Taken – Part 5
It was morning and I knew that Marc was awake. The cacophony of the birds was at its peak. I was spooned into Marc with my back towards him. I felt him breathing. His right arm was over my side and his hand was caressing my breasts and abdomen. I did not dare to move.
The last twenty-four hours had been deeply upsetting. He had made me feel vulnerable like I had never even felt at the Corporation. The way he had kept me exposed and made me express my desire for him even though he had treated me like an animal. Now the way I was wrapped into him. Blindfolded as I was, I could do nothing. I was his. To my dismay, it felt right. Part of me wanted to scream, oppose, hit out at him, the other part wanted to surrender and preserve the mesmerizing sense of safety forever.
He took his time. Like always he seemed comfortable with being silent. I was close to breaking the spell and turning towards him when he kissed me on my shoulder. I sensed him taking something from the bedside table, the clicking sound of metal. He pulled my right arm behind my back and cuffed it.
“Give me your other arm.”
For a moment I wanted to resist however his presence overruled any such thought. I moved my left arm to my back and as I heard the racketing sound of the handcuffs and felt the cold steel and his warm hands, I almost had an orgasm. He put a second pair of cuffs around my ankles, let his hand glide along my body and kissed me on my ear. Five minutes later he was gone for his morning exercise, not another word.
I pulled a couple of times on the cuffs and then let it be. I would not go anywhere and lying on my side was about as comfortable as I could get. I was bewildered. Would he treat me differently now that I had given him what he wanted? And how would I deal with it if he did or did not?
I had no answer. On one hand, I wanted nothing more than being accepted and treated like a human being again, with my own dreams and will, and my own capable hands and brain even if I could no longer talk. On the other hand, I was scared to move up as his girlfriend and not really being it. I was not here on my own free will. I was a prisoner, his property. Independent of his treatment, it would still be the same.
But then where would I go if he let me walk out of here? I had asked the question many times. Given my appearance what would I do? Hide? How would I earn my living? Who would give me a job? And how many men would hunt me? I wouldn't be safe anywhere. And then there was still the Corporation who saw the outstanding invoice in me.
I was almost glad about being cuffed and chained up, monitored for escape by the security system, blindfolded. It prevented me from having to make a decision. Even more, the blindfold protected me from the humiliation of having given in to Marc as his sex toy. He gave me no choice and a blindfold to hide, and it made me feel free and safe.
When he returned, he took the safety away. He sat down next to me, unlocked the straps of the blindfold and gently removed the tape.
I tried to remember how long I had been without sight but it disappeared into nothing when the light hit my eyes. I felt him observing me. My entire body yearned for him to touch me, yet I could not bring myself to look into his face. And while I tried to adjust to the light, I only felt one big ache, to get back into the darkness.
After removing the cuffs on my feet, he took me to the bathroom and let me use the toilet. Strangely, while sitting there I was much more embarrassed than I had ever been when peeing next to him into the grass, even more so when he cleaned me. I looked away and turned red across all four cheeks.
He undressed and maneuvered me into the shower. I kept my eyes down. I saw his arousal. His strong hands that began washing me, massaged my nipples and went between my legs. I was paralyzed, not able to oppose, not able to have one coherent thought. I belonged to him, my body did, my sex did and my soul wanted to be yet I felt an insurmountable distance between us.
His voice was soft and dragged me into the presence. He had finished toweling me dry. I obeyed and he fitted me with the belt.
“From now on, I give you a choice. You can spend the day either on the mattress and be fed through the tube, or you stay with me for the day and you eat from your bowl. Either way, I let you use the toilet, and I guess you are over the ring gag and the muzzle. So what is it today?”
My mind was blank. I was scared of the changes and their implications, so chose to stay. He took me to the bedroom, locked me to the wall then removed the cuffs.
“If you touch that feeding tube, you are back to square one, understood?” I nodded.
He returned an hour later with a big fat syringe and plastic bag full of an ugly looking gooey substance, my processed breakfast. He pumped it through the feeding tube, followed by two syringes of water. I was already sorry that I had decided to stay and was glad when he pulled out his cock. I made every effort to give him my best. He did not say anything. When I finished cleaning him up, I mustered the courage to look into his face. Like a fleeting shadow, I saw a smile. I blushed, looked down and was relieved when he left.
I spent the day in turmoil. He very obviously rewarded me for good behavior but then the reward was no more than what should be due to any human being anyway. So, while one part of me wanted to please him, the other was irked to have to please him to further move up. It also irked me to be given the choice of being bored out of my wits or eat like a dog and be with him.
And, the "being with him" was tugging on me. I felt like a schoolgirl who was in love for the first time, embarrassed to admit, red over both ears, and only thinking about one thing, him.
I was ready to disappear into a mouse hole when he came at lunchtime to take me to the toilet and give me water, all done with only a few commands. “Sit down; Keep still.” I was torn apart by my feelings and I was trembling when I gave him another blowjob. Why was I doing this and why was I attracted by him? I did it badly and was looking down the moment he was done. I did not want to see his reaction.
I was wondering what to do the next day. Go with him? Stay? I was not able to make up my mind. What had happened to me? I was a grown woman and he kept me chained to the wall. I was addicted to him, his smell, his touch, his voice, his eyes; yet I was no more than a sex toy to him. The afternoon dragged on. I was watching the door, listened for his steps, and simultaneously wanted and feared him to come.
It was evening when he returned. He fed me, cuffed my hands behind my back, removed the belt and took me into the bathtub where he played with me for an eternity. His fingers, tongue and teeth explored every part of my body. He was entirely focused on me as if nothing else existed. However he did not talk to me. His cock was stiff and I became so horny, my crotch was seeking him out like a magnet but it only yielded a chuckle.
