Owned And Owner (11 page)
When the crate opened I crawled out into the car, which was in a dim garage. He leashed me, fastened my hands behind my back, and led me, first into an elevator that took us down to street level, then through the
pedways
. I was hardly able to look about me, as the usual staring male giants surrounded me; I couldn’t bear to risk anyone catching my eye. I was not yet used to the sound of their exclamations and laughter, and I tried to shrink into my master’s shadow. He quickly made me heel, however, with my back straight and head up, yanking on the leash to reinforce this. I was acutely aware of my nakedness. I had hardly been among people at all since the auction, except my master’s household and friends, and that party, which felt like an extension of my master’s living room, but was humiliating enough. Now I was being exposed to streets full of strangers, a partially trained animal on the end of a leash. Although my head had to be up, my eyes were down as I half ran to keep the leash from pulling. My breasts bounced awkwardly, out of my control.
Then to my relief we went into a storefront. Familiar odors hit me – animals, and disinfectant, and I looked around the waiting room to see men sitting with various burdens on their laps – little yapping dogs, small cages full of hissing bundles of indignation. There were larger creatures on leashes eyeing each other from across the room.
I was at the vet.
My master spoke to someone, sat down and settled me next to him on the hard floor. I tried to shrink even smaller than I was, but everyone was staring and the comments and questions were unmistakable. Involuntarily I turned my face against my master’s leg, and let out a tiny whimper. He stroked my hair soothingly, and I heard his deep voice answering. I tried not to look at all the eyes staring at me. Why was this so frightening? I was an animal on a leash out in public, that’s all. A naked animal with her hands fastened behind her back, helplessly displaying her highly unusual sexual characteristics to huge strangers who had never seen them before. What was so scary about that?
All my awareness seemed to be focused on my breasts; there were so many eyes on them they felt hot. Can tits blush? I could clench my legs together, but my breasts were too big to conceal. I wanted to turn around and bury myself in my master’s arms and hide, but I didn’t want them looking at my rear view, either. Anyway, my master had put me in this position and I knew better than to alter it without permission. He must have sensed my inclination, and not trusted my obedience in this strange place; I felt his hand holding tightly to the ring on the back of my collar.
The animals, thankfully, lost interest in me very quickly, and turned back to the matter of whose territory the waiting room was. There was one exotic looking creature who kept reaching the end of its leash with a start, as if surprised, returning to its owner and then prowling forward again. By the end of half an hour it was looking only slightly less surprised when the leash stopped it. Not the brightest star in the galaxy.
I had calmed down by the time we were finally called in. I was quite cheerful, actually. My catastrophic fears from the
aircar
were obviously unjustified. I decided I was there for a checkup of some sort. It’s always a mistake to anticipate. In the examining room there was a youngish man with dark skin and close-cropped hair, dealing with something metallic over at a sink. My master lifted me to a high table and to my surprise began to fasten me down tightly. He even strapped my head down to the table, using a blindfold and heavy gag. I couldn’t move at all, barely a twitch. My limbs were tight and trembling now, and I could hear my heart thumping. The two men talked a little, and fingers examined and pinched me here and there. I felt my nipple being swabbed and clamped, and then a very sharp pain and a pull, making me sob with fear and confusion. A big hand was stroking me gently, calming me down, before the next nipple was subjected to the same painful treatment.
While my labia were being pierced, my master continued stroking me and speaking soothingly in my ear. I knew what was happening by that time, but I couldn’t help crying into the gag, it hurt so much. Worst of all was the tiny nose ring, however, right through the septum. The others were mostly sexy, if painful. That one, in addition to stinging like hell, was simply humiliating. The nose is not an erogenous zone, as far as I’m concerned.
But I lie. Not about my nose not being an erogenous zone; it’s not. I mean about anything being ‘simply’ humiliating. Being led through the streets by that ring is awful, degrading and often painful, and there is nothing in that pain that excites me and thus alters the experience. Pain – in the right places – is like the yeast that ferments the moment, transforms it into the heady intoxicant of arousal. But humiliation, for creatures like me, has the same effect, without the need for direct contact with erogenous zones. I hate being led by my nose ring; I cry and whimper every time he clips the leash to it. I would resist if I could, but of course that’s impossible – it just hurts too damned much to do anything but follow. Nothing makes me feel lower than being led by the nose ring. Nothing makes me wetter, either.
He didn’t lead me back to the
aircar
by the nose ring that day, of course – just by my collar. I was shaky with pain and the shock of it all, and walking nudged the labia rings. I felt literally pinned, like a lab specimen, for the edification of gigantic crowds. Still, the leash tugged and I followed, responding to the occasional upward jerk by straightening my back and thrusting out my glinting, bouncing nipples, trying not to look at the heads all swiveling to stare at me. It was a great relief to be locked back up in my crate for the ride home.
The piercings all healed remarkably quickly. For a week they were treated with a cream and the rings were turned, and then they were fine. I think the cream was some kind of healing accelerator. We had just begun to hear about such things on Raniz before I left. I once saw
Pav
get a bad burn on his arm. A few days later there was barely a mark, so I think I’m right about what they used.
As a result, the rings rapidly became part of the usable equipment. My master often fastened me to the wall by my nipples. If I had fallen there was always a strap to catch me, but I would have had to hurt my nipples a fair amount to lean on it. He particularly liked me kneeling face down and bottom up, with my nipple rings chained tightly to my labia rings, and my labia rings chained to the bedpost. If I was very lucky, while he was whipping my ass he would let me rub my chained labia against the post. One of his favorite ideas was a thin chain tight around each thigh and through each labia ring, pulling my cunt lips wide, making me even more unprotected and exposed than usual.
