Fifty Shades of Submission
Page 22
“Why did you come back for me?”
She shrugged. “I knew you were gonna need someone to help you. I figured maybe she would leave you locked in the cellar to die of starvation. I don’t mind some fun and games, but I don’t want to be a party to no murder. Anyway, I figured you didn’t deserve to be done in like that.”
Gradually, as the days went by, I began to regain my senses. The pain eased and the scars began to heal and I grew stronger and eventually, one evening, Amun straddled me and we fucked. There was no passion in it. I merely went through the motions to satisfy her and fell asleep lying on top of her, too drained to move.
When I awoke it was morning and Amun had brought me coffee in bed. She sat naked on the side of the bed and looked at me pensively. “That bitch left you some things in the sitting room.”
A cold fist closed around my heart. “What kind of things?”
She shrugged. “Best you come and see for yourself. I’ve made a fire so it’s warm in there.”
I first thing I notice as Amun helps me into the room and seats me on the sofa is the huge rubenesque painting of Saskia and me. It has been unwrapped and is hanging on the wall over the fireplace. The oil paint gleams richly and vividly, the wide canvas framed in a heavy and ornate gilt frame.
“The bitch left you this.” Amun hands me a sealed envelope with my name on it.
I recognize Saskia’s flamboyant handwriting. I open the envelope with trembling fingers and the slave contract and my suicide note fall out. There is also a letter, I begin to read.
Julian,
Now that it’s all over between us and Vassily and I are starting our new life together somewhere far away from here, I suppose I should confess to you that, once, I did indeed love. You yourself, however, stifled my love by your obsessive devotion and your insane fantasy of total submission.
In Vassily I have found a kindred spirit. Whether we will stay together remains to be seen. And whether he will treat me badly only time will tell. And you? You are far better off without me. You will come to realize that in time.
I am enclosing the contract. Take this as formal notification that I have set you free. You are no longer my slave – or anyone else’s.
In memory of our time spent together, I am leaving you our Samson and Delilah portrait. I hope it will remind you of a strange, yet intimate chapter in both our lives.
Fondly,
Saskia.
PS. The lease on the farm will remain in force for another nine months and the rent has been paid in advance. Stay as long as you wish until the lease expires.
PPS. I am not pregnant with your child. When I was married, I was told by a number of gynaecologists that it will never be possible for me to bear children.
PPPS. I have left you some souvenirs with compliments from Aunt Sophia. You did not know this, but she and your stepmother were in fact blood aunts – my father’s sisters. I have left you some video tapes, a VCR and a TV set. I think you will find the viewing riveting. By the way, I was the one who was watching you through Aunt Sophia’s one-way window. Sometimes I also helped her torture you when you were blindfolded. She often let me fuck you, provided I didn’t speak. Bumping into you at the hotel was accidental, however. When I saw you on the terrace that first day I couldn’t believe my luck - fate had thrown us together once again.
I stare at the letter for a long time, my hands shaking so badly I can hardly hold it steady.
“What’s wrong?” Amun said. “You’ve gone as white as a sheet!”
I make no reply. I sit for a long time staring at the words on the paper. Then finally I hurl the letter, the slave contract and my suicide note into the fire with fury and prod the embers until they burst into flame and burn to ashes.
I look up. There’s a TV set, a VCR and a pile of video tapes on the antique chest of drawers.
“Leave the room,” I say to Amun.
She looks at me quizzically. “Why?”
“Get out!” I scream.
She sees the agonized look of ashen fury on my face and leaves without another word, closing the door behind her.
I switch the TV on and slot a tape into the VCR. An image appears instantly on the screen and my heart begins to pound in my ears. I can hardly breathe.
The video is of me. I am blindfolded and hanging suspended upside down from chains in Aunt Sophia’s torture chamber. Saskia is also there, pushing an electrically charged anal prod up my rectum while I scream and sob and beg for mercy. Saskia turns up the voltage, eyes gleaming with excitement.
It was all there. Every torture session with Aunt Sophia carefully documented and recorded. Saskia participated in most of them.
My whole body is shaking. I suddenly began to retch violently and double over and throw up – vomit spewed from my mouth. I continue to heave violently long after there is nothing left to vomit.
Chapter Sixty-Four
I wake up suddenly in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. I am instantly awake and lie in the dark, listening to Amun’s steady breathing as she sleeps next to me.
Saskia had been playing me all along – right from the start. It was the final bitter pill to swallow. It suddenly occurred to me that she might still be playing me. Why had Amun really come back? It was just a little too convenient that she had suddenly appeared just at the right time. Had her mistress sent her to deliver my ‘souvenirs’? To keep tabs on me? To spy on me and report back?
This woman had been in Saskia’s employ for months. Why should I trust her now? Why would I trust any bitch ever again!
Amun is still asleep when I drag her naked body violently out of bed. She is too dazed to fight me off and by the time she’s fully awake I have already tied her hands behind her back and gagged her with the ball gag I found in the bedside cupboard.
