In Helen’s Hands

by Nanisi Barrett D'Arnuk

  “No. It’s time to be a big girl in the big city. Make your own decisions. Okay, what did Helen say? If I wanted out, I could ask for it anytime. This isn’t like a marriage or a lifetime commitment.”

  Or was it? Last night’s sex had been incredible, and I could have that again. All the time? How often did Helen want it? She’d have two of us now, so she must want it frequently.

  But she’d make all the decisions. Did I want that? Hadn’t I wished that someone would take over once in a while? That someone would think for me, so I could concentrate on my music? Yes. That was exactly what I wanted.

  I headed for the subway station that would take me back uptown.

  * * *

  It was dark when I arrived at Helen’s. I knew the moment I turned the key in the lock, heard Helen’s cough from the music studio, and saw Neisy’s face that I’d been gone much too long. I left my suitcase in the entryway and went to the piano. Helen didn’t look up from her copy of Variety. I waited in the doorway.

  “Do you want to be released from your contract?” she asked, not looking up.

  I sank to my knees in front of her. “Oh no, ma’am,” I said with urgency. “I wasn’t sure, but I am now.”

  She slowly looked down at me.

  “I walked around, thinking about it. I’ve always walked when I have to make a decision. I had to be sure.”

  “And now you are?” she asked.

  “Oh yes, ma’am.”

  She studied me for a moment, then nodded. Finally, she smiled. “Good. When we start, there’s got to be no question in your mind. If we stop, that’s it. There’ll be no stopping and starting.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you won’t need to walk around anymore. When you need a decision, I’ll give it to you.” She chuckled in a way that made me a bit scared. Was she going to punish me? Please? “I suppose I should punish you for making me worry.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I lowered my eyes to the floor, not wanting her to see the fear or hope.

  “What should that punishment be, do you think?”

  “Whatever you wish, ma’am.”

  “Should I spank you?” she said with a smile in her voice.

  “If you’d like, ma’am,” I answered, holding my breath. No, she knew I wanted to be punished. The worst punishment would be not being punished.

  After a well-timed silence, she asked “Have you had dinner?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  There was silence again. Finally, I peeked to see what she was thinking. She sat in her chair, holding a Sherman. Her look insinuated that there was something I needed to do. Smiling, I reached for her lighter and held the flame for her. Finally, after a long inhale and a brief cough, she looked at me.

  “Well, my boy, Neisy has been holding dinner. I think we should eat now and get a good night’s sleep. There’s a lot to be done tomorrow. And I think you’re much too willing to be punished.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I smiled.

  “But,” she started, pointing, “you will not cause me to worry again. If you are detained, you will call. If you have questions, you will tell me. Is that clear? I don’t want to be your mother, but I won’t be left hanging, not knowing where you are. This is New York City. This is a dangerous place. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I…”

  She held up her hand to stop me. “You have a phone with you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You will code this number into it immediately.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Enough. That was the first time you erred. It will be the last. I’m very sure of that. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then go tell Neisy we’re ready for dinner.”

  Chapter Five

  Dinner was good: broiled pork chops, Helen’s favorite; rice; and green beans. Neisy was a good cook, nothing fancy but tasty and well prepared.

  For dessert, Neisy brought out éclairs she’d gotten at a local bakery. Helen seemed pleased by them.

  It felt like a family. Helen held the place at the head of the table, Neisy and me on either side of her like sisters, me the younger, although I had the feeling I was a couple years older than Neisy. I watched my manners and tried to fit in.

  As she finished eating, Helen looked at me. “You will do the cleaning after meals. Neisy does the cooking, and you will do the dishes. You can share the rest of the responsibilities.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Neisy, take it upon yourself to explain things to the boy.”

  “With pleasure, Mistress.”

  As we rose from the table, Neisy went to the bar and poured a glass of sherry and brought it to Helen, who moved to her black leather chair, again reading Variety. It seemed like a comfortable evening after dinner in the average American household.

  As Neisy helped me clean, showing me where everything belonged, she told me about Helen’s likes and dislikes.

  “She drinks vodka with a splash of tonic water and a twist of lemon. Not too much tonic. She likes to taste the vodka.” She grinned. “She’s also very particular about the quality of the food she eats. Most things we can buy at D’Agostino’s around the corner. She has a charge account there. I’ll remind her to add your name.

  “Meats and produce have to be chosen specially. There are several little produce shops in the area that she likes. And only bread from Zabar’s. Never get a regular loaf of white bread. You’ll end up eating it…all in one sitting…and without any water.” She laughed as if speaking from personal experience. “She loves chocolate but not too much of it. And always broiled food, never fried.

  “She can get on a health food kick and drink nothing but gallons of that damned carrot and celery juice for days, or she’ll open a bottle of sherry and drink half of it before she goes to bed. She’s a woman of extremes. Nothing is ever halfway.

