Unmasked

by Shannon Youngblood

  I couldn’t think about all of that right now. My job was to get Phoenix trained to be the perfect slave. In my home I could be far more lenient with her, but in public, and at the community center, she had to be what was expected or she would be punished and there would be nothing I could do about it. In all of my memory, I could only recall once a slave being taken from her Master for her lack of obedience, and it didn’t end well for her.

  I flopped down in the armchair willing my stiff cock to go limp, but her body still burned into mine even though she had been gone over ten minutes. Not only was I going to have to train her, I was going to have to keep myself in check. If every time I saw her, my cock stood at attention, we’d both be in trouble. She’d be the perfect cum whore, but a terrible slave.

  The image of her on her knees, my collar around her neck with my cum dripping from her mouth did nothing to cool the raging hard-on and in a moment of weakness, I unzipped my pants and pulled out my throbbing cock. It had been weeks since I had stroked myself off, and even longer since I had fucked a woman. I didn’t really have the urge myself, although the monster inside disagreed. If I let it, it would come out of hiding and fuck any cunt that was in the vicinity, but I worked hard to keep that part of me locked away from the world.

  Up and down I pumped my shaft, inching closer to release, the image of Phoenix face down on the bed, presenting her holes to me like a good and proper slut. I wanted her body, and deep down I knew, I wanted her mind just as much. Even if I believed in the ways and teachings of The Faith, I knew in my heart, that I wanted to earn the submission of my slave, not just take it.

  I leaned back raising my shirt and grunting as one final stroke was enough to undo me and send my cum flying up my stomach. Warm, sticky, white semen coated my clean shaven chest as I struggled to catch my breath. The next time I came, it wouldn’t be on myself or into a towel. The next time I came, it would be inside Phoenix’s mouth, and that was a promise I had no intention of breaking.

  I stayed locked up in the library until dinner was called. I didn’t want to see Phoenix. Even though I had relieved myself enough to get some work done, the thought of her bent over my desk was enough to keep me on edge. Thankfully, Mildred had been the one to call me for dinner, and as much as I respected Mildred, she didn’t bring out the sexual desires in me the way Phoenix did.

  While my father had been alive, the slaves were to stand by the side of the table in case anyone needed anything. Since I was the only non-slave in attendance, I advised Mildred to set a place for everyone. I had no desire to eat while they all watched me.

  As soon as I entered the dining room, I knew Mildred had spoken with Phoenix about proper table manners as a slave. All three of them stood behind their chairs waiting for me to be seated and to invite them to sit with me. Once we were all in place, the food was passed around to everyone, starting with me.

  “This smells delicious, Mildred.”

  “Thank you, Master Zander,” she dipped her head, “But the recipe actually came from Phoenix.”

  I looked up at her, my fork suspended in midair towards my mouth. She blushed, and I felt my pants get a little bit tighter again.

  “Explain,” I simply said, putting the food into my mouth, the taste just as scrumptious as the smell.

  She shrugged. “I always liked to cook and I was pretty good at it in school, so I just watched a lot of video’s and taught myself.”

  “It’s very good,” I complimented. “There might be hope for you yet.”

  I watched as she grabbed her own fork and placed a small bite of food onto the end.

  “What do you say, Phoenix?” Mildred scolded.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, clearly embarrassed by all the attention.

  “Thank you, what?”

  The blush on her face grew as she had finally come face to face with calling me something that had been stuck on her tongue since the moment we had met.

  “Thank you, Master Zander,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “That’s better.” Mildred toted. Looking over at me, I gave her a small smile.

  “She’ll learn,” I said, just loud enough for Mildred to hear. “She’ll learn.

  When dinner was finished, I excused myself from the table and let the women clean up the meal. Never in my life had I picked up a dish to be washed. I considered turning back to help, but I knew my presence would both surprise Mildred and confuse Phoenix. The old woman was one of the best slaves I had met, and I knew she would teach my little bird well.

  After thirty minutes in which I got little work done, I decided I could use a break from the mundane office life, and fetch myself a drink, but before I could finish pouring, a knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in.”

  I watched as my black haired beauty stepped inside.

  “How can I help you, little bird?” I asked, enjoying the way my nickname made her slightly uncomfortable.

  “I didn’t sleep last night, and Mildred thought it would be appropriate to ask permission to call it an early night.”

  I looked at her. She was staring at her feet, and toeing the ground. Asking permission seemingly made her uncomfortable, but it was something she was going to need to get used to. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head.

  “You had a long day yesterday Phoenix, and if what you say is true and you truly didn’t get any sleep last night, you must be exhausted. I’ll tell you what. Do you remember the bag I had earlier? The one in which I told you I would show you the contents if you were good?”

  She nodded at me, and before I could correct her, she answered, “Yes. I remember.”

  I waited to see if she would catch on to her faux pas.

  She sighed. “Yes, I remember, Master Zander.”

  “Good Girl. Now, if you do me one small favor, let’s call it, your first lesson with me, I will give you the contents right here and now.”

  It didn’t take very long for her to acquiesce, and I imagined it had everything to do with her fatigue, and not at all for me, but a promise was a promise.

