Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Fiction: fs01 - Part 46



XLVI

Mistress has kept me off balance for the past few weeks.  Her behavior and expectations for me flow back and forth with her mood.  I’ve learned to read her attitude based upon her mannerisms and her clothing.  Much of our time feels “normal,” while she dons her favorite robe and our interactions with the accustomed dynamics she has fine-tuned over the years.  She shows more of her sweet and tender side to me, sometimes on date nights, others in the bedroom.  Our passion for each other burns as strong as it did during our first weeks together. 

Some days Mistress becomes Wanda.  She dresses in the way that makes her feel the sexiest; she loves her leather and fur.  By the 3rd time it was clear she settled into her “uniform” for these days, leather pants, knee high boots, bustier, gloves, and a fox fur stroller with matching hat.  She created a ritual from it; the slave places “the crown upon the Goddess” before kneeling to kiss her feet.  On these days I know I will be cold.  Her cruelty will know no bounds.  On these days I will suffer and hurt by her whims.

My heart holds true to the promises I made.  I love her no matter which side of her she shows me.  My heart grows even stronger knowing that she believes in me enough to do this.  I feel even more resilient. 

Today is a new day.  Uniform version 3.0 is here, finding Mistress’s happy medium between 1.0 and 2.0.  The punishment lining, tighter fit, and more outlandish appearance remains.  The posture collar, nipple cuffs have thankfully been removed.  The blinders return to optional status.  The gloves, muff, rice filled kneepads, and headwear carry over the same as 2.0.  Mistress likes my discomfort but this discomfort is apparently more functional to her needs. 

Today’s hat displays “sissy boi” embroidered on the front.  My face flushes red as she locks my head harness in place.  I always hate to be called “boi.”  Mistress knows this and chose it because of that.  My nose crinkles a little in displeasure.  She kisses her fingertip and pats it on the tip of my nose with a sly grin.  With the locks fully in place she departs to her room while I attend to my daily chores.

The doorbell rings.  I make my way to the entry and answer it.  A familiar scent of perfume enters my nose sending my pulse into a frenzy.  My breathing heaves and sweat beads on my face.  The door swings open, my terrified eyes reflect back at me in the goggles.  Those masks.  My body trembles.  I crouch into a ball and topple to the floor, my hands grip my head; I weep.  Pain and anguish fill my brain and logic is nowhere to be found. 

“We’ve found the inmate, get him ready for transport.  He has 6-more weeks of rehabilitation to serve.”

My mouth rambles on without reason or control.  “No no no no no no no no no.”
“You’re such a bitch, Tabitha.  Can’t you see he’s full on PTSD?”
“Cass!  You should get over here now, the little one is having a meltdown.” 

The next few minutes are a blur.  The voices are familiar but my brain is unable to process.  I regain my bearings on the love seat.  Mistress holds me in her arms, my face against her chest.  She is warm and I can feel her heart beat. 

I look up at her.  The mask.  My body flees on its own and I struggle against her grasp.  I shut my eyes tight and sobs spill out from my lips. 

“Stop, pet.  It’s okay.” 
A string of gibberish and whines leave my mouth.  I feel her hand on my head.  I rub against it out of instinct. 

“Silence, slave, your Mistress commands it.” 
My lips close abruptly, responding to her call.  My body tenses, the flailing stops.  I open my eyes slowly and look upon her.  The mask is gone, the warmth of her eyes guides me. 
“Calm down now, pet.  You’re okay.”

She smiles at me.  My eyes continue to tear. 
“I’m proud of you, pet.  I love you so much.”

I slump into her arms, my eyes focus only on Mistress.  I calm my breathing as best I can. 
“Please remove your masks.”

Mistress’s voice is calm and confident.  I hear an array of voices in the background but I do not dare look away from Mistress.  I feel like a frightened child clinging to a parent. 

A less familiar voice enters.
“It seems that your little prison experiment was quite effective if the reaction was that strong after only 4 days.”
It must be Amanda.

“We worked him over pretty good.” 
“I didn’t expect him to freak out that bad when we walked in the door.”

After several minutes I relax enough to look at Mistress without tunnel vision.  She is quite beautiful in her guard uniform.  The coat fits her well, accenting her body’s curves.  The fur collar dances off of her chin and cheeks as she moves her head.  The hat makes her look serious and “official.” 

