In Helen’s Hands

by Nanisi Barrett D'Arnuk

  I crawled to her and bowed my head to the floor.

  She paced, a habit I was getting used to but still found intimidating. I waited to see where she would stop…in front of me or behind. She did neither but sat on the bench. I waited. “The next time I tell you to stay somewhere, you stay. If you have to go, you’ll hold it until I say you can move. If you can’t do that, I’ll have to chain you down, and believe me, it’ll be in a way you won’t enjoy. Do you understand?” Her voice was low and threatening.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “When I tell you to do something, do it immediately. If I tell you to stop, freeze right where you are. If I say hurry, you run, not saunter. Am I clear?”

  I took a deep breath. “Perfectly, ma’am.”

  “Come over here.”

  I crawled to where she sat and waited.

  “All right, boy,” she said, “what have you learned?”

  “That I have to be able to control myself,” was my immediate answer.

  “And?”

  I thought. “And that I have to be patient for you to make the decisions for me. And that I must obey your wishes.”

  She leaned back. “That’s a good start, boy. Now, do you like being whipped?”

  “Only if it makes you happy to whip me, Mistress.” I smiled, still looking at the floor. I knew that was the answer I should give, but I also realized it was absolutely true.

  “And if it didn’t make me happy?”

  “Then I wouldn’t like it.”

  “Why do you want to make me happy? Why put yourself through all that just for my pleasure?”

  Where was she going with this? “Because you are my Mistress,” I ventured, hoping that was what she wanted.

  “But why do you allow me to be your mistress?”

  “Allow you?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yes. You had the choice. You’re here of your own free will. You’ve chosen to stay. Why?”

  “Because you asked me to.” I was beginning to get flustered.

  “No, I didn’t ask you to. I asked you if you wanted to.”

  “I…I thought you wanted me to.”

  “Whether I did or not, why did you stay? You’re not here for the money. With your talent, you could support yourself quite well. In fact, I’m paying you a good bit of money for your musical talent. Why are you here…in this situation? Why are you staying with someone who loves to torment you?”

  I couldn’t find an answer. At least not the answer I thought she wanted to hear. “Because I want to be yours,” I decided.

  “Come up here and lie on this bench.”

  Slowly, I crawled up beside her, then lay on the bench facedown, my head toward her. She began caressing my back, then my butt, carefully massaging the marks, some from the night before last that had started to fade, and four bright red ones from last night. I closed my eyes and melted into her touch.

  “Do you love me?” Her voice was soft.

  At first, I wasn’t even sure I’d heard her correctly. “Yes, Mistress,” I whispered. I was surprised she’d asked.

  “Are you sure, boy?”

  “Oh yes.” Without hesitating, I turned, gazing up into her eyes. Our eyes met for a few seconds. Realizing what I’d done, I turned away quickly. “I’m sorry, Mistress. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry I raised my eyes to you. I beg your forgiveness.”

  Her hand on my shoulder was gentle. “That’s all right, Little Butch. That time was forgiven.”

  We stayed there for several minutes with her stroking my back. Her gentle touch made the pain of the past twenty-four hours more than worthwhile. How was this happening to me? Was it really love and not just infatuation or idolatry?

  At last she stood. “Either lie here on the bench, or if you want to, sleep under it. You still may not stand. And don’t go anywhere else. I’ll be back. Don’t disappoint me.”

  * * *

  I lay there for quite a long while, trying to figure out what had just happened. Helen had been warm and gentle, the way I had always pictured her in my dreams, not the rigid, demanding mistress I was growing used to.

  Soon, Neisy came with my lunch: a sardine sandwich and another glass of carrot juice. Not two of my favorite foods, but I ate them in silence.

  “Don’t forget to clean the dick and put it away,” she reminded me as she took my empty dish and glass and left.

  Ah, yes. First things first. Don’t get all sentimental.