  “Good girl, little bird. I would like you to come over with me to the couch and while I sit and drink the rest of my brandy, I would like you to kneel at my feet, quietly. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Yes, Master Zander,” she said, walking over to me and then following me to the couch.

  “Now you are going to do your kneeling in the traditional kneel pose. Keep your knees together, sit on your heels and place your hands flat on your thighs. Understand?”

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  “Yes, what, Phoenix?”

  “Yes, Master Zander,” she corrected herself.

  I sat down and waited for her to get in position before I took my first sip. I wouldn’t make her kneel for long, as her exhaustion radiated throughout her entire body, and it was obvious if she sat there for too long, she would probably nod off.

  “You look beautiful kneeling for me, little bird,” I commented, rubbing the back of my hand down her cheek. “You truly were made to submit to me.”

  “Thank you, Master,”

  As much as I wanted to keep her there, by my side, I knew I could never be that harsh. She had done well, and she hadn’t complained at all. Kneeling was hard on the knees as it was, but coupled with her lack of sleep, I didn’t imagine she was very comfortable. I stood, walking in front of her and held out my hand.

  She took it, and made her way to her feet. As soon as I was certain she was not going to fall, I let go of her hand and retrieved the bag from behind my desk.

  “I retrieved this for you, and by the shape it’s in, it seems to be something you love,” I said pulling the phoenix stuffed animal out and holding it in front of me.

  I didn’t know what I had expected from her, but when she broke down in tears in front of me, I knew it wasn’t that.

  “T-thank y-you,M-master Zander,” she sniffled, throwing herself into my arms for a hug.

  I wrapped my arms around her and
let her cry, getting out all of the emotions of the past two days. When she was finished, I held her out in front of me and handed her the stuffy.

  “Thank you for being a good girl today, Phoenix. You did very well. Now go get some rest.”

  Without another word, I watched as she clung to her phoenix for dear life and exited my study. I was already far past buzzed with my last drink, but decided to pour myself one more.

  Phoenix was going to be a handful, of this I knew, but I had a sneaky suspicion that she was going to make me a wonderful slave. My insides were warm at the thought but my brain threw up the red flags I had been trying to ignore. What would happen to her when I got my inheritance and I vanished into the night? Where would she end up, and with whom?

  I couldn’t think about that now. The thought of her kneeling for anyone else was enough to set me off. We needed to get her through her tasks so I could grab my inheritance. I just hoped she didn’t grab my heart in the process.

  Chapter 14

  Phoenix

  It had been almost two weeks since I had kneeled for Zander in his library, and two weeks since he had given me something I cherished more than anything in the world. My stuffed phoenix was something I had had since the day I was born. The first picture of me with it, I was only a few hours hold. I was shiny and new, and so was the stuffed toy. Every year a new picture would show me bigger and older, the phoenix, dirtier and smaller. My mom always tried to get rid of it, but I wouldn’t let her. It was the single most important and happy thing left from my childhood and I intended on keeping it for as long as I could.

  I didn’t think Zander realized the gesture he had made by getting my childhood toy for me. I still had no desire to be a slave, or to be his slave, but just that one act of kindness made my outlook on him change drastically. He wasn’t just some guy with deep pockets who could buy any girl he wanted. He had a heart, even if he didn’t want others to know. There was still something dark residing inside of him, but I hadn’t seen it in days.

  Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen Zander much at all the few weeks. I saw him every night when he had me kneel for him, which I actually sort of enjoyed, but other than that, he seemed to be always busy. When I asked Mildred about it, she told me in no uncertain terms to mind my business. What he did was his business and if he deemed it necessary to tell me, he would.

  I spent most of my days learning how to run a household from Mildred, or learning proper manners, and responses to a Masters questions from Gwen. At fourteen, she was far more experienced than I could ever hope to be.

  Gwen had quickly become my best friend in a short amount of time. She told me stories, both good and bad, of things that happened in the community center, and I told her stories about my childhood and being raised by a Master, and not knowing it. Sometimes I saw the sadness in her eyes when I spoke of how good my growing up years were. I tried to stop, but she insisted I continue.

  I asked her, almost every day if she had heard of the type of tasks I might have for my final two, but she always had the same negative answer. She didn’t know. As much as the thought of what was around the corner frightened me, I knew I just wanted to get them over with.

  “Phoenix!” Gwen called out to me as I stepped into the backyard to soak up a little sun. “The mail arrived, and there is a letter from The Faith.”

  I snatched it from her hand and thanked her. It wasn’t addressed to me so I couldn’t open it, but maybe I could see what was inside anyways.

  I held it up to the sun and tried to decipher what was inside.

  “Can you read it?” She asked, in as much anticipation as I felt.

  “No, I only see Zander’s name.”

  “Try at a different angle,” she coaxed.

  I moved around both my body and the envelope, trying to see anything inside, but it was useless. I couldn’t see a damn thing.

  “Just what in the fuck do you think you’re doing?” An angry voice came from the backdoor.

  My mind raced, trying to come up with any plausible reason I would be holding up mail addressed to him.

  “I- ummm,” I stammered, my mind drawing a blank.

