It was Selim who freed Talifa and herself for the evening chores. Corey observed her Master cock a surprised eye, but he said no word. She was hurt by his seeming obliviousness to her existence. He had filled her thoughts since Ben Sirah, quite evidently she had not filled his. Yet she was only a slave on a coffle of girls, and there might be forces and undercurrents of which she was unaware. In their previous times together he had pledged her nothing, all the avowals had been her own. Chagrined, she threw a load of wood beside the fire and demanded: "What's the matter, Seth? Why don't you speak to me?"
He spared her his usual lazy amusement. "You sure you got the right address, love?"
Corey stamped an expressive foot. "Alright then! Please, Master, what's the matter?"
"Nothing. Couldn't be better."
"But you keep me chained! You don't speak!"
"You ain't chained now. Did you expect me to go down the coffle shaking hands?"
"You're being deliberately unkind."
"You're being deliberately foolish. Get me a cup of water."
Seth Burdett's grin was infuriating. Corey, the slave, threw the water in his face. naked and enraged, she hurled the cup at his feet. "And you know what you can do with that!" Breasts heaving, she faced him defiantly.
Carelessly, he beckoned an entranced but horrified Talifa. "Take this silly bitch over there on the grass and tie her while we eat. Selim can free you another girl to help."
Shame ans humiliation mantled Corey's cheeks scarlet as she walked the few paces to the spot indicated. Evidently she was beneath the attention of men. Even her punishment was delegated to a girl.
"You foolish slave! Why you be so silly?" Talifa was intrigued. "You got hot cunt for big man. Talifa easy tell."
Corey sniffed. She had nothing to say. Pouting petulantly, she crossed her wrists behind her back. It was a familiar gesture almost automatic. She winced but did not complain as Talifa tie them tight.
"Talifa not tie pretty elbows unless she told. But now you lay down."
Miserably the delinquent slave obeyed. It looked like being a sad suppertime. She winced again as her ankles were deftly roped. When the rope was taken on up to join her wrists she tensed and objected: "Oh, Talifa, you don't have to hog-tie me. Please don't tie me like that."
"Why not? It keep you nice and quiet."
"Because it hurst, that's why. He just said tie me up. He didn't tell you to hurt me."
"You don't struggle it don't hurt. Keep still."
Corey sniffed again. She was far more angry with herself than with the girl who was binding her, or with the man who had given the order. She had asked for this. It served her right. She gasped as the tensioning rope drew her feet and hands together to bow her back. It was a beastly way for a girl to be tied. She hated it.
With Talifa gone, Corey tried to relax. She could not get loose, and she was too close to observant eyes to struggle. She wanted to cry, but the eyes would see that too. Angrily she blinked back her tears and settled herself down to endure her punishment. The less she moved the less she hurt. She watched the mealtime preparation, feeling abandoned, lonely and misused. She made a bitter resolution that if she ever got back on the coffle she would stay there and keep her mouth shut. Sulkily, she ate the few scraps Talifa's fingers poked into her mouth when the meal was done. The evening was well advanced, and Corey was stiff and cramped and sore when Seth Burdett picked her up and carried her into the trees.
"Damned impatient, weren't you, love?"
"It wouldn't have hurt you to look at me."
He dumped her on the ground. "Look, girl, if you want to pout and be sulky you can stey here like that for the night. I'll go back to camp."
"Noooooooooo!" Corey struggled wildly against Talifa's knots. "Please, Master… P-L-E-A-S-E!!!"
"Try an apology."
Careless of wether she was right or wrong, Corey Gibson embraced humility with abandon. "I'm sorry, Master. I really am sorry. I do apologise for not knowing my place. I forgot I was a slave."
"Hmmmmmm, a bit stilted."
"I'm in love with you, you big oaf. Don't you know that?" The declaration sprung out of her, uncontrolled.
"You'll be whipped for the big oaf bit." Seth said dispassionately. "And if a slave loves her Master it doesn't mean she's privileged. You're one girl on a coffle. I can't single you out for extra rations."
"You don't have to keep me on that damn chain."
"Why?"
"Beause…" She sniffed unhappily. "Oh, never mind!"
Slowly he untied Talifa's knots. "I warned you before." He said broodingly. "I'm a slave trader. In a way, you've a better chance of freedom than I have. We don't mix."
"We could if you'd try."
He turned her about as though she was a kitten and bound her hands again in front.
"You're going to whip me?"
"Yes."
It was a matter of fact statement, leaving her nothing to say. She had no wish to plead. She was not even sure about the whipping. Perhaps she needed it. In sulky silence she allowed herself to be suspended to stand on her toes. Undoubtedly, from a man's standpoint, it was the most practical posture for his purpose. To begin with, it scared the girl half to death by its blatant exposure of her body.
"Mustafa had a go at you already, I see."
"Yes." She could be as monosyllabic as he.
Seth Burdett chuckled. "But not half hard enough. You're uppity as hell. You need a lesson."
"I'm sure you'll give me one. Please watch out for my breasts."
This time he laughed delightedly and patted her bottom.
"That sounded just like M'lady giving the butler his instructions for dinner."
"I don't feel like M'lady. I feel like a frightened little girl. For goodness sake whip me and be done with it before I pee my pants."
"You haven't got any pants."
"That makes it worse."
He reached down and cupped his hand between her thighs, kneading her soft moist mound. Corey held still on her tether, refusing to be coy. Her Master clutched a full hand of her a couple of times and examined the result.
"Hmmmmmm, you sure aren't in the mood."
"Would you be, tied hogtie for a couple of hours?"
"Lady Vere-de-Vere again! You damn girls…!" Pensively, he frictioned her nipples betwen fingers and thumbs until she yelped.
"You're under no obligation to arouse me sexually before you whip me." She said tartly. "I expect to scream either way."
"More humane if you're horny, love."
Stretched from her raised and tethered arms, Corey Gibson stood in petulant silence under the ministrations of the man she must call Master. She tried to hate him and could not. She tried to suppress her responses to the play of his hands and fingers but she could not do that either. She closed her eyes and surrendered to defeat. Being feminine, she strove for the last word: "I hope you're proud of what you're doing to me."
It was a strange whipping, a contest of the minds rather thn te flesh. Corey refused to scream. She did not understand her ability to keep silent but it was there, springing from some deep emotional need within her psyche to touch this man when she possessed no other weapons. She jerked and writhed and kicked under the lashes by which he cut at her defenceless nudity, but she made no sound beyond the involuntary gasps of shock as each blow impacted to sear her skin.
Seth Burdett was an artist with captive girls. He had whipped many. No coffle was without its recalcitrant maidens who, as far as he had been able to determine, could respond to no other guidance than a thrashing. Their ability to relate to any other form of persuasion was just not there. Often they fetched the highest price when stripped upon the block. Probably it was because of their whipmarks which, in the end, they became inordinately proud to bear. He did not rank Corey Gibson as belonging to this group. In his own sardonic way, he saw her as something of an experiment. She responded to cruelty and kindness most entertainingly. She had a piquancy…!