by Paul Preston
“I know nothing about your father… What is your name, slave?”
“Belle, Sire.”
“No child. Your name is submissive, or slave. You have disappointed me.”
Belle bowed her head.
“I did not wish to disappoint you, Sire.”
“And when your master is disappointed, a punishment must be given. Do you understand me, slave?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Are you afraid of being punished, submissive?”
“Yes I am, Sire.”
“Are you willing, despite your fear, to bear this pain in love and devotion for your master?”
“It is my honor to be disciplined by you, Master.”
“It would in fact, please you, even arouse you, to be punished by me? Say it.”
“It would please me,” Belle said, bowing her head further, “even arouse me to be punished by you, Master.”
“In fact, it makes you wet to please your master. You’re wet for me right now. Say it.”
“I’m wet for you, Master.”
Watching this horrific scene play out, Laura could hardly breathe. She felt sweat on her forehead, her neck and under her arms. She became dizzy, with a nervous queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her lips were dry. She licked them and swallowed. She wanted to do something to prevent this innocent girl from being punished for simply stating her name to this masochist. She had never disturbed or walked out of a performance in the theater in her life, so out of respect for the actors, Laura remained silent.
But this was not a legitimate theatrical production, was it?
It didn’t seem as if the girl or the character the girl was playing was the slightest bit nervous about being punished. In fact, it seemed by her sultry voice and the tilt of her head that she was excited by the idea, sexually excited. Laura wanted to cry out, scream and run out of the theater. But she couldn’t speak or move. No matter how much she wished to look away, her eyes were riveted to the scene on stage, more than any performance she’d ever seen before. But the most disturbing and shocking sensation was that under her panties she felt her own wetness. It was as if what was happening to the girl on stage was also happening to her. Laura felt moisture growing somewhere deep inside of her.
How could watching this revolting scene make me become so wet? I don’t understand.
Laura could feel herself open, in a way she wished she’d been able to open for her husband on her wedding night. She felt confused and ashamed of herself, as this delicious moisture spread between her inner thighs. To stop her sexual response to the scene, she clenched her thighs together tightly, but it only intensified the pleasurable sensations. The more she tightened her muscles, the more she could feel the wet lips of her sex curl open, dampening the thin cotton material of her panties.
“What is your safe word, child?”
“Nightingale, Sire.”
“Very good then, songbird. Turn your back to me.”
The man took out a long sharp knife that shimmered in the stage lights. He raised it up, point forward, behind her. Laura’s hand clutched at her throat. The man lowered the knife and cut through the rope tethering her wrists. The man ceremoniously put the knife down and returned to his position across the stage.
“Thank you from freeing me from bondage, Master. May I now relieve the pain in my wrists, Sire?
“You may.”
Belle rubbed her chafed wrists.
“Now remove your clothing, set them down at my feet and prepare to be disciplined.”
“It will be my pleasure to disrobe for you, Sire.”
Belle bowed formally, stepped forward to face the man and slipped out of her heels. She slowly and seductively removed her stockings, her camisole, and her undergarments. Holding the lingerie and shoes in arms outstretched, she bowed low to the man, her heavy breasts bobbing low to the floor, her back arched. She laid the clothes in a pile with her shoes on top at the man’s feet and gracefully reclined into a reverent, prone position in front of the man, forehead on the floor, arms outstretched, palms up.
The magic of stagecraft made a free-standing thin block of wood rise out of an opening in the floor. Laura couldn’t help but be impressed with the high-tech effect, much more sophisticated than anything she saw in the main theater complex in her time at Cal State. The block of wood had a round circle cut into its middle and two smaller circles cut into each side of the bigger circle.
Am I losing my mind? It can’t be. It is…
The set piece that had arisen from the floor looked like an exact replica of the stock and chains used in her college production of “The Crucible”. The characters accused of witchcraft would be held captive in public humiliation, locked into the stock, their head stuck through the middle, their arms locked into the smaller holes.
“Stand, slave, head bowed and arms outstretched.”
The man opened the upper half of the block of wood.
“Enter and submit yourself to punishment.”
Belle knelt down, voluntarily placing her head and arms through the holes. The man lowered the upper half over her and clicked shut the heavy duty large metal lock. He stood in front of her bowed head. With the end of a riding crop he lifted Belle’s chin.
“With your free hands, unzip my pants and undress me.”
“As is my pleasure, Sire.”
Belle slowly unzipped the man, pulled down the waist of his pants and his enormous thick veined penis uncoiled. It frightened Laura to see this man’s penis and she gasped when she saw it. In the darkness between them, Laura sought out and found Stephen’s fingers and clasped them tightly in one hand. With the other hand she partially covered her eyes, but not enough to completely block her view. It was the only other time in her life she had seen a man’s private part, other than her husband’s. But compared to Roger, the ugly man’s penis was more than twice as large and thick, almost as if it was some sort of alien life form attached to but living apart from its host. The hair had been completely shaved off of it, making it seem even larger to the eye. The testicles seemed abnormally swollen. She wanted to look away from the man’s hideous erection, but could not.
