The Dancer and the Masks by Bea Paige
Chapter 15
JAKUB
My brothers watch us as we enter the grand hall. Nothing walks to my left and slightly behind me, her movements graceful despite how uncomfortable she must feel wearing the chastity belt. Her footsteps are light, her chin tipped upwards and her spine straight. She is a force to be reckoned with, not just because she’s put my brothers under her spell, but because she made me feel something other than cold, hard, emptiness.
She’s dangerous for us all.
I should’ve killed her.
I should’ve put her out of her misery and ended this charade, but something stopped me, something I refuse to look too hard at. She still lives and I have the key to untold pleasures and indescribable pain hanging around my goddamn neck. It weighs me down, a fucking curse.
“Nice room, shame about the company,” she mutters, her sarcasm fuelling her fire.
She has courage, I’ll give her that. It’s both irritating and admirable, though it waivers a little when she notices the gilt cage hanging from the ceiling above the large dining table. I hear her gasp when she sees who’s inside.
“Nothing, meet Two. She’s a trapeze artist and one of the founding members of The Menagerie,” I explain, looking upwards, following her surprised gaze.
Two smiles coyly from behind her gilded cage, acting every part the delicate, rare creature she loves to portray. It’s part of her act, her charm. Two’s slight frame, small breasts and long pale hair piled up on her head in ringlets, appeal to our clients who fantasize about overpowering something fragile. She’s just like a pretty bird in its cage, perched on her swing and wearing a canary yellow dress that does nothing to hide her pert breasts and thatch of hair between her legs. She might be in her mid-thirties now, but is still as beautiful as she was when she arrived here eight years ago. Two was my father’s second acquisition, but she was Leon’s first. He broke her in, and they are still bonded by the experience, though his interest in her has long since waned.
“We were about to send out a search party for you,” Leon remarks, sipping a glass of red wine, his cool green eyes watching our every move from beneath the applique mask he’s wearing. It covers the top half of his face, the varying shades of gold fabric glued over the top of black molded leather. It’s one of his favourites, and the one he tends to wear when we dine with the Numbers. Like me he’s dressed smartly, with a fitted black shirt and gold cufflinks that glint in the candlelight. But where he has chosen a mask that is more decadent, my own is a dark grey to match my mood.
“We’re here now,” I retort, ignoring the challenge in his gaze. It’s happening more and more these days, but whilst he and Konrad may be older than me by a few years, I’m the true heir to the Brov dynasty, and long ago I proved myself strong enough to take the seat at the head of this table. I was fourteen when I broke in One, my father’s first acquisition, and have sat in this chair ever since. “Shall we begin?” I ask as Nothing stands beside me, her arms folded across her chest. I can feel her anxiety, her anger and fear. It’s distracting, but even more so for Konrad who hasn’t taken his eyes off her. He’s obsessed. I knew it the moment he first laid eyes on her. Leon remains quiet, assessing, but Konrad is barely containing his emotions as he eyes the outline of the chastity belt beneath the material of her dress.
“What is she wearing?” Konrad hisses under his breath, knowing full well what it is. Fury paints his face as red as the half-mask he’s wearing. Nothing stiffens, feeling the sudden violence of his anger. Despite that, there’s a hint of a smile playing around her lips. She’s enjoying this tiny victory. I should punish her for it, but I don’t.
“It was necessary. Just think how sweet it will be to finally unlock the treasure trove, brother. I can’t have any more slip-ups,” I say, pointedly looking at Leon who meets my gaze with a hard stare of his own.
Konrad glares at me, but he doesn’t retaliate, all too aware of Two hanging above us. Whilst loyal to a fault, she loves gossip. Normally we don’t tolerate such talk, but her years of service have afforded her some grace. We’re not averse to indulging our Numbers if it’s beneficial to us.
“Do you have anything you wish to add?” I ask, turning my attention to Leon, curious to see if he bites. We may have made an agreement as to how we manage Nothing, but ultimately I have the last say, and if I choose to change shit up, then that is my right as heir. Besides, after his bullshit a few days ago he’s lucky she still remains ours and not just mine.
Resting his hands on the table, Leon presses his palms against the smooth oak. “Who has the key?” he asks, his voice even.
“I do.”
He nods, but doesn’t say anything further. Instead, he stares at Nothing, his eyes undressing her. It doesn’t go unnoticed that her nipples are peaked beneath her white cotton dress. It’s a fear response and not one of lust, but despite that she maintains eye contact with Leon, refusing to submit. It’s been a long time since anyone here at Ardelby Castle has had the courage to do the same. Like me, Leon has very few emotions left. Of the three of us, he was the first to discard his humanity like an old coat that no longer fit him.
“Don’t think that this will give you any respite, Nought,” he says. “There are many things we can do to you despite that contraption.”