  “Don’t bother trying to come up with a lie, girl,” he barked. “I know what you are trying to do.”

  I handed him the letter and dropped my head.

  “I’m sorry, Master Zander.”

  “Not yet, little bird, but you will be. Upstairs. NOW!” He screamed, pointing at the backdoor.

  I knew where he wanted me to go, but I didn’t want to. The first day Mildred had shown me around the house, she had opened the door to Zanders dungeon. All sorts of terrifying things hung from the walls and I didn’t know what a single one of them were.

  I drug my feet getting up the stairs, and by the sounds of the huffing and puffing from behind me, Zander was getting even more irritated. Before I could add on to my punishment, I picked up the pace. When we got to the outside of the door, I looked at him and did the only thing that felt right. I got down on my knees.

  “I’m sorry, Master. I really am. Please don’t punish me,” I cried.

  It took him a moment to answer in which time I prayed he would be lenient.

  “I know you are little bird, and I know why you did what you did, but that doesn’t excuse your serious lack of judgment. You will be punished. Please stand.”

  I took a deep breath and stood in front of him, keeping my eyes trained on the ground. I felt bad for betraying his trust and the knowledge of that shocked me a little.

  “Look at me, girl,” he commanded. “What happens in this room, stays in this room. After you’ve been punished, we will move on and that will be the end of it. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Master Zander,” I said, holding my head up. I had messed up, and now I was going to pay the consequences.

  “Good girl. Now go in, remove your clothes, fold them neatly and kneel in the middle of the room in your kneeling pose.”

  I walked into the room and quickly did as he commanded. Even after being naked on stage for hundreds of people to see, I was still embarrassed to remove my dress and panties in front of Zander’s watchful eye. Once they were off, I folded them and placed them on the bed and walked to the center of the room to get into position.

  For a while, there was nothing. No sound but that of my breathing, and while I waited for Zander to make a move, I concentrated on my heart beats and the pace of my breath as he had shown me earlier in the week.

  “Good girl,” his voice finally rang out. “It took you a few minutes, but what I have taught you is finally sinking in.”

  I knew better than to respond to him. When I was kneeling, I was to be silent unless asked a direct question. Without moving, I followed Zander as he circled me once, twice, and a third time, before coming to a stop right in front of me.

  “Today you are being punished for invading Master’s privacy. Is that an obedient thing to do, slave?” He asked.

  “No, Master.”

  “And are you going to ever do that again?”

  “No, Master.”

  “Good girl, now raise your arms up for me.”

  I did as he asked, and immediately felt the cool metal of handcuffs around my wrist.

  “Now, I want you to lay down on the ground on your chest, extending your arms as far as they will go, but stay on your knees with your ass up in the air.”

  As gently as I could I put my palms down in front of me on the ground and slid forward. My nipples touched the cool wooden floor beneath me, and I knew I was stretched out as far as I could without moving my knees. I felt a clip attach to the cuffs and I looked up.

  “You won’t be going anywhere during this, little bird. Now put your head down between your arms.”

  I did as he demanded, immediately feeling both my hot breath ricocheting back at me from the ground, and Zanders eyes on my backside.

  “Since this is your first offense, I will let you choose the punishment. This isn’t going to be the norm, but for t
oday, I’m feeling generous. Would you prefer fifty hits from a lighter implement that won’t hurt as much, or fifteen hits from something that will hurt much more? You have sixty seconds to decide or I will decide for you.”

  Fifty hits sounded like a lot, even if it was something that wouldn’t hurt as much. I had done sixty down in the kitchen when I had first arrived and I knew it was a lot. But could I handle fifteen from something that did? I made my decision and hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

  “Fifteen, Master,” I called out.

  “Brave choice, girl. I applaud your tenacity. This is going to hurt, but I know you will learn a valuable lesson. Are you ready?”

  I gulped and took a deep breath. “I’m ready, Master.”

  “Good let’s begin. Do you remember what you said in the kitchen on your first night here? I want you to do the same.”

  Before I could answer, the first blow hit the sensitive flesh of my ass.

  “ONE!” I screamed, my eyes instantly watering at the sting that reverberated through my entire body, it’s center point, my right ass cheek.

  “Say it slave!” Zander said through gritted teeth, holding back the next hit.

  “Thank you, Master. May I please have another?”

  “Yes you may.”

  Hit after excruciating hit, I counted my number as the tears fell and I asked for more. When I got to fourteen, I could feel liquid dripping down my legs, and I knew he had drawn blood.

  “Fourteen,” I whimpered. “Thank you, Master. May I please have another?”

  “Last one, slave, let’s make it count.”

  His words sounded far off and they didn’t sound like him anymore. Instead of the silky, albeit husky voice I was used to, Zander sounded possessed and enraged.

  The last strike brought stars to my eyes, and I couldn’t keep myself up on my knees anymore. I sunk to the ground in a pile of despair, pain and tears.

  “Not so fast, girl,” he growled.

  “Fifteen. Thank you Master. May I please have another?”

  I prayed he would say no.

  Instead of an answer, he remained silent. The only sound was his footfall as he came to stand in front of me. I heard the buckle of his belt, and then the shuffle of his pants and he pulled them to the ground.