"You won’t believe me when I tell you that you ‘ll soon be begging for my touch. Begging for this. Begging for me, your lord and master.
He gave her a little shove to the side and got up, moving around to face her. When she heard his laughter yet again she screamed out wildly at him.
"But, my sweet, torturing you with anticipation is far too delightful. I was debating what to do, whether to take you as I pleased without a word, but now I know I have made the correct decision. Yes. Of course I am going to relieve you of your precious virginity. Although, naturally, I prefer to think of it as a ravishment. I should have thought you’d want to be well rid of it. Or at least that’s what Hogarth told me, that you were not bound by convention.
"Hogarth’s a liar, she screamed.
"Yes, I suspect he is. But he has not made a mistake about you. There is simply no denying that you are absolutely perfect. And I’ve been watching you for a long time.
"What?
"Oh yes, my dear girl, you have no idea who I am, or what I look like, nor shall you ever. But I have seen you, many times. Hogarth thought you might be suitable, and he was quite right. You have been chosen. You belong to me now, and you shall do whatever I say.
"Oh yes, you think you ‘re just the man to do it, she said bitterly.
"Of course I am, and I have paid very dearly for the privilege. I am going to make you beg within an inch of your life for me to stop. And when I’m through with you, I shall start all over again. Again and again. Again and again, until you can no longer remember when your life was not about doing what I say, the instant that I say it. That your entire existence is dependent upon pleasing me, and nothing else. Nothing else exists.
He was speaking faster and faster, his deep voice darkening.
No no no"
"Your old life is over and finished. That girl is no more, he said, who she was, her body, her name. You have no name. If I call you anything, it shall be Doula. That is the Greek word for handmaiden. You are my handmaiden, my slave, and you exist only to please me. And, as I have said, soon, sooner than you dare believe possible, you are going to beg me to do whatever I wish to do to you. If I say to open your mouth, you’ll open it. If I say to get down on your knees, you’ll fall to the floor. If I say to spread your legs and beg, you will.
She started to laugh uncontrollably, as she had at the auction. She had never heard such things before, or imagined them possible. She was beyond anything; hysterical, and certain she was about to die.
"You are completely insane, she said, laughing like a madwoman in between sobbing. Let me go let me go let me go"
"No, I don’t think so, he replied. But knowing you belong to me and using you at will shall give me rather unbearable pleasure. If that makes me what you so kindly refer to as insane, I’m afraid it shall be your misfortune as well.
She stopped laughing, but was still sobbing.
"No, there is nothing you can say, except the answer to one simple question. Who are you?
She said nothing.
He circled behind her and pulled her hair back, tilting her head up painfully. She bit her lip so as not to cry out.
"When I say, “Who are you?” you say, “I am yours, my lord.” And then when I say, “Why are you here?” you say, “To do your bidding, my lord.” And then when I say, “What shall you do?” you say, “Whatever you desire, my lord.” Do you understand?
She shook her head. She couldn’t stop her trembling. Somebody come save me. Somebody, please. I’m only eighteen years old. I don’t want to die.
"Three simple sentences. “I am yours, my lord. To do your bidding, my lord. Whatever you desire, my lord.” His hands were pulling at her and his voice was harsh.
"Not so very difficult, he told her. You shall say them whenever I ask for them. You shall say them so often they will become a part of you.
She could sense rather than hear the rage building in his voice, but she had no voice. She tried to open her mouth, but she couldn’t do it.
He let go of her hair and moved away. She couldn’t hear anything. She tried to sit up, but she was too awkwardly balanced, and she realized that he had shortened the chains fastening her wrists. Her arms were fixed in place. The shackle around her ankle felt so heavy. She was utterly helpless. Tears were rolling down her cheek from under the blindfold.
Help me, somebody, please help me, why am I here, don’t let him hurt me, please, make him go away, what have I done to have been brought here, why why why, make him go away"
She felt him again, near her, and she instinctively tried to pull away.