  Chapter Eight

  The afternoon dragged on. I was bored almost to tears. I wasn’t used to only sitting around with nothing to do. I could hear her playing the piano downstairs. What I really wanted to do was to immerse myself in one of her tapes. I crawled under the bench and curled up for a nap. Neisy woke me with dinner, a piece of fish and a green salad with a vinaigrette dressing. And a cup of coffee.

  “You must have done something good today.” Neisy laughed as I ate in silence. “There was liver waiting for you and another glass of carrot juice!”

  She waited, but I just smiled.

  “You learn quickly. I expected a response.”

  My only response was a chuckle.

  “Well, whatever it was, she’s been in a good mood all afternoon. Better watch it, you never know what she’s planning.”

  I gasped and stared with a questioning look.

  “Don’t ask me.” She shrugged. “I just know her well enough. She’s been smiling all afternoon, so she’s got something up her sleeve.” She looked up at the clock. “Six thirty,” she said as she took my empty plate. “You won’t have long to wait. Nine is usually her time. Better get ready. I’ll let you enjoy your coffee. Just wash the mug and leave it in the bathroom. I’ll get it later.”

  With that, she left.

  Six thirty, I thought, another whole two and a half hours. What could I do to kill the time without going crazy from boredom? I took the chance and went into the bathroom with my coffee to run myself a bath. There was bubble bath on the shelf above the tub so I added some of that. Then I sank down into the warm, foamy water.

  * * *

  The door opened at 8:30. It was Neisy. “Well, Little Butch, I still don’t know what she’s planning, but somehow, I’m a part of it. She gave me the order to come up here and get ready for 9:06. I hope you haven’t gotten me in hot water.”

  I looked at her with my best “Who, me?” look.

  “Yes, you,” she said as she slipped out of her clothes and hung them on the hook behind the door in the bathroom. “I’m going to shower. Better hope your knees hold out.”

  I sat beside the bench, listening to her shower. Damn, was that the most exciting thing I could think of to do? Boredom had become the worst torture of this whole experience. I’d already cleaned the dungeon; inspected all of the equipment in the armoire, making sure they were all clean and neatly placed on their hooks and shelves; and I’d made sure that everything in the bathroom was tidy, in its place, and clean. What was it I’d read somewhere about a man in prison who mentally took his motorcycle apart and rebuilt it to keep from going crazy? Could I perform a whole Beethoven sonata from memory?

  I’d just gotten to the bridge of the “Moonlight Sonata” when Neisy came out of the bathroom patting her still-damp hair, which she’d carefully combed back. “I don’t know how you manage all that hair,” she said. “It’s beautiful and thick, but it’s so long. It must take you hours every day just to get it dry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a butch with such long hair.”

  I ran my hand though the long mass that would have landed at the bottom of my collar if I’d been allowed to wear one. I’d thought of getting it cut short several times but had never gotten around to it. I’d had it short when I was in college but had let it grow since. Maybe now would be the time to get it cropped again. I’d have to ask Helen where there was a good hairdresser.

  “It’s almost time,” Neisy said, pointing at the clock. 9:00. “She said to light the candles and wait.” Neisy looked at me with an evil grin.
“I hope she’s planning what I think she’s planning. You’ll love it.” She smiled and, humming to herself, began to light dozens of candles from the bottom of the armoire and set them around the room. Finally, with the light off so we were lit by candles, she turned back to me. “Better get ready just in case she’s early. Assume the position.”

  We knelt in the center of the room, our backs to the door. It was barely a minute before we heard it open.

  “Ah. My two little ones. Such a pretty sight,” she said. “Neisy, once again, I’ll need your assistance. Please stand up.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “There’s one other thing I want you to do for me tonight. How good are you, boy?” Helen asked.

  “Ma’am?”

  “How good a lover are you?”

  “Uh…well, I haven’t had any complaints.” I smiled.

  Her laughter filled the room. “I guess we shall see. Neisy…stand in the middle of the room.”

  I glanced up. Helen took me by the arm, placing me directly in front of Neisy, still on my knees. “Do her, boy. Let me see how good you are.”

