by Harper Vonna
Blocking out his words, she stared at the clear, beautiful water.
“One more thing. I want a repeat of what you called me a short while ago.”
Fuck you. “Master,” she ground out.
He shook his head, dipped his fingers in the water, and splashed her face with it. Fear that he’d continue to waste the precious liquid nearly had her begging, but she’d never done that in her life. She refused to start now.
Giving her a look that made her wonder if he felt sorry for her, he held the glass to her lips and slowly tilted it. Liquid filled her mouth and trickled down her throat. She’d never tasted anything so good. All too soon she’d drunk it all. Fighting the urge to lick the last drops off her lips so he’d know how desperate she was, she watched as he placed the empty glass on the bottom stair and planted himself in front of the gym bag.
He took what seemed like forever digging through the bag’s contents. Despite her fury at his obvious ploy, her breath caught when he held up what he’d been after.
A leather riding crop. Maybe two feet long, thin, flexible with a flat paddle at the end.
“You know what this is, don’t you?” he asked.
Her mind in turmoil, she nodded.
“Why’s that?”
He was going to hit her with it. Certainly he didn’t care why she recognized it.
“Answer me!” He slapped the air with the lethal object.
Help me! Someone, please. “I, ah, a friend and I attended several horse races.”
“And that friend was a man. What did he say when you told him you were opposed to jockeys using riding crops on their mounts?”
Oh God, how did he know that? Had he been stalking her all this time? Could Ed have anything—no! “He, ah, he laughed and told me to enjoy the race.”
“Which you did because this friend of yours gave you plenty of money to bet with.”
She had to pull her mind back together. Stay a mental step ahead of him. “You were there?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He lightly slapped his hand with the crop. “Never thought you’d see one of these up close did you? And for the record, that’s a rhetorical question. I don’t really give a damn about the answer. The point I’m about to make is that today’s lesson isn’t about me encouraging you to run. In fact at this point the reason for what I’m about to do is immaterial. I can and I will, end of discussion.”
Not so long ago she’d believed nothing could be harder to comprehend than being forced to stand naked and restrained before a man who’d captured her. Now, as he paced in front of her while studying her from all angles, she struggled to face the next chapter in this nightmare. Her enhanced breasts heaved with every breath while the last scrap of her clothing clung to her waist. Leather circled her neck and a crotch rope had her pussy in turmoil. Her arms were caught overhead. She was helpless.
“You’re a bitch,” he said. “A first class bitch. That’s why you’re here. You’re overdue for an attitude adjustment and a healthy dose of humble pie. You will learn manners. You will stop believing your body has any value beyond being used sexually.”
No! It was too much to think about. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the crazy words he’d thrown at her.
“Pay attention, bitch. Play time’s over.”
The arm holding the crop lifted. Turning to the side a little, he stepped toward her. Sudden pain screamed over her belly. Every nerve on fire, she fought to back away. Her spine jammed against the column. She wasn’t sure but didn’t think she’d made a sound. Prayed she hadn’t.
He whipped her again, on her right hip this time. Sobbing, she jerked on her arm restraints and struggled to lift a leg to kick him.
“Bad slut. Bad, bad slut!” He struck her left hip. “Resisting’s only going to make it worse, if that’s possible.”
Over and over again the flat leather stung her vulnerable flesh. He seemed to be everywhere at once, hitting her arms, legs, belly, buttocks, breasts. No matter how frantically she tried to out-maneuver him, there was no escape. She could weather a single blow but not this relentless and fast-paced assault. She dimly noted that he’d fallen into a rhythm. Whipped one part of her pain-filled body until she was certain he’d flayed the flesh there. Then, the pace never varying, he concentrated on something else.
Sweat streamed off her, and she’d lost bladder control. Her wrists felt frayed but she couldn’t stop from twisting this way and that. Occasionally her feet tangled with each other, forcing her arms to support her whole weight. The damnable rope against her labia followed her every move. Imprisoning her even more.
Her throat burned but she couldn’t stop screaming. She repeatedly hissed, “No! No!”
The world beyond her nightmare blurred. Even her torturer existed as nothing more than a dark and deadly shadow. He was capable of inflicting so much pain, of abusing every inch of her.
He stopped her frenzied twisting by grabbing a nipple and pulling her toward him. Even as a new wave of fear gripped her, she silently thanked him because the beating had stopped.
“Control takes many forms,” he said, “and has many layers. I deliberately started with an intense example, but rest assured it’s hardly the last.” He pressed the crop against her cheek, compelling her to turn her head away until she could barely see him out of the corner of her eye. “Until today you believed this was your body to exploit to your advantage. It’s never going to be like that again.”
The throbbing overrode her ability to think. He’d turned her into a lump of pain, and she had no way out.
“Concentrate.” His voice became hypnotic. “Listen to what your system’s trying to tell you.” He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending hot sensation through her. “What’s its message?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Good. You are paying attention. Last chance to answer. What is your body saying?”
Despite the water he’d given her a few minutes ago, her throat was so dry she could barely speak. “I—please, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“What?”
Oh no! “Master, what should I say?”
