A Master For A Desperate Slave

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “My behavior is punishable, sir,” I say. My voice feels strange and the words stranger still. “But I understand what you are teaching me.”

  “Oh? And what is that?”

  I sit back on my heels and stare at Benjamin’s boots, finding an explanation that comes out with no struggle at all. I feel so weak, but I’m very certain of what I say. “That I have few boundaries, sir … in fact, I can’t even recognize where they might be. I can humiliate myself so and love the fact that you watched it. I even hope for more. I can imagine nothing that I wouldn’t do if you demanded it.” My head gradually rises from a respectful bow until I’m looking squarely in my master’s face. I see how he reacts and I know he’s pleased, although he doesn’t say so with words. I guess it is his turn to be silent.

  His eyes linger on me and I almost think he’ll be kind. Then he shifts in his seat, clears his throat and says, sounding as cold as ever:

  “I’m sad to say, Dana, that your regrettable exhibition, that uncalled for outburst puts you on probation in this training camp. Another mistake and you know what happens.”

  My eyes burn with ears, I want to plead my case… spill out the whole of my heart. Does he not believe me?

  While I remain poised to continue, to make him understand how I feel, Benjamin rises, and I feel the choke chain tossed over my head from behind. Jud jerks me to his side and I crawl to my cage and climb inside. Surprisingly, it takes a long time before my worn out body falls asleep.

  ***

  I haven’t seen Jud all day. But Benjamin has been with me, silent and sullen. He’s read the paper while I did the morning dishes and washed the floor. He’s rocked on the porch going over a briefcase full of papers. I’ve tried to count the days that have passed, and I know that the fourteen are nearly at an end. Something feels different in the air, and maybe that is a signal too that things are about to change.

  Unlike the last five or six days, I have time in the afternoon when there is nothing to do. I sit on the porch with my feet drawn up to my bottom and my arms circling my legs. My head rests on my knees. I could be pondering my life, but quite honestly, there’s not a thought in my mind. I follow the insects in the bush as they dart from one to the other, and am occasionally distracted by Benjamin rustling the papers he so carefully reads. I find it oddly annoying, which is strange, considering that hardly anything that simple has annoyed me in days.

  A stray thought crosses my mind that those papers might have something to do with Textile Trading, and yet, I don’t have even the smallest desire to know anything about them or my business, or anything about my life at home. I’m so removed from it now that I can’t remember how my apartment looks or what’s piled atop my desk at work…

  “Dana!” Benjamin’s sharp voice brings me around. “Stand up.”

  I scramble to my feet as he ambles to me. Yes. I feel it now; this is what we’ve been waiting for, isn’t it? He pushes me to the edge of the porch where my toes curl over the top step.

  “Hands out.” He moves to the stairs in front of me and quickly locks metal, fur-lined cuffs around my wrists. I know what’s coming next. As he’s stringing my arms up above my head, fastening them to ring bolts embedded in the porch posts on either side of me, I see Jud coming through the woods with a package in hand.

  “Done?” Benjamin asks him.

  “It’ll work real well,” he answers. His eyes are gleaming with victory and I worry. I have no idea what they are talking about.

  After securing my hands, Benjamin moves to my feet and repeats the same basic scenario, so that when he’s done, I’m upright and spread-eagle, vulnerable in my nakedness and completely unable to move freely.

  The day wanes slowly; the shadows grow long and a golden light seems to cover this forest clearing with a curious glow. I feel like an offering to some needy sex god, a sacrifice, or perhaps just a woman who’s greatest virtue is her lack of any virtue at all. There is some odd comfort in this and I bask for these brief minutes in the bizarre feeling, until a blindfold slips over my eyes and takes away my pleasant reverie.

  I prepare myself mentally for what I’m sure will be a long session of brutal pain—and I welcome it. There has been no sex since I was awakened at dawn and though Benjamin teased me all morning, like an annoying fly flicking his small cane inside my pussy whenever it suited his fancy, I’ve had no opportunity to release the sexual energy that’s gathered within me and remains like a cauldron of fire waiting to flame and burn. I have lived with this desperate feeling so many times since I’ve been in the woods that I’ve hardly been aware of how acute my need is now. My crotch moves lewdly as if begging the men to come hither and use the succulent, turbulent portal.