She notices the change in my expression.  She snaps her fingers and points at the floor.  I nod and climb off of the love seat, parking myself on my knees on the floor next to her.  Her hand pets my head.  I slowly scan the room.  Dominique, Lauren, and Tabitha are seated around us.  Amanda is present as well. 

“pet, today we will be filming the exit interviews for the prison experiment.  You will participate in them as well.”

I turn to her and nod.  My mind flashes to memories of Intro to Psych in college and the grainy post-experiment interviews that were part of our cast study on the Stanford Prison Experiment. 

“They want you in your prison uniform for the interviews, pet.”

Lauren places a bag on the coffee table. 

“Would any of you girls like to strip him?”

My eyes open wide.  My face flushes red with embarrassment and my body becomes rigid. 

“Yes, please,” replies Lauren.  I swallow hard; the anxiety builds again within me.
“They’ve all seen you naked, pet, no reason to get all bashful now.”

Mistress tosses the keys to Lauren.  I rise slowly and present myself.  Lauren guides my body as Mistress describes the location of all of the locks on my uniform.  After a couple of minutes I stand naked except for my chastity belt in the center of the room, feeling their eyes on me. 

“He keeps himself nicely groomed, Cass.”  Amanda’s voice breaks the silence.

I fidget my fingers hoping time will somehow move faster.  Lauren opens the bag and presents my prison uniform.  I dress for her, it feels familiar and surreal at the same time.  The mask goes on without a gag and she buckles the head harness in place.  Leg irons soon follow with handcuffs as the finishing touch, securing my wrists behind my back.

“May I, Cassandra?”
“Of course.”

Lauren steps behind me and I quickly feel the bite of the leather strap across my rear.  I yelp and hop a little at its impact.  I feel the skin burn hot; a second blow doesn’t follow.  Lauren sits and the women converse around me.  They quickly clear the small talk and soon the camera is set up on its tripod facing a chair and table. 

Mistress sits and is the first to be on camera.  Amanda asks the questions.

“Cassandra, how did it feel to take on the role of a prison guard?”
“Hrm, I’m not sure how to describe it exactly… empowered… powerful… superior.  After a few hours I stopped seeing the inmate as a person.”

“How did you see him?”
“Like he deserved this… like he didn’t deserve to have any rights… like he was garbage… that this experience should be as bad as possible since it was a punishment.”

“Interesting.  Do you feel your prior relationship to the experiment affected you in any way?  Did you give him any preferential treatment?”
“Definitely not.  I actually felt like I was worse to him because of our relationship.  Like I had to prove that I could be as hard as everyone else.”

“Did it bother you hurting him?”
“Yes and no.  It seemed my mind found a place rather quickly… where I found great joy in his suffering.  I started looking forward to harassing him and watching the others do it in their own way.”

“Did it bother you to realize that?”
“Yes.  Definitely.  It scared me but the feeling was addictive.  Now that it is over I feel like I can understand the balance better.  Just because something is a part of me doesn’t mean it is the only part of me that has a voice.”

“If you could do it over again, would you still want to take part in this experiment?”
“Definitely.  I learned so much about myself, I would do it again in a heart beat.”

The camera beeps and Mistress returns to her spot on the love seat.  My heart calms a bit as my assumptions about Mistress were verified.  I love her.  I would do anything for her.  Dominique is up next. 

“Dominique, how did you feel in the role of prison guard?”
“Bored.  All these rules to follow… they were suffocating.”

“Did it bother you hurting the prisoner?”  Dominique bursts out into a violent laugh.  Her smile is true and pure.  She regains her composure.
“I wasn’t sure if you were serious.  It didn’t bother me at all.  I got tired of holding back.”

“So you wanted to hurt him?”
“I live to hear the little one scream.  I’ve had him in my grasp before but I wasn’t allowed to go all the way.  I had been waiting for this for months.  I got to cross another few things off my bucket list for him.”

“I was informed that you broke protocol during stage 2 of his rehabilitation.  Why did you do that?”
“Seriously?  I make no apologies for my behavior.  I am a sadist and many would probably call me a psychopath.  The little one is special.  Was I the only one who could see that he was on the verge of a complete collapse?  I did what I did to save him.  When I’m the voice of reason, it’s safe the say the train is well off the track.” 

“Interesting.  How did you know he had reached that point?”
“Simple.  Experience.  There’s no substitute for seeing and doing.  You get a feel for thing, especially after you take them too far.  It wasn’t fair to the little one to be the one that taught the others that lesson.”

