We slapped him again then covered his mouth and nose with the gloved hand. “Anything, you say?” We feigned consideration. “I have an awfully vivid imagination, Mr. Stern.” He struggled to talk through the gloved hand, before we released our grasp.
Stern gasped for air, his chest heaving with the bright red streak across it. “Yes…yes…anything.”
We nodded, “Very well.” We grabbed a piece of his shredded pajamas and stuffed it more firmly into the back of his mouth. “We want to beat the sin from your body. Thirty hits for each of the children and women you molested.” We both smiled at this, “It is going to be a long night.”
The beast laughed through my teeth with each resounding crack of the riding crop, giggling as Stern’s bloated form jiggled. “Oh this is exactly what the doctor ordered,” he exclaimed gleefully at one point and backhanded the old man viciously. I cannot say that I did not enjoy the display as I allowed him to torture the sin from the old man’s body. However, I would have been much more eloquent in my execution. Verbalization tends to ruin the moment for me; I chose my words much more carefully.
For an hour, he beat Mr. Stern, covering every inch of his body with welts he would never forget, just as those he victimized would never forget. Unfortunately, he did nothing to warrant death, so when we were finished, we knocked him unconscious and cut a sliver of flesh from his torso – he had plenty to spare – and left him handcuffed. I carefully erased our presence from the home, leaving no trace. We exited into the night, leaving him to be found by the reporter from the Richmond Times Dispatch, whom we called from a Stern’s phone when we were safely distant from the home.
“Ahh,” The beast sighed with satisfaction. “That was quite fun, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” I agreed, but I was more pleased that this would sate him for at least another week, allowing me to focus on my new pet and her training. Without his constant complaints and the research time, I could spend quality time with her, instructing her in her new role. As we rode the rest of the way back to my home, he fell asleep in the back of my mind – thankfully filled with the sin of such a pathetic man. Without my temperance and guidance, he would have simply devoured the man. But we cannot have an unleashed beast roaming the streets. There is still innocence in the world.
The next morning I fixed an omelet, including the trophy from Mr. Stern’s ample supply, he did indeed taste quite like pork. Each bite brought a small smile to my mouth as I read the story about our task the previous night. “Congressman Stern Confesses!”
It was seldom that our work went unheeded. The beast had been brutal to the now defamed Mr. Stern, a beating he would never forget nor would he ever want to repeat. But, in prison, as irony would have it, child molesters were usually victimized in the same manner in which they had victimized others. He would not survive, but it was not our responsibility to deliver death without the sin of death. Mr. Stern would be swiftly punished to save face for his political party, deals made, monies paid and a symphony of sighs and sobs would issue from the mouths of the vindicated.
“Sir?” Number One inquired timidly, interrupting my breakfast cautiously. She quietly entered the kitchen and was knelt at my side.
“Yes?” I asked not looking up from the paper.
“She’s requesting your presence.”
I looked down at Number One, eyebrow raised. “Requests aren’t allowed. Did you explain that to her?”
Number One nodded quickly, “Yes, Sir. She is insisting.”
“Insis…” I started, flabbergasted. “Go prepare the rack, while I go deal with this insolence.”
I had overestimated my control. Clearly she did not understand where things were going. But, I had met with resistance before, and I was sure I’d have it under control in a few days. I had many methods for breaking individuals, but I had hoped she would submit and accept more willingly. While I was exhilarated by the thought of a challenge, I did not have the time to play with her. The world was changing rapidly, and soon our mission would change, the beast and I were to evolve. We both knew that the timeline was shortening at an alarming rate, and that there were others, more powerful at our heels.
I strode up to the room, where she lie still bound and naked on the bed, her lips a lovely shade of blue from the temperature in the room, shivering. However, at the time, it did not register through my rage, but she seemed to have sustained no lasting marks from the night before. This was intriguing and troubling to me.
“What?” I asked as I flung open the door.
“Please, Sir,” she said against the gag, which had come loose. “Please.”
“Please what?” I responded, raising a brow.
“More,” she whispered, timidly. “More, Sir.”
“You don’t get to ask for anything, pet Number Five,” I said pithily then shut the door.
Number Two and Four were lounging on the bench by the window, laying in the sunlight when I exited. I beckoned them over to me.
“Clean her up, take her down to the play room and put her on the rack,” I said and they dutifully complied.
I returned to my breakfast, but something in the back of my mind nagged in the place of my beast. Something told me that I should release Number Five and move on to someone less willful, but I never shy away from a challenge, she would submit, they always do. Charlotte was an aberration, an unfortunate event in my life. She would have submitted eventually, but the body can only endure so much, much less than the mind.
In the late afternoon, after allowing Number Five to understand the extent of my displeasure with her, I entered the basement, our playroom. I had collected a great many devices of torture – and pleasure – over the years. One of my favorite items was a rack I had built myself, which all of my pets have experienced at one point or another. It was designed to allow the arms and legs to be adjusted in a spread eagle position, allowing me unhindered access to the body for any type of punishment necessary. Under the glow of a black light, Number Five was bound thusly, straps binding her arms, legs and mid-section, a gag over her mouth, and blind-folded.