The rings became part of me, little handles to hold or tie me. They had an effect on my psyche out of all proportion to their size. Bits of metal, integrated with my flesh, making it incredibly easy to hurt me with the slightest tug or twist. That was so scary, especially in that period, relatively early in my slavery, when my confidence that I would not be cut into little pieces was largely based on some reading I had been given on the subject, on another planet, millions of kilometers away. My brain could say whatever it wanted about how safe I was from serious damage; my body was afraid. My body was naked and utterly defenseless, at the mercy of the huge beings around me.
The hard rings made me feel more acutely the tenderness and vulnerability of the flesh they pierced. And the little metal handles made me a thing, almost a piece of furniture. The rings were now part of my slave’s body, offering simple attachment points for the convenient use of the object that I was.
Liaske
talked to his son by
vidcam
one day. ‘When am I going to see this new acquisition of yours?’
‘I didn’t know you’d care to.’ Garid studied his father’s face. ‘Do you want to come here? Or do you just want a look at her?’
‘Anything that’s obsessing you this much is worth a visit. I called your office. They said you were working from home.’
‘I’m not goofing off entirely. The next proposal’s half done.’ Then he laughed. ‘One look at your face and I’m trying to prove I haven’t forgotten my homework.’
Liaske
smiled, but there was no diverting him.
‘When?’
‘Come tomorrow.’
The next day
Liaske
sat down with Garid in the view room, and looked at the female sitting on her heels in front of him. She wore a leash and collar, and rings in her flesh. Garid had chosen not to push the situation too far; he had applied the healing accelerator to her welts, and although not invisible, they could reasonably be overlooked by anyone who didn’t want to examine her too closely.
‘She’s rather a cute little thing. Smaller than I expected from pictures.’
‘Yes, they breed quite small, apparently.’
‘She’s very attached to you.’
‘You’ve a quick eye.’
‘It’s apparent enough. Follows you with her eyes, and she leans toward you even though she stays where she’s put.’
Liaske
watched the slave as he spoke. ‘I see she doesn’t understand
Henthen
. But she certainly can’t conceal her feelings, can she?’
‘No, she’s quite transparent.’
‘Very animal-like in that way.
Odd how that makes her seem less than human. Just a
hajedy
,’ said
Liaske
, using the term for female animal.
‘Interesting that you should say that, because “
jeedy
” is what I call her.’
Liaske
nodded, and continued to contemplate the smooth-skinned, childish-looking face. ‘She doesn’t look like a criminal.’
Garid’s
eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Not on this planet. No opportunity.’
‘You’re careful to give her none, I take it. What did she do?’
‘General mayhem and destructiveness.
About forty incidents, from the record.
Also, she didn’t do anything useful, which really seems to have annoyed them.’
‘Sounds like the
Wulbish
clan.’
Garid laughed. ‘They’re of some use! They provide gossip for everyone else and an income for lawyers.’
‘Speaking of which,
Avignar
Wulbish
was in my office the other day…’
Garid listened to his father’s story with amusement and relief. If
Liaske
could chat comfortably with his son’s pet woman six feet away, it was going to be all right.
Before he left,
Liaske
stroked the creature’s hair and, holding her chin, once again examined her eyes and brows, the planes of her little face, the set of her mouth. She gazed back from all fours, looking perplexed, and shifted her weight a little from side to side.
Liaske
had the feeling that if she had a tail she’d be wagging it.
He looked into the gray eyes, and squeezed her jaw firmly, giving her head a little shake. ‘Behave
yourself
,
jeedy
,’ he said.
Garid was working from home a good deal as his father had said, and focusing as much time as he could on his slave. But soon he would have to get back out there. Even now there were occasional meetings elsewhere that couldn’t be avoided. The day after
Liaske’s
visit, Garid was booked to spend the morning at a local planning meeting in the rural Lower Archipelago, thirty minutes by
aircar
from
Therin’s
neighborhood. He called to see if Therin wanted to meet him in
‘Great! Are you paying? I’ll tell you all about my visit to
Lave’s
,’ Therin offered in a confidential tone. ‘In full and salacious detail…?’
Garid lowered his eyelids to conceal his amusement. He always paid. He looked up, deadpan. ‘Since
Lave’s
been treating you, you probably aren’t interested in seeing my girl today. See you there at one,’ he said, reaching for the shutoff. He laughed silently at
Therin’s
protests, and adjusted the screen to show his
jeedy
, who sat on her heels, in a hood, with her nose ring chained to the arm of his chair. Her arms were confined behind her in a long leather arm binder, as smooth and supple as her own skin, but much stronger. Therin stared at the anonymous little creature, the bagging of her head making her even less human than usual,
a
pure female body, nothing else. He liked the rings piercing her nipples, hung with weights, the labia rings he could see peeking out between her thighs, and decided that he would do that with his own slave when he had one. But probably he would add more rings.
The restaurant was buzzing quietly with conversations that could be heard but not understood through the privacy fields around each table. A typical businessman’s retreat, but the food was very good. They gave their orders to the
roboserver
and settled back. It wasn’t often they met face to face.
Therin made a good story of his visit with Lave, bawdy and full of the promised lascivious detail, and Garid listened with pleasure. Their food arrived in the middle of it, and Therin started in with the gusto that he always applied to free food of such quality, waving his implements for emphasis as he talked. He called up four different sauces and applied them extravagantly. The story ended with the final morning blowjob; Therin deliberately avoided the depressing part at the end. ‘Not bad, eh?’ he exulted.