Evocation (The Training of Eileen)

by William Vitelli

  She watched helplessly as he secured her other wrist. When he was satisfied, he knelt at her feet. More rope went around each ankle, binding them to the footrests.

  “Okay, if I can just get you to sign here…” Jen placed a pen in Eileen’s hand and held a form under it. “This is a waiver and consent form. I’ll need you to sign it before we can get started.”

  Eileen started to ask her what the form meant, but a look from Anthony stopped her before the first word was out. You can never say no again, she thought.

  She scrawled her name as best she could with her wrist bound to the chair. Jen smiled. “Okay! Would you like to see the artwork?”

  “Artwork?” she asked.

  “I’d love to!” Anthony said. “We talked about it on the phone, but I’d love to see the final version.”

  Thomas handed a slip of paper to him. He looked at it thoughtfully. “I think that will do quite nicely,” he said.

  “Artwork?” Eileen asked again. Her heart hammered furiously. She dared not think about what might be about to happen to her.

  Anthony held up the paper for her to see. On it, the words “Sex Slave” were written in a graceful, flowing script, one word above the other, the first S twined with the second. Each letter was a deep blue, with a black outline.

  Her heart pounded faster. “What are you going to do?”

  “This is going to be tattooed on the back of your neck, as a reminder of what you are.”

  “You can’t!” Her body quivered in fear. “What will happen if people see it?”

  “Then they’ll know what you are.” Anthony flashed her a predatory grin. “If you keep you hair down, it probably won’t show, though you’ll still know it’s there. There will be times when I make you wear your hair up.”

  “Anthony! N—” The thought flashed through her head once more. You can never say no again. She shuddered and looked away.

  “Yes, my darling little whore?”

  Eileen shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes. He’s really going to do this, she thought. I signed a contract. I told him that my body is his property. She felt herself contract sharply. The butterflies fluttered. Her nipples hardened. “What if…what if my mother comes over?”

  He grinned. “Then I imagine you’ll have to be extra special obedient, so that I don’t make you wear your hair up.”

  “Oh!” Shame curled through her. She looked away.

  Thomas moved behind her. From the corner of her eye, she saw him pull on a pair of gloves. He touched her neck gently, tilting her head forward. “I’m going to tie your hair up out of the way,” he said.

  Eileen nodded mutely. He bound her hair in a neat bun. She flinched when something damp touched her neck. He scrubbed her skin vigorously. Oh, God, he’s really going to do this, she thought, quivering

  Something buzzed loudly behind her. She jumped, startled. “Hold still,” Thomas said. His hand touched the back of her neck gently. She shuddered, feeling goose bumps rise on her arms.

  Another touch on her neck. The buzzing sound started again. She felt a tingling, scraping sensation across her skin that turned rapidly into a painful prickle. She whimpered.

  “See?” Jen said. “I told you it wasn’t that bad.”

  Eileen looked up helplessly at Anthony. He watched her proudly. Some of the fear slipped away under the warmth of his obvious approval.

  Thomas tilted her head down. The prickling, scraping sensation grew stronger, until it felt like her whole head was vibrating. She felt herself slipping into that space she’d first felt up in the attic, the place where she gave herself completely over to what was happening. Her pussy twitched. She scarcely even noticed when Jen disappeared through the curtain.

  The buzzing continued. Time became meaningless. Eileen’s whimpers quieted. Her recently-abused nipples swelled painfully, testifying to her need. The stinging, vibrating buzz of the needle seemed to spread across her skin, down her back, until it seemed like she could feel it inside her cunt. Before long, she was moaning openly.

  Jen slipped back through the curtain carrying a small tray. She stood next to Anthony and watched. “I think she likes it!”

  “She seems to,” he replied. “To be honest, it’s hard to find things she doesn’t like. It makes punishing her a bit tricky sometimes.”

  “Mmm, I can imagine.”

  They watched her writhe under the needle for a while, nipples hard, legs parted. The buzz grew more and more intense, until there was a desperate edge to her moans. “It’s too much!”