I slip the noose over her head and loop the rope over the ceiling beam and take up the slack and pull it tight. She gags and gasps for air. I tie the end of the rope to the burglar guard in the same fashion as the bitch and her Russian lover had done to me.
Amun stares back at me with a terrified look on her face.
I look at her and allow a cold smile to play on my lips. “You’re still working for her, aren’t you? Your mistress?”
She shakes her head violently.
“I bet you’ve been reporting back to that bitch daily!”
Again a fierce shake of the head. Her eyes are wide with terror. She’s trying to say something but nothing is getting past the gag in her mouth other than urgent throaty mewling sounds.
“You’re wasting your breath! I don’t want to hear a fucking thing you have to say anyway – it’ll only be a pack of lies like your whoring mistress!”
I am breathing hard and shaking and force myself to calm down. I take one of her tits in my hand and squeeze hard. Her eyes well up with tears of pain. I smile with satisfaction.
“Let me tell you what I’m going to do with you, bitch. First I’m going to torture you, then I’m going to fuck you. Or is it the other way round? Perhaps I should fuck you first and then torture you. I’m going to tie you up with your legs splayed and then I’m going to fuck you with every blunt object I can find lying around the house!” I chuckle maliciously and she grunts and moans in desperate protest.
The she-devil has left her cigarettes behind and I get them and light one and inhale deeply. I exhale the smoke slowly and deliberately into Amun’s face.
“I took up smoking a few years back but gave it up, did I tell you that? I got bored with it. But you know what, I think I’ll start smoking again, because this little cigarette is actually a simple, yet extremely effective instrument of torture. Did you know that the tip of a cigarette burns at 900 hundred degrees centigrade when you suck it? That’s equivalent to the temperature a red-hot kiln needs to fire a load of ceramics.”
I inhale deeply and then stab the end of the cigarette into her breast and hold it there. Her scream comes out in a gurgling growl, choked back by the ball gag.
I smile coldly. “It’s curious, isn’t it? The smell of burning flesh? It smells a bit like barbecued pork.” I laugh and push the burning cigarette onto her breast once more. Her strangled scream is cut short as a look of utter relief washes over her face and eyes.
She is looking at someone behind me. I turn to see who it is but I’m too late.
Something heavy and hard hits the back of my head and the world turns black as I hit the floor.
Chapter Sixty-Five
When I come to I am tied to one of the hardback chairs that have been brought up from the kitchen. My hands are tied behind me and my feet are tied securely to the legs of the chair.
“He’s awake,” someone says behind me.
I turn my head half expecting to see the she-devil but instead Amun and Osiris come into view. Both women are dressed in ordinary street clothes and are looking at me with concern.
“Sorry I had to hit you, man, but you were getting seriously out of control,” Osiris says. “You were losing it.”
“We’re not working for that bitch,” Amun said. “We came back because we knew that you needed our help.”
“We?” I say dumbly.
Amun nods. “I wasn’t entirely up front with you. I didn’t come back on my own. We both came back together. Osiris decided to stay out of sight so we didn’t freak you out.”
“Did Saskia send you with the videos and the letter?” I say dully. I find saying her name out loud unbearable.
“No,” Osiris says. “They were already here when we got back. She’d left them here before she fucked off with that Russian.”
Amun looked at me sympathetically. “We’re on your side, baby. Believe me, nothing would give me more pleasure than seeing that bitch burn in hell!”
The look in her eyes are sincere and for the moment I decide to believe her. I know, however, that I will never trust another woman as long as I live.
“I hurt you,” I say to Amun at last. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “Forget it. I understand where you were coming from. Hell, in your shoes I woulda prolly done far worse!”
“Let Amun and I help you get strong and get back on your feet,” Osiris says earnestly.
I looked at her handsome Somali face and nod.
Yes, I need my strength back if I am to get my revenge.
I have decided to kill that bitch and her lover.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Today I am beginning a new chapter of my life.
I have been to town and fetched the branding irons from the metal works where I ordered them over a week ago. I also walked into an auto dealership and bought a brand new black SUV for cash. In future I am going to need to be mobile. It’s the first penny of my father’s fortune that I have touched. So far I have ignored my vast inheritance, but now I am going to use it to finance my quest for revenge.
When I came home today Amun seemed withdrawn, her big eyes clearly troubled.
She reached out for my hand. “Don’t do this, Julian,” she implored. “Please.”
But I brushed past her without a word and went upstairs to the bedroom.
As instructed, Amun has made a fire in the hearth and it is burning strongly. I put the branding irons into the flames and light a cigarette and sit down in front of the fire and watch the irons heat up slowly, waiting for them to glow red-hot.
I am beginning to enjoy smoking. I find that it calms my nerves and keeps my hands occupied when they start to tremble for no apparent reason.
After my fourth cigarette the branding irons are ready.
