Slave Jade (8 page)

“Oh, Lisa, what have you done? You've hurt yourself again. That's your fault, you know, for struggling. For trying to resist the inevitable. You will be punished for that. He handed her a glass of wine and the plate of food. “Here, you finish what you like. I'll be right back. Don't try anything stupid. I don't like guns.”

The cheese and cracker turned to sawdust in her mouth at the mention of the gun. Forcing the thought from her mind, she ate quickly, wolfing down the food before he took it away. She gulped her wine but didn’t dare reach for the bottle on her own. What she really wanted was water.

He returned with gauze, surgical tape and antiseptic lotion. Gently he cleaned and bandaged each wrist. “There. That should heal within a day or two, and you’ll be protected when I cuff you again.”

He nodded toward her empty glass and she held it out. He filled it, along with his own and lifted his glass to her in a silent toast. The man was insane.

He drank until his glass was empty. Kneeling, he took her glass and the empty plate from her. “Now, for your punishment.”

“Please, sir,” Lisa started to beg but he cut her off.

“No! Don’t speak again. Not unless I ask you a direct question. And then you only answer that question. No discussions or dialogues. Just, 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir' or 'how can I please you, Master?'“

Lisa said nothing. He continued. “I am going to give you a choice of punishment. You can either take a whipping with this crop,” he tapped what she saw was a riding crop, bending its supple handle between his hands. “Or you can lick my ass. I have found that to be a very humbling experience for my slave girls.”

Lisa stared at him, incredulous. The import of his words, especially the implication that he'd done this before, possibly many times, struck her like a blow. Where were these girls now? Dead and buried in his basement perhaps?

And her
choices
? To be whipped like an animal or to
lick
his ass! How could she choose between such horrible options? And for what? Because
he'd
used metal handcuffs on her, and kept her bound for hours in them? Because she'd struggled against them and they'd cut her flesh?

The man was evil.

He was regarding her impassively, though there was a glint in his eyes. “Take your time. We have all the time in the world, fair one.”

Fair one
.

Master John called her fair one. How dare
this man use the term!

Lisa’s gut clutched, the faintest glimmer of some kind of understanding, but it slipped away as he leaned forward, stroking her breast. Lisa wanted to slap that hand, to turn away from him, but she didn't dare.

He rolled a nipple between thumb and forefinger, smiling slightly. “Now then, Lisa. Which is it to be?”

“Please, this is crazy–”

He stood abruptly, his face dark with anger, his lips pressed in a tight line. Jerking her to a standing position, he whirled her around, pulling her tight against him, so her back was against his chest. “I said you do not speak unless spoken to, and then you answer the question put to you. What's so hard about that?”

He sat down hard on the mattress, pulling the hapless girl with him. He pushed her down so her face was mashed against the mattress, her body draped over his lap.

Grabbing the riding crop, which had fallen when he'd pulled her upright, he smacked her bare ass with it, keeping her pinned with one hand on the back of her neck.

Lisa screamed and tried to get away from him but he was far too strong. He hit her with the looped leather end of the riding crop, catching her with stinging blows on her ass, her back, her thighs.

She yelped in astounded pain. He punctuated each strike with admonitions. “You are a disappointment! I want a girl who can obey! I thought you showed more promise, Slave J–” He cut himself sharply off, contenting himself with cropping the naked girl until her ass and back were reddened and she lay still and defeated against him.

“
Now you get to lick my asshole, bitch. That’ll teach you some humility.” He pushed the girl off his lap. She rolled onto the floor, clutching herself for protection as she fell. He stood and unzipped his jeans.

“
Kneel up, tongue out. Now.” Roughly he hauled her up, forcing her into position. Turning, he dropped his pants and bent away from her, shoving his bare ass in her face.

Unable to help herself, Lisa dropped again to the ground. She rolled away from him, curling herself into a ball. There was no way in hell she was going to lick his ass. He would have to kill her first. She shielded her head with her hands, waiting for whatever might happen, steadfast in her decision not to yield.