  Neisy and I froze. We looked at each other, unsure.

  “Either you eat her out, or I’ll do something you won’t like half as much. What will it be? I’m sure neither of you will enjoy the way I’ll do her.”

  The tone of Helen’s voice sent chills through me. The warmth of the evening had completely gone. Unsure, I reached to touch Neisy’s legs. Helen stood behind Neisy and spread her legs farther apart. Slowly, I leaned forward and kissed Neisy’s thighs, slowly licking upward until I reached the soft, shaved triangle between her legs.

  Helen pushed her against me. She felt foreign. I had never thought of her as a lover. She put her hands on my shoulders, guiding me as I nibbled the edges of her triangle.

  “Make love to her as you would to me. Neisy is mine. Therefore, Neisy is me,” Helen said.

  With that thought, I didn’t need more urging. My tongue sought the orb that lay hidden within the folds. I drew her into my mouth and began sucking as my fingers sought the source of the wetness. Neisy gasped as I thrust into her. Her breathing became ragged as her hips started to push against me.

  “Is it good, Sweet One?” Helen asked.

  “Oh, yes, Mistress. Very good.”

  “Tell me about it, sweetness.”

  “Oh, Mistress,” Neisy murmured. “Strong hands, like yours…taking me…” Her voice trailed off into a deep sigh.

  “That pleases me.”

  I didn’t need more encouragement. I attacked my prize with renewed enthusiasm. I shot my tongue up into her crotch. Damn! Why wasn’t my tongue longer? I slurped her wetness as I ground her clit between my lips, harder and harder. Soon, Neisy was grinding on my hand, my mouth, my entire face.

  “Mistress, please,” she whimpered, shaking. “I want to come.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, please, Mistress.”

  “Not yet, sweetness. Let’s see what the boy can do.”

  I continued my mission, sucking everything in. The heat in the room seemed to soar. I put the ache in my neck out of mind and continued licking and sucking, slowly but strongly, driving my fingers in and out of her wetness.

  There was a long silence as Neisy’s hips thrust. Without thinking, I slid my hand all the way into her cunt as if she’d sucked me into her. Only heavy breathing came from above. I felt her trembling on the brink.

  “Yes. Come for me now,” Helen said in a husky voice.

  Neisy’s hips bucked against me as she orgasmed against my mouth. Her muscles tightened around my fist as a low growl escaped her throat. As the tension eased, I slipped my hand out. Once again, Neisy shuddered in orgasm. We remained there as if frozen until Neisy started to calm.

  I rubbed the back of my neck to get the stiffness out.

  “Not bad, boy.” Helen moved around me and leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Now, what turns you on? Where is your zone?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t know.

  “I know you like your tits tortured. What else?” She reached down to grab my breasts. I gasped as my whole body reacted to the pain that raced through me. I heard her chuckle. “What else, boy? This?” She wrapped her hand around my throat the way she had before. I sank into her as my bones seemed to melt. “Yes, that’s it, isn’t it?” she whispered as she squeezed a little tighter.

  My mind floated away. I didn’t even know if I could or should breathe. The feel of her hand holding my throat sent me into a whole new dimension. The room, Neisy, everything faded into a mist.

  “Oh, we’ll have to explore this, won’t we? This could be a whole new thing for you. We’ll just have to experiment.” As she released me, I realized how hard I was breathing. I fell forward onto my hands. I felt her rise and heard her talking to Neisy, but I couldn’t have recounted what she said.

  Finally, I realized she was standing in front of me. “You’ll stay here. You know the rules. Do I have to repeat them?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Be a good boy. I’ll be back.”

  I sank onto the floor. What had just happened? Why had I reacted like that? Was this what she’d meant when she’d talked about zoning? I didn’t have a clue. I crept the few feet to the bench and crawled under it. I was asleep almost immediately.

  Chapter Nine

  When I awoke, Neisy was gone, the candles had been extinguished. and the lights had been turned very low. I stretched to get the stiffness out and realized I needed the bathroom.