He took hold of my chin, forced me to look at him and said, “You give me an eight or a nine and I will be inside you for the whole night.”
He took me over to the bed where he released me from the cuffs and placed me between his legs. I told myself to make him pay, massaged him with my tongue and lips and, for the first time, teased him with my teeth. I dragged it out as long as I could. His groan told me that I succeeded. Once he was clean, he ordered me to expose, then growled, “Don't you dare move!” He was all over me, I was screaming for him to come inside me and when he did, I never felt him slipping out again.
It took me three more days and nights to face the truth. In the end, I could no longer stand to be away from him, so I nodded when he asked me whether I wanted to come along for the day.
We did not make it past breakfast, instead went straight back to bed and spent the following hours exploring each other. He removed the belt but kept my arms cuffed, which only left me with my mouth but I was determined to not give in to the disadvantage.
Later I was lying on his chest, my legs straddling one of his legs. We were both exhausted. I felt him studying me and looked up at him. He touched my face, outlining the markings, my lips. I once again became conscious about my strange appearance but saw his undeniable admiration. He looked into my eyes.
“You are the most beautiful woman in this world.”
I looked down at myself. By now I knew every spot on my arms, sides and legs. I looked at my big white breasts, the pink ringed nipples rising from the spotted aureoles, the smudged line leading down between my breasts to the abdomen. I shivered. He pulled my chin up.
“Look into my eyes.” They were very dark.
“You know that you and I could take this further. It all depends on you.”
I was confused. What did he mean? He had told me that being his sex toy was my main purpose in this house. Fortunately he was actually very good at it himself, so not much complaint in that department. But how did he expect me to express what I wanted? And did he really want to know? I doubted it. So far it had only been him who had told me what to do. Sadness was creeping up and I looked away.
Roger had to do most of the work for the next few days. At least at the sexual level, Marc and I were becoming close to addicted to each other. Although he could come like a volcano, he was always gentle and even though I was supposed to be his sex toy, I sometimes thought he gave me more pleasure than he took. Also, he never minded me determining the pace in the game although there were other areas where he gave me absolute no leeway, like when and how I had to kneel.
After two days he asked whether I still needed the feeding tube. I shook my head. The rest of the routine stayed the same. I never left his room without being cuffed and leashed. Breakfast and dinner were on my knees and with the elbows pulled together. He told me when I could eat. After a couple of days, my vagina began to drip while waiting for him to tell me that I could eat. He saw it, hunched down and touched my wetness. He smiled then showed his hand to Roger.
I was no expert in b/d but I knew what it meant. My body had accepted him as my master. I was embarrassed. Afterwards, he had no qualms having me kneeling next to him, while he ate lunch and I got nothing. The response of my body was the same while my brain was in turmoil. I was close to becoming a split personality.
It did not help that he hardly talked to me. It was always about what he expected me to do, now sometimes a comment when he was pleased. He never talked about how he felt nor did he give me any possibility to communicate my thoughts. We were two strangers having marvelous sex with each other and if I looked at my body and our level of communication, we could have been from different planets.
He had me wearing the belt whenever I was on my mattress and not cuffed. The reason was obvious. He did not want me to play with myself even though he had never told me so.
One morning I was in his bed and awake earlier than he was. No belt, no cuffs. He had a light sleep and from experience, I knew that if I tried to get up, he would wake up. I felt like challenging him. More so, I was torn apart by my conflicting feelings and I wanted him to feel something similar. So, I played with the clit ring. Within a couple of minutes I achieved my first orgasm. He was waking up. I had my back towards him. He turned me around. I continued stimulating myself but kept my eyes closed. I did not want him to see that I was afraid.
He grabbed my hand then pulled sharply on the clit ring. I gasped. His hand went between my legs. He felt my wetness. Within seconds he was straddling me, his knees pinning down my arms. He took my jaw in a painful grip then pulled on the clit again.
“Open your eyes.”
When I did, it was with defiance.
“Why are you doing this? I doubt you got deficient on sexual pleasures.” His voice was sharp.
I only looked at him.
“I told you that I would treat you depending on how you behave. If you want to be stimulated like this, so be it.” He was angry.
He roughly turned me on my belly and handcuffed me then attached a small chain to the clit ring. He got dressed into sweats.
“Let's go for a run.”
I was fighting him. He attached the leash to the nose ring and dragged me outside and alongside him, running. My breasts began to hurt immediately. The clit chain took longer but soon I could hardly walk anymore, the tugs merciless. Arousal turned to pain and still he did not relent until I screamed.
He stopped. We were at the edge of a forest, looking down to the sea. A tree was lying on the ground. He sat down and ordered me to kneel in front of him. I obeyed, kept my eyes down. I was trembling.
“So what is it? Do you want to go back to square one?”
I shook my head.
“Then why do you behave like this?”
What should I tell him? I pulled on my cuffs and shook my head. I tried to get my teeth on the leash. He let it happen, another no.
“You want to leave?”
I thought about it for a long time and very slowly shook my head. With an effort, I looked into his eyes, scared about his potential reactions. However he seemed to contemplate my responses. His anger was gone.
“You know that your body is telling me a different story?”