I call downstairs to the women. “It’s time!”
They come upstairs wordlessly and wait while I strip naked. I have bought and placed two huge full-length mirrors in the bedroom – one on each opposite wall. Lately I find that I enjoy watching myself fuck Amun and Osiris in the big canopied bed, watching our bodies sweat and heave, entwined in a sexual ritual of ebony and ivory.
I have discovered that Amun is compassionate by nature and generous with her body. She readily opens her legs for me whenever I am aroused, her vagina a warm and wet receptacle that indulges and satisfies my lust over and over again.
Osiris is more reticent with her favors but she lets me fuck her without resisting too much. She knows I have become quite addicted to her narrow boyish hips and her tight cunt which is gradually becoming wider and more yielding - stretched by my oversized, lubricated cock sliding frantically in and out of her several times each day.
Since the she-devil left I find myself more and more addicted to the daily fix of sex. My sexual sessions with the two women sometimes last for hours, until I am too exhausted to move. I call them sexual sessions because there is no part of it that can be described as lovemaking. When I want to fuck them they let me. Our newfound arrangement is as simple and uncomplicated as that. For the time being, they fill a need in me. And in exchange I offer a roof over their heads and food on the table. I have also arranged with my attorneys to pay them a salary for as long as I need their services. They’re pleased about the money and have doubled their efforts to ensure that I am well fed and sexually satisfied.
Osiris is actually a good cook and we have almost grown into a small dysfunctional family in the last number of weeks. Osiris tells me that, like me, she has no living relatives. Her village in Somalia had been burnt down by warlords. All the men in her village were butchered to death with machetes, and all the women were raped and then barricaded inside a thatch hut that was set alight. They all burnt to death, including her mother and sisters. Osiris managed to escape by hiding in the pig sty.
“Were you raped?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. when the men attacked our village my mother told me to run away and hide.”
“How did you get out of Somalia?”
She shrugged. “I became the lover of a rich and powerful women. She was married to a drug dealer but she liked to fuck me and she took me to America with her as her maid. One night her husband tried to rape me. My door was locked but he broke it down and ran into my room with his ugly big cock standing up. I fought him by plunging a knife into his thigh and managed to get away. I fled from their house and after that I made my own way in the world.”
Osiris tells me that I am the first and only man she has ever been with and that she finds my continual physical attentions unusual and not too unbearably unpleasant.
The three of us know that this arrangement is temporary and that soon we will go our separate ways. No doubt Osiris will go back to fucking women - and I will embark on my journey of revenge.
Now that Saskia is gone the house feels very different. It has lost its exotic flavor and has become quite mundane. It is once again merely an old and very dilapidated stone farmhouse.
At last I stand naked in front of the big mirrors and inspect my body front and back. The new disfigurements that mark my body - courtesy of the she-devil and her Russian lover - have healed. The wounds have mended but the ugly scars remain. The lashes have left raised welts on my chest and back and buttocks and thighs. The name that the she-devil had carved across my groin stare back at me in freshly healed, raised pink scars - Saskia.
I am glad that she has left her mark on me. I am glad that I will never forget her cruelty. I don’t want to forget. I want to taste the bitter gall of revenge in my mouth every day until the moment that it is satisfied.
I have replaced the rings in my nipples and on my testicles where they were before. My mutilations are almost complete.
I turn away from the mirror and looked at Osiris. “I’m ready.”
As discussed, she handcuffs my wrists and ankles to the two foot posts of the bed so that I am spread-eagled with my back to her.
“Do it,” I say.
>
“Are you sure?“ She says uncertainly, hesitating.
“Do it!” I snarl.
Amun puts a wad of cloth in my mouth to bite down on. Osiris take the first red-hot branding iron out of the fire and swiftly burns the letter ‘R’ into my left shoulder blade. I scream involuntarily with pain and bite down hard. I can smell my skin burn with a sickly sweet stench as each branding iron sears its mark relentlessly into my flesh across my back.
The pain is excruciating and eventually I pass out.
When I come to, I am hanging by my restraints. My body is limp and I feel as though my flesh is on fire. Amun is wiping my brow with a cold damp cloth, trying to revive me.
She holds a glass of cognac to my lips. “Drink this. It will help revive you a little.”
“Is it done?” I ask, my voice low and hoarse with pain.
She nods. “It’s done.”
My whole body is shuddering uncontrollably with the aftershock of pain. I drink the cognac slowly, my teeth rattling against the rim of the glass. The amber liquid burns warmly down my throat and slowly begins to settle my nerves.
I lift my head and look at myself in the mirror. I can see the back of my body in the second mirror behind me. The word REVENGE is branded in large savage letter across my back.
This will be my final mutilation.
This will be the one and only word that I will live by from now on.
I am going to get my revenge on the she-devil, her Russian lover, and her sadistic Aunt Sophia.
No matter what the cost.
Table of Contents
PART ONE – SASKIA
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six