by Roger Clarke
Erica opened her mouth to answer, but Grace laid a finger across her lips. ‘One other thing you should see before you respond,’ she said quietly, then lifted the collar from the box and tilted it so that Erica could see some additional engraving on the inside. ‘This can’t be seen at The Complex, but you and I will know it’s there.’ She held the collar forward so Erica could read the inscription. ‘Erica, property of Grace,’ she read to the bound girl.
The fact that Grace had used her real name touched Erica deeply. At long last someone was treating her as a person, not just a number. Her emotions welled up inside. ‘Yes, I’ll wear your collar, Mistress,’ she said. ‘I’ll be your willing property. Thank you.’
‘And it’s our secret, remember? Nobody must know about the inscription. Agreed?’
Erica nodded, so Grace smiled and unfastened the straps holding her in the box. Erica sat while the timid man readied his equipment. This time she knew what the grubby looking cloth was for, but this time he took longer and asked for Grace’s help holding the clamps. She insisted on encircling Erica’s throat with the gold band, looking deep into her eyes and smiling as she closed it. The collar had a fitting that slid together but was not intended as a locking clasp. Like her nipple rings, once this was fitted it would need a cutter to remove it.
The man slid the cloth under it, using a long pair of pliers to hold it away from Erica’s skin while he busied himself with the blowtorch. Erica turned her head away from the heat as he worked, and less than five minutes later she heard the hiss as he used cold water to cool the weld. A few more minutes with a small battery-powered polisher and he stood back to let Grace see the finished article.
Grace looked, reaching to adjust its position. She held a mirror so Erica could see the apparently seamless gold circle – a sign of her slavery, yet somehow comfortable and safe.
‘Welcome to my house, my slave,’ Grace smiled.
‘Thank you, Mistress,’ Erica replied, instinctively dipping her head slightly.
The man quickly packed up his tools and left, and Erica looked around her room. Immaculate wallpaper gave way to sumptuous deep-pile carpets and a pink ceiling above. The heavy-draped windows looked out over lush green pastureland sloping away to trees, behind which she could just see the roof of The Complex, a chilling reminder if ever she needed one.
Grace sat next to her on the bed. ‘For tonight only, so don’t think this is any relaxation of the rules, you may ask questions freely. For tonight, as a special welcome as my property, I will call you Erica. And before you ask, no, you may not call me Grace, understood?’
‘Yes, Mistress.’
‘The windows are alarmed and will not open far enough for you to get out. All exterior doors have combination locks. Escape, if you did try, wouldn’t be easy; and there are the dogs, traps and fences to get through too.’
‘I won’t try and escape, Mistress,’ Erica stated firmly.
Grace looked at her curiously, hoping she could have faith in that.
‘Right, let me take you on a tour of the house,’ she eventually said. ‘But before we do I intend to indulge myself.’
She stood and walked over to a chest of drawers positioned against one wall, taking out some fine gold chains and cuffs. She had Erica stand while she fixed the cuffs on her wrists and used small padlocks to lock them there, attaching the ends of two of the chains as she snapped them shut. From her wrists the chains were threaded through her nipple rings and fastened by two more padlocks to the two eyelets each side of her collar, Grace pulling them tight so that Erica’s hands were held in front of her breasts as she stood there. Grace picked up the third chain and locked it to the front eyelet, wrapping the loose end round her hand a few times before pulling Erica into an intense kiss that left her quite breathless.
The décor throughout the house was similar to Erica’s bedroom; ornate mouldings and pastel wallpapers, such a contrast to the sterile blandness of The Complex such a short distance away. Grace’s hand was always there to guide Erica up and down stairs, making sure that the inability to use her hands did not cause an accident.
Grace’s own bedroom was total luxury, dominated by a large circular bed big enough to accommodate an orgy. Grace showed her that under the valance were set numerous metal rings around the periphery, easily utilised to secure a willing or unwilling slave. Grace’s own bathroom had a sunken spa bath set in the centre.