“If you could do it over again, would you?”  She exhales deeply.  I’ve never Dominique so deep in thought.
“I wouldn’t want to, but if it was the little one again as the prisoner, I suppose I would.”

“Why is that?”
“I’ve seen him at his weakest.  He needs someone to protect him.  His devotion can betray him.  He forces himself to endure even if it will break him.  Like I said before, the little one is special.”

The camera beeps and stops.  As Dominique rises our eyes meet.  I smile bashfully at her.  Her lips part in an evil grin.  She continues to save me when I need her, although I still find her utterly terrifying. 

Tabitha is next in the chair. 

“How did it feel to take on the role as a prison guard?”
“I was excited at first but as time went on… I didn’t care for it so much.”

“Why is that?”
“I had a lot of anger built up.  The rush at first was great.  As I saw the effects of what we were doing… what I was doing… I was able to let go of a lot.  He isn’t the one I was angry at.  I tried to play the role but my heart just wasn’t in it.”

“Is that why you avoided taking on personal guard duty after the first day?”
“I would like to say yes, but honestly, it was mostly because it was boring and I was cold.”

“Do you harbor any feelings about the way you behaved toward the prisoner?”
“A little bit.  I was just doing my job.  I was surprised that he managed to put up with all of it.”

“If you could do it over again, would you still take part in this?”
“Good question.  I think if I still felt the way I did at the start, yes.  It was worth it to get rid of those feelings.  If it was right now, no.”

The camera beeps and Tabitha stands.  She doesn’t look at me.  I can sense that she doesn’t want to. 

Lauren gets up from her chair and moves across the room.  As she passes her perfume sets my nerves aflame, my entire body quivers.  The sense of terror disturbs my soul and takes all of my self-control to suppress it.  Sweat beads on my face. 

“How did it feel to take on the role as a guard?”
“Amazing.  Empowering.  I felt more alive than I had in a long time.  It was addictive.”

“Why do you think it felt that way?”
“I had been living in fear for so long, ever since I was raped.  Reversing the roles… the power, I felt strong again… no… stronger.”

“Do you think that kind of empowerment made you abusive?”
“Not really.  Everything was consensual to our little prisoner wasn’t it?  I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“I heard that you had a little wager on methods, can you elaborate on them?”
“Cassandra thought that cruelty would be more motivating.  I thought that the appearance of kindness would be more effective.  I won the bet and it wasn’t even close.”

“Did that use of kindness give you any kind of moral dilemma?”
“Not at all.  If he was na├»ve enough to fall for it, then he deserved to be tricked.”

“You don’t seem to think too highly of the prisoner I take it?”  Lauren laughs.  It unnerves me.
“I don’t see how he can even think of himself as a real person.  He’s just a peon that gets bossed around by a woman all the time, isn’t he?  How am I supposed to respect that?  I have shoes that are worth more.”

“If you could do it over, would you still take part in the experiment?”
“Definitely yes.  I would do it again and again and again.  The power felt amazing.”

The camera beeps.

“pet, you’re up next.” 

I turn to Mistress and nod.  I take a deep breath and shuffle my way across the room, the chains clinking gently with each step.  I sit down in the chair facing the camera.  I have to sit forward to keep the handcuffs from digging into my wrists.   I look at the ground, I feel embarrassed.

“What kind of feelings did you have during the experiment?”  I stutter a little bit with my reply.
“Ma’am… I… felt helpless… hopeless… scared…”

“How long did it take you to feel hopeless?”
“About 1 day, Ma’am.”

“You felt this way even though you knew this was only temporary?”
“Yes, Ma’am.  I couldn’t see a way out.” 

”Do you believe this would be an effective rehabilitation program for criminals who committed crimes against women?”
“Yes, Ma’am.  I don’t think they could go through this without being ‘changed.’”

“Could you imagine serving 5 years under these conditions?”  Something in my chest grips me.  I have to force the words to come out.
“No, Ma’am.”

“Why not?”
“I don’t think anyone could last 5 years without breaking.” 
I feel my eyes tear up.  I can’t stop them, their reaction is beyond my control.

“Was there anything that affected you the most?”
I cover my face with my hands and weep.  My head nods slowly in the direction of the camera lens.