“One,” I said to my dutiful pet. “Bring me the clamps.”
“Yes, Sir,” she responded without hesitation and went to the cabinet on the far wall, where I kept my instruments of discipline. Thankfully, the beast was still asleep from our game of beat the politician – I could take my time. Nearby, the other three pets watched from their mattress, I knew they were just as anxious to see her reactions as I was. They had grown to enjoy the punishments, because they knew it brought happiness to our home. We would not allow this foolish pet to think she had the wherewithal to defy me.
I took the nipples clamps and affixed them to my newest pet, her body responded immediately to my touch and she struggled against the restraints, her hips undulating like a whore riding a john. I then attached the chain between the clamps to another chain dangling above the rack, pulling her nipples and breasts taut and upright. I knew that it was not, in itself, going to deter her – most of the pets had grown to enjoy the rack, humans are such predictable, simple animals. We would have to sate the insatiable, which I had become exceedingly good at.
“Do you still want more?” I whispered in her ear before biting it hard enough to draw blood.
She nodded her head, with a muffled moan, fighting against the restraints.
I have found that if someone is never sated with a particular thing, one must overdose on that thing until they desire it no longer. Treat gluttony with gluttony. In this case, if she wanted more, I would give her more, but not in the sense she wanted. This was not about her desires, it is always about my desires, and she would learn that. If I wanted to use her, it would be when I wanted to use her. Her desires were, and always would be, irrelevant. For this particular punishment, I had a special machine, which would wear out her secret spot until she did not want it anymore.
I rolled the device from the corner of the room, and placed it on a track and gently pushed the apparatus bet
ween her legs until the artificial phallus was just touching the red velvet folds of her glistening lily. She squirmed, but was unable to escape.
“Remember,” I said as I turned on the switch and the apparatus churned to life. “Too much of anything is never a good thing, my pet.”
I engaged the surrogate phallus, which went slowly at first so I could gauge the depth, and then I adjusted a dial to make it move more rapidly. As I suspected, she responded to the device willingly, but that would change over the course of unrelenting hours.
“When you have had enough,” I said, opening the clenched fingers on her right hand, and placing a single sleigh-bell in her palm of her hand, “release the bell and I will return.”
I grabbed her chin in my hand and yanked it in my direction. “Do you understand, my bad pet?”
She was moaning and whimpering against the gag, but nodded.
“Good,” I said tersely and smacked her hard on the inner thigh, before walking over to where my other pets were waiting, watching with languid, sensual smiles as they observed their new sister.
“One,” I said in an annoyed tone. “When she drops the bell, come and fetch me.” I waved a hand dismissively in number Fives direction. “And I want you to increase the speed by one notch every fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, Sir,” Number One responded dutifully.
“She’ll never make it to 6,” I said, as I remembered only Charlotte made it to six, and that proved fatal. “Two and Three, to my bedroom. I will give you what Number Five so desires.”
It was unfair of me, but I would have to take out my frustration on the others. I would never allow any of them to know that I was angered by the affair, it was my responsibility to remain calm, careful, and collected. Anger was food for the beast, and I could feel him stirring at my agitation. Though he was an immense burden on my soul, we shared a symbiotic relationship, which greatly benefited us both. He empowered me in ways of which I am unable to speak aloud or write down or the agreement would be void. The only true place of secrecy is in the depths of one’s mind. No one but the creator, the architect, can see into the mind of his constructs. But, since I was now the ‘creator’ of my pets, I could see into their minds. Number Five’s mind would remain dark to my vision until her training was complete. I would destroy her and rebuild her to my vision, our vision.
While my newest pet was being conditioned, I abused and used Two and Three relentlessly, all the while the beast threatening to wake under the noise of my internal irritation – but he did not. One of my favorite forms of relaxation was to savagely violate one pet, while the other administered punishment on her. Then of course, this would be repeated on the other until I was sufficiently sated and calmed. It was nearly three hours when I was to the point of exhaustion and dismissed the pets back to their room, and settled down for a nap.
Hours later, Number One stirred me gently from my sleep. “Sir?” This was usually a punishable offense, but in this instance, she had been instructed to tell me when the bell had dropped.
“Is she ready to submit?” I asked standing and dressing myself.
“The bell has dropped, Sir,” she said timidly. “But I think it’s because she’s unconscious. She is alive, though.”
“Very well,” I responded thoughtfully. “Did she make it past six?”
Number One shook her head slowly, “No, Sir. Only four.”
I nodded, “Turn off the device, and remove her bonds. She will need to be cleaned and fed. And later this evening we will collar her so we can continue to the next phase.”
“Yes, Sir,” she responded quickly, and moved towards the door.
“Also,” I said in afterthought. “Put her in the cage for now. Just in case she’s had second thoughts. If she leaves, it will be on my terms and not hers.”