  “Finished!” Thomas said. She felt him wiping the back of her neck. “Here, take a look!”

  He handed her a mirror. She looked into it tentatively. He was holding another mirror behind her, reflecting the fresh ink on the back of her neck. She read the words “Sex Slave” permanently imprinted there and shivered. Seeing the words on her skin, still raw from the needle, made her feel helpless, vulnerable. Now everybody will know what you are, the voice said inside her head. Now you can never deny it. She stared at the marks, reading the words over and over, fascinated, unable to look away.

  She reached back to touch the raised flesh, and was stopped by the rope around her wrist. He read her intention and shook his head. “Don’t. You don’t want it to get infected.” When he put down the mirror, Eileen felt relief. Her neck still tingled. He covered the raw skin with Saran wrap. He was saying something, something about how to take care of it, but Eileen couldn’t focus on his words; in her mind, she was still tracing the lines of the tattoo, thinking about what it meant.

  “What lovely nipples!” Jen said. “Have you thought about piercing them, too?”

  Eileen looked up, startled. The shiver of fear returned.

  “Hmm. Maybe, but not right now,” Anthony said. “Her breasts are very sensitive. She can come just from having them stroked. Torturing her nipples is one of the ways I can punish her. I’d hate to not be able to do that to her because they were pierced.”

  “Oh, you can still torture them. At least once they heal. Especially if you pierce them vertically. Show him, Thomas.”

  He stepped around from behind the chair to stand in front of Jen. She lifted his shirt. His chest was tattooed, images of clockwork machinery spreading across his body. Both nipples were pierced, each with a short vertical shaft capped above and below with tiny metal balls.

  Jen gripped his nipples tightly. “You can still do all sorts of things to vertical piercings. Clamps, pulling, whatever you want.” She twisted hard until he cried out. “See?”

  “Hmm,” Anthony said. “And you can do the same thing with women’s nipples too?”

  “Sure. I have rings instead of vertical piercings, which does limit things a bit, but there’s all sorts of stuff you can still do.” She lifted her own shirt.

  Across the top of her breasts spread an image of a tree, branches covered in lush green leaves. The trunk, gnarled and ancient, ran down her stomach until it disappeared at the hem of her skirt. Her large, prominent nipples were both pierced. Metal rings, each a brilliant cobalt blue, passed through them. “You can still pull on them or clamp them, if you’re careful to do it behind the ring,” she said. “Or you can tie a string to the rings and lead her around that way, if you like. My nipples got more sensitive after I pierced them.”

  Anthony looked thoughtful. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind for the future in case she misbehaves.” His little impish grin crept out. “For now I think we’ll stick to the plan.”

  “Okay.” Jen lowered her shirt. “Just the one, then.”

  Eileen felt the fear twist around her heart. Her breathing came fast. “One what? What are you going to do to me?”

  Jen smiled. “I’m going to give you a vertical hood piercing. Like this.” She raised her skirt. Beneath it, she wore a pair of panties in the same electric purple as her bangs. She slid them down. The casual way she exposed herself, as if it were no big deal, made Eileen feel strangely uncomfortable.

  “Here
, see?” Eileen’s gaze moved down. The trunk of the tree extended to just above the woman’s mons, where it forked into two roots. The roots spiraled their way around her legs. On her left leg, a grotesque-looking monster, half serpent and half demon, tore at the root with sharp teeth.

  Jen spread herself open with her fingers. The hood of her clit was pierced, the same way Thomas’ nipples were; a short metal bar, capped with two small silver balls, penetrated her skin. One of the balls sat just below the patch of pubic hair she had shaved into a neat stripe; the other rested a bit below her clitoris.

  Eileen’s eyes widened. Fear squeezed her heart. She had never imagined such a depraved thing. Her mind flashed back to the hotel room in London, the first time Anthony had forced her to use a dildo. Just the idea of having something artificial inside of her had been difficult enough; the notion of something permanently touching her there, right at her sex, made her shudder. She felt herself struggling against the ropes holding her down. “Oh! I don’t…”

  You can never say no again. The thought came back, hard as steel. He owns your body. He can do whatever he wants. You can never say no again.

