When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Twenty - Line Racing

TWENTY

Line Racing

In the first two races of the first mini-contest of weekend play, something must travel all the way down the chain, and then back up again, after being handled in a certain way, for a line to win first place.

They haven’t learned from their supposed catastrophic loss of so many true submissives, have they? Catherine thinks to herself.

Just don’t think about it, healer sends to her, when it is almost Catherine’s turn. It’s a race. Nineteen women will be angry. Twenty masters. And most importantly, Tristan. Very competitive Tristan, whom you don’t want to piss off again. Remember that awful dick? Open up, Catherine.

Catherine fears freezing again, fears that the command from her mind to do as she must will once again be ignored by her body. She most certainly does not want to anger Tristan, and knows that there is no point in rebelling against him, since attempting it is not a winnable course of action. It does happen, however, that she contradicts him, as it did when she froze. It happens when some part of her refuses to respect the chain of command, and most often, when it refuses to respect her very own chain of authority within her.

Once it is time for her to participate in the race, however, her body obeys, and so, even though her chest hurts, she nevertheless does what must be done, and the race then continues down the line. She does not look at Tristan, who stands so very close to her, lined up with the masters.

When it is soon her turn again as the race returns the other way now, Catherine once again does as she must, and, shivering still from disgust, she then registers that the women around her are very excited. When she looks up for the first time during the race at a big screen some feet away, she sees that three teams have almost completed the race, including hers.

Catherine shakes her head slightly as she finds herself watching a huge split-screen of three teams of naked women, lined up, doing their thing one after the other, to win. She, however, is not excited, but she is happy with herself for having managed to do what she had to do. The men’s faces express delight and deliciousness as they watch and take it all in. Men love messes, and that thing is a mess of bodily fluids.

Once Catherine’s line wins, the screens all over the ballroom instantly slip into replay mode, projecting images that zoom in nice and close to the body parts involved in exchanges, and adding slow motion to the mix now and then, either to a montage of several shots, or during one great, big, full-screen replay.

Catherine feels miserable, despondent, when she learns that the next race will be even worse.

Tristan must hate me. He must want me dead, putting my health and life on the line like this. I don’t want this. I can’t do this. I won’t do this, she adds to herself, before her eyes find Tristan’s, just a few feet away. She quickly looks away from his most demanding eyes.

Every day is an opportunity, Catherine. Or you can die within days, hours maybe, at his hands, if you disobey him, embarrass his masterhood, healer reminds her.

So, I can do this and live more days, but then, just when I manage to escape, when my life finally has more to offer me, then I can find out that I’m dying because of a disease that I caught this weekend? I’m not a man to put sex above everything else, even my own life. Not stupid.

Ready, set, go.

Catherine hates, hates, hates this so.

When it is almost her turn, she once again does not understand why the other women are so excited about winning. This is obviously no big deal for whores, then, what they have to do, but winning is. She retches, this time, when she must do what she must do, and women up and down the line scream at her with much emotion as she remains frozen.