On a sudden whim Grace attacked Erica’s breasts with her hands and mouth, a task made harder by her chained hands, but Grace did not falter, suckling her nipples around the gold rings and gradually pulling Erica to the floor, where she pushed her legs apart and kissed her way between them, producing in Erica the tenderest, sexiest feelings she’d had for such a long time. She was quickly brought to the brink of an explosive orgasm, and held there for some minutes until Grace took her over the top, licking, biting and sucking at her clitoris and labia.
‘I’ll take you whenever I want you,’ she growled through a mouthful of wet female flesh.
Eventually they made their way to the lounge, its Georgian windows overlooking the rolling landscape, and Erica was surprised to see a man sitting on one of the settees.
‘This is my brother, Jonathon,’ Grace offered by way of introduction.
The man turned slowly to face them. He looked slightly older than Grace, but there was a definite family resemblance. ‘Come over here,’ he growled.
Erica was so used to obeying anyone for fear of punishment that she was just about to move to him, but she remembered Grace’s words and stopped, glancing at her.
‘I said come here, bitch,’ Jonathon repeated.
Again Erica glanced at Grace, and finally the woman smiled slightly and nodded. Erica moved quickly to the sofa and stood in front of the man, looking down, not meeting his piercing gaze.
‘Why did you not obey immediately, bitch?’ he asked her. ‘My sister claims you’re a good slave.’
Again he met silence. Erica sensed she was being tested.
‘Tell her to obey me, Grace,’ he snapped angrily.
‘Patience, brother, patience,’ Grace smiled as she moved forward to sit on the other settee. ‘51, tell him why you didn’t obey.’
‘I’m sorry, Master,’ Erica said sheepishly, ‘but my Mistress said to obey only her unless she tells me to obey someone else. I apologise if I displeased you.’
‘I want to have her, Grace.’ His tone and demeanour were blunt, uncompromising.
‘I should explain, 51, that my brother is a soldier. He’s been stationed in the Falklands for several months. He got home yesterday and he’s not had a female for a long time, so I decided to let him use and have you. Any objections?’
Erica swallowed hard. The recent bonding with Grace had lulled her into a feeling of cosy security, as if Grace was now her loving protector. Yet here she was offering her to a man who looked every bit as brutal as the normal guests at The Complex but with the added urgency of someone desperate to have her. ‘No, Mistress,’ she said tentatively, ‘whatever you say.’
‘How do you want her?’ Grace turned to her brother.
‘Without those chains for a start. I want to get at those tits.’
‘Do you want her tied down?’ Grace spoke coolly, almost as if Erica was not in the room.
‘Sounds nice,’ Jonathon drooled.
‘How about I warm her up first?’ Grace continued.
‘Meaning what?’
‘Come with me, I’ll show you,’ Grace said, standing and taking hold of Erica’s leash. She led the way out of the room and turned left along the hallway, until she reached a door that led down carpeted stairs to a basement, furnished to the same standards as the rest of the house, making the assembly of racks and beams and instruments of bondage and punishment even more incongruous. She pulled Erica to the centre
of the room and walked round to face her. Jonathon closed the door and sat in an armchair. ‘Do you believe I love you, 51?’ the woman asked.
Erica nodded. ‘Yes, Mistress, I do.’
‘This will be to prove it to you, but afterwards I’ll want to know if you still believe me. Until then, I don’t want to hear a word from you.’
Erica stood still and silent while Grace unfastened her wrists and breasts and took her to a leather bench by one wall. Pushing her face down over it, on her knees, sprawled forward, Grace secured her hands to leather cuffs at the top edge. Another strap over her waist pinned Erica’s body in place, and finally Grace buckled two straps to hold her knees secure.
‘What do you think?’ Grace asked him.
‘Nice arse,’ was the best he could come up with. Erica did not like Jonathon at all, but maybe that was their intention.
‘What do you do to her?’ he asked. ‘Normally, I mean?’
