapter III
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Published: 2007-08-12 20:08:19 +0000 UTC; Views: 249; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 2
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{Third Entry}When I first met Joshua, I hated him. To some degree, I hate him still. How dare he so casually accept his station, shy and demure, the perfect submissive. Smaller in stature than myself, lean and full of more inner strength than his green eyes would reveal. Well proportioned, if I was to examine him, an attractive man. Short, tussled brown hair, soft to the touch. I hate him.
In the silken robe granted to me, I contemplated my fate as I often do, gazing about the room as if I’d never seen it before. I laid my hand upon a marble column of the bed to be my nest of sin, perhaps for the remainder of my existence. I sat, feeling righteously sorry for myself, when a gentle rapping at the door leapt me out of my skin. Through it peeked that chestnut head, as I did my best to cover myself with the robe and the pillar.
“Oh, hello there,” came a smiling, nervous, voice, as if he did not expect me to be in the room. He was another one of the servants wearing a cloth between his thighs. In his hands he held a tray of food and a guarded package. He closed the door with a bare foot and made his way toward the bed, eyes on his work.
“I bet you’re hungry. The kitchen made some wonderful dishes. Made exclusively for the Master’s most treasured...guests.”
At that moment he looked up, blushing, and gazed, frozen upon me. This infuriated me, though I kept my feelings contained, or rather focused, through my eyes. He caught my glare and immediately looked away, apologizing. For a moment I swore he would break into tears.
“Th-the Master has requested that I bring you your new wardrobe...I hear that he thinks very highly of you.”
He reached for the bundle and placed it on the bed. He refused to look at me.
“I really am very sorry. I did not mean to stare... May I help you with your robe?”
I moved away from him, defensive, still channeling my anger through my eyes. His eyes raised to me, like that of a whipped pup.
“Please let me help. If I do not, the Master will be angry.”
As much as I despised this pathetic creature, I did not wish him the fate his words conjured in my mind. If such a horrible Master as his could do to me out of lust, what dread might his ire entail? I motioned for the servant to turn around, to which he meekly complied, stealing occasional glances, shot away by my glares. I unwrapped the package to find an identical waist ring and two cloths attached to it, front and back, in shimmering, silken ivory. The servant’s eyes widened at it and for a moment lost his submissive stance, racing around the pillar.
“You got a white cloth! Oh, the Master must be very pleased with you! How wonderful! Please, please, put it on!”
At that point I was not sure whether to be shocked at his transformation or mortified at the gift, so I decided to be both. He reached for my robe but I pushed him away. He stared at me in utter confusion, with a new urgency appearing in his face.
“Please...please...put it on! If the Master sees that I have not performed this service for a White Cloth, I’ll be cast down in the underbelly! You must understand...this means that you cannot be touched by anyone but the Master...you are safe...”
Though I had no idea what in the world he was blathering about, my heart went out to him. My own dignity for his salvation.
“Why,” I asked, “must I wear...that. Does your master not have enough flesh for his fill?”
“It is a bit uncomfortable to wear, at first. But once you have it on I can begin explaining.”
Out of spite I dropped the robe to my feet. It almost killed him. He just stood there, his eyes jumping from my chest to my groin to my feet and back up again. His jaw had to hurt from nearly unhinging like it did.
“So put it on me.”
“Huh?”
“If you can only explain how this absurd system of yours works with that thing on me, put it on me.”
He shook his head for his brain to regain normal function and blinked at me. He then realized that one section of his anatomy was watching me more closely than the rest of him and he ducked back behind the pillar, mortified.
“I’m so sorry. I-I’ll be with you in a moment?”
His shy smile struck me funny, and we both had a little laugh. I told him it was all right, but I really did not wish to wear that mockery of a wardrobe. He explained that the cloths are a form of stature, “safe” levels that all servants of the estate must wear. In this room I can keep my robe since I am a “White Cloth,” but any ventures outside the room must be with an escort and in the desired wardrobe, for my own protection. Begrudgingly, I put it on, with his help. He fastened the ring and adjusted the cloths, with a moment to stand there, in such proximity to me, his lips hovered over my chest, his long, soft eyelashes fluttering against my skin. He quickly darted back, ashamed, so I reached out and tussled his hair. He laughed nervously and uttered that his name was Joshua. I returned with my name, which he repeated, I think just to hear it on his own lips.
“So, no one can touch me? Touch me how?”
“None of the other guests. No one but the Master or anyone deemed by the Master can have intimate relations with you on any level. The servants, likely one chosen specifically for you, can bathe, feed, or with the express permission of the Master, please you, but none of the guests of his house may touch you.”
“And that starts right now?”
“Yes.”
“So you couldn’t touch me or anything like that?”
“N-not without your permission or the Master’s.”
I moved over to the food tray, sampling what he had brought me. This helped him relax.
“So what is your job?”
“My job, until I am replaced, is to assist you. I bring you food, I take you to see the Master, I help you bathe, instruct you on the rules of the house, that sort of thing.”
“So you make sure I’m comfortable.”
“As much as possible, yes.”
“But I still make you nervous.”
“I am so sorry about that, I –“
“Don’t be. What would make you less nervous?”