“Not without my say so,” I interject.
“Our agreement still stands.” Leon’s lip curls up and a sudden flash of anger flares across his face. That in and of itself is surprising, and it takes me aback.
“It does, for now. Ultimately, I’m in control, Brother.”
Leon taps his finger against the table. “If you say so, Jakub.”
Suddenly, the key around my neck feels heavier than it should. I’m aware of the power that holding this key affords, but I’m also aware of the responsibility, not towards Nothing—I care little for her other than what she can provide for myself and my brothers—but to our bond. It is the only thing left that I truly value. Whatever happens, this woman cannot get between us. I won’t be drawn in by her reckless courage, freckle-spattered thighs or the way she completely gives herself over to pleasure. I won’t.
“Noted,” I reply, forcing my fingers to relax from around the leash. I’ve been holding onto it tightly ever since the moment I clipped it onto the collar around her neck whilst she slept peacefully, as though a monster wasn’t hiding in the shadows watching her.
“We should begin,” Konrad says, cutting through the tension, eager to start. He may not be able to fully indulge in Nothing like he wants, but he’s well aware that there’s more to tonight than dinner. It may satiate his appetite a little while longer, or it could do the opposite and fuel it.
We’ll soon find out.
Nothing shifts on her feet. A kinder man would remove the collar and leash, and ask her to sit at the table. I’m not that man. Besides, she hasn’t earned her place yet. You don’t get to dine with The Masks until you’ve committed to your life here, and I have the feeling that Nothing won’t ever dine at this table.
“What should I do?” Nothing asks, her shaking fingers clutching at her dress. She scrunches the material in her hands, her head turned to face me. The length of her hair hides most of her features, but her beauty is the kind that’s hard to miss. It’s... disappointing.
“Stay where you are,” I say curtly, before motioning for One—who’s been waiting in the shadows all this time—to begin. A beat later, the haunting notes of The Promise, a piano piece by Michael Nyman begin to rise up into the air. Despite years of conditioning not to feel any kind of emotions other than the ones that have kept me alive, I cannot prevent the hair of my arms from standing on end. Like Leon and Two, One and I have a connection that runs deeper than mere master and slave. Aside from Thirteen, she’s the only Number I have any type of relationship with. If you can call it that.
“Oh my God,” Nothing whispers, her head turning to seek out the person playing such exquisite music. There’s no denying that One is profoundly talented, her music able to capture and entrance. My father knew exactly what he was doing when he collected her. “That’s beautiful.”
Nothing’s shoulders relax, her demeanour altering as the music washes over her. I would bet my collection of curiosities that in this moment, right now, Nothing doesn’t feel any fear, lost to the music as she is. Without warning I lean over and grasp her arm, having the sudden urge to see if she reacts physically the same way as I do, and to remind her to never let down her guard. She flinches away from my touch, stiffening when my hand grips her arm tightly.
“What are you—”
“Don’t ask questions,” I snap.
Pulling up her sleeve, not only is the skin of her arm covered in goosebumps, but more freckles. A pointillistic decoration unique only to her. Earlier she thought I was staring at her perfect, untouched pussy. I wasn’t. I was staring at the rash of freckles covering her creamy thighs. They’re an abnormality, a random pigmentation of skin. To some they might be beautiful, others unattractive. I’m not sure which side of the line I sit on. Either way, they had me intrigued enough not to want my brothers to completely break her just yet, to want to taste her.
Licking my lips, I ignore the fact that her essence is still on my tongue and concentrate on using this moment to play with her head.
“This is why One is valuable,” I say, running my forefinger over the tiny hairs standing to attention on Nothing’s arm. She catches my eye, a note of curiosity on her face. “Men and women have come far and wide to listen to her play,” I continue. “They pay a lot of money for the privilege, for this precise reaction. Some even say listening to One play is a better high than an orgasm, and here you are enjoying her talent for free.”
Konrad scoffs. “Some of them also pay three times the amount to fuck her whilst she bends over the piano and plays them a tune. All that silky black hair, perfect olive skin and sultry Italian sex appeal means she’s one of the favourites.” He reaches for Nothing’s free hand, flipping it over so her palm faces upwards. She tries to draw her hand away, but he grasps it tightly, then presses the tip of his index finger against the sensitive skin, circling her palm. “Tell me, Zero, does her music turn you on?”
“I don’t—” she stumbles, her breath hitching.
“Does my touch make you wet?” Konrad asks. “Imagine me doing this to your clit. Have you ever had a real, earth-shattering, soul-splitting orgasm, Zero? Does One’s music make you want to come?”