First it was just tears trickling down my face. I tried to suppress the sobs rising in my throat but finally I gave in to my emotions. I put my head to the ground, crying silently. My entire world seemed like a prison. I could not change what they had done to me. There was no life to go to anymore. And here I was with Marc who I was attracted to sexually and beyond but I could not express the 'beyond'. I felt forced into being with him but still I wanted it. I could not talk, nor express my individuality, who I was, what I felt, dreams that are unlikely to ever be lived. And in all of that, he had confronted me with the strange world of submission and I increasingly wanted to submit to him but was afraid of where this was going, could not distinguish whether I would do it if I were a free person or it was just the result of my time at the Corporation, him now fucking with my mind and giving me no choice.
As I was plowing through my turmoil, he sat down on the ground next to me. He gently pulled me into his lap and it further opened the floodgates. I did not want to cry but even that I could no longer control.
I wished he could understand. But how could he? He had not been exposed to the days and weeks of humiliation, degradation and extreme fear at the Corporation, being prepared for what I now was to him, a sex toy, except that he had dropped that strange remark of taking it further and I did not feel to have the freedom or knowledge how to take this further without expressing who I was. Worse, I increasingly doubted to know who I really was.
It took me a long time to calm down. He had positioned me with my back towards him, so I was looking down at the sea. I saw that the heavy clouds from the night were slowly dissolving in the sun's rays. I felt his warmth around me.
“Are you okay?”
As I turned my head, I realized that the leash was gone. I looked up at him, studied him. His simple question and the way he was looking at me made me understand that he did see a person behind all the spots. I nodded ever so slightly, closed my eyes and dug myself further into him. He reciprocated by pulling me closer. I felt his kiss where a tear was still hanging on my cheek.
He removed the cuffs and the clit chain, and for the first time we went beyond the animalistic sex of the past days and made love. The grass was wet but we did not care, only experienced and responded to each other, both of us seeking and wanting the person that was in each of our bodies. He entered me, I wrapped my arms and legs around him, bit into his shoulder, tasted him, wanted more of him, felt him filling me, his breath, his sweat and finally his ejaculation.
While we were both recovering, I felt his gaze on me. I looked into his eyes, saw the smile in them and something that had not been there before – an openness and an expression that almost looked like relief. Joy surged through my body like an orgasm. I smiled and felt myself blushing. He chuckled.
“So, it seems we are indeed taking this further.” I was wondering whether he could read my mind. I nodded. His smile deepened.
“I hope you know that you make me very happy.”
An audible noise rose from his stomach.
“Are you hungry?” I nodded then looked down at us and laughed. We were both caked in grass and mud. We indeed had some other needs to address.
As he pulled up his boxers and sweat pants, I was looking at the cuffs and the leash, which were lying in the grass. He picked them up, took my hand and we walked back to the house.
In the shower, he washed me then gave me the sponge to do the same to him. I took all my time, starting from his shoulders, chest and back and slowly working my way downward. I outlined every muscle on his abdomen. I washed his scrotum but did not touch his cock (which was rapidly becoming hard), instead continued with his legs while deliberately kneeling in front of him. Again I outlined every muscle. When I was done, I put the sponge aside and took him in my mouth. He was very hard so I moved up slowly, flicking my tongue every so slightly, stimulating him only with my throat and tickling his scrotum. I heard him groaning, felt the shiver, then the hot semen.
I kept sucking until he was empty then cleaned his shaft with my tongue. As I finished, I spread my legs, crossed my wrists behind my back and looked down. For the first time I was willingly submitting to him but the urge to do so has been pounding in me ever since I had seen those cuffs lying in the grass.
He turned the shower off and hunched down in front of me. I was trembling but the turmoil was gone.
“So, you do want this?”
I nodded. He began to laugh.
After a while he pulled me up.
“I hope you don't mind eating breakfast with me at the table. I would really like that.”
Well, I did not mind either! Tonio was obviously surprised when he saw me sitting at the table.
“Are we making here some changes?” He chuckled and I turned red.
I was swearing at my self-consciousness that seemed to explode every time Marc did make a change. Why did I feel embarrassed to sit at the table? Marc got me out of my predicament and asked what I wanted to eat. I made it simple and opted for what Tonio had placed in front of him, English breakfast. Then I looked over to the sideboard and the coffee pot.
It seemed I made myself understood and a few minutes later I dug in even though my hand was still trembling. I was thinking back over the time of terror at the Corporation, the insecurity while with Tom then the hard start with Marc. This was the first time I considered that I might have a future.
I looked over to Marc and saw that he was studying me. He got up, went to the sideboard and returned with paper and pen.
“I would like to know your name. If you no longer feel comfortable with your name, choose another one by which I can call you.”
I was surprised. He must have contemplated how I felt about the split with my former life, which had been cemented by the Corporation. I contemplated the two options before picking up the pen. Even though I could never return to my old life, my own name symbolized who I was and more than anything else acknowledged my human nature, personality and individuality. I wanted it to stay with me.
Neither Tom nor Marc had ever given me the opportunity to read or write, so it was only when I was holding the pen that I realized that I no longer knew how to write. Panic rose in me. I began to sweat. My name was flashing in my brain. There was the picture, I tried to copy it. Like a shadow, the picture was there and gone again. I had no idea how to do it.
I felt like going mad, the oxygen drawn away from me. Whatever the Corporation had done to my brain, they had taken away all ways to communicate. I was isolated.
Marc had seen my struggles and was hunching down next to me.
“I assume you previously knew how to write?”
I tried hard to keep my tears back and nodded. Before I could dwell longer on what it meant, he said, “Let's try something different. I go through the alphabet. You tell me when to stop.”
He rapidly figured out the four letters.
“Alix, your name is Alix?” In spite of the fright of the last minutes, I smiled. Yes, my name was Alix.
“Is that your real name?” I nodded again. I was looking back at the pen and the paper.
