Silent Touch

Christopher walked through the front door and hung up his coat.

“Christopher, dear, how was your time with the Robinson girl?” Ms. Young asked him.

Christopher looked up and saw his mother sitting on the plush red sofa with Mason standing behind her, but with what appeared to be a leather color around his neck.

“It was fine, mother. What are you doing?” Christopher asked her.

“Well, Mason here was being a naughty boy, so I had to teach him how to be good,” Ms. Young confirmed. “What I want to know is why you're stumbling home at the wee hours of the morning.”

“Well, mother, The Robinsons were playing a game that lasted through the night and into the morning.”

“Shame. I thought you would've clicked with that Robinson girl. She was quite the catch and the family has such good money,” Ms. Young stated, yanking on the leash on Mason's collar, forcing Mason to yelp and pour more tea for her.

“Mother, I explained a thousand times that the person I want to marry is going to be with the person that I love. How is that-?”

“Look, Christopher, you can have this fantasy of marrying the one person you love, but remember that I want someone with a rich family with a rich heritage. I don't want you running off with the local slave girls. They're such bad publicity,” Ms. Young confirmed.

Christopher shut his mouth and didn't say anything. He knew his mother well and everything, but he wants to be able to control his own life and marry the person he thought was best.

Christopher took one last look at Mason and his mother and walked up the stairs towards his room. He needed time to think about what’s happening and how he was going to handle it. To be honest, he still doesn’t know what’s going on right now. He doesn’t know whether or not that his mother is a sadistic bitch that loves to torture Mason until he’s bleeding on the wooden floor, or if she was doing this because that’s how she treats everybody in the house.

Mason was down on all fours while Ms. Young had her feet propped on his back. Mason bit his lip to suppress his screams of pain and the fact that he was so sore. He didn’t know how long he was supposed to stay on like this, but he knew he wouldn’t last for long.

“Mason, dear, be a good boy and get your mistress some more tea,” Ms. Young demanded.

Mason nodded his head and got up from the floor. He walked towards the kitchen where he saw the cooks smoking a cigarette.

“Mason,” one of the female chefs greeted, making him flinch a little.

“Carol, don’t do that. You know his fear,” Amy scolded.

Mason ignored their conversation and heated some tea for Ms. Young. He kept feeling the stares of the chefs in the kitchen, which made him turn around.

“Mason, you don’t look too good,” one of the male chefs commented.

“I’m fine. Really,” Mason confirmed, trying to force a smile on his face.

Amy looked at him and bit her lip. She didn’t want to say anything that might cause Mason to go into a mental break down and cause Ms. Young to hurt him even more.

“Alright, Mason. Just remember, we’re your family and that we love you. Please don’t forget that,” Amy told him, touching his shoulder lightly.

Mason flinched and shooed her hand away.

“I know, but I need to take the tea to Mistress or else she’ll get the whip out,” Mason confirmed, grabbing the ready tea and walked towards the living room where Ms. Young was busy smoking a cigarette and reading a magazine.

She looked up and smirked, taking the tea and took a sip, then made a bitter face at the tea.

“It’s not sweet enough,” Ms. Young confirmed, taking her cigarette and grabbing hold of his right arm and burning the top part of his arm.

Mason bit his lip to stop himself from screaming out in pain. He looked at his arm and saw the new burn mark on the upper part of his right arm.

“Now on the floor like a good boy and I’ll get someone else to make the tea,” Ms. Young spat, forcing Mason down on the ground.

Mason is back on all fours and feels the sting on his back. He chokes back the cries and kept staring at the ground in front of him.

“Mom, where’s Mason?” a familiar voice questioned.

Ms. Young looks up from her newspaper with a cigarette hanging out from her fingers. Christopher comes into the room and sees Mason on all fours with his mother’s feet propped up on his back.

“Why? What do you need him for?” Ms. Young demanded.

Christopher was about to open his mouth, but then closed it. “He needs to clean my room,” he confirmed pathetically.