"Still fighting, he said. Very good.
He put an arm around her neck again, catching her in a viselike grip. Don’t move, He whispered. I am preparing to cut off your blindfold. I want to see your face the first time. This is the only time you shall be allowed to look upon me. Keep your eyes shut or you shall be blinded.
She heard several snips and felt hot, bright lights on her face.
"Don’t move, he said, placing one hand over her eyes so that she was unable to see. She felt him moving about slightly. He was arranging several small soft cushions behind her and underneath her bottom, propping her up so she was nearly sitting up, just so. She tried to kick them away, despite what he’d just told her.
"You have disobeyed me already, he said, taking his hand off her eyes and laughing softly. I am very pleased indeed. For this, you shall be punished.
As her eyes slowly adjusted she saw that the lights were shining directly on her face from huge bulbs at the end of the bedposts. The rest of the room was shrouded in darkness. She turned her head and thought she could see vague forms, what might be the outlines of furniture. The chains attached to her wrists and ankle were made of golden links, attached to hooks in the bedposts. There were more than four posts; there were posts going all around the bed, holding up the canopy, as if she were in some sort of gilded cage. Then she looked up and saw the mirror. She started to whimper and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see him do it. She didn’t want to watch him kill her.
For what seemed like ages but was only a few minutes, she lay there, her eyes squeezed tightly shut because she could not bear to look. The part of her that still wanted to fight knew that he was toying with her terror, inhaling every drop as if it were delicious nectar, and she felt herself flooded with hatred and rage.
Someday she’d get free, someday she’d find him and make him pay, someday she’d"
She felt him at the end of the bed, staring at her. She opened her eyes; she couldn’t stop herself. From her helpless angle he appeared larger than life, that part of him jutting out from under the belt holding up the front of his robe. She had never seen a man’s nakedness before, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the hideous sight of it.
"Do you like what you see? He was laughing softly.
He was a hugely looming monster, and her rage melted into pure abject terror. He wanted to hurt her with that awful jutting part of him. He wanted her to struggle and scream. He wanted her to and he knew she would. She started to whimper in fear again, a cornered animal.
Let me go let me go let me go"
The hood of his robe was pulled over the black mask. The mask covered nearly all of his face, with two small holes for his nostrils and two large holes for his eyes. She could only see his mouth, his full lips smiling wickedly.
"This is the face of the devil, he said. Look carefully, because this is the only time you shall be allowed to see it.
He was coming closer, crawling closer on the bed, and she could see nothing but his mocking smile and two dark eyes burning behind his black mask.
He leaned over her. There was a flash of gold, a ring on his finger shining in the bright light. She was paralyzed. He spread her legs apart. She wanted to kick out at him with the leg that wasn’t shackled, but her legs felt leaden and useless.
"Who are you? He asked, looming over her.
"No no no"
"If you are going t
o say no, you say, “No, my lord.” His hands started to trace up and down her body, his nails sharp and raking her skin around her corset. There was no tenderness in his touch, only an insatiable desire to possess and leave his mark.
"Are you going to be sensible, clever Doula, he asked, or are you going to make it worse for yourself?
"Please"
"Please, what.
"Please, my lord. She could barely choke out a whisper.
This must be a nightmare, please, please let her wake up and be back in her safe little flat, June blabbing on the phone, please, please"
"Aha, he said, and he knelt between her legs on the bed.
She closed her eyes, whimpering, tears on her cheeks.
"Oh no, he said, you’ve seen it already and you are going to watch me take you. You are going to watch your own degradation. He leaned forward and placed his hands on her face, on her forehead, forcing her eyes open.
"Do you see this? He asked pointing to that thing jutting straight at her, huge and unthinkable. I know you can’t tear your eyes away from its splendor. He laughed again. Do you see this? Do you? Answer me.
"Yes, she barely whispered.
"Yes, what.
"Yes, my lord.