“What would that be?”
I can’t speak.  The memories overwhelm me.  Amanda is patient, she does not rush me.  I slowly regain my composure.  I don’t want to speak.  I don’t want to say it.  I sniffle and cough.  My mouth feels dry.
“I thought that Miss Lauren was kind.”

I sob again.  I want this to stop.
“How did that affect you the most?”  I spit the words out between cries.
“It hurt my heart.”

“Thank you, that will be all.”
“Hold on.  You forgot the last question.”  Mistress’s voice interjects.
“Do you really think we need to ask that, Cass?”
“Trust me.”

Amanda faces to me again and speaks.
“If you could go back and do it over, would you?”  My response is brief.  I do not waver.
“Yes.  I would.”

The camera beeps. 

“pet, go lay in the corner.”
I nod without looking up.  I shuffle to the far corner of the room, drop to my knees, and slump onto my side.  I am exhausted.  I close my eyes.  Their voices fill the room behind me.  I hear their words but do not focus on the voices behind them.  I do not wish to.  I just want to disappear.

“That’s bullshit, I can’t believe he would do it over again.”
“I believe most of you each owe me a bottle of wine.  This was actually a fantasy of his.  The thought of it turned him on.”
“Bullshit.”
“If you don’t believe me, ask Theresa about what Femdom legal talk does to him.”
“I just don’t get it.” 
“fs is a special one.”
“Yeah, special like mentally ill.”

The voices eventually trail off.  They slowly decrease in number.  Mistress permits me to rest.  She understands when my emotions have hit their limit.  Only two voices remain. 

“pet, get back in your uniform.  We have company.” 

My ears perk up instinctively at the sound of Mistress’s voice.  I quickly rise and return to the center of the room.  Lauren unlocks my handcuffs, leg irons, and head harness and helps me get back into my maid’s uniform.  She is rough with the buckles.  She feels distant… so different from the woman I thought I knew.  Her eyes are cold and emotionless.  The locks click one by one.  A final lock secures my wrists together behind my back. 

“I’m going to take a bath.  Lauren wishes to speak with you.”
I turn to Mistress and nod and watch her as she departs down the hall.  Lauren is close to me, her perfume sets my nerves ablaze. 

She sits in a chair in front of me. 
“Kneel.”
I nod and drop to my knees.
“Move closer.” 
I shuffle to her.  She leans forward while I divert my eyes.  I can feel her breath on my cheek, our faces are separated by inches. 

“So this is what a sissy looks like.”  Her voice cuts into me with a mix of disgust and hostility.  I feel the temperature in my face rise.  This shame penetrates my heart.  I close my eyes.

“It must turn you on to be controlled and get bossed around.  Isn’t that a little pathetic?  I’ll bet most women would be disgusted by you.”

She taps her foot on the front of my belt.  The metal ping rings clear over the sound of my breath. 

“How ever did you manage to con a woman as beautiful as Cassandra to choose you?  You don’t deserve her, but I think you already know that.”

Tears form in my eyes.  The sting in my heart grows stronger.

“Why don’t you say anything?  Tell me that I’m wrong.  I dare you.  Show me that you have a spine.” 
“I have a spine.”  I blurt out my reply without thought.  My own voice surprises me.  I hear her scoff under her breath.

“Why do you just accept this then?”
“Because it’s all true.”  The floodgates open and my eyes rain.  I speak out from my heart.
“It’s all true.  I don’t deserve Mistress.  She is too beautiful, too smart, too amazing for someone like me.  I love her.  I do my best for her.  I am lucky that she accepts me.  I cherish every day that I spend with her.”

“That’s enough, pet.”  Mistress’s voice instantly grabs my attention.  I twist my body and see her in the entry. 
“Normally I would let him just be himself and you would understand, but I think you have are missing something here, Lauren.  Something critical.”

Mistress paces across the room and sits on the love seat.  I continue to kneel, unable to contain my smile. 
“Please enlighten me, Cassandra.”
“I get the distinct impression that you believe my slave is weak.”
“Isn’t he?  He just follows whatever you say.”
“Not in the slightest.  I just left him in a room with a woman who spent days torturing him, raped him, and violated his body and his trust.  I’m sure his feelings are being torn to shreds inside listening to you.”
“But he just takes it.”
“He endures, Lauren.  He knows what I expect of him.  He maintains his composure and manners in situations that would crush an ordinary person.  How can you think this is weak?”