“It’s really quite simple.” He let go of her nipple only to capture the other one. This time his hold was gentle, almost loving. Her fear ratcheted up. “I want a verbal description of how you feel.”
“I hurt.” She’d meant to throw the words at him so why had they come out as little more than a whisper? Surely it wasn’t because she was grateful for the light touch. More likely terror had rendered her stupid.
“Of course you hurt. That was my intention. Surely you can do better than that. After all I have it on good authority that you’re an expert when it comes to verbal persuasion. Take the skill and expand on the sensations you’re experiencing. You won’t like it if you don’t satisfy me.”
He was playing with her. He was the predator, she his mouse. “You beat me,” she said unnecessarily. “Hit me everywhere. Took advantage—“
“That’s not what I’m asking for and you know it.” He tightened his hold. Her nipple felt as if was caught in a trap. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re incapable of following simple directions which leaves me with no choice but to repeat the lesson.” Head tilted to the side, he ran the crop from her throat to her crotch. “This time pay closer attention.”
“No, please,” she gasped. “Master, no more. I can’t—no more.”
“Tisk, tisk. I thought I made it clear that we’re just getting started. You’ve been found guilty of a number of sins all in need of being exorcised so you don’t ever try using them again.”
When he let go of her breast and took a backward step, she froze in anticipation of what she knew was coming next. She was less than a mouse in a cat’s claws. She’d become an insect under a giant’s boot. Despite the horrible image, however, she couldn’t bring herself to beg for mercy again. It wasn’t just because she knew it wouldn’t do her any good. Even hanging naked, helpless, and whip
ped, she had pride. Or maybe arrogance.
Damn it! No man had ever treated her like this!
The first blow landed on her right breast, and with it the concept of right or wrong no longer mattered. Pain bloomed. When he struck her breast again, her nerves short circuited. He’d abandoned his earlier rhythm and now attacked in a terrifying frenzy. From what she could tell—not that she could put her mind to it—he hadn’t drawn blood. Instead, he was pain-painting her helpless body.
Because of the pillar behind her, her back was spared the worst of the assault. If she could hold still the fire wouldn’t reach her buttocks or backs of her thighs, but he knew how to keep her turning. Besides, moving helped somehow, gave her something to do, deluded her into thinking she still had some control.
“Pain’s a beautiful thing.” He abraded her uplifted arms from elbows to armpit. “Certainly not to whoever’s on the receiving side, but it’s the most effective lesson for compliance man has designed.”
He stopped just long enough for her vision to clear, then started in on her breasts again. He made them lurch and shudder and pushed endless gasps from her throat.
“Look at it this way. Instead of going to school for years—“ He struck her right side. “you’re getting the short course. You might graduate sooner than you think you can.”
After pushing the crop end under her jaw to insure she was looking at him, he went back to working on her ribs. Killing her a little with each blow.
“You aren’t going to like what happens once you receive your diploma, but that’s immaterial. Carnal prides itself on putting out a quality product.” He lashed her belly until she couldn’t breathe. “That’s what you are, slut. A product-in-training.”
He said other things, words that jammed against her ears but made no sense. His horrible weapon seemed to be everywhere at once, abusing her hips, stomach, and legs. Loathing herself, she nevertheless danced for him. Cried and sobbed. Begged and pleaded.
“Can’t hear you bitch. Might as well save yourself the trouble of trying to make me give a damn.”
After that he fell silent. The only sounds came from leather striking flesh and her frenzied, helpless breathing. He was killing her. Soon she’d be dead. If only he’d get it over with, free her from this agonized existence.
“Shit,” he said. She wouldn’t have heard him except he’d suddenly stopped attacking. “I’ve worn myself out.”
Her head was so heavy. Flames consumed her. Still she made herself look at him. He was grimacing and rubbing his crop-wielding shoulder.
Please don’t start again. I won’t survive if—“
“Getting to be an old man.” It sounded as if he was talking to himself. “Used to be I could go twice this long. Too bad I can’t give you a demonstration.”
Oh God no. Please no.
After dropping the crop, he released her wrists from overhead but kept them bound together. Her unbelievably heavy arms dropped in front of her. She tried to widen her stance, but the hobble made that impossible. Spent, she slumped to the ground. Despite her screaming flesh, she couldn’t move.
“One lesson down.” He jabbed her in the side with his boot. “An untold number to come.”
The weeds under her were cool and sharp. She smelled her urine but couldn’t summon the strength to move. He was doing something to her collar but that too was unimportant. He was no longer beating her and she didn’t have to stand any more. Other than moaning, she didn’t react when he rolled her from her side onto her back. After loosening the crotch rope a little and pushing it to the side, he reached between her legs and roughly separated her labia. Her mind told her to resist, but he’d stolen her strength. She didn’t try to lift her head as he forced the base of the crop into her vagina.
“That’s staying there while you ponder your transgressions—and what’s going to happen next.”
He’d won this round. Helpless shame and dread filled her as he wound more of his damnable rope around her thighs, sealing her legs together so she couldn’t remove the crop.