Marc took the newspaper from the sideboard and placed it in front of me. I knew those were letters and words but I did not know how to connect them with the words in my head. I shook my head. As the extent of what the Corporation had done to me struck, I could no longer hold back my grief. Marc pulled me up and took me in his arms.
“Don't worry. We will find a way for you to communicate. It just means I have to talk for two for a while.”
I saw Roger and Tonio coming in and tried to get rid of the wetness on my face. Roger immediately noted that something had changed and raised his eyebrows.
“What's going on?”
“Roger, Tonio, I would like you to meet Alix.”
“That's good. At least I now know the culprit for me having to do all the work. Nice to meet you, Alix.” Roger said it with a sincere smile.
“You will have to do the whole stuff for a while longer. I intend to take Alix to the cottage for a couple of days. Tonio, can you put us some food together, maybe for a week or so?”
“Are you going for a honeymoon?” Roger laughed.
Instead of an answer, Marc was simply looking at me, his eyes dark. Something stirred below my naval. I looked down.
“So what is it, Tonio?”
“Yes, should be no problem, give me half an hour or so.”
Marc asked me to go with Tonio and choose the food. It was the first time I saw the kitchen. It was light, spacious and well equipped. A hub in the middle, butcher block, two ovens, a large fridge and freezer. Herbs were planted in pots and used up most of the two window sills. Something was cooking on the stove. I immediately liked the place.
“You cook?” I wiggled my head somewhat vaguely, definitely never as well as Tonio did.
“If you are interested, I can teach you some things, not that I want to lose my job.” He smiled.
“I think it's good that Marc has given you finally a name.” I shook my head.
“You mean, Alix is your real name?” I nodded.
“Unusual but I like it.” I could not explain to him that it had been my mother's choice, one of the few things I remembered her for. Tonio opened the freezer.
“What do you want to eat for the next couple of days? I always have several ready-made dishes and meat in the freezer. I have rib eye, spare ribs, prawns, chicken, fish, calamari, take your pick.”
Tonio's selection of fruits and vegetables was even wider and I doubted that we would be able to eat it all. Rice, cereals, pasta, eggs, two loaves of homemade bread, coffee, butter, jam and several packs of milk, juice and yogurt were added.
“You will find spices and some long-life stuff including wine at the cottage. Marc goes up at least once a month and he is, by the way, quite a good cook.”
We packed everything into a large box and took it to the Jeep. The transport cage had been removed from the car and two duffel bags were in the back. We added the box.
Marc joined us and pointed for me to get into the passenger seat.
As we were driving in the direction of the mountains, Marc explained, “There is a cottage about one-and-a-half hour into the mountains, nothing fancy, two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen and bathroom. It is on my property and only Roger and I ever use it.”
“I talked to Bill and told him that you cannot read or write anymore. He thinks you may still be able to learn it again but given that you have not spoken so far, he assumes that that may no longer be possible. Have you tried to speak?”
Yes, many times. I just did not know how. There was no connection between what I was thinking and my vocal cords and I feared that Bill was right. I nodded.
“I suggest we take it one step at a time.”
It was past midday when we arrived. The cottage was secluded in a valley, overlooking a meadow and a fast flowing river, gentle slopes on three sides.
The sun was shining, it was warm and I was alone with Marc. I was thinking about his face when Roger quipped about 'honeymoon'. My heartbeat picked up.
Marc opened the backdoor of the car and took one of the duffel bags and the box with the food. I grabbed the other bag.
The cottage seemed quite new, built of roughly chiseled rocks and wood. I saw several solar panels on the roof. The inside was spacious but cozy and well equipped. A big fireplace, the sitting area comfortable, Mexican rugs on the wall, two doors leading to the bedrooms, a third to a spacious bathroom with a good sized Jacuzzi and shower. The kitchen was flooded by sunlight, stove, fridge, sink, cupboards. We left the box in the kitchen and took the bags into the larger of the two bedrooms. It contained a king-sized bed, dresser, chair, bedside tables and a built-in cupboard.
“You like it?” I nodded then pointed to the bathroom.
“Go ahead. I’ll put the food away. However don't immerse yourself in the bath, I consider that my privilege.”
Like the rest of the cottage, the bathroom was spacious, clean and the air smelt fresh. I opened the shutters. A pile of white towels was sitting on a shelf under the window. I touched them. They were soft.
It was strange to be alone in a room. I had closed the door and not somebody else. I was able to decide using the toilet or the washbasin and not somebody else. I was a human being again and no longer an animal.
I studied myself in the wall-sized mirror. Who was I? - Hardly the same person that had been working at the Seattle newspaper. A sex toy? Marc's property? I touched the collar. Nothing was the same anymore. And with my appearance, there was no example for how I could live my life.
I touched my skin. It felt the same but that was about it. I imagined myself in a dress and could not finish the thought. It meant going among people. They would see my face, the face with the markings of a leopard.
The mirror became too much. I used the toilet and washed my hands. A knock on the door, Marc came in. It struck me that he was still a stranger to me. What would he do with me? I unconsciously took a step back.
“I hope you have no reason to be afraid of me.”
I shook my head and tried to smile. His stark blue eyes were on my face. He was studying me. After a while, his hand touched the ring in my nose.
“I don't think you like this. What about I take it out?” His voice was soft.
This time he received a sincere smile.
Marc got a bolt cutter and asked me to lie down on the bathroom floor. He was careful but it still hurt as he was laboring to cut through the hardened steel. It took him a good five minutes and my nose was bleeding by the time it finally came out. As I was sitting up, I tried to fight back the tears of relief.
“Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head.
“I will keep the ones in your nipples and clit. Once we return to the main house, I will exchange them against a nicer set but they are just too convenient for teasing you.”
