Master

by Catherine Taylor

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m a few months short of thirty.”

  “You look older,” Lena grinned.

  He frowned, but couldn’t hide his amusement. “Some days I feel older, especially when I have to deal with rebellious teenage girls. Now, if you want to tell me your story, do so while I’m applying this cream. Roll over.”

  She complied absently, her thoughts occupied with the things he had told her. Guilt was niggling at her that she had never thought about anyone else’s life, that others had suffering too. It had always seemed as if everyone around her was happy; her father, her stepmother, the people who came by their house and restaurant.

  Lying on her front, Lena lay her head on her arms, consumed by the thought of how sorry she had felt for herself, and had done nothing to right any of the wrongs that been done to her. It was only as she felt her nightie drawn up and the cool air caress her naked bottom, that she suddenly realised what was happening. As his hand touched her, she panicked and tensed up tightly.

  “Relax your bottom,” he said firmly.

  She shook her head and tried to roll away only to be grasped at her waist and held still. His voice came close to her ear.

  “Don’t make this harder than it is.”

  “I’ve changed my mind,” she insisted. “I’ll do it myself, I’ll just be more careful.”

  “No.” He spoke quietly, but firmly. “We getting this done now and then I know it’s done properly. I have given you no reason to mistrust me, so let me help you.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I will do it anyway.”

  Lena grimaced angrily. “You can’t tell me that you aren’t getting some sick satisfaction out of having your hands all over me.”

  “If you’re asking me whether I enjoy touching your body, the answer is yes. I do like it. Just staring at your naked arse is pleasing to me, and several things come to mind of what I would like to do to you. The difference is, I don’t, though it wouldn’t be difficult. Anytime I wanted, I could have my way with you and there would be nothing you could do about it, but I’ve made you a promise and I will abide by it. Right now, I’m wanting to put some cream on your arse, for your benefit, and I will try my utmost to feel terrible about my actions, but I can’t promise you I’ll succeed. Is that good enough for you?”

  Keeping her face turned from him, a smile edged across her face. His affirmation to desiring her body should have appalled her, but instead she found it flattering, if not a little unnerving that he wanted to do more to her, but he was right. Anytime he wanted to force himself upon her, there would be nothing she could do about it. Surrendering seemed so wrong, but fighting him was growing tiresome.

  She replied with as much disapproval as she could muster. “Fine, just get it over with.”

  For the next few minutes she was subjected to his intimate, but very gentle handling. The cream brought instant relief, but his touch aroused something that made her blush with shame. The distinct pulsation between her legs usually only occurred when she allowed her mind to wander. Alone in her own bed, and hidden deep in her head, it didn’t seem so awful to imagine handsome lovers kissing her and touching private places.

  Jahn looked nothing like them, but his fingers seemed to be stirring more than she had ever imagined. For a brief moment she pictured him scolding her, raising his hand and bringing it sharply down on her vulnerable bottom. A shudder went through her just as he released her.

  She scuttled up to her knees and away from him, twisting about to sit down firmly on her bottom. Her breathing laboured as she avoided looking at him. “Can I have some privacy now?”

  Jahn frowned. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. I just want to be alone.”

  He studied her for a moment and nodded. “Just keep drinking the water.”

  He left and Lena sank back against her pillows, trying to calm herself. Picking up Greta, she cradled her in her arms and looked mournfully upon her smiling face.

  “I’m sorry, Greta,” she whispered. “Mama is all confused, but I’m going to get us out of here and back home. It will just be you and me again, I promise.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was dark outside, and Lena was growing restless after sitting in bed all day. With nothing to do, all she could think about was him. It was no use trying to convince herself that she was ashamed of her thoughts. Even with his rough exterior, Jahn was an exciting, if not accurate representation of the stern, loving prince of her fantasies.

  Her body refused to submit to her will and grew animated each time he came into the bedroom. It was hard not to stare at his faultless body, with the curve of his biceps so prominent, and a cute behind in his low riding jeans. His care of her was also hard to ignore. He seemed genuinely kind and constantly inquired of her wellbeing, whether it was for a cup of tea or just simply to know how she was feeling. It had been a long time since she had been cared for so tenderly.

  It was almost ridiculous to want to escape, but Lena knew she had to do something, before it all turned sour. The only times she had left the room was to visit the bathroom, but Jahn was always with her. On return she would sweep her gaze around the room, hoping to see a phone. There was none.

  Twice she had heard him leave the apartment and not return for at least half an hour. It would be plenty of time to have a more thorough search and maybe learn more about him.

  It wasn’t until after dinner that she got her chance. The click of the front door was barely audible, but it was the silence that followed that convinced her that he was gone. After two good meals, her strength had returned. Throwing back the bedcovers, she got up and went to the bedroom door.

  Peering out, Jahn was nowhere to be seen. Lena hurried out to the kitchen and started her search. She was disappointed to find an empty phone jack and started going through cupboards to see if the phone had been hidden. Her search proved futile and she turned her attention to the lounge.