  I realize there was a purpose for today’s enforced abstinence; they must want me hot, just as I am now. I wait for a hand, a cock, a mouth, anything to take away this terrific ache. Yes, even a bruising beating would be right for the occasion. I’d beg them if I could. But I’m sure the pain will descend soon.

  Time passes, an interval that I have no way of gauging. A fly annoys me as it crawls against my sweaty skin. I shrug my shoulder and it disappears only to return, tickling the hairs on my thighs.

  Then suddenly there are hands moving about my body for some unknown purpose. At first I take no notice of their mission, but then I pick up the scent of leather in the air, and there are both cool and smooth sensations on my skin, bands of leather and metal sliding over me until they are firmly in place. I feel the push, the tug, and hear the occasionally snap. A jerk. Another tug. Within a few minutes, my torso from my shoulders to my crotch is enclosed in some garment of leather and steel—the picture is all too clear now, as my muscles struggle to move within the tight bondage. I have been harnessed like an animal. I expect that any minute a bridle and bit will complete the picture of my new role.

  But I’m fooled again. There is no bridle, no bit, I’m not to be Benjamin’s ponygirl—a fantasy I’ve often toyed with, one that my master knows arouses me. Instead, these strange clothes have a far more insidious purpose than I originally imagined. I understand the genius of what I wear; like a rope dress, but more subtle and easier to live with, I’ll feel the physical restraint with every move I make. My body quickens with the idea.

  But then my attention is quickly diverted to my crotch where I feel a pair of hands opening my labia and poking about with no discernable purpose until I feel a sudden shock of pain

  “Oh, gawd!” I can’t help but cry out.

  Another biting pain shocks my body.

  “Oh, dear gawd!” my voice lifts in the air.

  I recall the fishhooks with a fear that makes me tremble. I can barely breathe, yet when the sharp pain finally dwindles away, a resplendent sensation of bliss clouds my mind, working its way through my body like a drug.

  Then there are rude tugs at my labia accompanied by a fierce ache that settles deep. It’s beginning to dawn on me what my masters have done. Their boot camp slut will emerge from the woods wearing a harness to define the submissive role she’ll play in her life hereafter—the thought so pleases me that I’m almost smiling. It tells me that Benjamin will still have me as his submissive, as his lover and his slave. I have succeeded where I’m sure he thought I’d fail. I realize, too, that the harness that binds me is just the backdrop for my master’s sadistic plot. He’s pierced my labia and tethered them back, fixing the rings or studs—whatever he’s used to hold them wide apart—to the harness straps that cut through my groin on either side of my pussy.

  He moves in close, sensing that I now understand his scheme. “You have the picture, don’t you?” He presses his mouth to my ear and whispers as his fingers poke into my vulnerable vagina. “Imagine, Dana, your cunt is splayed wide open so this juicy portal can’t be hidden. Can you imagine what that will feel like… imagine the exposure… the humility? It will define you… strip you of your dignity. This is who you are, just one wet, fucking, ready cunt, crying out to be used. That’s you. That’s Da
na.” His terse words shake me to my core. “Get used to it.”

  I’m practically orgasming as his fingers stab deeply into my portal, but no, of course, he won’t let me get off now. As soon as I reach that glorious peak, he removes his hand, brings it to my mouth and lets me taste my sex on his fingers.

  As Benjamin backs away, the blindfold comes off and I’m staring into the dusk of evening. The golden glow of the afternoon has disappeared and I can feel the dampness from the ocean fog penetrate my skin.

  I look down and see the intricate body suit made of leather straps and connected by metal rings. Although I can feel the breeze between my open labia, I cannot see the results of my masters’ work. I suppose it’s enough to feel the tickling sensation that dances about my exposed privates. My imagination can fill in the visual gaps until I can see the results myself.

  “So you have any idea how much this pleases me?” Benjamin asks.