I blushed, feeling again the strange desire for submission. He wanted my sex on display, talked like he owned my body and I did not object. More I felt that he had the right to do it. "The right" – I was mulling over the word.
“Now, I want you to promise that you will never run away. I want you to trust me and if something bothers you, try to communicate but do not run away. Can you agree to that?”
I nodded. I was still wearing the bracelet around my ankle and he removed it with his pocketknife.
“I trust you and I want you to trust me.”
For a second I was thinking about the collar around my neck but then let it be. I was free, no longer wearing that humiliating ring in my nose that could so easily be used to control me. Yes, I felt Marc's ownership, that I was his. But I was again a human being. He had asked me for my consent and trust.
I was still sitting on the floor. Marc simply picked me up and carried me through to the bedroom where he put me down on the bed. He took four leather cuffs from the duffel bag and mounted them on my wrists and ankles. As he pulled rope from the bag, I was looking questioningly at him.
Instead of giving me any answer, he said, “You trust me, don't you?”
I nodded. He tied the ropes to the cuffs and then to the head and foot board so I was in a spread eagle and could do nothing else than lifting my head. He undressed and slowly crawled over me. I was immediately getting aroused. He cupped my breasts in his hands and began to massage my nipples with his thumbs until they were throbbing. Sweat was gathering between my breasts and he licked it off. His tongue was slow and meticulous going from between my breasts, to the naval and down south.
The first lick in my slit, I tried to clench, another to my clit. It did not take long and I began to moan. His tongue circled around my lower lips, a nibble to the clit. I tried to clench, the first trust from my hips. He returned to my breasts, took the rings into his mouth, flicked them. His back buckled, his hard cock was brushing against my thighs. I went berserk, was fighting against my bonds, moans turned to screams. I wanted only one thing, him inside me. He let me struggle, scream, he kept caressing me, his tongue hot, unrelenting, probing, teasing, in out. It was torture. He did not let me come, did not enter me, just his tongue, in out.
I thought I would die and finally began to cry. He continued, no word, no comfort, only his tongue until I calmed down, aroused to the extreme but giving in to his play. That's when he entered me and we both exploded within seconds.
Later I was curled up next to him, the ropes were gone but the cuffs still on me. It was dark outside, the room illuminated by the light on his side table. He was awake and was simply watching me.
“Alix, I love you. You are not my prisoner but you are mine. Do you understand?”
Yes, more than ever I understood. I felt a great calm in me like when you know you have come home. I was his and that's how it was supposed to be. There was no more fury and anger.
“Are you hungry, Beautiful?”
I nodded. We went to the bathroom first. Marc removed the cuffs and washed us in the shower. He dressed in shirt and shorts. I remained naked except that he returned the cuffs around my wrists. I let him proceed, watched him as he locked them one by one and wondered why I let him proceed.
Marc cooked dinner, seafood pasta and Greek salad. I helped him with the salad and set the round table that was standing between the open kitchen and living area. A fire was now burning in the fireplace and the cottage was warm. Marc asked me whether I drank wine and I smiled. I could hardly believe where the day had started and where we were now.
The food was superb and I indicated so. Marc had worked as an assistant cook at a Mediterranean restaurant during his study days. I wondered what had made him so immensely rich but found no way to ask the question. He was unassuming and definitely not afraid of getting his hands dirty.
As we were getting up after dinner, he walked behind me and asked me to put my hands behind my back. I did and he connected the two cuffs with a padlock. Without another word he began to clean up. I was a little bit at a loss, standing between table and kitchen and did not know what to do. Damn, I was the only one who could no longer speak, so why didn't he say something?
After a while, I got the point and knelt down, legs spread. He smiled but still did not say a word. I did not look down in front of me, instead watched him doing the dishes. I realized that I was no longer afraid of him even though I was still confused by my own responses. Why was I kneeling and felt it was the right thing to do?
When he was done, Marc hunched down in front of me and touched my thighs. They were wet. He looked at me and I blushed, looked down and saw my nipples poking out like two arrows. I shook my head in desperation and began to pull on the cuffs.
“Don't oppose it, Alix. There is nobody else here than you and me. If you kneel down and open up, you do it for me. B/d is much more than sex. As you let me cuff you and expose to me voluntarily, it is one of the strongest expressions of trust you can give to me.”
We spent the rest of the evening in front of the fire. After throwing a couple of pillows and blankets on the floor, Marc pulled me down to lie between his legs and began nibbling on my ear. His hands were slowly stroking and massaging my body but he made no attempt to go any further. There was little I could do with my hands bound so I just relaxed and gave in to him, his touch and musky smell, and the warmth of the fire.
There were a thousand questions in my mind but no avenue to ask. I was thinking about his words. They had trained me at the Corporation to expose and not object; he had forced me to do so over the past weeks. Was I doing it now because of that training or was there indeed beauty in submission? I was listening inside and again felt a great calmness. After a while, it struck me that rape, sex and making love were all the same act; it was only the bond between the two parties that made all the difference. Maybe it was the same with submission, there could be humiliating perversion or beauty.
“Are you okay?” I looked up at him. The same question framed a day that had taken our relationship into a complete new dimension. After a while I nodded.
The following day we made it to breakfast way past mid-morning. The cottage was wrapped in a thick layer of fog and it seemed we would be spending the day inside. I reverted to my usual breakfast of cereal, yogurt and fruits while Marc restored his energy levels with an enormous English breakfast. We were both smiling as we watched each other eating and thought about the preceding hours.