Nothing’s lips part, her eyelids fluttering as she battles against her reaction to Konrad’s touch combined with One’s music and, no doubt, the lingering effects of my tongue and lips on her sweet, sweet pussy. I don’t immediately let her go either, curious to see whether she can handle both of our attention.
“What about this?” Konrad asks, leaning over to press his lips against her open palm, before tenderly kissing the pulse point in her wrist.
She shudders, her body reacting, just like he knew it would. The way her body sways towards him despite her obvious hate confirms my suspicion that until very recently she hasn’t experienced being touched by a man before, especially not those who are as skilled in the art of manipulation as we are. We use sex as a weapon, pleasure and pain are the tools in our arsenal. She’s no match for us, no matter how strong she appears to be.
“Don’t— Don’t touch me,” she objects, trying once again to withdraw her hand from his hold. This time I can’t avoid punishing her. I don’t want to. I need to make her pay for her disobedience, for wanting what I gave her. How fucking dare she open herself up like that! How fucking dare she give herself up so easily! She was so pure in her lust, so angry in her submission. It was a heady fucking concoction and I hate the fact I succumbed to it.
“I told you, Nothing, you do what we want, when we want it. Put your forearms on the table and bend over,” I demand. Konrad lets her hand go and grins. Leon just watches. Silent, emotionless.
“Why?”
“Always with the questions... You really don’t get it, do you?” I spit, standing abruptly and grasping the back of her neck. Leaning in close, I rest my lips against her ear. “Put your forearms on the table and bend the fuck over!”
Above us, I hear Two giggling. Nothing stiffens, her gaze lifting upwards briefly, unable to understand how anyone could find this amusing. Then with a heaving chest, she does as I demand and bends over. Her hair fans out across her back, the fiery tresses almost reaching her arse. None of the other Numbers have red hair, so I’m aware of the novelty, one that Konrad’s clearly attracted to given the way he’s fingering a lock of Nothing’s hair reverently. He’s always been drawn to fire, to heat and flames. She represents physically everything he wants in a woman.
“Do you want to do it?” I ask him, holding out the leash, giving him the responsibility.
“Fuck, yes,” he responds, taking it from me as he moves to stand behind Nothing. She’s trembling so much that the globes of her arse wobble beneath the material of her dress.
“Relax, it won’t hurt as much if you do,” I find myself saying, instantly regretting it when Konrad gives me a sharp look and Leon snorts in derision. Fuck them both, I’m doing this for them, not her. “You might want to break Nothing, but you need her to last, at least long enough to get what we all need. Let’s not ruin her just yet.”
“Right, Brother,” Konrad says with a smirk, before crouching down behind her and sliding the dress slowly up her legs and over the mound of her arse. I swallow hard, my cock twitching, not at the sight of the chastity belt resting along her arse crack but at the spattering of freckles over the globes of her cheeks and back of her thighs. I find myself staring at them, at the way they mar her perfect skin. They look like a galaxy of stars… Stars...
Star.
A tremor wracks my body, the violence of it snapping me out of the moment. What the fuck? A past memory lingers in the back of my mind, it feels painful. Why does that word hurt so much?
“Get on with it!” I snap, not wanting to find out.
“With pleasure,” Konrad murmurs, before shifting his position and bringing the leash down against Nothing’s rounded arse with a loud thwack. She jerks forward, but she doesn’t scream.
Leon sits forward in his seat. Shifting from laid-back to interested.
“Do it again,” he demands, his voice low, gruff. I know what he’s thinking, that her lack of reaction in the library was a fluke, that she can’t be as controlled or detached from the pain as she appeared that day. Konrad flicks his gaze to me, and I nod, giving him permission, wanting to find out just as much as my brothers how much she can take.
Thwack!
Nothing remains silent. Her body isn’t tense, it’s relaxed. Her eyes stare off into the distance, not hollow, just serene. It’s eerie.
Leon’s fingers tighten around the stem of his wine glass. “Again!”
I jerk my chin. Konrad brings the leash down onto her arse once more.
Thwack!
Around us One’s haunting music rebounds off the high ceiling and walls, the notes building into a crescendo. The combination of Nothing’s star-spattered arse—reddened now by the lashes— and One’s music is, admittedly, more than a little intoxicating. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt even the slightest attraction to a woman, and it’s not a feeling that sits well with me. Attraction is dangerous. It can lead to the kind of emotion that can make a man weak.
I’m not a weak man, and neither are my brothers.
“Again,” I say, punishing her for more than her refusal to obey. We’re punishing her for being so strong.
Konrad whips her twice more until five deep-red slashes mark her arse, obliterating the stars beneath burning comets. Nothing doesn’t cry, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t even move.
Nothing gives us nothing, whilst at the same time telling us everything.
This woman is something else, something more.
When the Numbers begin to enter the room, I don’t even notice them.