Shameful Reckonings

by S. J. Lewis

  They cleaned her. They were very thorough about it. The brush they used looked a lot like one that might be used to wash a car. The bristles were soft, but against Sigrid’s bruised skin they still poked and hurt. She started to complain when one of the men started to wash her between her legs, but the other man shut her up quickly by directing the stream of water right at her face.

  Finally, they were done. They dried Sigrid off with scratchy towels. They even made an effort to dry her dripping hair, but when they stopped it was still very damp. Finally, they freed her from the handcuffs. She was shivering violently as they dragged her along down another corridor and through a massive wooden door. The room on the other side was dark, and they left the door open to let a little light in as they forced Sigrid to her hands and knees on the flagstones. They put a chain around her neck and secured it with a padlock. The other end of the chain was already padlocked to a heavy metal staple anchored in cement. Sigrid was expecting another round of rape, but once she was secured the men got up and left her there. They went back out through the door and shut it behind them. Sigrid was left in utter darkness, wondering what was to come next and dreading whatever it might be.

  Chapter Seven

  Sigrid crouched naked on the flagstones. The darkness was absolute. She couldn’t see anything at all. She couldn’t hear anything either, except for the occasional drip of water from her still-damp hair onto the floor. She waited, trying to steel herself for whatever horrors her captors were going to inflict on her next. But time passed, and nothing happened. That only made things worse.

  She hadn’t gotten much of a look at her new room when they’d dragged her in. Her wet hair had kept falling over her eyes. But they seemed to have dragged her quite a ways once they’d gone through the door. She reached up to comb her hair back with her fingers. She still couldn’t see anything, but she felt a little better. The chain around her neck was too short to let her kneel upright, so she stayed on all fours.

  “Hello?” she called out. Her voice echoed back at her from the darkness. It sounded as if she was in another one of those big, round chambers.

  “Hello?” she tried again. There was no answer, except for the echo of her voice. This was strange. It also struck her as ominous. She did not know what was coming next, but she was sure it would hurt.

  Time passed. Sigrid moved so that she was reclining on the floor. It took the strain off of her knees, but the flagstones were just as cold and hard against her thigh and hip. At least she could move around a little, which was much better than the box she had been nailed up in. She waited. It was all she could do.

  She heard a laugh in the darkness. It was the laugh of a girl or a very young woman. There was no hint of mirth in it, only a note of mocking triumph. Sigrid drew herself into a crouch and looked around, trying to figure out which direction the laugh had come from. The echoes made it impossible. There was another laugh, just as mirthless and mocking and then a powerful spotlight came on, directly over Sigrid. The sudden glare blinded her for a moment. She raised a hand to shield her eyes and blinked as she tried to look around her.

  A small figure stepped slowly into the cone of light. Still blinking, Sigrid squinted at it. The first thing Sigrid could make out was long, dark hair framing a delicate oval face. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the small mouth, button nose and slanted eyes of the Eurasian woman who had been at the club. She did not look so very young now. She was wearing a long, red, high-necked Chinese dress embroidered in yellow that clung tightly to her slim body, accenting the lines of her waist. Dressed as she was, her figure did not look quite so much like a boy’s as it had at the club. The dress was slit up the sides to her hips. Thin sandals protected her feet from the chill of the flagstones.

  “You look quite fetching that way,” the woman said to Sigrid. She tilted her head to one side. “Well, you would if you were not quite so bruised. Get on your hands and knees and let me look at you.” She raised a hand, brandishing a riding crop.

  Sigrid’s immediate impulse was to tell her to go fuck herself, but there was something merciless in those exotic eyes that made her choke the words back. She gulped them down and obeyed, slowly, keeping her eye on the crop. The Eurasian woman smiled, but it was the smile of a cat with a crippled mouse. She slowly walked around Sigrid, tilting her head from one side to the other as she inspected her.

  “Those are truly magnificent tits,” she observed. “Even with you like that, they don’t just hang down.” She reached out with the riding crop and brushed the end of it across Sigrid’s nipple. “I like the way your nipples still point a little outwards. Paul has assured me that your tits are real. They are, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” Sigrid mumbled. The Eurasian woman immediately brought the riding crop down hard across Sigrid’s ass. Sigrid shrieked at the sudden sting, but some inner sense warned her not to move.

  “The correct answer,” the Eurasian woman went on calmly, “is: ‘Yes, mistress,” she said. “Now, try it again.”

  “Yes, mistress,” Sigrid gritted. She did not look at her tormentor.

  “That’s better. A little rough, yet, but it was your first try.” Sigrid felt the wide end of the crop sliding up and down her back gently. She shivered. Something about this strange, small woman frightened her.

  “Bogo did his job a little too well,” the woman went on. “Your lovely skin isn’t broken anywhere, but it will take some time for those marks to fade. I didn’t think you’d need such a vigorous initiation, but Paul insisted. I really like your tan lines. You work very hard on them, don’t you?”

  “Yes, mistress,” Sigrid answered.