After breakfast Marc produced a pile of index cards and lettered them with the alphabet. On the backside, we drew corresponding pictures. Apple for a, banana for b and so on. He told me the letter and proposed some words and as I nodded, one of us drew it. Even though I could no longer read or write, my drawings were definitely better than his and he commented on it. I confirmed by laughing at his elephant, which looked like a beetle.
Memorizing the shape of the letters was surprisingly difficult and when I tried to put the letters together for words, I almost broke out in tears. English is not a phonetic language, I had to retrieve the letters one by one from the cards and I spent an eternity trying to figure out which letter may fit the pronunciation of a word. I wanted to write 'Thanks' but got no further than 'Sa' before I could no longer fathom what letter to choose next. I could not pronounce and listen to it and it did not help.
Marc was working on his laptop using a satellite phone to connect to the internet and I watched my efforts. I finally ended up writing 'Sax u.' Marc paraphrased it and after a good laugh showed me how to write 'Thank you.' It did not help to improve my mood, my lips were trembling. Marc took me in his arms.
“You will learn it again but look I found something different, sign language. There is a dictionary on the internet. You know what this means?”
He seemed to hug something in front of his chest. “It means Love.”
I tried to repeat the gesture.
“No do it in front of your heart.”
He showed me how to express that I was hungry, thirsty, was tired or needed to go to the bathroom. It was easy. It was the first time I could communicate beyond 'Yes' and 'No' and I almost exploded of joy.
He chose a couple of other expressions – I am happy, I am sad. I am sick. Let's go for a walk. Let's have sex. Thank you. How are you? I am hot. I am cold.
We made it up to twenty expressions before we began to mix up signs. Different to reading, both Marc and I had to learn to sign as otherwise he would not understand me.
“You are much better at remembering. Ten expressions a day is probably all I can manage and once they go beyond fifty, you will have to give me some slack. I am not as young as you are. How old are you by the way?”
I showed him twenty-six with my fingers. He was thirty-four.
“Were you married?”
I shook my head.
“Did you have a boyfriend?”
I denied it again.
“What about family?”
“Where are you from?”
I took the pencil and the cards and after five minutes I had written 'Seatl'
“Do you want to go back there?”
“Do you want me to tell somebody that you are here?”
I thought about it. Since my grandmother had died, I was very much on my own. I could not imagine facing my former friends, seeing their pity. Marc, Roger and Tonio knew me only how I was now. – No.
“Have you gone to university?”
“What were you doing?”
I tried to figure out how to write journalist and couldn't. The pencil flew in the corner. I signed 'Stop'. I felt utterly exhausted.
“Alix, that was quite good. But enough for today.”
Marc got up and walked behind me. Seconds later my wrists were locked behind my back. It essentially gagged me. I could neither write nor sign. I thought about it and came to the conclusion that Marc would likely release me if I showed any dissatisfaction. But actually I did not mind. It was like a respite after a morning of hard work and I was almost relieved for him to take control away from me.
I watched him making a large sandwich and getting a glass of juice. He asked me to the sitting area.
He sat down and I knelt in front of him.
As I watched him eating, he said, “It looks like you do quite well on two meals and some cum, so don't expect me to change it.”
I blushed and looked down. I was somewhat hungry but my body responded immediately. My nipples hardened, I felt a tingling between me legs. Him determining when and what I ate pressed all my submissive buttons, which I never knew I had.
I got half of the juice, but to my surprise, no cum for dessert. The sun had broken through and Marc wanted us to go for a walk. After smearing me up with sunblock, we went outside. There was still a slight chill in the air.
The walk led us along the valley. The ground was rough but my feet had become used to walking bare. Marc asked me to walk in front of him and I felt him watching me. After about half an hour the valley opened up and we were looking across the foothills towards the sea.
He sat down on a stone and motioned me to sit between his legs so I could lean against him. He removed the padlock between the cuffs. After a while he said, “I assume you never got exposed to b/d in your former life.” I shook my head.
“Alix, I want you to submit to me, I do not want to degrade you. I hope you understand the difference.” I was thinking about it, felt the lingering aftermath of how he had hurt me during the previous weeks but did not move.
“One thing that is important to me is that you are mine. The same somewhat applies for me to you. You should know that I will have no other woman as long as I have you. So I am yours. But I want more from you. I want to be the absolute only one to give you sexual satisfaction, or withhold it. Nobody else, not even you. So, I never want you to play with yourself. I don't even like you to wash yourself. I want to be the one to take care of you. Do you understand?”
My sex did, my brain had some more troubles. The thought of being so much his was scary. I looked up at him. He was serious.
“I doubt that you will have to worry about not getting enough stimulation but I want you to obey me on this. Can you do that?”
Did I have a choice? It seemed that staying with him came in a package, the question was whether I could get used to it and even more, love it? Then I remembered that he had given in to me when I was really desperate. I realized that I trusted him, so I gave him a slight nod. Didn't he say one step at a time?
“It also means that I will stimulate and take you whenever I want. As you know by now I don't mind you starting the game but I will always have the last word.”
Well, yes, I knew that by now. I just hoped I would never come to hate him as much as when he first stuck his cock into my throat. I was looking down at myself thinking about my body being off-limits. He mistook my look.
“I will not give you anything to wear, never. Roger and Tonio have become used to your sight and there will be not many other people. And from now on, nobody else will touch you, not even Roger.”
I was looking out towards the sea, thinking about the world out there. I could not even imagine going there. I was also thinking about my feelings towards Marc. It made me turn around. I was scared but began to use the signs I knew and a couple I invented. Marc paraphrased.
Why – before – walking – house – my house – I – sex.
