Saturday, June 18, 2016

Fiction: fs01 - Part 28

Author's Note:
This takes place the morning after Part 27.

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XXVIII

I wake early.  It's freezing.  My naked body shivers and curls up for warmth.  So cold.  The metal bars press against my skin.  It was so warm when I fell asleep.  It must be in the 40's, 50 max.  My hands rub my arms up and down.  I cross my arms over my chest.  I rub my legs together. Time crawls by.  The cold is inescapable.  I miss my hair, my newly shaved head provides no protection. My teeth chatter.

I hear the click of heels on the floor in the distance.  My body perks up.  I climb onto my knees and grip the bars.  Mistress.  I lean in the cage to get a view of the gate.  Anticipation.  Time crawls.  More clicks.  She makes me wait.  I barely remember the cold.  Eventually, it returns.  My hands release the bars and return to their crossed position on my chest.

The gate swings open.  Mistress strolls in with a crop in hand.  My breath leaves my body.  Her black high heeled knee boots clack along the floor.  A large fur coat encases her body, the large collar frames her face, the coat extends down just below her knees.  A matching hat upon her head, its brim slopes down partially covering her face from my view.  She taps the crop on her gloved hand.  I swallow.  My hands find the bars again.

She approaches.  I feel my sex strain against the belt.  I press my face between the bars.  My eyes lock in upon her.  Mistress.

Thwack.  The crop finds my hand on the bar.  It stings.  I flinch and I retrieve my hand in reflex. I quickly remove the other hand as well.  I take the hint and move to the back of the cage.  Mistress has on her poker face and hasn't spoken a word.  She calmly removes the padlock and opens the door.  I stay put.  Her lips part into a small grin.

Mistress takes a few steps back.  She swings the crop down and points it on the floor in front of her.  I slowly crawl out in front of her.

"Position 1."

I press my forehead to the ground and extend my arms.

"You will assume this position whenever you approach me, slave.  Also, assume this position for 3 seconds facing me whenever you enter or leave a room.  Position 2."

I slowly rise and shift my heels together.  I place my hands behind my head.  Thwack.  The crop stings my hand.  I flinch and shake it a little.  Thwack.  It stings but I hold still.

"Lower your head, slave.  You will not look at me unless I order you."

I steal a final glance.  Thwack.  The crop on my arm.  I slump my head and glue my eyes to the floor.

"You will not speak, slave, ever.  If you violate this rule you will be gagged from then on."

 She paces back and forth in front of me. 

"Anything I choose to grant you is a privilege, slave.  It must be earned and can be easily taken away.  Go clean yourself and use the bathroom.  You will have bathroom privileges twice a day, once in the morning and once before bed.  You have 5 minutes."

She claps her hands.  I rise and hurry to the gate.  At the gate I turn, kneel, press my forehead to the floor and extend my arms above my head.  1, 2, 3.  I rise and hurry off to the bathroom.  The shower is brief and painfully cold.  I rush everything.  Desperation. A quick evacuation.  I hurry back to the dungeon and appear before Mistress.

"7 seconds to spare, slave.  But you forgot something.  Position 5."

I bend over and place my hands between my legs.  My body shivers and my teeth chatter. I forgot to bow when entering the room.  She will correct me quickly.  Thwack, thwack.  The crop lands swiftly on each cheek.  I grunt on the impact.  Thwack, thwack.  I groan. It stings.  Thwack, thwack.  I yelp.  The blows stop.  I hold my position.  It is uncomfortable.  I hear her heels clack across the floor as she paces. She walks to the wall and sits upon her throne.

"Approach me, slave."

I scuttle over to her, fall to my knees and bow my head to the floor.

"Present your hands."

I rise slightly and lift my hands to her.  Cold metal closes around my wrist and locks with a click.  It repeats.  The shackles are heavy.  The 12 inch chain's links are thick and weigh several pounds.

"Ankles."

I turn onto my back, purposely diverting my eyes away from her.  I want to see her so badly.  Mistress.  I raise my legs.  Shackles close and lock around my ankles.  The chain is heavy and similar to the one that connects my wrist.

"Keep the chains silentm slave.  I do not wish to hear them clanking or dragging on the floor.  Move to the marks."