‘Anything I want,’ Grace said casually. ‘Anything at all. I like to beat her. Do you want me to demonstrate?’
‘Why not?’ He settled deeper in his chair, ready for the show.
‘Yes,’ Grace repeated casually, ‘why not?’
Erica waited, not quite sure of what she would be beaten with, how hard or for how long. All she was sure of was that it would happen and she could not prevent it. Some of the slaves at The Complex said they had got used to the beatings, but Erica never had. Each time hurt just as much as the previous one. She had a feeling this was likely to be intense, since Grace was obviously out to make a point.
The first stroke took her by complete surprise, since there was no warning at all. She jerked her head up instinctively from the force of the blow, wailing out her agony. Grace took no notice, laying on the next stroke and the next with painful rapidity until Erica’s bottom was on fire. Erica was sobbing and exhausted by the tenth stroke, when Grace paused.
‘Do you want me to stop, 51?’ she asked. ‘Be honest with me. I won’t tolerate dishonesty.’
‘Y-yes, Mistress, I want you to stop,’ Erica whimpered.
‘And you know I won’t, don’t you? What if I told you that if you said you didn’t want me to stop, then I would, what then? Do you want me to stop, 51?’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ she repeated.
‘Even though your honesty means I’ll carry on?’
‘Yes, Mistress. I won’t lie to you.’
‘Very well, my slave.’
Grace did not say another word until she had applied another ten strokes, as hard as the previous ten and delivered without pause or mercy.
‘That’s it, enough now,’ she said at last.
‘Can I do it too?’ her brother asked immediately.
‘No, Jonathon, you cannot. She’s mine, not yours.’
‘But you said…’ He was openly disappointed.
‘You can have her in any way I say, dear brother. She won’t object. Any other way and she’ll refuse you.’
‘Her arse is bright red,’ he mused. ‘You did a good job on that.’
‘So have that,’ Grace said simplistically. ‘Use it. Fuck it.’
‘OK, I will,’ he agreed eagerly. ‘But preferably without you watching, little sis.’
‘Very well. I’ve no wish to watch you buggering my beautiful new slave. You can use her rectum, but that’s it, OK?’
‘Yes, if you say, though how you’ll know…’ His lascivious leer scared Erica.
‘I’ll know,’ Grace insisted confidently, ‘because she’ll tell me. 51…’
‘Yes, Mistress?’
‘If he does anything over and above what I’ve stipulated I want you to scream for me. Understood?’
‘Understood, Mistress,’ Erica said gratefully.
‘And you’ll use plenty of this,’ Grace continued, taking a tube of KY from a cupboard. ‘Actually, I’ll do it, just to be sure.’
She bent behind Erica and squeezed a generous portion between the bound girl’s cheeks. The cold against her stinging skin made her start, but it soon warmed up as Grace’s hand smoothed it between them. She crooked two of her fingers together and, aided by the KY, slid them into Erica’s rosebud, sliding in until she could go no further, twisting her fingers round to spread the lubricant. Then the fingers were gone, leaving Erica with a strange feeling of loss.
‘Right, you’ve got half an hour,’ she told him. ‘If you can last that long,’ she smirked.
‘I’ll last that long,’ he replied cockily.
‘Well, we’ll see,’ she said as she swept up out of the basement room.
Erica waited, unable to see what he was doing behind her, but aware of the rustling of his clothes as he undressed, and before long she felt him behind her.
‘Right,’ he started, ‘my sis says I can have your arse, so I will. Brace yourself.’
Erica felt his erection nudge between her legs, searching for its way into her secret passage. Steadying himself with one hand on the small of her back he pressed forward until he gained entry, and when he was sure her tight ring of muscle had yielded, he lunged hard.
‘Aaaagh!’ Erica gasped as he sank inside her to the hilt.
‘Too big for you, huh?’ he sniggered through gritted teeth.
