Fifty Shades of Submission (29 page)

She looks down at
me scornfully. "Well, why didn't you leave?"

I mumble
something unintelligible. I am weary and emotionally drained beyond measure

"
I suppose you couldn’t leave because you don’t have any money!" she cries. "Here! You can have it back!" With a sneering gesture she tosses my wallet down at me. It lands on the floor at my feet.

I
pick it up and stumble to my room without a word.

I have been lying in my room for days now
in a kind of stupor. I am emotionally exhausted and so overcome with unhappiness that I can hardly move. I feel as though someone close to me has died. Perhaps I mourn my own imminent death.

Amun has been looking in on me from time to time and brings me food but I cannot bring myself to eat anything.

Saskia go
es out every day with the Russian and often overnights at his place. Sometimes he visits her here and I hear them talking and laughing upstairs. Sometimes he stays the night and I lie awake and listen for sounds coming from upstairs. He usually leaves in the early hours of the morning before dawn.

S
askia does not summon me or come near me. It seems she has no more need of or use for her slave.

Today I finally summon the energy to leave my room and stumble about in the garden in a listless daze. After a few paces I am exhausted and sit down on the grass among the shrubs with my back against the trunk of an old elm tree. I watch a male weaver build its nest for its mate while the female looks on, chirping happily. At least there is still some joy left in the world – even in this wretched garden.

Suddenly I hear
footsteps on the gravel path. I peer through the foliage and see Saskia and the Russian strolling arm in arm in my direction. They seem in deep conversation, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Suddenly he stops and stamps his foot as though in a fit of temper so that the gravel scatters about in all directions. He lashes the air with his riding crop to make a point and Saskia recoils from him, startled. Then he storms off and she calls after him but he ignores her and marches away in anger.

Saskia
lowers her head and sits down on a garden bench nearby. She sits with her shoulders slumped dejectedly. I watch her with a sort of malevolent pleasure. It is strange to see her troubled and unhappy.

Was that just a brief lover’s quarrel, or is it
something more serious. Is it over between them? I pray that it is with every fibre of my being.

Finally
I get up and go to her. She is startled by my sudden appearance and I notice with satisfaction that she has been crying.

"Trouble in paradise?
" I say with deep sarcasm. "I see that you have at last found a master. I wonder if he will treat you as badly as you have treated me. I certainly hope so."

Her eyes flare angrily.
"A master? Yes, thank God! Not a pathetic, whimpering slave! I have had enough of a whining slave who bursts into tears every few minutes! A real woman needs a
real
man – someone whom she can respect and adore."

"Do you adore him
? I have heard that he is brutal and heartless—"

"Yes, I
adore him -
and
love him! I feel as if I have never loved anyone else before him."

I clench
my fists at her words. "Very well then, take him as your husband! Let him be your master and treat you brutally - but I still want to remain your slave!"

"You want to remai
n my slave?" she says contemptuously, "Have you no pride? Have you no self-worth?”

“Not when it comes to you.”

She laughs coldly. “I suppose that could be an interesting concept – we could both enjoy abusing you - but he won't permit it."

"He
won't
permit
it?"

"H
e is already jealous of you. He demanded that I get rid of you immediately when I told him about our arrangement—"

"You told him?" I repeat with disbelief.

"I told him everything – the whole sordid story from the beginning. Your weirdness, your obsession with pain and martyrdom - everything—and instead of being amused as I thought he might be, he grew very angry.”

"And threatened to strike you?"

She lowered her eyes and remained silent.

"Yes, indeed," I said with mocking bitternes
s. “He looks the type who takes pleasure in beating a woman. That’s why he would not be interested in abusing a man. He would rather be interested in abusing you because you’re a woman. Is he a good lover? I’m willing to bet he’s not. He’s the kind of man who fucks women for his own pleasure, not theirs.”

“
Not that it’s any of your business - he’s a
wonderful
lover!” She says coldly. “He has the cock and the stamina of a stallion - a
very
well-hung stallion. And his appetite is voracious. Last night he brought me to orgasm five times! He wanted more but I couldn’t take any more – I was physically drained. In the end we fell asleep with our bodies entwined, his big hard cock still inside me.” She laughs coldly. “Am I turning you on? Want to know more?”

I
stare at her, seething and furious and heartbroken.

“I bet you do!” sh
e smiles scornfully. “If you must know, we
always
fall asleep in each other’s arms. And when he awakes he is immediately aroused and starts fucking me all over again. He always fucks me before he leaves.” She laughs.

I glare at her.
"You’re afraid of him, aren’t you? Does he know you have money? Are you sure he wants you and not just your money? They say around town that he’s ruthless with women – fucks them, beats them then leaves them. Aren’t you afraid that once he has you in his power he will start beating you as well?"

“Why on earth w
ould he beat me?”

“Amun
heard that he beat his last wife so savagely that her spleen burst and she had to be hospitalized.  She left him because of it.”

“If you’re trying to
annoy me you’re succeeding!” she said threateningly. “You’re lucky I don’t have my whip with me!”

I
sit down beside her and take her hand. She tries to pull it away but I hold it firmly. "I’m not trying to annoy you or scare you. I don't want anything from you except to be your slave, to be always near you – no matter what the circumstances. If he is cruel to you I will be there to protect you.”

