The Decimation of Mae (The Blue Butterfly) (8 page)

“Get out,” she ordered Frank.

He shook his head frantically as his eyes swept from me
to Demi, who brandished the stick she was going to teach me a lesson with. “M…Master
won’t t...tolerate this, D…Demi.”

Demi scoffed and smiled arrogantly. “I’m sure he’ll
forgive me. After all, the rancid rat hurt his baby.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. The bitch had planned it all
along. I realised as Frank quietly lowered his face and walked from the room
that I had played right into her hands. I was a fool. I always had been. Even
after everything, I still held onto the hope that one day someone somewhere
would actually like me, love me even. And yet, even though my life was nearly
over, my hopes were always buried under the taunt of hopelessness.

Demi pulled in a large breath and smiled at me, her eyes
glistening in delight as she raised the baton above her head. “Let’s get to
know one another a little better, rat.”

I closed down after she rained carnage, the pain in my
body too intense with her malicious hits. She didn’t just beat me; she battered
and crushed me in her explosion of fury. She screamed with every strike,
blanketing my own cries as the agony rendered me almost numb.

Oblivion took my mind to a better place after she moved
behind me and crashed the stick into the back of my knees, jolting my wrists
and snapping my joints at the pressure.

However, I didn’t lose consciousness until I heard Frank
re-enter and force Demi’s wrath upon himself. Each of his cries scorched my
heart as he took the punishment for me.

The sear that ran through my skull was crippling, its
intensity debilitating. Panic surged through me as sickness threatened to choke
me. It had never been this bad, the torment this time was excruciating.

I moaned as I turned my face to the side, my body
refusing any movement, then released the explosive illness clogging my throat,
vomit trickling down my cheek.

I heard soft footfalls on carpet but my eyes refused to
open, not daring to risk more torture.

I murmured a groan when a cool cloth swept over my mouth,
gently collecting the remnants of my illness as delicate fingers brushed the
hair from my face, perspiration gluing it to my hot skin.

“Sshhh.”

“Mmm.” I couldn’t speak any more thanks and hoped my
nurse understood my gratitude.

“Sleep, lamb.”

I stiffened, the simple action tearing explosions through
my brain. I blew out a harsh breath at the throb when I struggled to open my
eyes. My heavy eyelids squealed furiously as I battled with their stubborn
refusal to cede to my demand.

Master’s face slowly came into focus as he perched beside
me on the bed. He was minus his customary suit jacket, just a crisp, light blue
shirt covering his impressive torso. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows
and the top two buttons were open, giving me a glimpse of fine dark hair.

“Sleep, Mae,” he repeated more sternly.

I stared at him, however my gaze
was soft as I relayed my message of thanks to his tendering. He replied in
understanding with a faint nod, his dark chocolate eyes melting into me. He was
the most handsome man I had ever bore witness to in my short twenty one years.
If he was a nice person he would have been truly magnificent, many women I
estimated, fighting for his attention. But his cruel personality masked the
beauty, made it irrelevant.

Another surge of fire shot across the crown of my head
and I instinctively brought my hands up to my head to cradle the pain. My knees
bent as I pulled my legs up to my chest to protect myself from the torture.

“Is it unbearable?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Mmm,” I mumbled sharply as I squeezed my eyes closed. I
gagged at the pain, concentrating on my breathing like I’d been shown at the
pain clinic but it was useless this time. “Need – meds.”

“I’m afraid I can’t grant access to your own, Mae, but Dr
Galloway will be here shortly.”

“What?”

“Just try and sleep, Mae… please.”

I gulped and reopened my eyes, fighting against the pain
to look at him. Did he know? Was he aware of
it
? “Why have you called a
doctor?” My voice was slurred but coherent.

His eyebrow lifted. “Do you really need to ask, Mae?”

“I need to…” I hissed and shuddered as a bolt of white
hot pain shot through the front of my skull causing my lips to tremble at the
agony.

“Mae,” Master snapped harshly. “Close your eyes and
refrain from any more talk. Your body is beaten too much, and your blood
pressure is raised causing pressure on your brain which in turn is aggravating
your Glioma.”

I wheezed at his words, my heart stuttering as my brain
struggled to cope with his knowledge. “You know?” I forced out, gritting my
teeth as the movement of my jaw pounded my head.

He snapped upright, his fury now palpable in the quiet
room. “I shall not ask again, lamb. Your disobedience is giving me cause to
want to hurt you. We both know you are in no fit state to take any more right
now. I will return when Dr Galloway arrives. Until then, I suggest you heed my
wishes if you value your peace.”

