Authors: Roxy Harte
“You will be what I want you to be. If I say that you are my
dog, you will be my dog. If I call you my cunt or bitch or whore, you will be
those things.”
Yes, yes. I’m all those things.
I am the dirt
under your boot.
“On your hands and knees!”
She pushes the prodder between my pussy lips and I see
stars. I scream. I can’t help it. Of course it doesn’t sound like a scream, it
sounds more like the whelp of an injured animal, but it’s the only sound I’m
capable of making.
I should be worried about my vocal cords but I’m not. I can
only think about how it felt to feel the jolt of electricity feed through my
pussy. Sharp, immediate pain. A ten.
I want it again!
I roll over onto my hands and knees, hoping she will zap me
again.
Farris crouches in front of me, showing me that he is
holding a length of rope. “Doctor Psycho wants to make certain you have an
experience you won’t forget. So we’re pulling out all the bells and whistles
for you. Does that make you feel special?”
The question takes me by surprise. Why would I feel special?
He ties me with the rope, arms behind my back, knees
together, ankles together. I can’t get onto my hands and knees now. All I can
do is roll around on the ground like a worm. Farris kneels beside me. He leans
over me, whispering in my ear, “When’s the last time you had a good spanking?”
The question brings to mind the senator. He’d given me a
spanking that had made me believe he had even more up his sleeve…
Farris slaps my bare ass. “Lift your ass in the air.”
I manage to wiggle onto my knees and lift my ass. Farris’s
hand falls again and again. I lift my ass higher and arch my back deeper,
begging with body language for more and more. I’m not left disappointed. He
gives me a spanking that makes me forget anything I’ve ever had previously. My
cheeks sting and I can imagine them flaming red.
He caresses what feels like a raised welt. “This is going to
leave you with a nice bruise.”
I shrug. I’ve been bruised before.
He touches lower, his fingertips brushing lightly over my
labia. “No, no. Please just hurt me.”
“But you’re so wet.”
“Please.”
He stands and walks away. I’m both surprised and relieved
that he didn’t try to stroke away the pain with pleasure.
Morgana tosses an electrical prod on my left and a vibrator
on my right. “Choose.”
I angle my body toward the prodder. It is an easy choice.
“Pain it is.” She picks up the tool, different than the one
she’d used previously, and touches it to the back of my thigh. It isn’t a quick
zap that I can jerk away from. She draws a line down my leg that makes me feel
cut. I roll away after I’ve taken as much as I can of the pain but she follows
my motion, drawing a second line down the front of my thigh. I cry out and she
stops.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“Then you better develop some manners very quickly. Thank me
for the pain I’m giving you.” She touches the new prodder to the inside of my
thigh.
“Ooohhh.” I cry out. “Thank you, Mistress.”
She touches the tip to my mons.
“Thank you, Mistesss.”
She touches my labia.
“Thank you, Mistress.”
She touches the hood covering my clit and I see stars. The
pain is more than I could have ever begged for. “T-thank y-you, M-mistress.”
Using the toe of her boot, she pushes me over onto my
stomach. I don’t know what to expect, and I don’t care what she does to me as
long as it hurts.
I watch Farris hand her a metal dildo-shaped prodder. She
asks, “Have you ever been fucked with electricity?”
I’m terrified. “No.”
She pushes the cold metal into me and pulls it out. It
doesn’t hurt, and I’m disappointed. She fucks me with it, thrusting in and out,
in and out.
I growl. “No pleasure.”
She laughs and keeps fucking me.
I can feel the pleasure building. It doesn’t take much, I’m
so damn close, and just as my pleasure crests she pulls the dildo all the way
out of me. My orgasm doesn’t happen. I’m not disappointed. My body is, but I’m
not.
She pushes the dildo back inside me and the difference is
intense pain. I try to squirm away from it. The electrified dildo robs me of
all cognitive thought. My body wants to escape the pain as she fucks me with
it. I make sounds I’ve never made in my life.
Farris lends a helping hand by touching the vibrator to my
clit.
Pain and pleasure collide.
“Beg me to let you come,” Mistress Morgana commands.
“No. I don’t want to come.”