Ms. Young rolled her eyes and kicked Mason away from her. Mason grunted in pain and got up, looking up at Christopher and stood up. Christopher held onto Mason’s arm and lightly led him towards his room. Mason followed behind him and walked up the stairs with him. Christopher opened his room and let Mason in.

“Like I said, I need you to clean my room,” Christopher confirmed, closing the door behind him.

Mason just did a bow and began to get to work. Christopher’s room wasn’t really messy, but it wasn’t really clean, either. There were clothes all over the floor, the bed wasn’t set up, and there were stacks of papers on top of his desk. Once he got to work, Christopher watched him work. Christopher noticed that Mason looked so tiny, so fragile.

Mason finished cleaning parts of the room and hung up a shirt that appeared to be clean back inside his closet, which he took time to clean.

“Thanks, Mason,” Christopher said, smiling softly.

Mason turned around and was surprised that he was getting a thank you. He rarely gets a thank you from anybody. Of course, Christopher was different. He always said his please and thank yous. He nodded his head and did his usual bow, then left his room and walked towards where Ms. Young was.

“Mason,” a voice called.

He turned and saw Christopher standing on top of the stairs.

“Um… can you please get me something to drink? I don’t mind what kind it is,” Christopher asked.

Mason bowed and went to get something for Master Young. He walked towards the kitchen and saw the chefs’ busy cooking dinner for the family.

“Hey there, cutie. What do ya need?” a pretty female asked, her voice having a hint of a Southern accent.

He flinched when the girl talked to him and inched away from her. He was afraid of her. He was afraid that she was going to hurt him like when Ms. Young hurts him.

“What’s wrong, cutie?” the girl asked again.

Amy looks up from her dish and saw Mason slinking away from the girl and got a drink from the fridge.

“Casey, you’re scaring him. Don’t try to approach him until he feels comfortable around you,” Amy confirmed.

She remembered when she first worked here and Mason was a child, he was extremely skittish around her and she didn’t figure out why until she saw Ms. Young use a riding crop to beat him on his back.

Casey soon backed off and saw Mason grab a drink and walked out of the kitchen. Amy shook her head and kept cooking. One day, she’ll figure out that boy. Until then, she’s going to continue to be the chef of a bitch that thinks she’s better than everybody.

Mason opened the door to Christopher’s room and saw him typing something up on his laptop.

“Master Young,” he greeted quietly.

Christopher turned around and saw him peaking through the door.

“Enter,” he plainly said.

Mason entered the room and set the drink next to him. Christopher looked up and saw him standing next to the door.

“Anything else, Master Young?” Mason asked him.

“Mason, I told you to stop calling me Master Young,” Christopher told him, rubbing his eyes from the sleep.

“I know, sir, but it’s mandatory that I call you that, whether or not you don’t want me to,” Mason confirmed.

Christopher sighed and looked up at him.

“Well, you’re free to go,” he confirmed, earning him a bow from Mason and him leaving.

Mason walked down the stairs and heard a sickling sweet voice calling him.

“Mason, darling, come in here,” the feminine voice called.

Mason entered the room and saw Ms. Young sitting on the same chair she was in when he left.

“What took you so long, darling?” she asked, indicating for him to come closer.

He stepped forwards hesitantly and was standing by her.

“Master Young had a very messy room and requested me to get him something to drink,” Mason answered.

“Next time, don’t take too long. Mama was lonely without you,” Ms. Young cooed, running her finger through his arm.

He shivered from fright and looked at her. She seemed dazed, but still menacing enough to hurt him.

“Mistress, dinner is served,” Amy told them.

Ms. Young looked up and got up from her seat.

“Mason, be a dear and be ready on my bed. I want you to be ready when I get up there,” Ms. Young demanded.

Mason swallowed hard and nodded his head. He wasn’t going to argue, especially in the state that she’s in now. If he’s lucky enough, which is highly unlikely, she’ll pass out from eating too much and order him away.

He knows that’s not going to happen.

So all he does is hope and pray that it does.