  “I think we should let you keep them. They suit you. I’ll have to think of a way to arrange it.”

  Sigrid said nothing. The state of her tan lines was among the least of her worries right now. The Eurasian woman brought the crop down across her ass again. Sigrid’s shriek echoed throughout the chamber.

  “You are not very polite.”

  “T-thank you, mistress,” Sigrid shuddered.

  “That’s better.” Sigrid felt her place the crop down on her back. The Eurasian woman crouched down in front of her. She took a handful of Sigrid’s hair and lifted her head so that they were face to face. Up this close, those dark almond eyes were deep, unreadable and terrifying.

  “I think we will be very good friends. Is this your real hair color?”

  “Y-y-yes, mistress.” Sigrid wanted to look away from those eyes. She couldn’t.

  “Truly? No lying, now.”

  “Truly, mistress,” Sigrid gulped.

  “Very nice,” the Eurasian woman smiled. “I had thought you dyed it and your pubic hair as well. My goodness, you are a treasure.” Her smile faded. “I like that you wax down there, but I’m afraid that we’ll have to shave you.” She smiled brightly, as if expecting an answer.

  “Yes, mistress,” Sigrid agreed.

  “Excellent.” She kept her grip on Sigrid’s hair and reached under with her free hand to fondle Sigrid’s breasts, cupping and squeezing gently. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed. “These are just about perfect!”

  “Thank you, mistress.” Sigrid tried not to sob. It was not the first time another woman had played with her breasts, but she wanted desperately to pull away. She had no idea what wrath “mistress” would unleash on her if she did, so she stayed put, gritted her teeth, and endured. The woman’s hands felt unusually warm.

  “I’m told you refused to suck cock.” The woman kept fondling Sigrid’s breasts as if she couldn’t get enough of them. Her fingertips kept brushing against the nipples, and they began to swell.

  “Yes, mistress,” Sigrid admitted.

  “That’s not very nice, especially after your friend went to so much trouble to learn how to do it exactly right. You watched her service Paul. Did it really look so hard to do?”

  “No, mistress.” Inwardly, Sigrid shuddered. No, it hadn’t looked hard at all. She was no stranger to fellatio. Sometimes, it had
been the quickest way for her to get what she wanted. But she had never cared for it, and had never, ever let a man come in her mouth, let alone swallowed it afterwards. It had not looked hard, but it had looked disgusting, especially the way Amanda had had to do it: Naked, collared and bound in a bare little cell.

  “Well, then, perhaps next time you won’t be so shy about it.”

  “I-I don’t like it, mistress,” Sigrid protested weakly. She steeled herself for another stinging blow from the riding crop. Instead, the other woman only laughed.

  “You fool,” she said pleasantly. “Do you think it matters here what you like or don’t like? Do you think I care?”

  “No, mistress.” Sigrid sobbed openly this time. She had known it all along, but being made to admit it to this strange, frightening woman brought the horror of her situation home to her too strongly. She began crying. She couldn’t stop.

  “Tears?” the Eurasian woman observed. “They’re useless here. You know that.”

  “I-I-I know, mistress,” Sigrid gulped out between sobs.

  The woman let go of Sigrid’s breasts. The nipples were hard now, even though Sigrid had felt no pleasure at all in the woman’s touch. She stood up again and walked around behind Sigrid. Sigrid gave a start when she felt those warm fingers exploring her.

  “One of the loveliest pussies I’ve ever seen,” the woman said admiringly. “Nice, plump pink lips, and it’s all pink inside, too. It will look even better after we’ve shaved you and you’ve had a chance to heal up a little. You’ve been used very hard, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  “Gorgeous ass, too,” the woman went on, “round and firm and nicely shaped.” Her fingers slid along Sigrid’s thighs. “Women would kill for legs like these. How do you keep in such perfect shape?” Her hands squeezed Sigrid’s calves.

  “Yoga, mistress.”

  “Hm. Well, we’ll have to make sure you keep it up. Perhaps you could teach some of the other women here. Not all of them come here in such excellent condition. How tall are you?”

  “Five-eleven, mistress.”

  “Yes, you’re a tall girl. I’d say you weigh about one-fifty-five? Maybe a little more with those tits and hips?”

  “One-sixty, mistress,” Sigrid replied.

  “Just gorgeous,” the woman said, apparently to herself. “Oh, we’ll get a spectacular price for you, once you’ve been properly trained and conditioned.”

  Sigrid shuddered. Properly trained? And conditioned?

  “Tell me, bitch,” the woman said. “Have you ever taken a cock up your gorgeous round ass?”

  “No, mistress.”

  “Well, that will be something new for you, then. But I think you should be allowed to heal up a bit more before we do that. Still,” the woman went on brightly, “there’s no reason why you can’t learn your lessons on oral sex while you’re healing.”

  “Please… please no, mistress…” Sigrid hated herself for begging.

  “Nonsense,” the woman said. Sigrid felt those warm hands on her hips. They slid slowly up to her waist. “It’s not that hard. You have all the equipment. Perhaps you just need some special incentive.”

