Slave Jade (17 page)

She knew she would feel better if she were allowed to come again too, but she didn't dare voice this request. Who knew what he would demand as payment for the pleasure. Instead, she contented herself with the lovely and rare feeling of a full belly, and the soft sheets and pillows on Gilbert's bed.

She dimly remembered it had once been her goal to get to this room. To convince Gilbert that she was his willing captive and lover. Why had she wanted to do that? She struggled to think. Oh yes, to escape. Escape. The word reverberated in her head now.

What had happened to those plans? When had her burning desire to get out been replaced by the narrowing focus on food and avoidance of pain? On sexual pleasure and submission to his increasingly outrageous demands? She turned her head slightly. Amazingly, Gilbert seemed to have fallen asleep beside her. She was out of her prison cell, in his bedroom beside the sleeping man.

Dared she get up and make a dash for the living room? Would she find the gun again? Use it? Blow his fucking brains out? Gilbert shifted, and wrapped his arms tight around the naked girl, murmuring something incoherent. Silently she cursed him, but didn't dare to struggle or wake him.

But something was happening inside of Lisa. Maybe all she had needed was a full belly to make her think clearly. And the trappings of civilization—being in a real bedroom instead of a black box with a mattress and a stinky bowl of stale piss.

She moved a little and Gilbert moved in kind, easing his grip on her somewhat. Lisa slid slowly away from him, though his arms were still around her, but more loosely.

Careful not to rouse him, she looked around the room in the light of the moon shining through the window. Next to the bed was a small nightstand, cluttered with used tissues and a few empty drinking glasses. Across from the bed was a bureau. Across the top were scattered the usual items-- a comb, some loose change, a pocketknife, a key.

A key.

Could it be the key to her prison? Lisa's heart started to patter in her chest. She was afraid he might feel it against his own, and again she moved lightly, trying to ease farther away. Gilbert opened one eye, smiled sleepily at her and said, “Don't go anywhere, sugar.” She snuggled against him, pretending to be asleep, until she again heard his regular and even breathing.

All the while her mind was churning. The prospect of escape had leaped full blown back into a mind that had been steadily shutting down, as the days and weeks of torture and deprivation had rendered her defenseless. Now it was as if a light had been turned on, flashing around the insidious spider webs of despair and conditioning.

This was just one man! He wasn't an army. He wasn't that much bigger than she was, though he was stronger, much stronger now that she had been so weakened by forced inactivity and constant hunger. But he was just one man. There was a gun in this house somewhere, though she doubted he'd left it in that coffee table drawer.

She refocused on the key lying on the dresser. If she could just get a hold of them. She leaned toward Gilbert now, trying to get a better look at the keys that were always around his neck. There were three keys, two small ones that were probably for the metal cuffs and the footlocker, and the larger one that must be the door key. She looked at it carefully, noting the brand name of the key, and trying to memorize the grooves and cuts on its stem.

She toyed for a second with trying to remove the chain from his neck, but immediately discarded the idea as a dangerous one. Looking back over these weeks, it was as if a shroud had fallen from her eyes and mind. But she could remember the feelings that had been growing, and they still lurked near the surface of her newfound clarity. She remembered how focused she had been on getting food, and on pleasing Gilbert in all things. Her life had shrunk and narrowed to absurd proportions. She had almost ceased to be human.

And Gilbert still believed she was in that passive, defeated state. He still believed she lived for his approval, and the little privileges and reprieves he tossed her way. Good. That was an advantage. Let him continue to think that. She would do her best to behave with docility and submission, and lull him into thinking he'd created his perfect slave mate.

Gilbert stirred and sat up. Reaching into his nightstand, he pulled out a coil of rope. “Hold your wrists together,” he ordered. “I’m going to let you stay with me tonight.” He tied her wrists securely and then twisted the rope in knots around the bedpost. He left enough give so she could move, but there was no way she could get away.

Leaning down, he kissed the tip of nose. “Lovely girl,” he whispered.

The man was beyond sick. Lisa felt the slow burn of rage melting in her blood. Forcing her face into a smooth and she hoped pleasant expression, Lisa snuggled against the man she despised and fell asleep.

It felt so nice, having her next to him, warm flesh against warm flesh. Though she couldn’t yet be trusted to lie unfettered beside him, there was no denying something had definitely changed between them. Dared he hope she was finally coming around?

The training was taking a deep hold of her at last, as he had hoped and dreamed it would. Gilbert and Lisa. He liked the sound of it. Master John and Slave Jade? That was nice too, but that was fantasy. What he had with Lisa was infinitely better, so richly complex.

He loved that he could call her cunt one moment, and lover the next. Beat her raw and then make sweet love to her. And now she not only didn't resist, she seemed to crave what he offered. He had to be careful though. It was still a fine line between lover and slave, and he didn't want her crossing it. He would still ration her food and beat her regularly, just to make certain she stayed needy and dependent. It was good when she was hungry and hurting. It kept her from thinking too clearly.

Sunlight was filtering through his window. Gilbert nudged the sleeping girl. “Lisa,” he whispered. “Lisa, wake up. I want you to suck my cock.”

Lisa shifted and opened her eyes. She looked so vulnerable, her face smudged with sleep. Gilbert felt his heart expand so that it almost hurt. He undid the knots and unwound the rope from her frail wrists. She smiled at him and stretched like a cat.

“Please, sir, may I pee first?”

Gilbert looked down at her. She well knew he might refuse. She held her breath. “Okay,” he said, “And since you’ve been such a good little slut, you can use my toilet. Don't get used to it, though. Slaves don't use toilets.”

