The door opened on silent hinges and Gina let out a scream, her chains jangling against the coffee pot, knocking the little lid off. "Well, good morning, Gina. I see you've found your breakfast. Excuse me, I didn't mean to startle you." The tall dark man walked in, smiling at Gina, who now sat huddled, her knees drawn up in an effort to hide her naked body.
"I was very rude last night, and I failed to introduce myself. My name is Frank." He waited, as if expecting her to respond with a 'how do you do' or some other common formality. She simply stared at him, her large eyes widened by fear.
Frank seemed to barely notice that she was naked and in chains. It was as if they were at a tea party. He knelt near the tray and said solicitously, "Let me help you with that. Do you take sugar? Cream?" When Gina didn't answer his tone sharpened somewhat, "Cat got your tongue? Answer when I speak to you. Remember your place." This was no tea party.
Gina's voice cracked as she tried to answer. She began again, and managed, "Both, please." Deftly Frank added the sugar and cream, still kneeling in an easy balance. He stirred the coffee and handed her the cup. She didn't dare refuse him. The coffee, like the muffin, was delicious, freshly brewed and flavorful. She sipped it gratefully, trying to keep her hands from trembling.
Because he seemed so civil, almost pleasant, she dared to say, "Look, my dad has money. If you want money, I promise I can get it for you. The church–"
He cut her off, laughing. "You ridiculous little girl! We don't want money! We have more than we need, don't you worry. We want you! I've already told you, you're our new toy! I know you aren't used to the idea yet, but this is your life now! There is no going back. Ever. Forget Dwayne, forget Mommy and Daddy. Gordon and I are your world now. Period. The sooner you get used to that, the better off you'll be."
"You won't get away with it! God will punish you!" Gina blurted this out, her voice pitched high.
Frank laughed again. "Well, that'll be our problem, not yours, wouldn't you agree?"
"My parents will find you. You'll go to jail–"
"Enough," his tone sharpened, and his eyes narrowed. "If they find us, we haven't done our jobs, and deserve to be found. Meanwhile, you belong to us. We've stolen you, if you like. You are our possession, to be used as we see fit. Now hush or I'll lose my temper. You wouldn't want that."
Frank crouched down next to Gina, who was hunched up near the top of her mattress. He reached out and touched the still damp fabric. "I see you had a little, uh, accident here," Frank nodded toward her damp bed. "Gordon does seem to have that effect on people. Let's get you cleaned up. He doesn't like his toys to be dirty. Oh no, we mustn't upset Gordon. That wouldn't do at all." Frank spoke in a light voice, as if he were talking about the weather or someone's grandmother. Just the mention of Gordon's name brought back his stern closed face, the slate gray eyes looking through her as if she didn't exist, or worse, that her existence was an affront to him.
The coffee had turned to mud in her mouth. Gina set the cup down and tried to cover herself again, shivering. "Had enough? That's all right. I won't take your loss of appetite personally, though I made those muffins just for you. Looks like you could lose a few pounds anyway, am I right, Gina?" Gina blushed crimson, outraged and humiliated that he considered her fat and had said so. Dwayne liked her the way she was; he assured her it was feminine and pleasing. She had believed him; her pleasure in sweets also persuading her that nothing need change.
"Well, not to worry. We'll make sure you get your exercise. But first we better get you cleaned up! Gordon is very fussy about hygiene. He's going to want you fresh and clean for his games. First I'm going to take off your cuffs, but don't even think about doing something stupid like trying to get away. Gordon and I are both very strong, and we live miles and miles away from anywhere." As he spoke, Frank used a little key he removed from a chain around his neck. Gina rubbed her wrists as Frank held out his hand to her. "Up you get!" A very reluctant Gina took the offered hand, not daring to refuse.
He led her from the mirrored room, down a hallway to a bathroom. The room was colder than the one she had been confined in. Gina shivered, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. Frank pointed to the toilet. "Need to go?" Gina shook her head, though she did. There was no way she was going to pee in front of this man.
"Suit yourself, but I'd better warn you, if you piss in your bed again, you're going to be punished. If you want to hold it in, make sure you do it more effectively than last time!" He grinned as he watched Gina blush and duck her head. He led her to the shower, and turned on the water.