She snatches her hand away.
"Do you have any idea how much you bore me?" she said coldly.

I
get to my feet, seething. "You are the cruellest bitch I have ever known and believe me, I have known a few!"

She shrugs indifferently.
"You already said so. For an intelligent man you tend to repeat yourself with tedious regularity. I should punish you for your insolence, but let me try reason instead of lashes.

“
You have
no
right
to accuse me of anything. Haven't I always been brutally honest with you? Haven't I warned you more than once that I can be far crueller than you could ever imagine? Didn't I warn you that it was dangerous to put yourself completely in my power? Didn’t I tell you that I preferred to be dominated by a man? But you wanted to be my plaything, my slave! You found the highest pleasure in being humiliated, in feeling my whip on your back. If I now take pleasure in torturing you, abusing you, it is
your
fault -
you
made me what I have become! And now you stand there snivelling miserably and blame
me
for everything?"

"Yes, I am guilty," I agree
, "but haven't I suffered enough because of it? Can’t we put an end now to this cruel game?"

"
Game
? I never thought of it as a game!”

"
You almost succeeded in driving me to the edge of reason but be warned! I have come to my senses. Just don’t push me too far -"

“
Are you trying to threaten me? You’re only making yourself more ridiculous. Had you been a proper man in the first place I would have loved you faithfully, and probably would have married you. Instead you turned out to be a weak and pathetic romantic consumed with crazy obsessions of pain and suffering and martyrdom. No woman wants a martyr as her master. A woman wants to respect her man - not have someone like you who voluntarily places his neck under my foot. You allowed and welcomed everything that was done to you. Now I am tired of you and it’s time for you to go!"

"
Send me away," I say jeeringly, "and see what happens. Some playthings are more dangerous than you think."

Her eyes flash
angrily. "I warn you, don't challenge me!"

"If you won't be mine," I continue, my
voice stifled with rage, "no one else shall have you either!"

"
Is that a line from a movie?" she says mockingly. “Or have I heard it somewhere before? From the painter perhaps? And look what happened to him!” She leaps to her feet and grabs a fistful of my T-shirt. She is pale and trembling with fury. "Don't you
ever
dare threaten me - I warn you! There’s no telling what I might do!"

"
Very well –
marry him then!”
I snarl, enraged. “Make your Russian lover your husband! It will be exactly what you deserve!”

"
Yes! I will make him my lover!
” she cried coldly. “And I just might make
you
his slave – to do with as he likes! He knows about methods of torture that will make your skin crawl. He has made a study of it. It interests him. He will keep you alive for weeks and weeks while slowly and excruciatingly torturing you to death!”

"
You’re
insane
!"

"
I warn you for the last time – someone like me who has gone as far as I have might easily go further! I feel only hatred and repugnance for you, and would find a real pleasure in watching my lover beat you to death! I can barely restrain myself!"

I am overcome with rage and
grab her wrists and forced her to the ground, so that she’s on her knees before me.

She
gasps, rage painting her face like a contorted mask of fury.

"I’
ll
kill
you if you marry him!" I snarl. "You’re
mine
! You belong to
me!"
I feel rage and passion surge up inside me, overwhelming me. And now I am operating purely on instinct.

In one swift movement I shove her on the gravel path on her back and
crush her with my body. Her eyes widen with shock and her look of fear spurs me on.  She begins to fight me but I hold her down easily with one hand. I rip the key with the gold chain off her neck, snapping the chain. While holding her down, I pull my jeans down and unlock the chastity belt and hurl it away into the bushes, vowing never to wear that fucking ridiculous contraption ever again!

She is fighting furiously now, knowing what’s coming, but she’s no match for my strength. For all her cruelty and brutality, she
only has the physique of a woman. I drag her skirts up above her waist and tear her flimsy lace panties off. She tries to scratch and bite and kick me. I subdue her by slapping her viciously across the face
. “Lie still, bitch!”

Her eyes now are deep pools of terror.

“
I will show you what a man can do!”
I snarl, and roughly spread her legs. My fingers bite into the soft flesh of her inner thighs which will leave bruises later on. I take my engorged penis in my hand and point it at her vagina and penetrate her with a brutal pelvic thrust that makes her gasp with pain. I drive down hard and viciously in a blind rage as she struggles violently beneath me, trying to escape my cock.

I am the one in charge now. I am the master
now and she is no more than a weak, whimpering submissive pinned helplessly beneath me. I feel as strong and ferocious and merciless as a raging bull mounting its female – blinded by lust. I want to fuck her and hurt her and subdue her and show her just how pathetically frail she is against my bull strength. I want to inflict as much pain on her as I can with my huge cock. I want to tear her up. I want to hear her sob and scream for mercy.

I thrust
into her with all my strength and all the pent-up rage that I possess. I hold her hips down hard under me so that she is unable to escape the fury of my penis. With one hand I rip her bodice open and lower my head and bite down brutally into the soft flesh of her breasts, drawing blood. She starts to mewl with pain. As I fuck her I bite into her breasts and her nipples and her pain excites me even further. I know I could come in an instant if I let go, but I want this sensation of power and absolute dominance to go on and on for as long as possible.
I want to humiliate this bitch!