"Yes, he said. I am your lord and master and you are my slave. You obey my commands and you worship me and me alone. You obey this and you worship this. He was practically on top of her and he whipped first one cheek, then the other, then her chin with that horrible hard jutting thing.
At the vile touch of him she started to scream. The energy flooded back into her legs and she started to flail wildly.
"Get off me get off me, you bastard, you bastard, stop"
She was screaming and screaming but before she could think one more second, he moved down and suddenly was lying on top of her, and he forced his way into her with a savage push. The most ungodly pain was splitting her in two. She was screaming with the pain and terror of it. Behind her screaming was the sound of his laughter. He stopped for the briefest of seconds and then started moving again, the entire weight of him moving back and forth. She couldn’t breathe, not with the pain of it and the pain on her chest, from him, from the corset squeezing her. He was going to squeeze the life out of her, moving with agonizing, leisurely strokes. Prolonging his pleasure and her agony.
"Do you want me to stop? he said.
She was screaming and screaming.
"Do you want me to sop? he said again.
"Yes, she whimpered.
"Yes, what. He placed his hands under one of the pillows, pulling her up even closer. He was going to break her in two. He wanted her to die.
"Yes my lord.
She couldn’t stop screaming, but the monster was still on top of her. She was choking, and all she felt was pain. He was suddenly pumping pain faster and faster and harder and harder inside her and still she heard that wicked laughter. He forced her eyes open and tilted her face and she saw his mask, the wicked curve of his lips as his hands came up to brace himself on her shoulders, to force himself in deeper.
She was going to die. No one could survive this pain and still be alive.
After one last savage movement he stopped. He didn’t move. He stayed on top of her for what seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t breathe. She closed her eyes to the horror of the mocking grin on his face.
"You are mine, he said. You belong to me.
His hands were on her face, forcing her eyes open yet again. He reached over to a small table behind her head, at the end of the bed, and picked up a glass of what seemed to be water, with ice in it. Drink this, he said, putting it to her lips. She was afraid to drink it, that it was poison and he would kill her now that he’d taken her, but she had no energy left to fight. It was cold and delicious.
He put the glass down when she was done and pulled slowly out from her. Then he crawled close to her face.
"So much blood, he said. How splendid. Now that you’re bloodied, the proper training can begin. He caressed himself and wiped the blood on her face, on her neck, on her breasts.
She was getting dizzy again, so sleepy.
"Welcome to the Club, he said.
She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious. She woke up to complete darkness, still dizzy and aching all over, the blindfold wound back around her head. She was vaguely aware that someone was gently lifting her up, taking her to the bathroom, placing a cool cloth between her legs, wiping away the stickiness, putting her on the toilet, putting her back on the bed. Her corset was unlaced and taken off. Finally, she could breathe. She was too exhausted to struggle anymore, and fell back asleep.
When she woke up again, someone propped a rigid cushion behind her, then spoon-fed her soup and gave her something cold and slightly bitter to drink. She fell asleep once more. When she next woke, she had no idea what day it was, or how long she’d been there. She had been turned on her side. Both her hands were attached to chains on one of the posts on the side of the bed.
He was lying beside her on the bed. She was completely naked, and so was he, pressed up tightly against her backside. She could feel the length of him, his arms around her in a suffocating embrace. She was too drained to be able to try to pull away.
"Who are you? he asked, whispering in her ear. She felt him hard against her, parting her legs and slipping inside her. The pain was so excruciating she cried out in agony. He laughed. The more she screamed, the more he laughed.
"Who are you? he asked again. I’ll stop when you tell me.
She couldn’t say anything.
Please oh please oh please stop"
"You belong to me, he said.
The pain was going to kill her.
"Are you very sore? Do you hurt very badly? he asked.
"Yes, she whimpered.
"Yes, what.
"Yes, my lord, she whispered.
"That’s better. Do you want me to stop?
"Yes, my lord.