Erica decided there was no way to win by saying anything, so she remained silent as Jonathon rutted in and out of her tight rear passage, grunting about just how good he was and how big his cock was. Erica loathed the man and decided to accelerate things, clenching her sphincter until she was squeezing him with each thrust.
‘God, she was right!’ he gasped. ‘You are very… very… aaaagh!’ And with that he quickly erupted inside her, within seconds his cock shrivelling and slipping wetly from between her bottom cheeks.
‘Fuck,’ he groaned, ‘I wanted to enjoy some more of that.’
Erica smiled to herself.
‘Whore!’ he spat at her. ‘You did that deliberately, didn’t you? You made me come too soon!’ He moved to her head and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back until she grimaced with the pain. ‘Answer me! You did, didn’t you?’
He was not allowing her much freedom to move, but she did manage to nod. After all, had Grace not forbidden her to talk?
‘I’ll fucking show you!’ he spat at her, then was gone, returning a few seconds later carrying the same cane Grace had used.
‘I’ll show you,’ he repeated, raising it high before bringing it down hard across her back.
Erica screamed, shouting for her Mistress, glad to be able to obey her, and Grace was there in seconds.
‘I told you, Jonathon,’ she seethed. ‘I warned you about abusing my slave without my permission!’
‘The bitch tricked me,’ he yelled at her, raising the cane again.
‘Put it down, now!’ Grace told him, her tone cold and unyielding. ‘Then get out of here and don’t come back!’
‘But…’
‘Get out,’ she repeated coldly.
Jonathon growled, walked to his clothes and picked them up.
‘You can dress upstairs,’ she told him uncompromisingly, and then repeated, ‘Don’t come back. My debt to you is paid. We’re even now.’
Already she was ignoring him, moving to the cupboard to fetch a tube of cream, but this time one to salve Erica’s bottom, and the angry welt across her back. When she had smoothed some of the cream in and it started to take effect, she unfastened Erica’s bonds and took her to the comfortable settee.
‘I need to be cruel to you, Erica,’ she said quietly. ‘And I’m not sorry for that.’
‘I know, Mistress. I accept that.’
Grace kissed her hard on the lips. ‘I hope you’ll be happy here,’ she smiled.
‘I hope we’ll be happy, Mistress,’ Erica corrected her.
Grace smiled, a little wearily. ‘There’s something I want you to tell me, Erica, and I want your honest answer.’
Erica sat and waited, wondering what this could be.
‘Is there anything, anything at all, which would make you try and escape from here, from me?’ Grace asked.
Erica did not need to think for very long. ‘One thing only, Mistress,’ she admitted.
‘Which is?’
‘The chance to get even with my stepfather.’
‘Get even?’ Grace echoed. ‘What exactly do you mean by “get even”?’
‘To kill him,’ Erica said without hesitation.
Grace looked at her strangely, although clearly unfazed by the frank honesty of the response. ‘But what about the consequences?’
Erica shrugged blithely. ‘I don’t care about any consequences.’
Grace thought for a few moments, her expression giving nothing away as she closely scrutinised the girl, staring deep into her eyes. ‘Very well,’ she finally said, as though making her mind up about something.
‘Very well?’ Erica echoed.
‘What if I said I could fix things for you?’ Grace said. ‘I know people. I have contacts.’
‘Y-you mean…?’ Erica stammered, barely able to believe she had an ally at last.
Grace nodded and smiled reassuringly.
Erica let out a long breath, the enormity of what they were discussing making her pulse race. ‘Well,’ she ventured hesitantly, ‘revenge is all that’s kept me sane since he had me abducted. But why would you…?’
‘I’ll help you,’ Grace said calmly. ‘I’ll arrange everything. But it’ll have to be our secret. Afterwards you’ll belong to me, utterly. You’ll never be able to leave me. Never.’
‘You don’t have to blackmail me into loyalty, Mistress,’ Erica told her.
‘I know I don’t, but I’m a ruthless bitch when I want something. Now what do you say? There’ll be no going back. Revenge for a lifetime of slavery; you choose.’