“Laura, are you OK? Do you want to leave?” Stephen whispered in Laura’s ear, but she appeared not to hear him.
The ugly man spoke.
“Now, for not referring to yourself as a submissive in my presence, you will receive several hard and painful slaps to your sweet young ass with this slapping board.”
The man held up what looked like a thin piece of wood with a handle at one end.
“Are you ready to accept your discipline?”
“I will face my punishment with a loving heart for you, My Lord.”
“You are a very good and obedient sub. Place your lips on the head of my cock.”
“No,” Laura whispered, letting go of Stephen’s hand.
Laura felt the presence of someone near her. She turned her head to see a large man towering over her in the dark, staring down at her. He stood so close she could smell his cologne. The attractive scent made her knees weak. In the dark, a sexual fantasy played through Laura’s mind. She imagined leaning her body against the strange man, her wrists suddenly tied tightly behind her. She imagined sliding down his long muscled body to her knees. She looked up at him and rubbed her cheek over the hard length of his erection.
Why am I having a sexual fantasy for this stranger in the dark?
He leaned in toward her and breathed in her scent. She realized that the moisture between her thighs caused her to have a musky raw smell of sex.
If I can smell it, can he smell it too?
She could see the whites of his eyes in the dark, continuing to stare at her. She turned away from him and inched closer to Stephen, her fingers reaching out and finding his hand again.
“With each successive slap you as my submissive will take my cock deeper and deeper down into your throat. With each slap you will suck harder and harder until I empty the contents of my cock in
to your mouth and down your throat. Despite the pain, at no time will you be allowed to stop sucking. You will not remove your lips from my cock until you have swallowed the entire load of my come. Do you understand?”
“I will not remove my lips until I have swallowed all of your come, My Lord.”
“After I have finished with your mouth, I will continue to abuse your ass with sharp hand slaps, until your cheeks are red and raw, and I will not stop until I hear your safe word. Are you ready?”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Then place your lips on the head of my cock please.”
“It is my pleasure to submit to you, Sire.”
Belle took his thick stalk in her right hand and cupped his balls in her left, swallowing as much of his manhood as she was able. Laura began breathing deeply, a hand clutching her chest.
“No, no,” Laura whispered.
“Laura, we can leave. Let’s go,” Stephen said.
The man gave Belle a hard slap that echoed throughout the theater. The submissive inhaled sharply, with her lips still around his thrusting cock. The slap left a red rectangular mark on her right cheek.
“One,” he said.
A second more violent slap on her other cheek caused Belle to open her mouth wider and exclaim in pain. Tears filled and fell out of her eyes, streaking the sides of her face with black mascara.
“Two,” he said.
A third hard slap, this time on the back of her left thigh, appeared to make Belle work faster to bring him to orgasm, sucking on the man’s shaft with her mouth and stroking his shaft with her hands.
“Stop it. Stop it!” Laura shouted out in a shaky but clear voice.
A few heads in the audience turned to look in her direction.
“Three,” he said.
On the fourth slap the man moaned in pleasure. Belle removed her mouth from his shaft and kissed his testicles, sucking and licking on one, then the other, while stroking his shaft with both hands. She kissed his throbbing cock once more, using the saliva from her mouth to pull up and down with both hands around his shaft in a frantic jerking motion. Laura could distinctly hear the wet sloshing sounds all the way at the back of the auditorium. As she tugged on him, Belle opened her mouth, and placed her tongue underneath the rim of his penis. As the man pulled back the paddle for a fifth slap, Laura finally found her voice and screamed.
“Stop it! Stop it! You’re hurting her! I’m going to call the police! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”
Laura buried her face in her hands, sobbing loudly. Some of the other men in the audience, thinking it was a joke, laughed out loudly. Stephen saw heads at the tables in front of them craning back to see who caused the disturbance and a few indoor security personnel looked in their direction. The performers on stage stopped the show and looked into the audience. Stephen immediately ushered Laura by her shoulders through the curtain and out of the theater before security could stop them. In the parking lot, Laura violently shook Stephen’s hands off her shoulders.
“Get your hands off me! Who do you think you are?”
“Please, Laura, you’re shaking. Calm down. Try to calm down.”
“How could you call yourself a Christian and allow that horrible show to go on?”
“I can see you’re upset. Please try to calm down. I didn’t want you to see that.”
“Is this where you’ve chosen to work, Stephen? A place where helpless women are exploited by cruel men for the entertainment of the audience, in some kind of perversion of a children’s fairy tale?”
“You’ve misread the relationship. It’s really all based on trust.”
“What? Trust? How can there be any trust when women are painfully tied up, forced to expose their bodies in shameful ways, to worship at the feet of brutal men while they beat them and do unspeakable acts to them? Where do these poor desperate women come from? Are they off the street? Runaways? Prostitutes?”
“I know that may be how it seems to an outsider, but Belle is a willing participant, a paid performer, she’s worked here for years, in all that time she’s never been hurt. She’s actually a very nice per...”
“She’s never been hurt? What do you call what I just witnessed?”