  “I think that got her attention,” Jen said. She dressed again, smiling. “You’ll like it, I promise. It’s fun. Makes sex a lot more interesting. The trick is to use a short barbell and pierce right at the very top of the hood, so it lands right where it needs to.” She pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. “When I got mine, I had to learn how to sit down all over again. It took a couple of weeks before I could sit without coming. I’ve had this piercing for three years now, and if I don’t pay attention it can still happen. My sister got married a couple of months ago in a park in Cambridge. I sat down a bit too hard on the bench, and, well…” She grinned wider. “It was an unexpected thrill, let’s say.”

  “She is not allowed to have an orgasm without permission unless she’s being used,” Anthony said,

  “Well, then, you might have to punish her quite a bit for the first couple weeks.” Jen sat on a short stool at Eileen’s feet. “Now, let’s see…” She pulled back Eileen’s hood, exposing her clit. “Wow! Her kitty is really purring. Is she always this revved up?”

  “Being tied down helps. Being naked in front of strangers helps too. But mostly, yeah.”

  Eileen blushed. Jen’s finger touched her clit. Pleasure shot through her. She stiffened, gasping.

  “Oh, she’s fun,” Jen said. “I can see why you like her.” She picked up a long, narrow package from the tray and tore it open. Eileen shivered when she saw the needle inside.

  Jen brought a thin plastic tube under her hood. She poised the tip of the needle above it. Eileen felt the sharp tip touch her skin. She trembled in fear, eyes glued to the shining metal.

  “Breathe. Nice and slow,” Jen said. “Look at me.”

  Eileen tore her gaze from the needle. She looked into the woman’s calm brown eyes. “Like that,” Jen said. “Relax. Breathe with me.”

  The tension inside her uncoiled just a little bit. Eileen’s breath steadied. “Yes,” the woman said. “Take a nice deep breath now.”

  Quivering, Eileen obeyed. She held it for a long moment. “Okay,” Jen said, “let it out, nice and slow.”

  Midway through exhaling, Eileen felt a quick pinch, followed by a twisting, tugging sensation. Her heart pounded. She imagined the woman lining up the needle, preparing to shove it through her skin. She caught her breath, waiting for it to happen.

  “All done!” Jen said. “See, that wasn’t so bad, right?”

  Eileen looked down, surprised. Shiny metal gleamed between her legs. “Not as bad as you thought it would be, was it? You’ll have to take care of it until it heals. Should take about a month. Thomas will give you a list of instructions.” Her eyes glittered. “And don’t touch it!” She looked at Anthony. “That goes for you, too. Hands off. Keep it clean. No fluids on it for at least four weeks. No vaginal sex, no oral without a dam.” She wagged his finger at him. “I mean it!”

  He spread his hands, grinning. “Okay! Okay! She has other holes I can use for a while.”

  “Good. If you break your toys, you can’t play with them any more.”

  Eileen flushed again. The sting from the needle had already faded. Her clit throbbed and trembled against the touch of hard metal. Thomas untied the ropes as efficiently as he had tied them. She stood, unsteady. Her fingers brushed the back of her neck, found cling wrap.

  Anthony seized her roughly, pulling her close. His lips met hers, roughly, in a long, passionate kiss. She squirmed for a moment in his grip before she surrendered to it. Her lips parted for his tongue.

  “Good,” he said. “You are my darling, precious sex slave, and now I own you utterly.” He smiled. “I have marked you and pierced you so that you will never forget this day. Let’s go home. How does that saying go? Today is the first day of the rest of your life. I think we should get started.”

  Epilogue

  The days turned into weeks. Weeks ran into months. Outside, the seasons changed. Inside, Eileen changed as well, adapting to her role with ease and grace. Anthony set many tasks before her, each designed to improve some aspect of her skill; she rose to all of them with enthusiasm, proud of her talents at sexual servitude.