  I don’t have to guess, I can see the pleasure in his eyes—sadistic, brutal but curiously affectionate. I’m not sure whether to love the man or fear him. Is this what I’ve brought out of him? Was he always this devious, this cruel? Am I the magnet that attracts his inner demons, or are there inner demons at all? Could this be just an act?

  I suddenly feel as if I know less about him than when I came here; and that nothing at all about my future has been decided. We’ve simply discovered that we both have the heavy weight of dark and desperate psyches hanging about our beings. But can we ever have any peace with this?

  I’m glad I’ve been ordered to be silent because I have no idea how I could answer his question.

  Benjamin stares at me, one minute mocking me, the next remote and impossible to understand. I want to push him away again, order him out, bar him from the territory of my life. But then I do recall that I’m on his turf now, and the thought of him barring me from his life would make my heart bleed terror. Is there no answer?

  I beg with my eyes for more understanding, but then Benjamin turns away from me.

  “Cut her down, Jud,” he orders his friend.

  While Jud removes the bondage, Benjamin disappears behind me into the cabin. By the time I’m free of the restraints on my ankles and arms, he’s back on the porch with his briefcase and jacket in hand. He stops just long enough to survey the harness and smile.

  “The locks are like welds, they can’t be opened,” he informs me.

  My body likes that idea and reminds me of the sexual desire still simmering in wait. My brain has no idea what to think.

  My master’s fingers poke at the centerpiece of the harness just over my heart, and with this almost belligerent stabbing motion drives his point home, while virtually pinning me to the porch post behind me.

  “Your fourteen days are over. It may be trite to say so, Dana, but it pays to be careful what you pray for.”

  That said, he turns and starts down the stairs moving in the direction of the woods. I stand there stunned watching him, feeling the churning in my belly suddenly overpower any restraint. I leap off the porch and run toward him.

  “Where the hell are you going?” I cry out. I stop just before I reach him, afraid to move closer.

  Benjamin stops abruptly and turns. “I’m going home to get a good night’s sleep,” he says.

  “And me?” My voice sounds so strange after having been silenced for two weeks.

  “You’re staying the night with Jud,” he says flatly, as if I’m just an annoyance.

  I’m finally over the edge of sanity. “No! NO! You said we’d talk…” I step closer, afraid but urgent, “what happened to that… that was your promise! I’ve done everything… everything you’ve asked of me and I haven’t balked once… you told me we’d talk, that I’d get my say and now you’re running off leaving me like this. What does this mean, Benjamin? I have to know.”

  I move forward anxiously but I stumble and fall in the dirt.

  Benjamin stares down at me. “I never promised anything, Dana,” he scowls at me, “just that I’d be your master. I have done that for the last two weeks. Jud will take you home in the morning.”

  “And that’s all? That’s it. I get nothing else from you?”

  “I never said that. You need to think about what’s just happened here. Now get back in the cabin.”

  Totally demoralized, I fall to my knees, sobbing, making mud with my tears, beating at the ground. Rising to my feet, I swear I’ll tackle him to the ground, but I’m pulled back, surrounded by Jud’s great arms enfolding me in their protection, their humanity and their calm.

  I say no more, but watch as my master disappears into the trees.

  As I hear the truck’s engine rev like some fateful tolling bell, Jud picks me up in his arms and carries me back inside. I sob on his shoulder, hang on as if my life is in the balance. I expect he’ll take me to my cage and in his gruff voice order me to control myself.

  I won’t! I can’t!

  But he doesn’t lock me in the cage, or even beat my ass for my belligerent outburst. He lays me on the bed, on the patchwork quilt. I haven’t felt such softness since the day of my capture. My body falls into the mattress feeling swallowed up inside its comfort. Jud lets go of me just long enough to remove his clothes, then lays down next to me, taking my sad and sorry self into his arms. His body is muscled and hard, and the passion that pours on me now is what I need to comfort my wounded spirit. But it is more than comfort that I receive; I understand his moves are sexual, his body aches just as mine does.