Lauren sits back in her chair.  The sound of her breath tells me she is flustered. 
“Why would you put him through this?  If you supposedly love him, why would you do that?”
“Because I have unwavering faith that he is strong enough to handle it.  I believe with absolute certainty his desire to please me will triumph over any hardship in his path.  Do you think that is weak?  A coward would have turned and run years ago.”

Mistress’s words fill my heart with joy.  I find peace in her.  She is the love of my life.  Mistress continues before Lauren can reply.

“He does have one quality that makes him absolutely dear to me.  He has no idea what he is worth.  After literally thousands of men, he was the only one I found deserving of me.  If he’s broken it’s in such a way where he will never truly believe that.  It keeps him trying so hard… like he’s on a never-ending quest to make me happy.  He will never stop trying, never feel like he’s enough.  He is the strongest man I have ever met.”

I look up at Lauren.  She sits slumped back, her head tilted so that her face points to the ceiling. 

“Lauren, I know that somewhere down the line you must have lost your belief in love.  Lost the desire to trust.  To love freely, openly, to expose your vulnerability, that is not weak at all.  If anything I think you could learn that from my slave.”

I shuffle closer to the chair, close my eyes and place my head sideways on Lauren’s lap.  I feel her hands pet my head.  I hope to sooth her.  I think this is what Mistress wants as well.  We sit in silence.  I feel her fingers run through the fur on my hat and earmuff.  I want to sooth her and mend her heart.  I want her to feel safe being kind.

We part ways not long after.  Lauren remains quiet, I can sense that she is processing her thoughts and her heart.  Later that night I lay with Mistress.  She has changed into her robe and I stay in my uniform.  I am the little spoon. 

“Mistress?”
“Yes, pet?”
“Did you really mean all of those things you said today?”
“Yes, pet, every single one.”
“Thank you, Mistress.  I love you.  You make me so happy.”
“I love you too, pet.”

I smile from deep in my heart.  I feel the warmth of her breath on my neck.

“Mistress?”
“Yes, pet?”
“How many bottles of wine did you win in your bet today?”
“3 bottles, pet.  Can you guess who wouldn’t take the bet?” 
“Was it Miss Dominique, Mistress?”
“That’s what I love about you, pet.  You’re not only strong, but you’re also smart.”
“Thank you, Mistress.  I love you so much it makes my heart hurt.”

I feel her arms tighten around me and she squeezes.
“Speech privileges removed.”

END ACT / END OF ARC

6 comments:

  1. This quote just bothers me
    “I don’t see how he can even think of himself as a real person. He’s just a peon that gets bossed around by a woman all the time, isn’t he? How am I supposed to respect that? I have shoes that are worth more.”

    I hope she is not based on a real person. I hate her.

    Thank you for writing!

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    1. Thank you, Miss Lily. That quote is based upon an amalgam of voices I have heard over the years from people that just don't understand.

      She represents the ugly and ignorant voice of the vanilla world.

      Delete
  2. A fine wrap-up for your ARC, fur. So much of what you write seems to represent a fantasy with such extremes that it seems impossible that such a situation could really occur. I'm sure it speaks of your own inner desires, but would you actually put yourself through all of that for the right woman? Well, of course you would, fur. I have no doubts about that at all. I'd like to wish you well in your search for such extremes, but I won't because I fear for your safety should you happen upon a Dom who would let that happen to you. In the end, I'm not feeling particularly good about the Cass character. She goes from evil villain to concerned savior, and seems to love fiction fur only when it suits her needs, with little regard to the damage that can and does ensue to someone she supposedly loves. Not my style, I suppose, but fun to read about when I'm not cursing her under my breath.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you, Lady Grey. Your words always mean a lot to me

      It does scare me that my fantasies tread the line of "bat shit crazy," but writing simulated dynamics draws me in.

      If anything I am realistic that anything resembling this fiction would take years to build to and I cannot anticipate how I would change over the course of that process.

      It is interesting to me that you have such strong feelings to Cassandra, but I am starting to make sense of it. She probably appears very irresponsible. I think my own fault in this is thinking that just because someone "could" handle it, that this would be allowed to happen. It is good to know that I am probably wrong in this regards.

      Delete
  3. My favorite part about this segment is the lesson that Mistress Cass imparts on Lauren. While I ended up really despising this character, it seems that Cass was right...she lost her way and stopped believing in love... Well done, furcissy!

    ReplyDelete