To her surprise and terrible relief, he slowly stood and pulled his pants back up.

“Perhaps I’m asking too much too soon.” His voice was calm. She stayed curled up, her face hidden. “I'll give you a little time. But you really do need to learn who is in charge here. You'll get some water once you lick my ass. Not before. But take your time, fair one. All the time you need.”

She dared to peek at him. He held the dreaded leather cuffs in hand. “I'm afraid I'll have to cuff you, but these will fit over the bandages. You should be fine, as long as you don't struggle against them.”

He pulled her up from the floor. Forcing her to again lie on the mattress, he cuffed her wrists and re-secured them to the chain in the wall. As he leaned forward she again noticed the fine chain around his neck, and its several keys.

Once she was tethered, he brought in a sheet and draped it over her naked form. He kissed her cheek softly and whispered, “See you soon, slave girl.” Their eyes locked a moment. She was the first to turn away.

~*~

Gilbert sat on the loveseat contemplating the naked, beautiful girl in the next room. He had slept fitfully, awakening repeatedly to the wonderment of what he’d pulled off. If only he'd had the money, he would have installed a video camera in there. Then he could watch her nonstop.

Of course, he could have brought her into the rest of the house. He could have had her sleep in his bed, but that wouldn’t be fair. She deserved the proper training that was needed to teach her her place at his feet. She mustn’t be confused by too much love, not yet. That would come later, once he’d broken her spirit and conditioned her to accept her lot.

On some level, she craved what he offered. He knew her secret desires. She could protest and cry all she wanted—he had her fantasies saved on his computer in black and white. Pages and pages of heartfelt emails from Slave Jade to Master John, in which she admitted her submissive tendencies and her desire to serve a real Master.

Well, she had one now. She had Master John, though she didn't know it. Not yet. Perhaps in time he would be able to reveal his secret double identity. But for now he doubted it would be wise. She saw Master John as a gentle and romantic Dom. Not that Gilbert wasn't, but he knew Slave Jade, or rather Lisa, didn't yet appreciate his particular brand of tough love.

And while Master John spouted all that crap about a consensual, loving exchange of power, Gilbert knew better. The only way to properly train a slave was to break her down. To strip her of her vanity and sense of self, outside of serving her lord and master.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled out his cock and massaged it. He felt energized, almost crazed from the feeling of contained power that came from knowing she was in the improvised dungeon, naked and waiting for him. By denying himself a little longer his sense of power grew.

He would go back to her soon. He was giving her time to rethink her refusal. Her body would betray her. Her thirst would overcome her obvious disgust at what he had ordered her to do. How
dare
she refuse to lick his ass? He would teach her to accept it was a sign of submission. Proof that her place was below him in every respect. Her lot was to be subservient to him.

Clearly she didn’t yet appreciate the poetry behind the act, however distasteful it might be to her. She wasn't there yet. He would take her there. He would bring her around. He was, after all, Master John.

~*~

Time had lost its meaning. Lisa had no idea if hours or days had passed. She only knew she was thirsty. Beyond thirsty. Parched. Fortunately he’d removed her cuffs the last time he’d come in, probably aware she was too weak to struggle.

The lock scraped. He entered and stood imperiously before her, his hands on his hips. “You ready to obey, slave?”

Lisa shook her head, her mouth pressed closed. With a shrug, he turned and left the room, though this time he didn’t turn off the light. She waited several minutes, in case he planned to return. When he did not, she rose to a standing position, leaning against a wall until the dizziness passed.

She looked around the windowless room. It couldn't have been more than ten feet by twelve feet—little more than a cell. She tried to open the footlocker that rested against a wall, but it was locked. The room was hot and the air was close. Sweat prickled at her underarms and between her legs and her thirst grew.