  A perusal of the perimeter revealed no places where a phone could be hidden behind the piles of books. Disappointed, she began to look for anything that would tell her exactly where she was. Back in the kitchen she searched the drawers for letters, receipts, anything that had an address on it. Again she found nothing.

  Leaning against the kitchen bench, she took a fresh survey of the lounge and kitchen. There was nothing personal to see, no photos, no sentimental objects that might have revealed who he was. There was only the books.

  Walking to the first pile, she picked one up, only to discard it. She had seen English wording before, but didn’t know the first thing about reading it. Most of her cherished videos had been dubbed into Russian, but a few remained in the English language with Russian subtitles. Repeated viewings had made her familiar with many of the words, but it was hard to imagine that someone like Jahn knew English well enough to read it.

  Many of the books were educational about subjects she had no interest in, computer technology, wireless communication and something about a worldwide network. There were medical and historical books, but nothing that excited her. One large book about photography grabbed her attention, with its coloured plates of beautiful scenery, flowers and sunsets.

  Lena flicked through the pages until they fell open to a place where an envelope had been placed. There was no name or address but her heart beat quicker when she realised there was something in it.

  Opening it, she carefully withdrew several black and white photographs within. The first one made her blood run cold. A woman lay naked on a coverless bed, her lower arms bound by rope to her thighs and her legs held open by more ropes secured to the sides of the bed. Her long blonde hair was splayed out around her head, but there was no hair anywhere else on her body.

  Shuffling to the next, Lena’s eyes widened as she stared at another blonde girl, her wrists tied to a chain above her, and her naked body suspended with her toes barely scraping the floor. Across her back, buttocks and thighs were many dark lines which
Lena knew were the welts of having been beaten. Even without colour, the shades of black and grey were evidence of bruising.

  The next photos were pornography, with three women kneeling away from the camera, their wide open legs exposing their hairless genitals. Another showed a brunette with her head between one of the blonde’s thighs, her tongue against her vagina.

  Flicking through rapidly, Lena was horribly mesmerized by scenes of bondage, the marks of beatings and strange objects clamping onto nipples or inserted into intimate areas.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Lena shuddered and spun about, dropping everything to the floor. Jahn stared back at her angrily and she backed away in terror.

  Sighing deeply, Jahn picked the photos up and returned them to the envelope. Putting it back in the book, he shut it firmly and tossed it onto the coffee table.

  Trembling and clutching herself, Lena looked like a cornered animal as Jahn took a seat on the couch. He stared out furiously, but then glanced in her direction.

  “Say whatever you have to say.”

  “You’re sick.” Lena cried. “Those women, beaten and tied up, doing filthy things. Did you take the photos?”

  He nodded. “I did.”

  “And you’re the one who hurt them, who tied them up?”

  Again he nodded.

  Lena shook her head in disgust. “How could you do that? What type of sick animal are you?”

  “Go back to bed, Lena.” He reclined against the couch. “You wear me out with your fucking theatrics, and that fucking constant crying. Whatever I tell you, you’ve already made up your mind.”

  His dismissal dampened her fear and felt hurtful. She straightened up and tried to speak calmly.

  “I just want to know, is that what you are going to do to me?”

  His look of amusement was equally unsettling.

  “No Lena, I can honestly swear to you that I will not be doing the same to you. Those sessions are about pleasure and a session with you would be absolutely torturous… for me.”

  Anger slowly replaced her fear. “Why do you have to be so mean? I find these sick pictures. What am I supposed to think?”

  “I don’t care what you think,” he replied icily. “Those women are my friends and everything depicted in those photos is something which is consensual between all of us. It may not fit into your mould of what a good time is, but it does in ours. Now go to bed, before you really piss me off.”

  “No.” Lena glared at him. “Not until you explain it to me. I won’t cry anymore, and I won’t interrupt you. I just want to know.”

  Jahn sat forward and rubbed his face into his hands. “How did I ever imagine that this was going to be easy?”

  His coldness was tearing at her “I didn’t get to tell you my story. Couldn’t we just talk? I promise I won’t put on theatrics, but I don’t want to go back to bed.”

  Shaking his head, he looked up at her. “And what if you don’t like what I tell you?”

  “Then I will keep my comments to myself, as long as I don’t end up like a trussed chicken.”

  He grinned. “I could enjoy that, but I would definitely have to put something in your mouth.” Another sigh and he moved to the end of the couch. “Sit down.”

  Lena went to the other end of the couch and sat with her legs tucked up under her. Jahn leant forward and took the envelope out of the book, staring at it in his hands.

  “If you had looked closer, you would have seen that the women had no terror on their faces. Their expressions are beautiful, ranging from lust to pure ecstasy. All three of them are extreme masochists, meaning they derive pleasure from pain, humiliation and subjugation.” He grinned. “Some of the scenarios they come up with even shock me.”

  Lena shook her head. “How can anyone find pleasure in that, in being tied and beaten?”