"Cold shower, I'm afraid. You'll have to earn a hot one. And you've certainly done nothing yet to earn that!" Frank pushed Gina until she stepped into the icy spray of water. She gasped and tried to back out.
"Stay in, Gina. Stay in or I'll make sure you do." The threat was vague, but enough for the poor girl to do as she was told. She stood miserably under the spray. Frank took the soap and began to rub her body with it, lathering it up. "Hands behind your head, and feet apart," he commanded. Gina assumed the required position, her teeth chattering from cold, her face burning with shame.
Frank lathered her efficiently, only lingering a moment over her pussy and nipples. He even washed her hair for her, and then had her rinse. He took her hand, helping her out of the tub and then roughly but efficiently dried her with a large soft towel. Her thick dark hair hung wetly down her back as he led her back to her mirrored prison.
It was warmer in there, and though Gina was still shivering from the cold shower, she was grateful for that small favor. The mattress was gone, leaving only the bare room, with several large and ominous looking hooks placed strategically on the floor and in the ceiling. Everywhere Gina saw her own naked form, reflected ad infinitum in the mirrored walls. She looked down, embarrassed anew.
Frank left her for a moment, and returned with a large box he set noisily on the floor. "Kneel," he commanded, pointing at his feet. Gina knelt, curling up as if she could disappear. "Hands out in front of you, forehead touching the floor, ass up high." As Frank spoke, he pulled and pushed Gina into the desired position, and then deftly attached leather cuffs to her wrists and ankles, and a large belt around her waist. He took chains designed for the purpose, and secured her at the waist, wrists and ankles to the hooks in the floor so that she was bound into position, unable to move. And there he left her.
***
Minutes passed that seemed like hours. Gina couldn't stop trembling. He hadn't killed her; that was something. She was still alive, and must thank God for that. This was a trial for her to endure. She didn't know why, but she knew she had to be strong and rely on her faith. It was hard to keep this in mind as she knelt, her head touching the cold wooden floor, her hands stretched out in front her, chained and held in place by the large hook embedded in the planks.
Her body shook and she couldn't seem to control it. She knew she must cut a ridiculous picture, her naked, rather large body displayed, ass forced up, legs splayed so that her bare sex was exposed. And she still had to pee. Tears seeped out of her eyes, tickling her nose, which had begun to run. Her legs were aching, tucked under her in this unaccustomed pose.
The sound of a key turning in the lock caused all thoughts of physical discomfort to fly from her head. Only the trembling was constant. The door opened slowly and Gordon came in, silent on bare feet. This time he was dressed in black jeans and no shirt. He carried something, a stick, in his hands. He set it down behind the prostrate woman and knelt near her.
"Good morning, cunt." His voice lacked the warmth, the humor, that Frank's had. The British tones were clipped and succinct. The word shocked Gina, causing her to blush, the heat flaming up her cheeks. A hand on her hair pulled up, hard. Gina gasped in pain.
"Speak when spoken to, cunt," he said calmly. "When I say good morning, cunt, you will answer, 'Good morning, master. I am your slave cunt.' Do you understand?" He spoke as if he were teaching her a simple phrase in a foreign language. He spoke slowly
, clearly, with little inflection. Gordon pulled her hair harder, forcing her head up and back. Gina's eyes were squeezed shut and she began to whimper. "Now we'll try again, shall we?" he said, his voice low.
"Please," she began to beg. "Please, please don't this. Please–" He slapped her hard and let go of her hair.
"You are very stupid, aren't you, Gina? You can't follow the simplest command. Luckily, I have plenty of time. You certainly aren't going anywhere. So we'll start again. But first, a little punishment to help you remember to obey. I'm going to mark you with my favorite cane. It's a very effective little instrument favored in Thailand."
Gordon took the thin supple rod from the floor behind Gina. He brought it around to her face. "Open your eyes, cunt. This little cane may not look like much, but it will teach you your manners. Each time I use it on you, I will expect you to kiss it – a thank you for being taught a lesson you will no doubt richly deserve. You may choose this time – a kiss before, or a kiss after. Which is it to be, cunt?"