I could no express what I wanted to say, so I pointed to my mouth, repeated 'sex' and 'why', then bent down and acted like when he forced me to eat out of the bowl, signed why, pulled on the collar and signed why again, signed that I was sad and again why.
He contemplated my expressions. I saw that he understood.
“You want to know why I treated you in the manner I did when you came to my house, why I forced you to sex, why I made you eating out of the bowl, is that correct?”
His voice was neutral, he did not seem angry about my question. Still I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I swallowed, looked down and nodded.
He did not answer for a long time and I wondered whether he would. I kept looking down, I did not want to challenge him; I simply wanted to know.
Finally, he said, “Can I answer you tonight?”
I looked up at him. There was still no anger. He was his usual serious self. I nodded.
He picked up the padlock and asked me to turn around. I did and felt his warm hands as he locked mine. On our way back he kept his hand on my shoulder for the whole time.
After dinner and cleaning up, he pulled me down in front of the fireplace. The room was dark bar the light from the fire. He placed me between his legs, his arms wrapped around me. I smelled him and the freshness of the shower we had taken after our return. He was silent for a long time.
“Alix, I don't know whether the following explains the why. But I give it a try.”
“I wanted you to be mine but I also knew I could not force you to be mine, I saw that on the ship and I saw it again when I picked you up at Tom's and you were waiting inside the cottage. You have something about you that makes it very clear that nobody can do anything to you unless you agree to it.”
I was confused and shook my head vehemently. Over the past months, everything had been done to me and I had agreed to none of it.
“Alix, I am not talking about your body. I am talking about your soul. You are one of the rare persons who can submit yet remain in charge. However, I did not know it at that time. I was looking for a submissive soul mate but I did not know that it could be you. When I saw you on the ship, I was shocked about what they had done to you, your beauty and your desperation. It was obvious that you had not agreed to it unlike what they had told me when they invited, no urged me to come to the auction. I doubt that any of the others were in it voluntarily even though they said so and they seemed to go along much more willingly.”
“When Tom got in touch with me and asked me whether I would take you, I first refused. He asked me what else he should do with you and I said it was not my problem. He phoned me the following day and told me that otherwise he would give you back to the Cooperation as he did not want to be killed over you, and that you would unlikely survive at the club which purchased you. 'She will crack', he said and I exactly knew what he meant. So I agreed.”
“When I took you home in that box, I was furious at myself. What would I do with you if it did not work out? Drop you with the police? Let you simply walk out? I did not even know to what extent your brain had been screwed up by those implants. When we arrived home on that evening, I did not want to have anything to do with you. I was afraid of you, your potential responses, who you could turn out to be. I was attracted by your beauty and spirit but I also saw all the reasons why this would not work out and I almost hated you for it.”
“So, I really did it the hard way. I wanted you so much that I pushed you away. It was like I wanted for you to confirm that you would not willingly submit to me. Call it pursuing your own worst fears. I raped you instead of courting you; I treated you like an animal instead of trying to communicate at the human level. It is no excuse, it is just how it went.”
“During those first days, Roger told me several times that I was too tough with you. In the afternoon before your surgery, he dropped a sentence that hit to the core. He said, ‘You want her to hate you because ultimately you cannot accept that you are a dominant male and like submissive women. You think it is wrong and hate yourself for it.’ He was dead right and few other people than Roger could have told me so.”
I remembered the evening he had taken me into the bathtub for the first time how he had seemed different, his first kiss. I had not realized the war that had been going on around me.
Marc got up and put some more wood onto the fire. He had cuffed me after dinner. Now he removed the lock before he again wrapped himself around me.
“I had the week after surgery to let it sink in. It was also the first time I gave credit to who you really were. Tom had called you 'a natural submissive with an independent mind' but I did not really believe him. I thought he just said so, so that I would take you in. I realized that indeed you were responding to my dominant nature. You gave me little resistance when I cuffed you or told you to do something; all the while you kept your dignity and were quite clear when you resented something. It was the week I became determined to win you over.”
He laughed. It was a rough laugh.
“I definitely did not play fair. I was angry at myself when I realized what I had done to you on that first evening. I had raped you. Yes, I had asked whether you would have sex with me but I still raped you. Afterwards you just did it because I asked you to. During the week after surgery, I realized that I could tease you and you actually seemed to like some of it. Not that it would have kept you with me if there had been any chance to run away.”
“So I made it my weapon. I had made that belt to ensure you keep your hands away from your sex, now I used it as a weapon, together with the blindfold and the feeding tube. I wanted to drive you nuts so you would agree to have sex with me and I wanted you… of course I wanted you to love me but that seemed impossible given how I had treated you… so at least I wanted you to express your sexual attraction to me. I went so far that I made you choosing between the bowl, which I knew you hated, and being with me. When you finally chose to come with me, it seemed I had exactly what I wanted, a sex slave, but I wanted you, Alix, and you were as far away as ever.”
“Those days were awful, Alix. We had heaven at the sexual level, and I was in hell at the human level. I had no idea how to get through to you. When I talked to you about taking it further, your eyes almost looked the same as I had seen them on the ship before the auction and after I raped you. You seemed so isolated and I had no idea how to get through to you.”
“I still don't know what happened yesterday morning when you challenged me. You broke through and we made contact. It's still the most marvelous moment to me and, when you can express yourself better, I want you to tell me what really happened.”
“For all it's worth, I am sorry the way I approached this but I really love you, Alix, and I never want to loose you.”