“Oh! Thank you, sir!” Lisa breathed, fixing him with an adoring gaze. But in fact she was wondering, who the fuck made up that stupid rule? Sounds like a Gilbert Assface original. God, it felt good to be angry again! She felt alive. She had almost been lost, she now realized, almost pushed beyond recovery of her old real self. Barely saved from becoming a Stepford wife submissive!

These thoughts flew past her brain in the few seconds it took to stand up. She couldn’t believe her luck. By letting her go by herself, it made the plan that much easier to accomplish. Would it work? God, let it work. She held her breath as Gilbert turned his head, yawning hugely.

That was all she needed. While his head was averted, his eyes scrunched shut in a yawn, she scurried past the bureau. Quickly she brushed the loose key into her hand and continued on to the bathroom, her heart pounding.

She sat on the toilet, enjoying the sensation of not having to squat as she urinated. Unfolding her fingers, she stared down at the little piece of metal in her hand.

She noted the nicks and cuts along its edge. It was identical. Identical to the one around his neck. Wiping herself quickly and splashing water on her face, she hurried back to Gilbert's bed. As she climbed in she slipped the key between the mattress and the box springs, determined to retrieve it at a later time. She didn't know the next part of the plan yet, but step one had been accomplished. She had a key.

Scooting beneath the sheets to Gilbert's cock, she skillfully licked and caressed it, bringing it quickly to full erection. As he shot his load down her throat she struggled briefly with her desire to gag on his bitter semen. Forcing it down, she smiled up him, and whispered, “Thank you, sir.”

As Gilbert dressed, Lisa slipped her hand down, searching for the key. Once she got it, she slid her hand under the covers and pressed the metal carefully into her pussy. Now she only had to get to her room, remove and hide the key, and bide her time. Since he'd just orgasmed, she doubted he'd want to make use of her pussy so soon, but still it was a horrible gamble.

Lisa felt adrenaline coursing hot and cold through her system. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Now that they were lovers again, at least in his mind, he wanted her to come have breakfast with him. That was well and good, but she needed to get to her room and get rid of the key. If he found it, this would surely be her last chance. She didn't dare imagine the punishment if that happened. He might even kill her in his rage.

Lisa was quiet as they ate their breakfast together, eggs and bacon, with buttered toast. The food was wonderful but Lisa barely tasted it, so nervous was she over her hidden treasure. Gilbert didn't seem to notice anything amiss. He held forth about some crazy plan to take her to the Caribbean where they would live happily ever after. If she hadn't been so absorbed with her secret, her face might have betrayed her stunned reaction to his words.

How could this guy dream, for one nanosecond, that she would ever go anywhere with him willingly, much less to some island in the Caribbean! The man was seriously delusional, but she could and would play that to her advantage.

Suddenly she had an idea. It was a gamble, and one that would cost her, but it was worth it to get back to her room. “Excuse me, sir. May I ask a question?”

“Yes, slave.”

“You remember that flying thing? Gosh, I can't seem to stop thinking about it. Do you think, maybe, that we could try that again? I felt so connected to you then, sir. So a part of you. I want to take the pain for you, sir. To suffer for you, sir.”

She'd pushed the right buttons because Gilbert looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “Yes. Yes, slave. I'll take you there again. But you are right about the pain. You have to go through the pain to get to that higher plane. You will suffer, but if you trust me enough, you'll fly again. I promise.”

Egocentric bastard. She would play on that ego, and use it to destroy him.

When Gilbert had finished eating, they walked to her room. She had to be ready to act, and seize the brief moment when his back was turned while he unlocked the trunk.

Before he could give her orders about where and how to stand or kneel, Lisa rushed over to her mattress and knelt quickly, removing the key while his back was to her, and sliding it underneath the mattress.

Gilbert stood and turned, the dreaded single lash and clamps in his hands. Lisa shivered, frightened by the very real torture that awaited her, but also her heart was singing, whirling, doing loop de loops. She had the key.

Passively she stood while Gilbert chained and clamped her. The sharp pain of the clamps mercifully dulled, but she couldn’t help the tremble in her limps as she anticipated the bite of the lash.

“Of course you’re afraid,” Gilbert said in a soothing tone. Lisa wanted nothing more than the smash his smug face. Instead she looked down docilely at the ground as he attached the clamps to her nipples and pussy. She couldn’t help the small cry of pain as the sharp teeth bit into the hood of her tender clit.

“You’re right to be afraid,” he droned on. “But by working through your fear and accepting your master's will, you’ll fly again, I’m sure of it.”

The stroke of the lash caught her square across both ass cheeks and Lisa yelped and thrust forward, as if she could escape. The clamps were tight on her nipples and pussy, and her body was humming and throbbing with stinging pain.

In fact she very much wanted to fly again, indeed was desperate to do so, to get away from the constant searing lashes across her back, thighs and ass, and the bite of the clamps on her tender spots. She waited, yearning to feel that lovely calm descend again, to feel her heartbeat slow and her pain transmute to pure sensation.

But it didn't happen. She continued to jump and yelp, crying and begging finally for him to stop. But Gilbert wouldn't stop. She realized he was determined to take her there. It had, as everything always did, become about him. His ego was intricately involved in her reaching that submissive peak, and she realized he wouldn’t stop until she got there.

Despite her cries for mercy, and her wails and tears, Gilbert continued to lash her skin until she felt as if she was being flayed alive.

Finally even Gilbert admitted defeat. And, as usual when he felt he had lost something, he looked anywhere but at himself to place the blame. Something had been done to him and that something, or someone, would pay. He ripped the clamps roughly from Lisa's breasts and pussy, and unhooked her cuffs from the chain.

“Unworthy slave. You’ve failed me” Lisa barely heard him as she dropped to the ground, hugging her body, tight as a little hedgehog. He left her there, slamming the door and flicking out the lights.