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Ficta, part 5 of 5
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
(Ficta, part 5 of 5)
She passed beyond tears, grunting faintly only because some
blows pushed the air past her vocal cords. All of her awareness
compacted to the immediate room. Her mind filled with the
perfection of the connection between swinging hardwood rod and
her flesh. Each swing was a need, and that need was fulfilled by
her soft body accepting and intercepting the motion, stilling it
and absorbing it. Each volume of her body was a need, and the
force of each impact dispersing deep throughout her muscle was a
fulfillment.
She did not realize when he stopped, for her body hurt so.
But it was the jingling of the keys and he reached up and
unlocked her that alerted her to the end of the ordeal. The
manacles fell from the chain and she collapsed into his arms. He
bore her down to the pallet, and cradled her in his arms. He
smiled at her.
``See,'' he said stroking her throat, ``You no longer
gag.'' She nodded faintly, her head resting against his chest. He
ran his hands over her bruising body. Her breath wheezed in and
out of her constricted air passage, but it no longer distressed
her.
He pulled the tape from her mouth. Then he pulled the damp
wadded cloth from her mouth. She gagged a bit as he drew the
last of it from her upper esophagus. He massaged her neck around
the collar, then sat her up. He ran a short chain though the
loop about her waist, and fastened each end to a wrist manacle.
He stood and donned his white robe; holding her leash, and said,
``Come with me.''
He stopped in the hall to open a closet and get a pink
shift for her to wear. It was light and pleasant against her
skin. Then he lead her to the kitchen. It seemed strange to be
in this place again while in chains, but strangenesses were no
longer her concern. He rummaged in the refrigerator, and put a
handful of vegetables on the counter. He leashed her to the
counter. He got a knife, a parer and a cutting board.
``Wash, skin and chop these,'' he instructed. She went to
her task with a will. Her motions were clean and efficient, and
she was capable with the knife; but she found the limits on the
motion of her hands to make her work challenging. She did not
let it deter her. He prepared meat and when they were done, he
began cooking it, and she set the kitchen table. Together they
worked.
When it was done, they brought the food to the table -- her
chain reaching that far where it was fastened, and sat to eat.
She found his cooking very pleasing, and ate with a relish and a
gratitude she could not remember ever experiencing before. When
she had cleared her plate, she realized that her Master was still
eating. Her mind reeled for a moment: had she erred? He laughed
softly at her like one laughs at the timidity of a child. He
picked a slice of carrot from his plate and held it forth to her.
She took it delicately in her teeth, and chewed it slowly and
thoroughly; it hurt her abuse throat a little as she swallowed.
She licked his fingers clean.
He laughed merrily, and slapped his thigh in summons. She
fell to her knees at his side, and as he ate he would
occasionally feed her from his hand. When he was done, he had
her lick the dishes clean; she closed her eyes and hummed with
pleasure as she did. They finished cleaning in a more ordinary
manner, with a dishwasher, and put everything away.
He brought her back into the further reaches of the house,
and they came to his bedroom. He stripped her of all but her
manacles and collar. He laid her down in his bed and locked her
leash to the headboard. He laid down beside her, and pulled the
covers over them. He took her in his arms, pulling her back to
his chest, and curling his knees against the backs of hers.
``Did you like that?''
``Yes, Master.''
``Would you like to do that every day?''
She thought about the question for a moment.
``I would like to feel like that every day, but I would be
afraid I would become acclimated to it, Master, if it were always
the same.''
``I have many, many ordeals to put you through, dearest.
Go to sleep now, and tomorrow there will be new acts to endure.''
He kissed her behind her ear, and with his face buried in her
tresses, she fell into a peaceful slumber.
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