He’d left her and was climbing the stairs before she realized he’d chained her neck to the pillar. Even if she had the strength and dexterity necessary to untie her legs she couldn’t leave. Eventually he’d return and punish her for doing something she had no right to do.
Chapter Six
“You didn’t fool around,” Damek told Reno as the two men carried their beer bottles out onto the porch overlooking Reno’s latest subject. “You really laid into her.”
Reno didn’t care if the spent woman heard. In fact, the more he said about the destruction he intended to heap on her, the better—at least from his perspective.
“This is a bit of a rush job.” He sat down, then rested his feet on the back of the redhead who was on her hands and knees between the two men. The slave trainee bent under the twin weights, then straightened her spine. “I’m not sure how I feel about the change from the usual pace. I don’t want to leave any gaps in her education.”
Damek laughed. “Oh I have no doubt you’ll do just fine. It’s hard to tell considering she’s such a mess, but she’s pretty well put together?”
“I guess. I’m not a fan of big jugs. I sure as hell wouldn’t have allowed it.”
“Hmm.” Damek leaned. “I’m a boobs man, not that I have to tell you.”
“No, you don’t. From what I’ve been able to determine, the breasts enhancement didn’t rob her of any nipple sensitivity, but I need to administer a few tests to make sure.”
Damek ran his heel over the back of the slave’s head. “I’m sure you will. What is it? She piss someone off?”
“In spades. The attitude correction needed box in the application was marked.”
“Too bad I have my hands full finishing up with this project. Otherwise, I’d volunteer to help you.”
“I appreciate the sacrifice.”
Damek and he had worked together long enough that they felt no need to keep the conversation going. However, after downing about half of his beer, Reno indicated the creature they were using as a foot rest.
“I envy you,” he admitted. “When we’re creating a sex slave, there’s no question about how the goal’s reached. It’s different when revenge is the motive.”
“Not quite as clear how far to go?”
“Exactly.”
Damek finished his beer. “The flip side of something like this is, you’ll get to experiment as you look for the line between broken and merely bent.”
Reno held up his hand to shield his eyes. His subject hadn’t moved since he’d trussed her up. It was possible she’d passed out, but his guess was she was fighting to remain conscious in an attempt to make sense of what was happening. Lots of luck.
“I don’t get some bitches.” He made sure his words carried. “They think they can walk all over men. They don’t concern themselves with consequences until it’s too late.”
“Fortunately you’re getting to teach her the error of her ways.”
#
Cheri didn’t know how long she’d lain on the ground before Reno came for her. The sun was nearly overhead. If she was home, she’d just be getting up. She had a hair appointment, but would her hairdresser try to get in touch with her? Maybe not since she’d missed more than one appointment in the four or five months she’d been going to the new salon.
Beauty parlors were part of a world that no longer existed for her. At least the dreadful minutes when she felt as if she was being flayed alive were behind her. Along with isolation and the hum of bugs had come a return to reality. New reality. Someone had paid Reno to abuse but not kill her.
Her vaginal muscles had repeatedly caressed the crop handle as if it was a lover instead of what it really was. Reno might turn it back into an instrument of torture, but until then she’d surround herself with as much pleasure as possible.
From where she waited like a dog, she acknowledged the masculine legs a few inches away. Reno taken off his shirt, changed from jeans to s
horts, and traded his tennis shoes for sandals. She tried not to acknowledge how easy it would be for him to get naked.
Ignoring her groans, he pushed her shoulder with his sandal until she was again on her back. “I’m not getting paid to let you rest. Damn but you’re a mess.”
Surely he didn’t expect anything different. Sweat coated every inch of her, and debris stuck to her skin. Her hair was a matted mess, her makeup undoubtedly ruined.
“How does that feel?” He nudged the crop he was raping her with.
“Go to hell.” The words were out of her before she could stop them.
Kneeling, he grabbed both breasts. “For the record, I don’t believe there’s such a place, but your response pleases me. Would you like to know why?”
Right now all she cared about was why he was doing these awful things to her. During the beating, agony had encompassed her, but it had faded to an almost manageable level. If her mind was refusing to acknowledge how much pain she really was in, she was grateful. That way she could concentrate on the bastard looming over her.
And on the gift he’d imbedded in her.
He wrinkled his nose. “You stink. Doesn’t personal hygiene matter to you?”
Damn it, no one had ever said she stank. “You know who I am—and the answer to your stupid question.”
His hold on her nipples tightened. Gasping, she gaped up at him. “So let me get this straight. Not long ago you were blubbering like a terrified brat, but that’s changed. What is it, you think you can take me?”
“No, Master.”
“That’s right. So.” He squeezed. “From one to ten how much does that hurt?”
“It—ten, Master.”
“Not even close.” He drew her breasts together, then let go. She whined in relief.
She wasn’t sure how she felt when he drew the whip out of her because its presence had kept her sane.
“That’s a well-used pussy,” he declared as he wiped the glistening base on her cheeks. “I’d call it your weapon of choice. You bring men to their knees simply by offering them access.”
It wasn’t like that!
“I’m not playing your stupid game,” she said and turned her head away. The moment she did she knew she’d made a mistake. Her survival might depend on watching his every movement.
