Heart in a Box

by Syra Bond

  ‘We are together again, Syra. I’m so pleased to see you here; and with the box. It’s so good of you to have taken such good care of it.’

  I mumbled something, I don’t know what - I was incoherent.

  She sat down alongside me and put her hands on the box.

  ‘Syra, I’m so glad you have been looking after the box. I told you before about the master whose orders I lived for. Do you remember? He left me a list to carry out even after his death. Well, now I have only one instruction left - it is the very last from my master, Father Dawson...’

  I looked up at her surprised. Suddenly I was filled with a new fear. The very mention of his name sent a surge of raw panic running through my veins. Father Dawson! Miranda’s master!

  ‘Ah, I see you are excited to hear his name. Yes, his final instruction compels me like no other. Shall I tell you what it is, Syra? Of course. “Miranda, my heart must remain with you all”. That’s what it said - nothing else - but I knew exactly what he meant. And now, thanks to you, Syra, I can fulfil my last obligation.’

  She lifted the box from my knees. I couldn’t stop myself from holding onto it, protecting it. She took each one of my hands one by one and removed them. My reactive resistance had passed, now I felt like a helpless puppet.

  ‘Syra, you have done your duty now. You must let go. Now, at last, I have the organ which is both our heart and at our heart. This is the heart of our founder, the one who discovered the secret that lay within your blood, the one who brought you to us and gave us new life. And it is the heart of the one who sacrificed himself for us, giving his own life so that the flock should survive. And it is the heart which will be an endless supply of nourishment for the flock. It will remain forever the centre of their hopes and wishes. And Syra, you must return also. You must come with me back to the flock. They are waiting for the heart and for you. Can you imagine their joy, Syra?’

  She shook her head dreamily, as if at last all her wishes had been granted.

  I was dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know what to say.

  I stared at her as she stood up. She turned to Anicka.

  ‘Anicka, go and fetch the others. And make sure that the replacement for Sparky doesn’t wander off. She’s so absentminded.’

  The sound of Sparky’s name sent a shiver of anxiety and regret through me.

  Anicka nodded, turned and set off on her mission. She was dressed exactly the same as when I had first seen her with Sparky outside Club Lichvář - pink tights, a black tight vest top and a spiky hemmed mesh skirt with glittering stars hanging from the spikes. Her hair was drawn up through a tightly pulled band into a vertical plume on top of her head; its bright red ends showered down like a storm of crimson rain. She bobbed across the concourse towards the female restrooms. Suddenly, without stopping, she leant to the side and swept up a briefcase momentarily untended by its owner. She hopped and skipped away, filled with excitement and, like a thieving jackdaw, clutching her latest prize in her long red talons.

  Miranda turned back to me.

  ‘These girls! But it’s a good business, and the one that supports our work at Pacific Heights. Now that Pastor Wick is gone perhaps you might want to get more involved? His plan for you was a bad one anyway, Syra. How could he think of keeping you unconscious for the rest of your life? How do you see yourself as a slave trader?’

  I couldn’t answer.

  She nodded to me to follow. I thought again of the flock, of Father Dawson. I wondered what my life would be like if I returned with Miranda - a source of nourishment for the flock, trafficking slaves, and goodness knows what else! My blood ran cold. I tried to clear my mind. I concentrated on two things: I knew the box was empty, and I knew I didn’t intend to go with Miranda. They were the only two things I should think about - the only two things I should act on.

  I jumped up and barged past Miranda.

  ‘Here, you can keep the box!’ I shouted as I ran as fast as I could across the concourse and out of the airport.

  I jumped into a taxi and told the driver to go to Hlavné Námestie square. I thought we could work out something about the fare when we got there.

  I sat back on the warm plastic seat. I breathed in deeply. I was free! Suddenly the world felt fresh. I listened to the driver’s unintelligible conversation and watched him adjust his mirror so that he could see my bare knees. I opened them slightly and drew up the hem of my dress. I pulled my panties off and pulled up my dress so that my naked cunt was completely exposed. The pink slit at its centre glistened with moisture. I desperately wanted it filled. Yes, I desperately wanted a cock inside it, but not before I had felt the sting of punishment across my buttocks, the tightness of bonds around my ankles and wrists, and the confinement and lack of control that came with being completely under the instructions of another. A warm rush of anticipation and excitement flooded through me. I reached over the driver’s seat and dropped my panties onto his lap. Yes, I’m sure we can work out something about the fare.

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