"Very good. Who are you?
"Yours. She could only whisper. Anything to make him stop.
"Yours, what. I can’t hear you.
"Your Lordship, she whispered.
"What you mean to say is, “I am yours, my lord.” Like that. Say it like that.
"Please stop, please. Please, my lord.
"You aren’t listening, he said, but he pulled away from her abruptly. You are not obeying. What shall be done with you? What shall I do?
"Go away.
"No hope of that, my dear, he said with a short laugh Particularly in light of your continued disobedience.
He crawled over her so that he could lie facing her. He ran his hands through her hair, twisting fistfuls of it into a ponytail. Then he jerked her head up awkwardly so she cried out, and he kissed her so hard she could barely breathe. The insistence of his mouth was worse than the corset, stifling her.
"When shall you begin to realize that you belong to me? He moved away again. Kiss it, he said, his hardness up against her lips. Kiss it.
She turned her head away. She wouldn’t, not ever.
"You must learn to obey, he said, climbing back over her and shoving himself into her backside so suddenly that she screamed.
"Is this what you want instead?
"No no no"
"No, what.
"No, my lord. Stop, please stop, please"
He stopped and got off the bed, but was quickly back, smelling of soap, he was facing her again.
"Luckily for you, I am a fastidious sort, he said. Unlike most. Now do as I say. Open your mouth.
She tried, but she could barely open it. She was sobbing too hard. He pinched her nose shut with his fingers, so she had to open her mouth.
"I am your lord and master, he said savagely as he forced himself into her mouth. He wanted her to choke. This choking was worse than the corset. He wanted her to die. The tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Choking, choking. She was dead. Men didn’t do things like this. This could not be happening to her. There wa
s no end to the pain. Where was she? What day? What year? Who was she? What had she ever done to deserve this? Someone save her, please oh please oh"
She could breathe again and he was lying with his arms around her.
"Who are you? He was saying. Who are you who are you who are you?
"Yours, she whispered. I am yours, my lord.
"Why are you here?
She was so tired. Why could she not slip into a larger darkness and die?
"To do your bidding, my lord.
"What shall you do?
"Whatever you desire, my lord.
And on and on and on it went. She woke to darkness. Someone, not His Lordship, fed her and took her to the bathroom; he let her soak in a tub every so often. He brushed her hair and blew her nose. She thought it was the man who was going to slit her throat, and she was too frightened of him to disobey. He chained her back to the bed. Only her wrists. He took the shackle off her ankle. She couldn’t move even if she wished to. She slept. She awoke to find him there, his arms around her, taking her at will.
Her body gradually became less sore. Adjusted, in its own way; capitulating because it had no choice. The will to survive fueled her body. Her mind had stopped working. She could no longer think clearly. Nothing made sense, in the darkness. This couldn’t be happening. She was so dizzy. It was always dark and he was there, his hot, dry fingers devouring every inch of her body, that hateful voice muttering ceaselessly in her ear.
"Who are you? He asked.
"I am yours, my lord, she said. It was so much easier to say it.
"Why are you here?
"To do your bidding, my lord.
"What shall you do?
"Whatever you desire, my lord.
"I am going to make yours the most exquisite mouth in the world, he said one day. Or night. She had no idea where she was and how many days or weeks or months since the torture had begun. Perhaps there were windows in the room, but she could see nothing but blackness swimming in the blindfold.
"I am going to make your fingers the most sensitive, divinely caressing fingers in the world. He was in a talkative mood. I am going to mold you into the most pliable, sensual creature who ever touched a man. You, my sweet, you will be famous. Infamous, I daresay: the woman worth a million pounds to a member of the Club. The million pounds in the Swiss Consolidated Bank, Limited, account number one one six dash six one four. No one shall know who you really are or what your name really is or from whence you came. All they shall know is the ecstasy you provide, and how much it shall cost them. All they shall know is that you are mine. Mine alone.
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