If I could have opened my eyes I would have glared at
him, the arrogant fucker.
‘I suggest you heed my wishes if you value your
peace.’
Who the hell spoke like that? In fact as I thought more about him,
the more complex his dialogue appeared. He was always longwinded in his speech
instead of getting to the point like most of us. His words were complex and
intelligent, his accent privileged and almost snooty.

I curled my lip in answer. What – the – fuck – ever! I
couldn’t be arsed with him.

My lip curled higher when I noticed the immense
difference in our vocalisations, my mouth in the gutter and his wrapped in
silver.

Ahh, fuck him. I was Mae Swift, and no one, not even a
Master with a penchant for cruelty would ever change that.

It was light when I next woke. Voices filled the quiet
and I left my eyelids in place, listening to the conversation.

“Are there no other drugs available?” Master asked.
“Something of greater potency?”

A male sigh echoed around the room. “There are but they are
expensive, Daniel.”

“Give them to her.”

A pause stilled the air. I could sense who I presumed to
be Dr Galloway’s shock. “To what limit?”

“There are no limits. Treat her tumour and her pain.”

“If you’re sure?” The doctor sighed.

“Don’t question me, Philip. It is none of your concern.
Your only role is to make her more comfortable.”

I whimpered when something scratched at my upper arm. A
deep sensation of utter calm and serenity took me into the blackness.

“Drink,” a soft female voice ordered as soon as I opened
my eyes. A middle-aged, portly woman smiled softly at me, lines appearing beside
her eyes. “How are you feeling, love?”

My headache had eased to a dull throb, and my body ached
but nothing compared to how much it had hurt before. “Sore.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down over my body. I was
surprised to find I was clothed, a long, soft pink nightdress covering my
modesty. “Mmm.” That was all she murmured as she helped me up to lean on the
bedhead.

“How long have I… been out?”

She sighed as she poured water from a jug into a crystal
glass. “Around two weeks on and off.”

My eyes widened as I sipped at the water she held to my
lips, greedily enjoying the luxury of the cool liquid soothing the burn in my
throat.

“Are you hungry?”

I nodded. She replied with a smile as she lifted off the
bed. “Soup?”

“Yes,” I whispered, stunned at how things had rapidly
changed. “Please.”

Her smile grew with my manners, her wide, toothy grin
motherly and comforting. “I’ll be right back.”

She closed the door behind her and I glanced around the
room. This wasn’t my room. It was softer, the colours muted and easier than
where I had slept before. Huge rose coloured curtains hung from the window, the
delicate floral pattern matching both the bed linen and the soft furnishings
decorating the room.

I gasped when my gaze landed on a mural of sorts
decorating the longest wall. Butterflies, thousands of them, flittered over the
paintwork, a rainbow of colours and a pattern of wings instantly drawing me in.

I lowered my feet to the floor, grimacing at the dull pain
through my beaten body as I pushed myself upright and shuffled across the room.
My legs wobbled but I put it down to the seizure of unused muscles as I made my
way to the wall.

It was stunning, each butterfly pressing out of the wall.
They weren’t real but the way they had been crafted was spellbinding, they
looked and felt real as I stroked the tip of my finger across a particular pale
blue one that called for my attention. The softness to its faux wings tickled
my fingertip, making me smile faintly.

“Holly Blue.”

I spun round, wincing at the pain that tore through my
knees with the sudden action.

“Sorry?” I asked as Master stepped through the door, his
eyes intent on me.

“The butterfly. It’s called Holly Blue.”

“Oh.”  He walked towards me while I turned back to the
wall. “It’s…” I paused and shivered as he came to rest beside me, his huge body
shrouding me. “Beautiful.”

“Yes.” He sighed deeply. “It is. Delicate and simply
stunning.”

I nodded, the gentle blueness of it giving me reason to
smile. “Do you like butterflies?” I asked as I kept my gaze on the flurry
before me. “Are they your
thing
?”

He was silent and I turned to study him. A small smile
curved the corners of his lips as a twinkle lit his eyes, transforming his
usual stern features into something of pure beauty. “My
thing
?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “You know; your hobby, the thing that
floats your boat, your diversion… your
thing
.”

He diverted his eyes as he tried to hide his amusement.
“No, Mae. Butterflies are not my
thing
.”

I nodded, wondering why the hell he had a whole wall
decorated with fake butterflies if they didn’t appeal to him. “So whose thing
are they? I mean, you don’t decorate a whole fifteen foot wall with the insects
if they do nothing for you.”

The air around me physically cooled, oxygen rapidly
depleting from the atmosphere. I knew instantly I had asked the wrong question.