  “And those cigarettes! Make sure you keep an eye on how many are left under the bar. Always make sure there’s at least three new packs. If the supply gets low, call Nat Sherman’s over on Fifth Avenue, and they’ll deliver. She’s one of the few who have them make those eight-inch things. Don’t ever let her run out, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  Neisy went on and on until I thought my head would split open. So many little details. How would I ever remember them all?

  As we finished, Neisy showed me where the linens were kept. I made my bed, unpacked my few possessions, and started to settle in.

  Neisy beckoned from the door. “Come say good night,” she whispered. “Always check with her before you go to bed.”

  I followed her to the living room.

  “We’ve finished, Mistress,” Neisy began when Helen finally acknowledged our presence. “Is there anything you’d like before we turn in?”

  Helen looked at each of us. “Are you settled in?” she asked me.

  “Pretty much, ma’am,” I answered, remembering my manners. “I still have things at the cleaners.”

  “Well, if you need anything, just let Neisy know. She’ll tell you where to get it. Get a good night’s sleep. Both of you. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Mistress,” Neisy said as she crept over to Helen. Helen raised her cheek, and Neisy planted a soft kiss there, then disappeared into her bedroom. I hesitated. Was that the way I was supposed to kiss Helen good night, too?

  “Questions, Little Butch?” Helen asked.

  “I’m just not sure of the protocol,” I said softly.

  Helen smiled. “If I want to kiss something, then I will, but I dislike being kissed on the mouth,” she stated flatly. “If you wish, you can kiss my cheek or my hand.” She smiled evilly. “Or my shoe, if that makes you happy.”

  I could feel myself start to blush. “Not tonight, if it pleases you, Mistress, ma’am,” I whispered in my most submissive tone, trying to keep a stupid grin off my face.

  “Watch yourself, Mickey Mouth, that’s
getting close.”

  I smiled, planted a quick kiss on her cheek, and went into my room. This would take some getting used to. As I settled down between the crisp white sheets of my new bed, it hit me. I was living with Helen Robins. The Helen Robins. And I was more than just working for her. I was…what? Her lover? Her playmate? Her toy? As I started to drift off to sleep, I thought of Frank and Ann in Boston. If they only knew.

  * * *

  The next night, as Helen was getting up from the dinner table, she stopped and looked at both of us. “Nine o’clock. Sharp,” was her only comment before she walked up the stairs toward her bedroom.

  I looked at Neisy, who had a huge smile across her face.

  “Does that…” I wasn’t sure I read the comment right, but Neisy nodded.

  “We’d better hurry and get ready. This is something you don’t want to be late for.” She began clearing the table.

  “But does that mean…”

  “We have to be ready in the dungeon when she gets there at nine o’clock on the button. You don’t want to be late or look like you’ve rushed in. That’s important. Always be there ahead of time. And get there early if you need a shower. At least this time it’s just nine o’clock. When she really means business, it’s never a round number.” She studied me. “Looks like your training starts tonight, Little Butch.” She drew my name out in a mocking tone but smiled and laughed. “I can’t wait to see this. You’re gonna love it. Now, remember your manners. It’s the proper attitude that will please her. And remember to always say thank you.”

  “Thank you? For what?”

  “For each time she allows you to please her. Each stroke of her whip, each slap of her hand is a gift from her. Let her know that you’re grateful for her allowing you to please her and for being here.”

  I had to stop and consider that. Grateful that she abused me? Or grateful that she allowed me to feel the pain of her love? Or grateful that she gave me such incredible orgasms? This was weird, but I could get used to it.

  I followed her into the kitchen with my arms full of dishes and my stomach protesting the extra cup of coffee I’d had. I took a deep breath to try and quiet it, but my stomach had decided to do calisthenics, and nothing could settle it.

  * * *

  At nine o’clock, both Neisy and I were kneeling in the middle of the dungeon, naked, our backs to the door when I heard it open.

  “Nice.” Helen’s voice sighed as she entered. “I see that Neisy has given you good instructions to start. That’s very good.” She stalked toward us, but the sound of my own heartbeat threatened to drown out every other sound.

  “Neisy, you will assist me tonight. You may stand.”

  “Thank you, Mistress,” Neisy said as she got up. I started to let myself settle onto my heels, but a sharp rap on the shoulder stopped me.

  “Don’t get comfortable, Little Butch, we’re just beginning.” Helen’s voice was close behind me, over my shoulder.

  “This will be your first lesson, but it will be the most important one. The main thing you need to learn is control. In all things, you will never be in control of the situation except for one very important aspect: yourself. You must learn to control your actions and your reactions. You must learn to control your own pacing. You must learn to control your mind and your body. That’s where we’ll start tonight. Now, crawl to that corner.”

  I stared.

  “Don’t ever look a domina in the eye unless she tells you to,” she warned, her eyes narrowing. “Keep your eyes lowered in respect. Looking your domina in the eye makes her think you’re challenging her. Don’t even think of challenging a command.”

  I had to think about that. Why would I balk at a command?