He hadn't returned the bowl for her to use, but with bowels tight and knotted, and bladder empty from lack of water, she hadn't had to use it. What she wouldn't do for a drink of water! Just a little water. She was hungry too, but it was just a dull ache in her belly, barely noticed against the parched desert of her throat and mouth, against the tongue dry and sticky in her mouth.

She lay back down, pulling the sheet over her, though it was hot. She drifted into uneasy sleep.

She was startled awake by the touch of something cold on her cheek. She opened her eyes. He held a bottle of water, condensation beading on the plastic. Lisa’s tongue felt fat in her mouth. She licked dry lips, her eyes fixed on the bottle.

She knew this time she would succumb. She had to get water and more food. She needed to regain her strength so she could think clearly. She had to begin to plot a way out of here. She wasn’t about to give up and spend the rest of her life in a dark cell at the mercy of a crazy person.

If only she could get out of the room. Get to her purse, to her cell phone. She could press 911 and hit send. She was vaguely certain a cell phone’s location could be traced by its proximity to a cell tower. It was worth a try, if only there was some way to get to it.

She thought about her computer and the emails no doubt piling up from Master John, as he wondered where she was. Not to mention her friends and her parents. How long had she been here? Were they looking for her?

He’d abducted her late on a Friday night. With a sinking heart, she realized she might not even be discovered missing until she didn't show up on Monday to work. And even then, it might take a day or two before they became truly alarmed. She could well be dead by then.

But this man—it didn't seem as if he wanted to kill her. It was almost as if he got confused sometimes, and seemed to regard her as his lover. As his willing slave girl. What kind of lover kept his beloved chained and then raped her and denied her basic sustenance? He was a monster!

And yet, he also smoothed her hair gently from her face and told her how lovely and fair she was. And how happy they would be together once she was properly trained. The man was clearly insane and entirely deluded if he thought the two of them could ever have a relationship!

Even through the numbing thirst, an idea began to form in Lisa’s head. Perhaps that was the key. She could use his delusions to gain his trust and somehow get the hell out of there. But how?

He may be deluded, but he was also very careful. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know his name or anything about him. She was kept naked and starving in a tiny room with no relief from constant terror, overlain with stultifying boredom.

For when he was gone, there was nothing. Most of the time there was no light. No sound. Nothing but her mattress, on which she tossed and turned, naked and frightened, dozing fitfully, only to jerk awake from a nightmare, or imagined noise, fists clenched, body covered in sweat, breath catching in her throat.

Lisa rolled from the mattress, trying to blank out her mind as he moved to stand in front of her, turned and lowered his jeans and underwear.

With trembling fingers, Lisa spread his ass cheeks, squeezed her eyes shut and licked the puckered opening. Thank god, at least he was clean. Nevertheless, bile rose bitterly in her throat but she swallowed it, forcing herself to remain in position.

He didn’t move away so she licked again. And again, determined to keep on until the bastard was satisfied.

At last he stood up. Lisa sat back on her haunches, wiping her face with the back of one hand, wishing desperately she could brush her teeth. Pulling up his pants, he turned around and smiled broadly.

“That wasn't so hard, was it? I can't believe you were so obstinate! You should worship your master’s body. You must never reject any aspect of him, no matter what.”

He handed her the bottle. Lisa grabbed it and drank deeply, quickly, in case he took it away.

While she drank, he produced a small apple, which he proceeded to cut into segments. He held them out, forcing her to take them from his fingers with her lips. She didn’t care, as long as he let her eat. Obedient as a trained dog, she opened her mouth again and again until the apple was gone. She was still ravenous but didn’t dare ask for more.

Smiling with benign approval, he said, “I’m going to give you another reward. How about a nice hot shower? Because, to tell you the truth, you stink.”

Lisa flushed with shame and rage. How dare he! After he had put his ass in her face, to tell her she stank. Yet the mention of such a possibility made Lisa's skin crawl, as she realized how itchy and filthy she was, covered in her own sweat and his nasty secretions. Her hair felt greasy and dirty, and her scalp itched at the thought of a good washing.