Trapped: Part 2

“You have no idea why I collect your tears,” the witch said one day after she’d taken the tears and drank them from the golden cup.

It wasn’t a question.

She balanced her weight on her left leg, her left arm cocked and resting on the hip. She stood so close that he couldn’t raise his gaze to see her face, but from her tone he guessed she was smiling in amusement.

“Assumed you just enjoyed watching me suffer,” he said.

She’d come later than usual today, and already the sun was growing low in the sky. With the great flame of the sky behind her, the witch appeared as a simple silhouette, a shadow across the path of the light. He wished he could see her face. He wished he didn’t wish he could see her face. He wished the lovely lilt of her voice didn’t make his chest swell with an ache he wished he wouldn’t wish would annihilate him.

“Oh, no. Not at all, darling. I hate that part of it, I really do,” she said in a voice brimming with such sincerity he almost believed her. His eyes, by now attuned to her slightest movement, noted her legs tentatively shifting, and he gritted his teeth because he already knew what was coming.

She went on, “I swear, sometimes I think you think I’m cruel. Or even — heaven forbid — you think I actually enjoy… what? I don’t even know, really. Making you cry? Causing you pain? Watching you lie there day after day, so weak and pathetic? No, it really hurts me to do those things.”

The weight shifted from her left leg to the right and the foot began to push off…

“Don’t you hear me?” she asked, “I said it really hurts me to do those things.”

Her foot slammed down on his hand just as she spoke the word “hurts.” He managed to suppress a gasp but still let out a grunt from the red eruption of pain in the hand with the spike stuck through it. The pressure from her foot, which she varied with the skill of a practiced expert, kept all sides of the wound raw and maximally tender. His breath only came through brief, sharp efforts.

“Now listen close, my love,” she said tenderly. “In a moment I’m going to let the pressure off your hand. But before that I have to know you understand I’m not doing this because I enjoy it. I hate to see you suffer so. Really I do. Do you understand?”

He shut his eyes as tightly as he could and breathed, “I understand.”

“Come now, pet. What do you understand?”

That damned witch!

He imagined her tied to a stake, doused in oil, with he himself holding a lit torch and savoring the anticipation as she begged for her life. The happy image merged with the burning in his right hand to produce an obscene ecstasy.

Patience. That’s for the future.

For now, though…

Slowly, the pain mounting moment by moment, he counted down from ten. That done: “I understand you don’t do this because you enjoy making me suffer.”

“Now there’s a good little pet,” she said in a voice sweet enough to send a tingling thrill down his spine as she removed her foot once again. She crouched before him so he could finally see her face, relaxed with pleasure. “Just think of all I do for you. If I hadn’t enchanted that spike you’re resting your hand on I’m sure you’d have a nasty infection by now.”

“Very considerate.”

“I won’t have your impudence!” she said, her expression hardening. For a moment he feared she’d go back to torturing his hand. But for only a moment. Her face softened and she said, “I might tell you why I have to do all this if you asked very nicely.”

He hated playing along with her desires. But still, he wanted to know. “Why do you collect my tears in the cup and drink them?”

She turned away, facing the setting sun. “You know what, I changed my mind. Asking nicely isn’t good enough. You don’t think you’d get something for nothing, now do you, my little toy? I’m going to have to ask a little something of you first.”

“What’s that?” he asked with dread weighing in his heart.

She faced him again, a soft look in her eyes. “You’ve been daydreaming about leaving me. Probably with a lot of silly little fantasies about causing me harm, too.”

Again, no questions. Simple statements of fact. Without judgment, without reproach — without any tone whatsoever, really.

Before he could open his mouth she added, “Choose your words carefully. I will be very unhappy if you lie to me.”

He hesitated. Was this a trick of some kind?

But what good would it do to lie?

At last he said, “Every free man should want to escape tyranny.”

“How tepidly you phrase it, pet,” she said with curling lips. “Oh, and by the way, the correct form of address is Mistress. Do go ahead and try it out.”

His eye twitched again. “Every free man should want to escape tyranny, Mistress.”

She laughed. “I might as well remind you that I don’t enjoy any of this at all. I simply do what I must do. You, on the other hand? You’re fooling yourself with these fantasies of freedom. What you really want is to remain here. Right here. Under my heel. Forever.”

“What? No!”

“Use the proper form of address.”

“You’re wrong… Mistress.”

“And that’s why you’ve been working so diligently to escape my net binding your feet? You couldn’t escape my spell if you tried… but you haven’t even tried. Have you?”

“What is it you want from me, Mistress?”

“Have you!?!”

He sighed. “No, Mistress.”

She laughed again and spat in his face. “Some free man, aren’t you? Why don’t you just admit it? Stop lying to yourself. Admit to yourself — and to me — that this is where you want to be. For the rest of your days.”

He glared at her.

No, she’s completely wrong. This is just more of her witchcraft! I’ve just been recovering my strength for the escape, that’s all. It takes time and she’s only messing with my mind, nothing more. I don’t want to be here. I really don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here!

“If you don’t admit it, pet, I’ll never tell you why I bother with you,” she said.

What’s the harm? Just a little lie. I can give her that. It’s not like it binds me to anything… right?

“I want to be here with you, Mistress,” he said at last.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“There’s a good little pet,” she said, stroking the top of his head affectionately.

Then she stood up and walked away, singing her song, as always.

Before she could make it more than a few steps he shouted, “But you didn’t tell me why you want me here in the first place!”

With a laugh in her voice she said, “Oh, you should have paid closer attention. I never promised to tell you anything.”