  He holds me, kissing me on the mouth and running his hands over my flesh and its confining harness. His legs scissor with mine and I feel his thick organ press against my leg. I instinctively move myself along his thigh. Only now am I reminded of the gross way I’ve been pierced and how my pussy is now perpetually opened. The new piercings scream with pain, and yet the agony is short-lived. The head of his erection explores the wet spaces of my sex and quickly finds its target.

  “Oh, yes, please fuck me!” I find myself screaming between his perpetual kisses.

  “Hush, girl!” he tells me, then he covers my mouth with another wet kiss.

  While I ache to be filled, while my emptiness begs to be breached, the head of Jud’s cock teases me. By some curious magic it circles about the opening, thrusting lightly, finding ways to massage the most tactile part of my cunt.

  “Goddam yes!” I can’t help myself.

  “Hush!” he says more firmly, while rising up enough to give my face a stern smack.

  “Oh, yesssssssss,” I quietly breathe in, hissing as the tingling sensation on my jaw awakens a deep beast, a quiet rage, something beyond anything I’ve been allowed to feel.

  Jud must feel my urgency, because he rises above me scowling, pinning me down and with a forceful thrust impales me all the way to my cervix. He lunges hard, hammering me now, not with the previous finesse, but with all his faculties consumed in a more violent act. I’m fucking back, pain from my groin keeps the anger in me rising, but the lust boils in us both, until our sweaty bodies seesaw back and forth with cumming spasms jarring loose desire we’ve contained thus far. Our loins beat hard and fast together, our hands claw like animals, our faces meet with bites and fervent kisses as this maddening ecstasy goes on, until vanquished and exhausted Jud peels his skin away from mine and collapses on the bed beside me.

  My pussy continues to throb as both the pain and pleasure come in waves. I think of the piercings and wonder if they’ve been damaged. After a few minutes of faint exhaustion, Jud revives. He’s worried too.

  “Here, let me see,” he says. He hovers over my privates and inspects my labia.

  Apparently, he finds everything still intact.

  “Looks fine,” he reports.

  He lies back again and for a time my mind races about for something to say… something appropriate, maybe witty… or do I ask the questions that burn in me, the ones Benjamin refused to answer. Eventually, my grappling ceases its frenetic activity and find myself dozing. Jud
snores beside me in sleep, still there, still a comfort. I wonder what it would be like to be a lover to this warm body. The idea is not at all strange, but my last thought is of Benjamin. With a twinge of hurt I remember his leaving and feel the loss of him cover me as closely as the quilt Jud tossed over us. No! No! No, I won’t! I refuse to let myself think beyond this bed and this night. For perhaps the first in my life, I’m actually successful in turning off my worried brain and falling into a dreamless sleep.

  It is truly strange not to awaken on a hard metal surface, peering through metal bars at a man’s hardened expression.

  I don’t ache—except for the ache in my crotch and that is truly profound.

  I smell eggs and bacon and freshly made coffee, right up next to my nose. When I open my eyes, there’s Jud, washed and dressed, putting a tray beside me.

  “Eat,” he says.

  I don’t question him about the utensils and the royal treatment. Breakfast in bed is something I never expected. I’m not sure Benjamin would approve, but I let myself enjoy the moment propped up on the pillows, sipping coffee and spooning down scrambled eggs and bacon as though I haven’t eaten in two weeks.

  “I’m going out to close up a few things. You can wash up here; there’s a dress in the bag at the foot of the bed and a pair of sandals.”

  “Thanks.”

  I wish there were something more to say.

  Later, after I’m dressed and Jud’s finished closing up the cabin, we hike out of the woods to the man’s old truck. This is not the truck that brought me here inside the cage, but it’s good enough to wind its way along the bumpy roads and rough terrain of the coastal mountains. It’s not long before we’re on Skyline Blvd headed north. The outside world is all a daze to me, the jumbled streets, the discordant noise, the air filled with foul smells and the thousand empty expressions on a thousand faces. One minute I’m in the woods, the next, I’m at the curb of my apartment building looking up at the white Victorian façade wondering what I’m doing here.