The fact that she had not made it to six was quite encouraging. She may lose her residual will sooner than I had expected. This pleased me deeply for the process of breaking a pet was not nearly as enjoyable as training. But, to be trained they must be broken. The training itself would be exhausting for her, her entire way of life was about to change, and humans are generally resistant to change. Everything she knew about herself – how to act, what she wanted, what she ate and what she dreamed, would be expunged from her soul and replaced with my will.
When I entered the kitchen, Number Four was preparing food for her and her sisters. Each of them was on a specially designed liquid diet, no solid foods were allowed except for small treats, which I would reward for exemplary deeds. This allowed me to control their weight, their health and their state of mind all at once. As I have said, pets require a great deal of attention, and a satisfactory owner will spend the time necessary to properly care for his possessions. Because it is generally frowned on for one person to own human pets, all of their care fell solely on my shoulders. No one knew that they were even here.
As the sun set, I dined alone in my study, making notes in my journal about the events of the day. The night before had been more eventful than usual, so I had a great deal to chronicle. After which, I burned all of number Five’s clothes, and any other flammable possessions, in the fire. The rest of her belongings were placed in the safe hidden behind the Louis Icart “Telling Secrets” painting on the wall behind my desk – which for security purposes, would explode if anyone attempted to open it incorrectly. Everything must always be carefully calculated.
Because I had never asked her name, I did not need to forget it. The person who had entered my home the night before was dead, forever an unsolved mystery, immortal in a sense, because some idealistic detective would spend his sad, dwindling days searching for the girl who did not want to be found. I had done this so many times before, that it had become second nature, just like feeding the beast. Once that collar was fastened around her sublime, milky skin, the black leather in stark contrast and unmistakable, she would be mine for as long as I desired it. I shuddered at the thought, the smell of the leather mixed with her female scents was intoxicating, one of my favorite indulgences. The sexual aspect of my relationship with my pets was the least important. It was the control and worship, the complete and utter dependency on my intellect and care – I was their god. But also, I knew that I would require the assistance of my pets in the days and years to come. They would ultimately be expendable in the wake of my own survival.
At 9:00 I descended into the basement once more, four of the pets were lounging on their mattresses, speaking quietly amongst themselves. In the corner, in a cramp birdlike cage, number Five was suspended, sipping from her cup and watching the others silently. They did not notice my presence immediately as I listened and observed. I am sure to understand every aspect of my pet’s lives, and by observing them from the shadows, I could anticipate issues before they could arise. While I did not feel that death was ever a viable option, they knew I was capable of unrelenting punishment that would make them wish for death. But, this evening all of my pets were being well behaved, even number Five as she rocked herself gently in the cage. Despite the inherent darkness, it was pastoral to watch – and I stood there like an artist admiring his work, yet the scene was still quite unfinished.
“Pets,” I barked stepping from the darkness. The four scurried to kneel before me, while number Five kept her head down, floating helplessly in the cage.
“Yes, Sir,” the four responded in unison, number Five a fraction of a second behind. Sloppy, but excusable.
“We will be teaching my newest pet what it means to submit to my will.” I said stepping over to the cabinet in the corner. “But, first, I wish for you to recite the rules so that she may hear. After this evening, it is your responsibility to see that she memorizes them, and complies.” I returned to stand before them. “And why is it your responsibility?”
“Rule number one,” they began in perfect unison. “Any pet that breaks a rule will cause all pets to be punished.”
“Excellent,” I said with no masked pride. Rules are the most impor
tant aspect of the training. Rules bring order to an otherwise chaotic existence. Rules, above all else, ensure the continued benefits of my protection and care.
“You may continue,” I motioned with a dismissive gesture.
“Rule number two – A pet may never make their presence known to anyone beyond the walls of this house.
Rule number three – A pet must remain clean at all times and ready for inspection.
Rule number four – A pet must never eat anything other than what it is told by the master.
Rule number five – A pet must not wake the master unless given previous permission to do so.
Rule number six – A pet must never request anything from the master unless given permission to do so.
Rule number seven – A pet must not speak to the beast, even if spoken to.”
The seventh rule was very important. My shadow must never influence my pets.
“Rule number eight,” they continued their litany perfectly. “A pet is not permitted to sleep or lay on any furniture upstairs unless given permission.
Rule number nine – A pet must never remove their collar or ID tag.
Rule number ten – A pet must always address the master as Sir.
Rule number eleven – A pet may never wear clothes unless given permission.
Rule number twelve – A pet must never, under any circumstances, look the master in the eyes.
Rule number thirteen – The rules are subject to change at the will of the master. New rules or changes must be memorized immediately.”
I looked over at number Five. “Do you understand the rules, pet number Five?”
“Yes, Sir,” she responded in a small, shaky, fearful voice. My punishment seemed to have had an impact on her willingness to comply.
“Good girl,” I said and motioned to the others. “Prepare her as you’ve been taught.”
“Yes, Sir,” they responded again before hastening to lower number Five from her cage.
The ritual was simple and elegant in its execution. The four trained pets clad their newest sister in a nearly transparent gown, similar to the one she had worn the night before, except this gown reacted with ultraviolet light, causing it to glow ethereally. This would be the last time she would be the center of anyone’s attention.
Immortal Memories Page 8