Gina was crying in earnest now, her eyes and nose streaming. Gordon seemed entirely unconcerned. "I'll take your continued refusal to answer as meaning you'll kiss it after it kisses you." His mouth was a tight smile; his eyes glittered hard and bright. Going behind the naked young women, he bent and brought the thin cane down, hard, against her virgin flesh.
Gina yowled, the pain like a searing line of fire across her ass. Gordon watched the welt rise, turning from a fine white line to fiery red. Satisfied, he walked around the prostrate, bound girl and held the rod in front of her face. Her will broken, Gina forced her lips into a pucker and kissed the cane. Gordon nodded, looking satisfied. "Now. Good morning, cunt."
"G-good morning, um, master." She hiccupped and cried, "What else? God, I can't remember, please don't hurt me again!"
"'Good morning, master. I am your slave cunt.'"
"Good morning, master. I am your slave…" Her voice trailed to a whisper.
"I can't hear you, cunt. Say it again. Louder. If I can't hear it, I'll whip you again."
"Oh, please, oh no!" She sniffled loudly and began again, "Good morning, master. I am your slave c-cunt." The word actually hurt to say; she felt it stick in her throat like broken glass.
"Better. We'll work on it." He patted her wet head. "How ridiculous that words should embarrass you even more than your absurd position there on the ground. Your cunt is exposed. Your nasty hairy little twat cunt is right there. I'm looking at it, cunt. It's probably dry as a bone. Is it, Gina? Is your cunt dry as a bone? Tell me your cunt is dry as a bone, cunt."
A small sob. Gordon whooshed the cane through the air and she panted, "I don't know! Please, I don't know! I don't know what you want!" She screamed as bamboo hit flesh.
Ignoring her whimpering, Gordon said, "You don't know. Fair enough. I'll tell you." Turning, he straddled Gina's back, so that he was facing her ass. She gasped under his weight. Reaching under her, he pressed his hard finger into her pussy. Gina cried and tried to move away, but she was held fast in her chains.
"As I suspected. Dry. Nervous little Nellie. That's what we should call you. I'm going to teach you a lot of things, girl. One of them is that it's rude to be dry in front of your master. But since you are a new student, we will let it pass. Frank will teach you how to be wet. Much more his department. I–" He paused for effect. "–will make sure the lesson is learned." He stood up, and Gina sighed with relief as his weight was lifted from her. She longed to move; to close her legs, to escape.
"You will have your first lesson today. I am going to teach you about pain. You probably think you can't tolerate very much. I'm going to teach you that you can. But first Frank is going to teach you about pleasure." Without another word or glance at Gina, Gordon was gone. Praise God, she thought.
Several minutes later, though it felt like hours, Gina heard, "Hello, dear one. Gordon was not impressed, I'm afraid." Frank came in, smiling, and Gina realized with a small shock she was actually glad to see him, compared to Gordon at any rate. He seemed to be bustling about, but after a few minutes, amazingly, he began unlocking her chains! She didn't dare look around, but she felt him releasing the lock that held her leg chains in place. Then he came around and released her wrists. Gina still didn't dare to move. The burning marks from the cane reminded her to be still. Frank gently rolled her over, and Gina realized her arms and legs were asleep.
He had rolled her onto a soft pallet of cotton bedding he had placed next to her. She lay inert as he gently massaged her legs and arms, bringing the blood back with tingling but welcome relief. "Now Gina, listen carefully. I'm going to explain some things to you. Some things that might make it easier for you to get along here. Gordon says I don't need to explain anything to the toys, but I find it makes for an easier transition.
"First, as you may have gathered, Gordon is the boss here. I don't work for him exactly. You might say I belong to him. Much as you do, though you don't know it yet. I'm his boy; you're his toy." Frank grinned, his eyes twinkling, a faint flush on his cheeks. Gina stared at him uncomprehendingly.
"He's gay, stupid," Frank said, exasperated. Gina looked horrified, her Christian sensibilities offended anew. "Oh stop," Frank said, irritated. "Don't worry, I like girls. I just happen to like boys too, and Frank is quite exciting, once you understand how he operates. You could really have a lot of fun, Gina, if you'd just drop the whole outraged religious kick.