My body immediately rebels and I can feel my pleasure
rising.
No, no, no!
“Beg, bitch.”
I try to block out everything except the glorious pain
arching my back and for a moment it works, but then I realize I’m babbling
incoherently. “Please, please, please.”
“Please what?”
“Please let me come, Mistress. Please?”
“Not yet,” she answers.
Farris jerks away the vibrator.
The pain in my pussy seems to double, and I try to escape
but there is no escape.
“Double your pleasure?” she asks, and I don’t realize what
she’s talking about until the butt plug slides in. It vibrates but does nothing
to take my mind off the electricity she’s fucking me with.
“Stick out your tongue,” Farris commands.
I don’t know how I follow the command but I do. He taps my
tongue with a glowing purple bulb that zaps me.
“Ahhh.”
All of my holes are being zapped at different intervals.
I can’t take much more.
“Please, Mistress. Ah-ah-ahhh. Please.”
“You think an orgasm will end this torture?”
I don’t know, I don’t care, I only know something has to
give.
“Please, Mistress.”
“Give her what she thinks she wants,” Morgana tells Farris.
He touches the vibrator to my clit and my body responds,
shuddering violently as an orgasm crashes over my body. As the pleasure fades
the pain seems worse and harder to bear.
“Oh. God. Ohhh!” I think I will die from this.
Farris hasn’t pulled away the vibrator, and the pleasure my
clit was feeling is not good now…it hurts…it’s too much…too damn much. I think
I tell them that. “Stop, stop, stop. Please!”
Another orgasm crashes over my body, and another.
I can’t think.
I can’t escape the pain.
I can’t escape the pleasure.
I’m suddenly crying, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m one of
those people.”
“What people?”
“I need this. I need
this
.”
Everything stops. The pain. The pleasure. Farris and Morgana
both hold me as I sob. “I want to be hurt.”
“I didn’t think there was any doubt about that.”
“I thought I only wanted punished.”
My epiphany is almost as painful as my confrontation with
God, except I’m not left dying. I’m left having to accept the truth that I am
just like the woman I’d found in the cage. She’d begged someone, maybe my
parents, maybe one of my parents’ clients, to hurt her. She’d needed
this
.
My father said her death was an accident.
I spent my whole life believing my parents were monsters who
needed to be jailed and I’d interfered with justice by remaining silent. I owed
that woman my life. That’s what I’d thought. But my dying wouldn’t bring her
back.
I don’t want to die.
I want to live…if only to experience this again and
again…and again.
Maybe my psyche was warped by that woman, or by being raised
in that household. Maybe I wouldn’t be a sexual deviant if I hadn’t had the
experiences I’ve had…but does any of that matter?
* * * * *
I am strapped to a wooden chair, facing the back of it.
Farris flogs my back.
Morgana’s right hand slides smoothly down the center of my
stomach to the juncture of my thighs, her fingers teasing my clit. My head
drops back and I am sucked into the brilliant blue sky. No clouds. When did it
become morning?
Farris rearranges my head so that I am again facing Morgana
as her fingers slide through my slick folds and set up a pleasant rhythm.
Familiar eddies of need swirl inside my womb. Spikes of pleasure quickly become
waves, but they are spaced too far apart to bring me any satisfaction.
“Oh God, please, harder,” I beg, but my pleas fall on deaf
ears, both sadists seeming intent to prolong this insane agony. I can
anticipate the stingy blows, anticipate the waves—I rub into the latter—until
finally, release is close at hand. “Please let me come. Oh Mistress, please let
me come.”
I’m not fighting the pleasure anymore. I want it as
desperately as I want the pain.
Morgana’s tempo increases with the same rate as the stingy
blows, more painful blows that take some of the edge off the pleasure waves. I
cry out with each strike, a lascivious panting wail that is all hunger and
need. I am crying and begging and pleading when Morgana finally presses her
lips close to my ear. “Tell me you want to live.”
“I want to live.”
“No more strangers.”
“No more. I promise.”
“There are so many experienced players who can give you what
you need.”
“Yes,” I agree.
“Come now, Gigi. Come so hard you soak this chair.”