  It didn’t feel like a question. Sigrid kept silent.

  “We have different methods of persuasion here. Usually after one session with Bogo a woman is terribly anxious to please. You seem a bit different than most women, though.”

  The hands slid under Sigrid and fondled her breasts again. Sigrid could feel the other woman’s body pressing up against her. It took an effort for her not to move.

  “So,” the other woman continued, “what other methods of persuasion might work on you? Oh, those nipples get very hard, don’t they?”

  Sigrid shuddered and bit her lower lip.

  “Let’s see… do you know what strappado is? That’s where your hands are tied behind you and then pulled up as high as they can go. It’s most uncomfortable, I’m told. Most women can bear it for only a few minutes.”

  Sigrid squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she could do the same with her ears. The woman’s voice had taken on an intimate, purring quality, as if they were sharing some very private secret. Except for the two swats with the riding crop she had been very gentle. Even so, Sigrid was growing more and more terrified of her, and she could not say why.

  “It would be very entertaining to see you like that. I could record it and show it to your friend. But that would be so crude and brutal, and you really don’t need more physical abuse, do you?”

  “N-no, mistress,” Sigrid agreed.

  “Mmmm… perhaps we could do it to your friend, and make you watch? Would that make you more pliable?”

  Sigrid sobbed.

  “Yes, that would probably work, but it’s not very creative, and you might decide to bite instead of suck out of a desire for revenge. What shall we do? That’s a rhetorical question, Sigrid. You don’t have to answer.”

  “Thank you, mistress.” Sigrid wasn’t sure if she should have thanked her tormentor or not. It had seemed safest to do so.

  “I was thinking of threatening your friend to make you more cooperative, but I don’t think that would be very effective either.” The woman tweaked Sigrid’s nipples lightly. Her ministrations had been skillful and effective. Those nipples were achingly sensitive now. Sigrid fought back a cry and tried to ignore the fact that her breasts now felt warm and heavy and tingling.

  “No,” the woman continued. She released Sigrid’s teats and stood up. “I thought of many things, but I’m afraid most of them would only be wasted effort. It’s not as if I was asking you to enjoy it, Sigrid. Just obey. Would that be so hard, really?”

  Sigrid gulped. “Yes, mistress,” she replied. She tensed in anticipation of more punishment. Instead, the woman laughed again.

  “So very brave of you, to give me an honest answer,” she said as she stooped in front of Sigrid. She put a hand under Sigrid’s chin and lifted her head so that they were eye-to-eye again. There was an unholy glee in those dark eyes.

  “Let me show you what I finally decided to do,” she smiled. Sigrid felt a cold terror growing in her belly. The woman stood up and clapped her hands twice. Sigrid kept her head up. Whatever horror the woman had in mind, she would face it.

  Two dark forms approached. They were large and bulky and walked on four legs. Sigrid heard nails clacking against the flagstones. They were dogs, huge black and tan dogs with long, drooping ears. Their tongues were lolling out of their mouths. They came up to the little Eurasian woman and halted, their eyes on Sigrid.

  “These are my special pets,” the woman smiled. “They are excellent guard dogs, and they’re absolutely devoted to me.” She stroked their shaggy heads. Neither dog moved or looked away from Sigrid. Both of them were male. Terrible thoughts began crowding their way through Sigrid’s imagination. She tried to shrink away, but the chain around her neck would not permit it.

  “Please, mistress,” she begged. “Please, no!”

  “’No’ what?” the woman acted genuinely puzzled. “Aren’t they beautiful animals? They’ve been very well trained, but left to themselves they’re as playful as a couple of puppies.”

  They did not look like puppies to Sigrid. One of them yawned, showing a mouthful of big, sharp teeth.

  “Please, mistress!” Sigrid was crying now. “Please, let me go. I’ll give you money!”

  “I’m disappointed in you, Sigrid,” the woman shook her head sadly. “Don’t you think I’ve heard that before?” She came over and retrieved her riding crop from its resting place on Sigrid’s back.

  “A lot of money, mistress!” Sigrid was frantic now.

  “Really, Sigrid, you’re carrying this much too far,” the woman said. “There is no way out of here for you. The sooner you come to accept that, the sooner we can continue with your training. Do you think I like having to mete out discipline to foolish women?”

  Sigrid thought that she probably liked it very much. This woman was stark, r
aving mad, and a sadist to boot. She shuddered violently, seized by dry heaves. Had there been anything in her stomach, she would have vomited it up.

  “I’ll give you a moment to gather yourself, Sigrid,” the woman said. “Then I’m afraid we must proceed with your discipline.”

  “No…” Sigrid moaned between heaves. “No, mistress… I’ll… obey.” She was down on her elbows and knees now, gasping for breath. She couldn’t bring herself to look up at the woman or her terrible dogs.

  “What was that?” the woman asked.

  “I’ll obey, mistress!” Sigrid wailed. “Please, please, I’ll obey!”

  “Well, now, was that really so hard?” The woman sounded pleased. “You were bound to do it sooner or later.”