~ A room for two~

(texte from Nihil)

(to be continued)

Among my many condemned prisoners, I have two young slaves who love each other passionately. She is twenty-five years of age, and he twenty-three. The girl received her death penalty for aggravated insolence, while her beloved - tending to be the heroic type - attempted to save her before she was sent here by offering himself for execution in her stead. As a result, he received the same sentence, and they both await execution here together. The divine Lady Meredith sent them to me for execution four months ago. I must say - this is an extremely long time for condemned slaves to survive in my presence. Ah, but they amuse me so! Generally, I use the girl as a footrest in the living-room, while the boy tends the fireplace. So my little doomed lovers are never very far from each other -though I never actually permit much, if any, contact between them. As previously stated, four months is a bit too long of a period to allow my prisoners to exist. Generally my convicts end up breaking down after few weeks of severe treatment from me -at which point I generally (but not always) choose to dispose of them. As for these two: while I plucked them from their filthy dungeon cells for use as slaves within my household two months ago, they are still quite beyond reprieve. It's a shame, really, to waste such young slaves (all the more so since they are such a pretty couple), and I sometimes consider using my right to invalidate any death penalty - but because I am loathe to be moved emotionally by the tragic plight of any of my playthings, I resolve not to pronounce any pardon before the end of this month. That would be another two weeks yet... And so, a few days prior, in order to goad them into somehow displeasing me (as a little game for my own amusement), I began reducing their food intake by sixty percent. Just a few mere days after which, the naughty girl faints under my feet! Though she remained perfectly still on all fours for two hours as I read magazines and spoke on the phone.
( click on the two pictures to see them)

I had noticed that she grew ever more pale and unsteady, the poor dear. I ordered her to get back into position -only to see her fail again. I did my best to help her by grinding the heel of my Italian designer leather pump into her withering palm, but she would only whimper pitifully! From very near, the boy obviously wanted to help -but I forbade it. The girl is still on the floor. - - If you continue to disobey, darling, I shall execute you tonight. Now, into position! I remand her sharply, smiling a sardonic little smile as I do so. As the piteously malnourished slave struggles, to little avail, I begin to count slowly to ten. One, two, three, for... The boy desperately wants to help her... five, six... ...but I make him understand the risk of such an action with a stern glance and a halting gesture with my hand. Seven, height, nine... Still sitting, with crossed legs as I dangle one gorgeous pump from my silk-stockinged toes, I say calmly to the girl: Ten. - Your time is up, slave. It's over for you. The boy abruptly kneels before me -without begging permission!- and clumsily tries to make me change my mind, pointing out that she's too weak from hunger. - Your pathetic simpering bores me, slave. Never forget that you are sentenced to death, and to be my obedient slave can only be a slight reprieve. You may survive merely as long as I desire you to do so, and then -and only then- will I allow you to die. Understand?!... Now, based upon her inferior performance today, I have decided that your beloved simply doesn't deserve to serve me any longer. She will die now. I see that my cold, dispassionate cruelty makes him tremble with utter, impotent frustration (I tend to induce this kind of reaction from slaves quite often). This only delights me all the more, and a tiny bit of laughter almost betrays my icy façade. He is weak too, for having given a portion of his own rations to her. This sentence is deliberately cruel, and he begins to feel the desperation. With trembling lips and eyes welling with tears, he persists (quite in vain) to convince me of permitting them another chance. What a pitiful display -I love it! I pretend to stifle a yawn and then check my makeup in the mirror of my jeweled golden compact as I enjoy his delicious pleadings. Soon enough, the slave just blubbers incoherently. Too bad, I was actually quite enjoying his deliciously futile little speech. - Well... I will allow you a few moments alone together now while I prepare for the execution, and when I return you will say your final farewells. As ever, I have effortlessly crushed the spirit of yet another helpless slave. I see absolute and complete despair in his moist, sorrowful eyes - he knows I will remain blissfully insensitive to their sufferings. With much-weakened difficulty, he crawls toward me on his hands and knees. I raise my crop, anticipating a delusive fit of anger due to his frustration, but he stops just before my feet and pleads, softly. - Have you no heart, Mistress? If you wish to kill her, then, please, kill us both... Let this torment end at last... Please, Mistress. At first I balk at the insolence of this lowly slave and reject his proposition -only because a convict has never before dared to influence me in any way. However, he repeats his plea. I realize that he is obviously too weak to be of any further use to me, and could not possibly last much longer than the girl anyway... And so, for once, I briefly reconsider... It is exceedingly difficult -if not impossible- for a slave to receive even a trifling bit of mercy from me. This one asks only for his deserved punishment, so perhaps a humiliating gesture of servility should suffice to sway my decision. Once again reclining upon my silk-embroidered divan, I slowly cross my legs and extend my right foot slightly toward the pleading slave - pointing to it with my crop. Of course, he can barely stand being further shamed by the woman who will snuff the life from him and his beloved, and so he averts his gaze in humiliation. How I love this game! With sly amusement, I say to him: - Come now, dear boy, humble yourself before me enough and, perhaps, I just may deign to allow your execution tonight as well! Utterly broken and defeated, he bends down slowly and kisses the bottom of my shoe. Playfully, I turn my ankle just a bit in order to see his tongue working along the glossy leather of my shoe. Bah! His mouth is unclean, so I disallow him to worship my precious shoes any further. - That's enough with my shoe! I'm off to dress for the execution. You may remain together, briefly. When I return, you will be wise to follow me into the execution chamber -and then I shall allow you both to die. Upon rising to make my exit, they fall into each other's waiting arms, and kiss tenderly. On my way, I order a kitchen slave to bring them some solid food, so they won't be too weak to walk behind me when I return. ... to be continued...

(to be continued)