“Nadu, Mae,” he ordered suddenly, causing me to jump in
surprise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

His teeth sank into his bottom lip, his customary habit
alerting me to his fury. I dropped to my knees before him as quickly as I could
manage, shifting into the required pose as I stared straight forward. My eyes
widened when I noticed the strain in the crotch of his trousers. The arsehole
was turned on. What the fuck?

My breath paused when he calmly strolled around behind
me, the unknown frightening as anguish flooded my body. I gasped when his hand
pressed on the back of my head and he pushed me downwards until my forehead
rested on the carpet, my arse stuck up in the air behind me.

“Place your hands on the back of your neck, lamb.”

“What?” I spluttered as I tried to turn to him.

He was suddenly framing me, his strong body pressing
against my back as his hot breath rippled over my ear. “You will refrain from
any questioning. I ask, you obey. Is that clear?” I squeezed my eyes closed as
he once again pressed my forehead to the floor. “IS THAT CLEAR?”

“Yes, Master,” I spat, trying to control my temper.

“Again!”

“Yes,” I whimpered as he grabbed a handful of my hair and
twisted it, my roots screaming in pain at his hold. “Yes, Master,” I repeated
as I quickly brought my hands to clasp behind my neck.

His grasp loosened immediately. “Open your thighs.”

Nausea curled deep as my stomach revolted to his demand.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I obeyed and shuffled my aching knees apart.

Mortification hit me when he lifted my nightdress and
cool air caused goosebumps to erupt over my backside. I shivered as one of his
fingers traced the groove between my buttocks, the tip of his finger pressing
against my anus. “Please…” I begged but shuddered when he slid the very tip
inside. I blew out a breath as heat travelled into my stomach, my thighs
rippling with desire as I fought against the treacherous sensation.

He pushed in further, the sensation unfamiliar and
shameful. “Please don’t.”

My breath paused in my lungs as a scurry of arousal
ripped through me.
Oh Christ!
I should be revolted by his touch, horrified. However, his contact did none of
those things. I whimpered with shame when my body took control and my hips
pressed backwards, seeking more of his pleasure.

I started to pant when he slid his finger in and out
slowly, the pleasure building until my body throbbed in need, my brain crying
out for release as my blood swelled inside my veins. “Please,” I repeated but
this time with a completely different meaning.

“You see how I own you, lamb. How willing your body is to
succumb to me.”

I nodded; my throat had closed up to the sensations
running through me. “Oh, God,” I rasped when his stroke sped up. My backside burnt
when he inserted another finger but when the initial pain subsided, all that
remained was bliss and need, want and desire.

“Tell me what you want, Mae.”

I gulped, embarrassment leading to shame. “I… I don’t
know… I just need…”

“You need me to make you come. You want me to provide you
with the oblivion of climax.” It was a statement, not a question and I nodded.
Fuck yes, I did need him to make me come. It felt like my life depended on it,
the pressure ready to blow my mind if it wasn’t set free soon.

“Yes. Please…. Oh, God, please, Master.”

My whole body went into lockdown as my first ever orgasm
floored me. Every single muscle in my body tightened as his fingers pounded
deeply and more fingers pinched my clit hard. A silent scream erupted from my
throat as my back arched, the sore muscles screeching in pleasure at the pain.

I couldn’t breathe, my lungs had constricted. A deep
throb fired up my spine and pulsed bliss through my brain, dragging a deep sigh
from me as my forehead dropped to the floor once more, but this time in need
instead of demand.

“Oh fuck!” I breathed out as ecstasy rippled through me.

Oh fuck!
I tensed as soon as it left my lips,
hoping I’d said it quiet enough for Master to miss. Yep, no such luck.

I screamed as a fire struck my bottom, the palm of his hand
cracking my flesh. “I’m sorry,” I cried out as another blow stripped my poor
skin.

He remained silent as he rained stroke after stroke on my
tender skin, each crack firing painfully through me. Yet, when his breath
started to soothe the burn after each strike, another completely different pain
overwhelmed me. It was a pulsing pain, a heady almost pleasurable pain. I
started to lift my hips in time for each of his smacks, anticipating them,
needing them even.

There was something seriously wrong with me. I was sick
and twisted, taking enjoyment from the dark debauched givings of my Master.

I turned to look over my shoulder when a faint moan
broadcast Master’s own arousal. I gasped, my lips parting as I watched him
spank me with one hand, his thick cock in his other hand, his fist stroking briskly
as he brought himself off. His eyes found mine as his pupils exploded and his
cum shot across my back, the thick white cream pumping from him onto the now
red skin of my arse. His jaw trembled as he held my gaze, fire spreading over
his face as he released another moan of gratification.