"But anyway, here's the thing. Gordon likes boys, and he likes them without hair. He likes girls too, to play with, just not as lovers. One reason we picked you is your tits aren't too big. He can't stand big old saggy boobs getting in the way of everything. You are kind of heavy, but he likes a big ass, and we see lots of potential in you, once we get you into shape. But the first thing we have to do is get all this hair off you. You can keep the hair on your head, he likes to use it when he's torturing you." A small gasp escaped from Gina's open mouth and she bit her lips.
"But the rest of it has to go. I'm going to bring you a snack, and then we'll go to the bathroom. I'm going to use warm water, only because it'll give us a closer shave. Don't think you've earned hot water yet, because you haven't. Now, you just relax a little and I'll be back in a flash. Your diet starts today."
He whirled out of the room, humming a tune as if he had no care in the world. He had kidnapped and was planning on keeping a woman captive, and he was singing! She was almost more frightened by his breezy confiding ways; his offhand manner was chilling, given the circumstances. At least Gordon played the part of villain as she would expect. What was she to make of Frank?
Gina closed her eyes, and images of her parents, who must be worried sick over her absence, and of Dwayne, her darling Dwayne, made the tears flow again. She wiped her nose across the back of her hand and then curled into a fetal position, her eyes tightly closed. A few minutes later Frank returned with a bowl of broth and some carrot sticks. Gina drank the hot liquid gratefully, and munched on the sticks. When she was done, she felt almost as hungry as before. "Had enough?" Frank smiled at her.
"Well, to tell you the truth," Gina began, but Frank put his finger to her lips.
"Not another word, Gina. You're on a diet now. You'll thank me later, believe me. You have a gorgeous body hiding inside that chubby exterior." Gina flushed angrily, but Frank went on. "I know what will distract you from your hunger. We'll go shave all that nasty girl hair off you and make you smooth as a baby. We'll be doing it every morning as part of your toilette," he said, giving the word its French pronunciation.
He held his hand out and Gina had no choice but to take it. He led her again out the door of her prison and along to the bathroom. This time when he pointed to the toilet, she sat, knowing if she did not, she would definitely have another accident.
Frank watched her, his face amused, as she blushed a hot red and was unable for a moment to urinate. But need overcame modesty and soon a steady hot stream splashed into the toilet, to Gina's great embarrassment and relief. Frank ha
d her kneel on the bath mat while he ran the warm water into the tub. When he added something from a pretty glass bottle, the room filled with a lovely scent of sandalwood and a hint of lavender.
"Get in," he instructed, and she did. What a lovely feeling, sinking into the hot sweetly scented water. Her bottom hurt from the cane beating. The hot water soothed her and she relaxed slightly, actually allowing a little sigh of pleasure to escape. Frank seemed pleased. He began gently to soap her body, and then, using a small china pitcher, he rinsed her with the bath water.
Taking a small vial he said, "This is a special oil, very nice for shaving. It'll keep your skin baby soft. You really do have lovely skin, Gina. Did you know that?" Gina didn't know it. She was not at all used to compliments, but all the same, in some secret part of her, she was pleased by the remark.
"Now stay very still, and do as you're told, and things will go great. We don't want any nicks whatsoever, so make sure you obey me, do you understand? The only marks Gordon will want to see are the ones he makes on you himself." Gina shivered at his remark, and then her eyes grew round as he brought out a large and heavy looking old fashioned razor. He had her raise first one leg and then the other. His strokes were sure and smooth, and in no time he was done. Next her underarms, which caused a bit more trouble, because Gina was ticklish, and also mortified that he should be touching her so intimately. But she withstood it, and soon he was done.
"Now out of the bath with you. I want to shave your pussy while you sit on the counter. It's too hard to do in the tub."
"Oh, God. Please don't do that. I couldn't stand it. I'm begging you..." He cut her off gently.
"Now, now, Gina. You know the rules. Our master Gordon doesn't like hair. Especially nasty hairy little twats, as he calls them. It isn't up to me and it certainly isn't up to you. Cooperate or I'll have to call Gordon in to do it, and believe me, he doesn't mind a bit of blood at all."
The Toy Page 2