* * * * *
It seems an eternity later that I am wrapped in a warm
blanket, wrapped in George’s arms, looking over the city. It is beautiful from
up here. The sky is such a brilliant shade of blue. I can’t remember the last time
I noticed the sky.
“When did Mistress Morgana and Master Farris leave me?”
“A while ago.”
“I must have slept.”
“For a little while. Did you enjoy Farris and Morgana?”
I hug George’s face in my hands. “Thank you for convincing
me to come here.”
“So no more chat rooms and strangers?”
“Never again.” Even as I promise, I know I’m lying. Was
Morgana and Farris a good time? Hell, yes. Would I like to do it again? Is now
too soon? But the scene was lacking. The outcome was known. The two were
strangers this time, but next time they won’t be, and if they didn’t maim or
kill me this time, it’s a fairly good assumption nothing bad will happen next
time, and honestly, that kills some of the joy. George doesn’t need to know
that.
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“Why didn’t you do the scene?”
George flushes, seeming embarrassed. “I guess I didn’t want
to cross a line.”
“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“But
this
isn’t our relationship.”
“Could it be? Can you ever see yourself Mastering me?” I
hold my breath, waiting for his answer. It seems like I’m the young girl again.
I want him so desperately. I want him to love me. I want him to need me as much
as I’ve needed him.
Leaning forward, he kisses me tenderly on the lips and I
don’t know if he is saying yes or no. I want to ask him to clarify but I’m too
afraid of the answer. When he would have pulled away, I move closer, pressing
my lips against his, adding tongue, and I’m thrilled when he returns the
kiss—but it doesn’t last. “I can’t make a commitment to you.”
“I don’t need a commitment,” I say.
“Yes, you do. You need someone to love you unconditionally.
You need someone to share this dark world with. I can’t be that person.”
“Why?” I hate showing weakness, but when a tear slides down
my cheek I don’t try to stop it. “Are you just not attracted to me?”
“You are the most beautiful, fascinating woman I’ve ever
met.”
“So you do want me?”
“It’s not a matter of whether I want you or not. I can’t—”
“Are you afraid of my father? I’m an adult now. He can’t
tell me who I can or can’t see.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Because you have a girlfriend?”
“Gigi—”
I cut off his argument with a kiss. “Please, George.”
“I’ll take you home.” He stands, leaving me to catch my own
weight and, tangled in the blankets I end up falling back against the gravel.
I mutter, “Thanks,” under my breath but I’m mad. I didn’t
like rejection when I was a teen and it doesn’t sting any less now.
Damn it.
He waits for me by the door. I drop the blanket, standing
nude under the bright sun of early morning. He turns his back to me. Well, I
guess that’s it. He just doesn’t want me. George is the only man I’ve ever been
naked in front of who resolutely wanted nothing to do with having sex with me.
Sullenly, I dress.
“Ready,” I say as I come up behind him. He opens the door
for me without looking at me and we descend the single flight of stairs to the
first landing. I expect to take the elevator the rest of the way down. He
doesn’t. We continue down four more flights of stairs and I’m winded and even more
pissed off when we finally exit the building.
He heads for his car. I can see it in the employees’ parking
lot. I head for the corner, intent on hailing a taxi.
“What are you doing?” he demands.
“I’m going home. To my home.”
He gives me a hard look.
“There isn’t any point in going to your place. I appreciate
the offer, but—”
“If I’m not going to fuck you there’s no point?”
“Pretty much.”
“So much for being friends.”
“Were we ever friends, George?”
“I thought we were.”
“You wanted to fix me then and you still want to fix me. Did
you ever consider fucking me might be the real fix I need?”
He doesn’t comment.
“Maybe I’m just unfixable.”
“Can we talk about this in the car?” He walks away, heading
to his car without giving me a chance to answer.
I think about it all of two seconds, trying to decide if
being stubborn is worth it, and it dawns on me that George is one of the only
people I’ve ever met who doesn’t give me my way. I’m a spoiled rich girl and as
much as I buck the system, I like the perks. I follow him to his car and climb
into the passenger seat when he opens the door. Besides, I don’t have my purse
or any cash on me to pay for a taxi anyway.