  “That can get you in very deep trouble. Now, get on all fours and crawl to that platform in the corner.” Her voice was stern but not cold. I knew I could do what she asked. I crawled to the far wall and up onto the eight-inch-tall platform built into the corner of the room.

  “Now stand up.”

  I got to my feet and started to turn toward her.

  Her sharp, “Did I tell you to turn around?” stopped me.

  “No, ma’am,” I whispered and faced the wall.

  “Good. Now turn around.”

  I understood. Don’t think, just obey to the letter. Okay, if these are the rules… I turned to face her.

  “Raise your hands over your head.” I looked at her. She slapped my face, not gently, but without much force. “Why are you looking at me?”

  I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

  “Not good enough. Admit your transgression. Then ask for forgiveness. Humbly. With the right amount of respect.” She took a step back and waited.

  I swallowed. This was tougher than I thought. “I’m sorry I looked in your eyes, Mistress,” I stammered, trying to find the right words. “It was stupid and rude of me. I wouldn’t think of questioning your requests. I ask for your forgiveness.”

  “Ask? You should beg for my forgiveness.”

  “I beg your forgiveness.”

  I waited, praying she’d accept that. “This time I will forgive you,” she said after what seemed like an hour. “But the next time, there will be a price to pay for your transgression.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, keeping my eyes on the floor.

  “Now raise your hands above your head.” She waited as I reached above me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neisy taking some equipment from the armoire. Then, Neisy came over and pulled two chains down from the ceiling to shackle my hands.

  She took out a flat metal bar about four feet long with leather cuffs chained to each end. Kneeling in front of me, she buckled the cuffs to each of my ankles. My legs were spread wide apart. It was a little disturbing that I couldn’t move my feet, that my legs were stretched. I swallowed. If this was what Helen wanted… Then she went to the wall and pulled the chains attached to my wrists up through the pulleys on the ceiling until I was stretched to my full height. I felt like a target. There was no way to move, except my chest pumped in and out as my breathing started escalating.

  “That’s very nice. Very nice indeed,” Helen said, pacing up to me. “Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then you remember that you belong to me, and you’ll do anything I say. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You remember that you pledged to please me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I could leave you here, just like this for days if I wanted, and you wouldn’t protest?”

  “No, ma’am.” I was starting to feel a little scared that she wasn’t just playing with my head.

  “No, I can’t leave you here or no, you won’t protest?”

  “No, ma’am, I wouldn’t protest.” Was I starting to sweat?

  She hesitated. My breathing quickened. “Relax, Little Butch.” Helen laughed, caressing my face. “I have no intention of leaving you here.” She stopped. “This time.” There was a sinister edge to her voice. “We have more important things to do tonight. Neisy, bring me the clamps.”

  Neisy handed her some small alligator clamps held together by a thin silver chain.

  Helen stepped close to me and ran her hand over my chest.

  “You have very nice breasts,” she said. “And wonderful nipples. So dark and large. I think this will work just fine.” As she spoke, she ran her hands over my breasts, stopping at each nipple to coax it to erection. A series of tremors ran through my body as she rolled each one between her fingers.

  “You like having your nipples touched, don’t you, boy?” she said, almost through her teeth.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I sighed, beginning to feel the heat rise between my legs.

  “It turns you on, doesn’t it?” Her touch became harder as she pinched.

  “Yes, Mistress.” My breath was already a little ragged. What was she going to do?

  “Excellent. This pleases
me very much.” Her pinching began to get harder and harder. “You do want to please me, don’t you, boy?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” All I wanted right then was to touch my nipples and rub the teasing away. It was becoming unsettling.

  “And this hurts, but you enjoy it, don’t you, because it pleases me.” Her grasp on my nipples had gotten tighter and tighter.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I knew I could get through this. Couldn’t I? It was what she wanted me to do, and that made me want it even more.

  “Then this will feel even better.” She placed the clamps, one on each of my nipples, and tightened them until the pain made my eyes water. “Are these too tight?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I was breathing shallowly, trying to keep my chest from moving.

  “I don’t think so. I can make them tighter. See?” She gave the screw on each clamp an extra quarter turn. I gasped as the pain shot through me. “You do enjoy this pain, don’t you? Because it pleases me very much.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I moaned, not quite sure I meant what I was saying.

  “Excellent. Now let’s see what we can add. Neisy?”

  Neisy handed her something, then stepped back. Helen held out a small copper cowbell and hung it on the chain that connected the two clamps. As she let it drop, its weight pulled on the clamps, and pain shot through me. I gasped as the bell rang loudly.

  “Does that hurt?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I stammered, trying to keep the tears in my eyes from falling.

  “Very much?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I shouldn’t think it would, but I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I sighed, giving up all hope that this would end soon. The pain was so constant that it was beginning to have a strange effect. If I forced my concentration away, I could almost ignore it. I looked at the floor, trying to estimate how far it was to the door. Anything to keep my mind occupied. I had to survive this without letting Helen down. I was handling it better than I thought I could. I couldn’t imagine what I was experiencing. Now, if I could reach that point where the pain spilled over into pleasure.