  Of course, when I came back, Helen was standing there. How did she always know when I was doing something wrong? I sank to my knees.

  Helen just stood there and shook her head, her foot tapping on the floor. A few moments of silence passed as she paced around me. “What can I do to make you follow rules, boy?” she asked. “Why is it so important to stand when you know I want you to kneel?”

  It seemed rhetorical, so I didn’t answer. She walked to the armoire and searched. I heard metal clinking…heavy, thick metal. I didn’t dare look up to see what it was. Then she sidled to the platform against the far wall. “Kneel, up here.”

  I crawled onto the platform and rose onto my knees.

  “Straighten your back. Tall.” She wrapped a heavy, wide metal collar around my neck. It was so wide I couldn’t lower my head. I felt as if I was in one of those cervical collars for sprained necks. It was so hard I couldn’t move my head more than an inch right or left and nowhere up or down.

  She locked a chain to the collar that led to a ring embedded in the wall. I had to stay upright. My knuckles could barely reach the floor.

  “Stand up and turn around. You didn’t want to crawl. Now you can’t. Are you satisfied?”

  “Mistress,” I began, but a sharp slap across the face stopped me. I looked up and barely kept from shaking in fear.

  She glared as I lowered my eyes. With my head held up by the collar, it was hard not to look at her. Finally, she smiled. “I was going to shackle you to the wall, but I think you need to learn self-discipline.” She lowered the chain that hung from the ceiling to the right. “Hold this.” She moved my hand up the chain until I was stretching fully. She did the same with the chain that hung to my left so I was stretched against the wall.

  “If I handcuffed these to you, it would be easy. But it’s not going to be easy, is it?” She stepped back. “If you don’t hold the chains, they’ll swing away, and it’ll be quite a feat to retrieve them. So, you’ll have to hold on tightly. And you wanted to stand, so now you have to.” Her leer frightened me. Finally, she smiled. “I’m going to bed now, but if I come back in and you’ve dropped the chains, I could get very, very angry. You don’t want to make me angry, do you, boy?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “No. I know you don’t.” She turned and walked away, turning the light off as she left.

  I was beginning to like the pain and was getting used to dealing with the boredom. I could stand here i
n bondage and not hate it, but I could not handle the darkness. I took a deep breath. I hated the dark. I wasn’t frightened; it made me angry. Being in the dark reminded me of when I was a child and I’d had the measles. My mom had darkened all the windows in my room and made me wear a blindfold until the fever and rashes disappeared, an old way of protecting a patient from eye damage.

  And I had hated being sick. I could hear the other kids playing in the street, but I couldn’t even get up to watch them. I just had to lie there.

  The anger in me rose now. Hadn’t I told Helen about being alone in the dark? Hadn’t I listed it as one of my limits? I was pretty sure I had. Maybe I hadn’t. If I had, then why had she done this?

  I waited.

  My stomach started to tighten. I thought I might throw up, and panic started to set in. What if I made a mess? What would Helen think? How long would I have to stand here with vomit all over me, the smell and the taste growing stronger minute by minute?

  “Stop it!” I whispered to myself. “You don’t have to throw up. Control. That’s the answer. You can control yourself. That’s what got you into this. That’s what will get you out.” I tried to control my breathing and leaned against the wall. Time passed. Or at least it felt like hours were creeping by.

  “Breathe slowly,” I told myself, “from the diaphragm. Like you’ve been taught in voice class. Slowly. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.”

  That’s it. Controlled breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

  Anger began to replace the panic again. I didn’t have to be here. I could break the contract whenever I wanted. This kind of torture wasn’t part of the agreement. But if I stopped now, would it mean I’d stop it forever? Would I have to leave? Would I never see Helen again? Never feel her touch, never have her smile at me?

  Damn.

  I contemplated dropping the chains. If I loosened my grip enough to kneel…but the chain to my collar wasn’t long enough. I could barely touch my knuckles to the floor. I thought of yelling. Was I going crazy? I thought of dropping everything.