“Nothing, really... it’s just something I need to get used to, I’ve never had to be an assistant before, not even a temporary one...”
“Why you?”
“I keep asking myself that same question...”
He laughed nervously, sitting on the side of the bed, his eyes still shying away from me. I felt terribly exposed in that damned outfit, but his company seemed to make it more bearable. Still sampling the food, I sat over by him.
“This is really good. You want some?”
“Oh no! I couldn’t...I’m not allowed...”
“Oh come on, you must be hungry...it would make me feel better...”
“You won’t tell?”
“Promise.”
“...Some of that dressing then.”
I dipped my finger in it and offered it to him. He stared at it for a moment and wiped some off with his own finger, sticking it in his mouth. He blushed and smiled at me, uncomfortable in the moment. He scooted away a bit.
“Try the rest,” I said, offering my finger full of dressing. In my mind there was an instant of clarity, a question of my own actions. I would never act like this to another man, why was I doing it now? And yet I continued, urging him to take the dressing. He cocked an eyebrow at me and watched me as he crept forward to wrap his honey lips around my finger. An expert tongue slid along my appendage to lap up the dressing, then quietly retreated as Joshua sat up, watching me, on the edge of a bolt, should I decide to take a swing. We sat there, staring at each other, I couldn’t believe what I was doing or understand why.
Unbeknownst to the rest of me, my right hand decided to go on a little journey. I didn’t even realize it until it was slithering up past Joshua’s knee and over the wide bridge of his thigh. Joshua himself was terrified, and I was confused, bordering on terror. My body was acting in contrary to what my mind was telling me. The rest of my body followed in sync with my right hand. I was not sure if Joshua was on the verge of running or crying. Perhaps both.
My fingers crawled up his left thigh, swinging around to his hip. His skin was satin, peppered with goose bumps. My left hand slid up his rippled abdomen as he let out a nervous laugh. I tickled his belly till he squealed and popped me with a pillow. We stopped laughing as I reached for some more food. He reached over and gently took my hand, pulling it away from the tray. His face was guilty for some reason, or perhaps just embarrassed at our behavior. He licked and chewed his lip, looking at me as his fingers caressed mine. As I pulled away Joshua’s face reddened, his body shrinking back in shame.
“What is it?”
“N-nothing. Nothing.”
“I’m sorry... I do not know where that came from...”
“The food.”
“What?”
“The food. They... put stuff in it... I don’t know what...”
I felt my body shaking with fury as I watched the terror in Joshua’s eyes. I backed away from the bed in an attempt to comprehend it all. Joshua scurried to the other side, whisking the tray away to the bar. At once I was infuriated with him for saving the tainted meal, when it should be scattered across the room. He knew. He knew it was tainted and yet he allowed me to take it, to touch him, the whore.
“You little bitch.”
His back was against the bar, shielding his poison treats from my wrath. He had a frightened, determined look on his face as he intended to salvage the food but was unsure how. I stalked him, dotting my gaze from the tray to his face. I tried not to look into his eyes, however. Those jeweled pools seemed to appeal to me, his soft, curled lashes beckoning. I shook my head, slightly bewildered at the images brought to my mind. I made my way to Joshua, his arms spread in front of the bar as though he’d been shackled to the sides. I towered over him, meeting him at the top of his chest. His eyes slid from my own to gaze up the pectorals before him, heaving with quiet fury. I reached out around him, my body pinning him to the bar. Something stirred. It was him. I shot him a look, gazing momentarily toward the area of the developing erection. I reached for the food again, my chest sliding against his shoulder. Something stirred again, but it wasn’t his genitals. This was something more. Joshua shuddered once, then leapt at me. His lips in my face, his hands locked themselves under my arms, over my shoulders and into my hair. He had a powerful little body, his ankles nearly locking with his knees around my waist. I was more confused than hostile, stumbling back before losing my footing. We tumbled to the floor, rolling to the lowered level. I fought in vain to dislodge Joshua in his affectionate attacks but in truth, I was beginning to enjoy it, although not knowing why. Finally, I screamed for him to stop, to which he froze.
We lay there, panting, still locked in the torrid embrace. Joshua appeared confused, like he didn’t know where he was or why he was here. I was bewildered as well, remaining on the floor as he scrambled away from me to the step. Panicked, he looked at me, tears streaming down flushed cheeks. Curious, I began to move toward him on the floor. He cowered and buried his head in his hands. I went to him, sitting there on the step, holding him in my arms and his body shuddered from the weight of hot tears. I felt odd on that step, comforting a man I had meant to harm, realizing that this would probably be the least amount of discomfort I would experience in my tenure here.
Joshua kept apologizing through his sobs, curled up in my arms, his head on my lap. I tried to imagine how such a fragile thing came to be in this place. I toyed with his soft locks to soothe him. The step was becoming terribly uncomfortable to my exposed buttocks, so I gently coaxed him to the love seat nearby. He wouldn’t look at me, just nodded and complied. There we sat, curled up in dress pillows and semi-hard cushions, my arms still around him and his in my lap. His weeping had diminished, still I continued to whisper comforts and play with the silk tussles on his head.
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