  The monthly visits to the doctor’s office became part of the routine. Each month, as the first Saturday approached, Eileen would feel a sense of excitement, mixed with more than a little fear. When the day came, she would find herself watching the clock, trembling as the hands counted down the hours until it was time to leave. Anthony would drive her out to the clinic, where he would leave her with a kiss. Her hands would tremble as she walked to the door. Dr. Moreland would be waiting for her inside, to probe and inspect her as she lay strapped helplessly to the table. On most days, when he was finished, he would give her to the nurse, who would play with her the way a cat plays with a mouse, entertaining herself with Eileen’s body.

  From time to time, Eileen’s thoughts would be drawn to the locked door at the end of the hall on the second floor, and the stairs beyond it. She would feel the attic calling to her, awakening a hunger inside her. Her body would respond, tingling, to the intrusive images of what happened there.

  Subtly, without conscious awareness, her mood would become more playful. When finally the siren song had become strong enough to make her commit some transgression too big to overlook, Anthony’s eyes would flash with fire. He would order her to get her key. Trembling, she would carry it to him. He would lead her up the wide stairs to the second floor. With her heart pounding, she would unlock it and slowly climb the rickety steps to the attic, fear hardening her nipples.

  In the attic, she would give her body up to his chastisement, compliant, writhing in torment and ecstasy. As he punished her, a bulge would grow in his pants, sending shivers of delight down her back. When the punishment was over and she had stopped sobbing, he would lead her back downstairs to the bedroom, the bulge still prominent beneath his slacks. He would make use of her, no matter how sore she was, ignoring her cries while he pleasured himself with her body. The erotic humiliation from her punishments would linger, sometimes for weeks, a warm glow deep inside her that she would savor when he was at work and she passed the afternoon running her hands over her body.

  The first anniversary of their wedding arrived so quickly it caught Eileen by surprise. That day, Anthony presented her with a gift: a plain white card, lacy around the edges, elaborately laser-cut with tiny, precise holes. The holes formed an intricate pointillistic image, a garden gazebo with a woman seated within, brushing her hair. It was exquisitely beautiful and extraordinarily fragile. Eileen blushed, remembering vividly the picture he had painted on her body, and how he had chained her outside on the front porch to display it.

  When she handed it carefully back to him, he mounted it in a frame, its simple wood border accentuating its complexity. She kissed him, hard and deep, her body pressed naked against his. He responded with a sigh. She ran her hands over him,
deliberately seeking out the places she knew would most arouse him. Her lips grazed his neck. “You want me,” she breathed. “Take me.”

  She worked him up, slowly and deliberately, using hands and fingers and lips to stoke the fire inside him until his cock strained and his body trembled. Then she gave herself to him, right there on the living room floor, crying out as he ravished her.

  That weekend, Anthony had more surprises for her. Saturday morning, after he had released her from her chains and she had offered her ass to him, he presented her with a large box topped with a bow.

  “What’s in it?” she asked.

  “Open it and see!”

  Grinning, she pulled open the box. Inside was an elaborate, lacy ballroom gown, white and strapless.

  “What’s this for?”

  “For ballroom dancing, of course! You can’t go ballroom dancing without a ballroom gown.” He took an envelope out of the box. “I’ve got some lessons for us. Here, take a look.”

  Eileen opened the box. “These are for four people!”

  “True. I also flew your parents into town. They’ll be taking the lessons, too. Your mother was positively giddy at the idea.”

  Eileen felt her heart skip a beat. Unconsciously, she reached back to touch the back of her neck. Anthony laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you wear your hair up. Your secret is most likely safe.”

  Eileen blushed. “This is a beautiful gown. It’s not going to end up torn to shreds on the floor after I wear it, is it?”

  Anthony laughed. “Probably not. But you never can tell with me. Now come along, little whore. It’s time for you to bathe me.”