  Jahn shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person. I would find nothing enjoyable about it, but those women do. They had found each other, before they found me. It began with some simple spanking and progressed from there.”

  “They liked to be spanked?” The question was out before Lena could stop herself, and she blushed deeply, staring down at her lap.

  “Yes, they do,” Jahn peered at her curiously. “And it seems that they’re not alone in this desire. I’ve found many women seem to like it.”

  With her colour deepening, she asked, “Why is that?”

  “Just part of their sexuality and a deeper need. It’s usually in them from an early age, so I’ve been told, and it’s not just women, and sometimes it’s not even sexual.”

  “And you like doing it to them?”

  Jahn nodded soberly. “I’ve always enjoyed inflicting pain, which is why I got involved in fighting in my childhood. It was only when a woman asked me to spank her, that I learned that there was a lot more to it than just a mindless hiding. I hurt her badly, and didn’t understand when she ended up kicking me in the nuts. While I was writhing around on the floor, she explained a few things to me.”

  Lena laughed. “A woman brought you down?”

  “I was only fifteen,” Jahn protested. “And she had six inch heels and a kick like a mule. I took that lesson to heart.”

  “And now you tie them up.”

  “With their consent,” he stated firmly. “As much as I like dishing pain out, when it comes to women, I want more. I want their submission, but not out of terror. It gets difficult when this lot want violent fantasies fulfilled. They want to be overpowered and taken. They want to be able to fight me only to be subdued, and I’m happy to do that, but I have to know when they truly want me to stop.”

  “How do you learn that?”

  “At first, we devised a word that acted as a code to cease all activity. Several years on, I now read the body language and expressions, and know when to stop, long before the word is uttered.” He smirked. “It’s a pride thing now. If the word ever had to come into play, I would feel as if I had failed.”

  Lena looked up at him. “So the reason you have me, is nothing to do with that?”

  “No.”

  “But you won’t tell me what the reason is?”

  Jahn shook his head. “No.”

  She stared out thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you think those women want to be hurt because they feel bad about themselves?”

  “No,” Jahn answered. “They are very confident women and not afraid to seek what they want. If I can be stimulated by dishing out pain, then it stands to reason that there are those who enjoy receiving it, but it’s not always about pain. It’s about subjugation and even humiliation. Some want to feel powerless so they can enjoy being overpowered, taken against their moral will.”

  “So they don’t have to feel bad about what they’re doing?”

  “Sex should never leave one feeling bad. It’s supposed to be fun.”

  “Fun?” Lena gasped. “It’s supposed to be romantic and something special shared between two people.”

  “For you, maybe,” Jahn shrugged. “For me it’s a good time, whether it’s between two people or several.”

  Her prince was beginning to lose some of his charm, but at the same time she couldn’t help envy his freedom.

  “Don’t you ever want to find someone that will be special to you?” she asked.

  “Each of these women are special to me. I know their bodies intimately and what they desire and what their limitations are. I know what they dream of and what they fear. I tend to them after a session, as a mother would tend an injured child, and I hold them in my arms for as long as they need me. Is that not special enough?”

  Lena had to admit to herself that she knew no men who treated their wives that well, but she was not convinced.

  “What about the day to day interaction, the sharing of a life together?”

  “And that’s why they have each other. When I leave, I know they are not left alone.”

  “But you are,” Lena said.

  “Because that’s what I wan
t. My life is too complicated for anything else.”

  Lena looked about at the apartment, at the books and lack of personal memorabilia.

  “Wouldn’t life be better if you had someone to love and be loved by?”

  “I’ve been alone over half of my life and I have no desire for love. It brings more pain than anything I can inflict, and I have enough goals to achieve without someone getting in the way. So is your curiosity satisfied now?”

  As hard as it was to relate to him, Lena found that she was enjoying just talking to him, and certainly didn’t want to be sent back to bed.

  “No,” she spouted. “I want to know more.”

  Jahn sighed. “Such as?”

  “Those women,” she began tentatively. “They had no hair… down there.” His chuckle made her smile. “What happened to it?”

  “They shave it off.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they prefer it that way.”

  “But they look so… strange.”

  “They look fine. I prefer it that way too.”

  His comment startled her. “Why? Is because it makes them look like young girls?”

  “No,” he said firmly and shook his head with a frown. “Do you really want me to talk about this?”

  Lena sat up. “Why? Do you have a problem? We are adults. Why can’t we talk objectively about such things?”

  “Because you might not like the answers.”

  “You’ve stated that it is not anything about making them look like young girls, which I am pleased about. So what is it then?”

  “I like their cunts to be fully exposed to me, and I don’t like pubic hair in my mouth.”

  Lena’s jaw dropped and the colour and heat rocketed to her face before she could turn away.

  “You asked,” he said.

  She glanced at him and saw that he was grinning at her.

  “Maybe we’ll move on to something else,” she mumbled.

  “Why don’t we move on to your story,” he suggested. “You wanted to talk earlier. Now is your chance.”

  She shook her head. “My life isn’t as exciting as yours. You would just get bored.”