I roll back to my knees and bow, carefully raising my arms with the chains pulled taut.  I hold for 3 seconds before struggling to my feet.  The ankle chains make a sound.  The crop finds my thigh with a swift strike. I wince under the sting.  I carefully make my way to the designated spot.  The chain between my ankles is short.  I keep it taut and waddle with each step.  The metal rubs on my skin as my body pivots.

"Position 4."

I spread my legs as wide as I can and place my hands behind my head.  The chain is cold and the hairs on my neck stand as it slides down my back.  Mistress stands and presses a button on the control plate.  The motor whirs and lowers a hook from the ceiling.

"Chain on the hook."

I raise my arms and pull the chain over the hook.  She presses the other button.  The hook rises and pulls my arms above my head.  It raises me to my toes.  Mistress approaches slowly.  Each step, her heel clacks on the floor.  I smell her perfume as she gets near.  It is lovely.

I feel her fingers on my chin.  She gently strokes my jaw, the fur on her sleeve dances across the bare skin on my chest.  She intoxicates me.  She leans forward and whispers in my ear.

"Do you want me, slave?"  I nod as my sex strains against the belt.
"Do you lust for me, slave?"  I nod.

She lets a sound of disgust.  Her hand shoves my head back and slaps me on the cheek.

"Is it appropriate for a slave to hold a sexual desire, slave?"  I shake my head no.
"I'll just have to do something about that then, won't I?"  I nod.

I feel a force against my belt.  The key turns.  The front plate flips down and slides my penis from the tube.  My breathing becomes heavy. Freedom should bring an erection.  My fear and the cold leaves it limp and shriveled.  Her finger traces its length.  It twitches but doesn't rise.  She throws the plate on the ground and walks to the table.

Moments later she returns with a different plate.  The tube slides onto my sex.  It feels different.

"slave, this tube has a ring of spikes at its base.  Lust for me inappropriately again and you'll regret it."

The plate closes.  She locks it in place.

"You've been spoiled, slave.  Living a life of luxury that is far better than you deserve.  Welcome to the new world."

She walks behind me.  I feel cold rubber between my thighs.  I take a deep breath and brace myself.  I clench my teeth.  The lube makes it glide.  It presses against me.  I whimper.  I her hear smirk.  More force.

I clench my teeth.  It violates me, sliding deep inside.  Tears fill my eyes.  I hear the click of the bracket, locking it in place.  My frozen muscles strain to support me.  This woman frightens me.

She circles back around and takes my nipples between her fingers.  She presses her body against mine as she teases.  The fur dances up and down the front of my body.  I can smell her.  She's wet.  She twists and pulls.  My mouth opens ready to moan.  My sex springs to life.  Pain.  I shriek.  The spikes leave me flaccid.

"Test failed, slave.  We'll have to take away those nipples."

She reaches into her pocket.  I hear a small chain jingle.  The first clamp bites my nipple.  I wince.  She tightens it.  I clench my teeth.  Click.  The second clamp bites.  I grunt.  Tighter and tighter.  Click.

She tugs on the chain connecting the clamps.  My mouth opens but I force myself to stay silent.  Mistress disappears from view.  I hear her footsteps behind me.  Snap.  I yelp.  Snap. Tears fill my eyes.  I try to place the pain.  It's her quirt on my buttocks.  Snap.  I writhe and moan.  Snap.  My body bucks in response.  Snap.

The blows cease.  It's rare for Mistress to use a whip.  She feels like she doesn't have enough control to use them usually.  Today is different.  No holding back.  This is my punishment for attempting an erection.  She leaves me dangling for a couple of minutes.  My mind settles in.  Don't look at her.  Don't speak.  No erection attempts.  Bow every time.  Today will be a long day.

The motor whirs and lowers me back to the floor.

"slave, make me breakfast."

She turns and walks out the gate without a second glance.  I lower the chain from the hook and waddle across the room after her, careful not to let the chains make a sound.

END ACT

6 comments:

  1. It looks like the perfect Mistress Cassandra does have some darkness. ...still enjoying the story.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, Miss Lily. She's a bit of a control freak, so the idea of letting go is something she wishes to explore but is wary...

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  2. Fur, have you been peeking into my basement? If I'd known you were lurking, you might have had a chance to join in the fun. But then, writing about the slave weekend is also a form of fun, no?

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Lady Grey :)

      If that is indeed happening in your basement I would be tempted to take a peek.

      Writing is fun, but not quite as fun.

      Delete
  3. Sounds like a great way to start the day.

    ReplyDelete