“The slapping? It stings at first, but it goes away shortly, leaving behind a tingling sensation.”
“I’ve heard enough. She was beaten; she was raped in the mouth. If she’s not being forced, then how could... why would she…?”
“It’s hard to explain, but there exists something within Belle that in fact desires to...”
“That’s enough. I’ve heard enough from you. How could anyone desire to be taken advantage of like that? I thought you were a better man than this. How could you be a part of that perversion? I don’t know what you are but you certainly aren’t a Christian.”
“You’re right, Laura. I’m not a Christian. Perhaps I’ve never been one…”
Stephen looked down to the ground. Laura saw the pained look in his eyes and immediately regretted snapping at him, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“It’s wrong of you to defend those disgusting acts. No good Christian would allow it.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I can see what you saw upset you.”
“You’re no longer welcome at our church.”
“I know, I understand. I won’t come back.”
Laura bent over, clutching at her chest.
“I think I’m having some sort of nervous breakdown. Everything’s falling apart. I’m scared, help me, oh God, help me”-
“Laura, listen, just breathe, you’re not having a breakdown of any kind, you’re just upset, that’s all, and you have a right to be, you’re hyperventilating, you just need to catch your breath, that’s all, yes, that’s better, that’s it, breathe, calm down, you’re going to be OK.”
Stephen’s words have a soothing effect on Laura and after breathing deeply, she straightened up.
“Laura, I don’t feel comfortable with you driving just yet. Listen, there’s a coffee shop right around the corner, it’s still open. Why don’t we go have a cup of herbal tea and relax? What do you say?”
Laura nodded her head yes.
“Good. Come with me, Laura.”
They walked in silence, Laura’s arms crossed tightly around her chest. Stephen tried to make a joke to break the tension.
“Thank goodness for coffee, right? If there wasn’t a coffee shop on every corner, the whole town would probably fall asleep and not wake up for 100 years…”
Laura did not respond, but Stephen could feel her beginning to calm down a little.
At the counter, Stephen asked if she would like a pastry, but Laura refused to talk or make eye contact with him. He ordered the two teas, paid for them, led Laura to a booth, helped her sit down, and then sat across from her. They both sipped their tea in silence for a few minutes.
“Laura? Can you look at me?”
She took a last sip of her tea, stood up, looked at Stephen, thanked him for the tea, and told him though their church served both saints and sinners alike, she’d prefer it if he would never go to Our Savior again. He agreed. She turned to leave and Stephen offered to walk her to her car. She said no thank you and walked out the door. Stephen watched her from the window get into her car safely and drive off.
Goodbye, Laura.
Diary Entry: Stephen
I feel something. Finally. After all these years of being dead I’ve opened my heart to love again, to desire, to pain. And I have you to thank. You were the key. I know I will never see you again, but thank you for bringing a dead man back to life. My Laura. May you have a good life, my love.
Diary Entry: Laura
Dear Diary,
I just woke up from another most extraordinary dream. I was driving by myself. Through a forest. Late at night. In my headlights I saw Roger standing at the side of the road and he watched me as I drove by without stopping. I kept driving, through the tall trees, lost on this dirt road. I was scared. All of a sudden,
Stephen was in the car beside me, which comforted me.
“Pull over, up ahead,” he said.
I parked, turned off the headlights and we got out into the darkness, into the cool air.
“Here,” he said, handing me a flashlight.
We walked together down a dirt path, through a clearing. I had the feeling I’d been here before. We walked on. I smelled the ocean and heard the sound of waves crashing against rocks.
“It’s just up ahead, a few more feet. We’re almost there.”
We walked on a few more feet.
“Turn off the flashlight,” he said.
“But I won’t be able to see,” I said.
“Don’t be scared, hold my hand. Don’t let go,” he said.
“Is that a cliff up ahead?” I asked.
“Start running now. Keep holding my hand. Trust me. Don’t let go. Run Laura, run,” he said.
And we started running and kept running clear off the cliff together, high over the ocean, falling toward the rocks below, arms and legs flailing, somehow keeping hold of each other’s hands as we fell down toward the rocks and sea below.
Then I woke up.
Dear Diary, I know now. I am about to walk off the edge… with him.
Laura closed the diary, kneeled by her bed, put her hands together and whispered a prayer.
“Dear Lord, please take these lustful thoughts and fantasies out of my mind.”
Laura listened for the still voice of Jesus within her, but instead heard her Father’s voice from her childhood.
“Laura, you are a dirty girl…”
Then Laura heard her husband’s voice, telling her he wanted to put “a bun in the oven”.
Laura heard Stephen’s soft, sad voice.
“You’re right, Laura. I’m not a Christian. Perhaps I’ve never been one…”
She heard Belle’s voice from the theater.
“It is my pleasure to submit to you, Sire.”
The voice of Jesus was silent.
Have I ever heard God’s Voice? Did I just believe what they wanted me to believe?
With conflicting thoughts swirling in her mind, Laura stood up off the floor and got into bed, soon falling into a fitful night’s sleep.