When Carl walked into her life, DeeDee had thought he’d be like the others. Yet he turned out to be a quiet Dom. His approach had been much like Master Stephen’s—take it slow, use it as a sexual stimulant, and above all, have fun. She had trusted Carl and would’ve gladly continued the experiment if he hadn’t gotten cold feet.
But Turk? He was entirely different. DeeDee couldn’t understand why her former master had thought she needed to be under the control of a man like Turk. She felt betrayed. Turk didn’t love her as Stephen had. She was a mere collectible. A valuable item to be trained, then sold.
At least Turk hadn’t raped her. Yet. He appeared to have no sexual interest in her, yet he wanted to make sure she’d offer herself to whomever he chose. So far, she’d endured only punishments meant to break her spirit. She knew that the time would come soon when she would be forced to satisfy a man by fucking him. She dreaded that encounter. She also knew, when the time came, she would obey without question. In a perverse way, this was exactly what she’d been trained to do. The game was becoming reality.
She wondered what had happened to Carl. She had gathered that he had been turned over to Gloria for “training”, but that could’ve been a euphemism for murder. The last she had seen of her boyfriend was when they wheeled him out in a large steamer trunk, neatly packed in. She’d noticed several breathing holes, but that meant little. They would be ideal for letting water in, for example, had they stopped at the nearest bridge to dump him over.
DeeDee tried not to think about things like that. She still had hope, however forlorn, that he might return for her. He had seemed to say otherwise, but she suspected he had been talking just for Turk’s benefit. She couldn’t imagine Carl would just abandon her—would he? No, if he can, he’ll be back, she decided. Unless he’s already dead.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening at the top of the stairs. She looked over, waiting with expectation and dread. Master Turk came thumping down the stairs, followed, as usual, by a nude Crystal. He padded softly across the carpet to stand outside her cell. He put a large key in the lock as he spoke.
“Good afternoon, my pet. I apologize for not appearing earlier. I’ve been remiss in your training.”
He stepped back and allowed her to exit. Crystal stood to one side. DeeDee followed Turk to the center of the room. When he turned back to her, she dropped down to her knees without a word, her legs apart, eyes down.
“So well-trained. I like that. I know Master Stephen awakened the slave within you, which is why you are here today. But he wasn’t a true master. More of a dilettante, I’d say. Which was fine as far as it goes, but you need to experience the true meaning of slavery. You need to give yourself over completely to your master.”
As DeeDee listened, a chill settled around her heart. She was well on her way to becoming a true slut, ready to be used and abused by men. Her life with Carl—or Stephen for that matter—would seem like a harmless parlor game compared to the life she was about to live. Her only hope was that she would be bought by a man with some kindness in him. It was a slim hope, but it was all she had.
He signaled for her to rise, then escorted her to the post in the center of the room. DeeDee knew what this meant. She didn’t know what she had done wrong. Why was he treating her this way? Hadn’t she already shown her obedience?
As he slipped her delicate hands into the manacles, he whispered, “Do not fret, my pet. You are too valuable to be permanently damaged. But you need to explore your limits before you can be called a true sex slave.”
He turned her to face the post, then stepped back and nodded at Crystal. She flipped a switch, causing the steel cable connected to the manacles to rise up toward a pulley at the top of the post. In seconds, DeeDee found herself on her tiptoes. The whine of the winch stopped then reversed, giving her a little more footing. Her naked breasts brushed the smooth surface of the post, polished, no doubt, by the oils and tears of countless slaves before her. She felt her nipples extend in fear, the gold rings seemed to burn in them.
She looked over her shoulder as Turk retrieved a flat strap from the wall. She shuddered to think he planned to use it on her. “Please, Master,” she begged. “I’ll be good.”
Turk ignored her. He positioned himself, then reared back and struck her. The strap slapped against her pale bottom, causing a flash of pain. She cried out. In seconds, the pain faded, leaving only a heat that spread throughout her back and loins. He struck her again and again, each time moving the target from her hips down to her thighs.
DeeDee was surprised at her reaction. With each blow, she cried out from the sudden pain, but as it faded, she felt an incredible heat that seemed to concentrate on her pussy. She couldn’t understand it.
Turk stopped after six blows and returned the strap to its position on the wall. He approached the sobbing woman and caressed her back and shoulders, careful not to touch her tender ass.
“There, my sweet. Sometimes, a slave needs a beating. Not for anything you did, but to show you your place in this world. I know that’s something your former master failed to do regularly.”
He turned for a moment and DeeDee heard the winch and felt her arms relaxing. When her hands were about chest-high, the winch stopped. Turk handed her an index card, which she couldn’t read at first because tears clouded her eyes.
“Relax, my dear. Wipe away your tears. When you can see, I want you to read this card aloud.” DeeDee saw Crystal approach with a small object. When she neared, DeeDee could tell it was a tape recorder. She blinked away her tears, then began reading the card.
“I am a slave. My body, my mouth, my cunt and my ass belong to my Master or Mistress. I exist only to give them pleasure. If I fail to instantly obey any command, I must be punished. If my master wishes to punish me for any reason or for no reason at all, it is my duty to bear it. Use me, Master. Use me, Mistress. I beg you.”
Though she was frightened, DeeDee read the words without a slip the first time. Turk congratulated her. He unlocked her wrists. “Service me,” he barked.
DeeDee dropped to her knees on the carpet and fumbled to unzip her master’s pants. She was careful not to snag the bulging penis within on the edge of the zipper as she freed it. Then she opened her mouth to accept the monster and tried to bring him pleasure. She had no other thoughts in her mind. Her sore ass and thighs reminded her to obey. It took her several minutes, but she finally brought him to a climax. She managed to swallow his seed, though it tasted bitter in her mouth.
Later, when they put her back in her cell, Crystal set up the tape recorder just outside and attached it to speakers. The tape played in a loop, so she could hear her own words over and over, mocking her, defining her: “I am a slave. My body, my mouth, my cunt and my ass belong to my Master or Mistress…”
Chapter Eighteen
Carl stood against the post, his hands manacled behind it, a leather strap holding his waist against the rough surface. His feet were chained to the base as well, keeping him helpless. He stared at Gloria, as if he could burn a hole in her. For the moment, he ignored Sven, standing just behind her.
She laughed lightly, as if amused by his anger. “Tut, tut, my slave,” she said, approaching him and tapping his cheek with the riding crop. “You must learn to cooperate with your master or mistress.”
She caught the narrowing of his eyes. “Oh, yes. You may be purchased by a master. We have quite a need in San Francisco for well-trained male slaves, if you know what I mean.” She giggled. “But I can see it in your eyes, ‘Oh, Mistresses, I don’t swing that way’,” she mocked him with a high-pitched voice. “You’d be surprised what my slaves can get used to. Heck, you might even enjoy it.”