The room was almost dark except for the red glow of the embers. He was silent and I wondered whether he wanted a response from me. I was surprised that he had told me all this. It did not seem to fit with what one would expect from a dominant male, to talk about his own downfall. His dominance was definitely something else than being the most testosterone driven male in the camp. But did I love him? He seemed certain about his side and wanted this to be permanent. I was much more insecure about mine. Yes, I liked and was comfortable being with him, felt safe and was attracted by him. But was that enough?
I disentangled myself from Marc and the blankets and put some more wood onto the fire. He let me proceed. The index cards were lying on the coffee table next to the sofa, I got them, a pen and a paper then crawled back to him.
I signed 'thanks', then looked through the index cards. I slowly wrote “I ned tim.”
“You can have all the time you need, Alix. Can we say that we made a start and that I am dating you?”
I nodded then laughed. It was indeed the best expression for where I wanted this to be. I saw a smile extending over his face then he began to undress.
We had a couple of unbelievable days. We spent hours discovering each other in the bed, shower, bathtub, and in front of the fire. He drove me absolutely crazy with his games but got me to orgasms that I never thought possible. He discovered secrets about my body I myself had not known about. There was a spot in my ear, if he teased it with his tongue, I began to moan and that was just the beginning. He could drag it out to the extreme until I was screaming and fighting for him to come inside me.
He tied me up for sex, he tied me up to tease me crazy and he tied me up so he was able to clean up the kitchen. It was like he wanted to do everything for me, explore me, wash me, and take care of me. At night he wrapped me into his arms and it became symbolic for our relationship. I was his, secure, caressed, admired, loved. Knowing that I would never be able to go among people, he became my safe-haven.
He talked now much more, told me about his life, his feelings and b/d. He encouraged me to express myself even though it was difficult and that was not just because he liked keeping me cuffed.
I only made very slow progress on how to read and write. I was able to distinguish the letters but it took me a conscious effort to recognize each of them, even more so to write. Putting the letters together for words turned out to be an altogether different story. I had troubles getting them into the right order and making sense of how the words were written. Except for very few words, including my name, there was no memory left how to spell most others. Marc was patient and I was usually the one to give up first, frustrated and often in tears.
We progressed better on sign language. If that was not enough, I sometimes simply drew a picture. I had always been good at drawing and at least that had not changed.
Marc probed me once more about my past and family. I conveyed that I had grown up with my grandmother but that she had died two years ago. As for the other questions I simply shook my head. My past was gone. This was now my life and I had to figure out how to get through with it.
I guess Marc sensed it. Instead he told me about his own life. He had gone into computer technology and, during university time, figured out how to make those chips run faster. He interrupted his PhD and initiated his own company. The resulting patents kept the money pouring in.
“But I was never happy, the whole computer and business world is so lifeless. So when the farm came up for sale, I bought it and retired. Roger was my security chief at the company and I asked him to retire with me.”
He was still on the board of his former company and a board meeting was the reason for us having to finally leave the cottage.
We left the cottage early morning. It was a beautiful day, bright and sunny, and I felt like the day mirrored my feelings. Marc's stuff was packed fast enough and Tonio was to come up during one of the following days to clean out the kitchen.
As Marc was putting the bags into the car, it struck me that I owned nothing in this world. It was me and my body. I was wearing Marc's collar and cuffs, and he had promised to exchange the piercings with his own once we were back at the farm. I realized that it did not really bother me to own nothing. Over the past week, I had found a deep satisfaction in being with Marc and I began to hope that it would never change.
“What are you thinking, Beautiful?”
Marc smiled at me. He looked relaxed and his eyes extended so much warmth, it was obvious that his spirits were as high as mine. I signed that I was happy and that I was thinking about the two of us.
“And what's your conclusion?”
That I liked him very much.
He contemplated my response.
“Like or love?”
I signed 'increasing' and 'love'.
His smile deepened. He kissed me. Then we had to leave.
On our way down, I was wondering what he would do with me at the main house. I was hoping he would no longer chain me to the wall. Also, what would I do? Would I just be there for him? It was like he was able to read my mind.
“Alix, to the extent it is possible, I want you to have a normal life. Think about what you want to do. You can help me with the farm or you could for example become active over the internet, except that the latter would require you to become much better at reading and writing. I don't think it is wise for you to venture into the outside world. If you want, I could look for somebody trustworthy who is better than me at teaching you how to read and write. I am sure I am not the best teacher on the planet.”
I began to sign. He stopped the car.
“Say that again.”
I signed that I was scared to meet other people.
He drove on. We remained both silent. I was glad he was not talking about finding a way to change my skin color. I knew it was impossible.
When we were driving up to the house, I saw a white van standing next to the barn, a man waiting next to it, a second one behind the steering wheel. I was concerned that they would see me and immediately bent down to hide between the dashboard and the seat. Marc stopped the car, reached to the backseat and gave me a blanket.
“Stay inside.” His voice was tense.
He got out and closed the door. A few seconds later, a gun shot, then another one. I bolted up. Marc was lying on the ground a few feet from the van. The two men were running towards me. I began to scream.
Everything went very fast. They pulled me out of the car. I was fighting them, screaming, hoping that Roger was around. One of them got hold of the collar. He turned the chain until I was gasping for air. They dragged me by where Marc was lying on his side. He was pale, there was blood on his abdomen, his eyes were closed and he was not moving.
I was screaming, sobbing, scratching, kicking, I got away from one of them but not the other. They subdued me and hauled me towards the van. And all at once there was Melinda, the syringe. The needle broke off under my struggles. Still it was enough to make me passing out.
I woke up in the box, the hum of the engine telling me I was back in the airplane. My hands were cuffed to my feet. I began to scream. I was wearing a shocking collar and the device responded immediately. I did not care. I kept screaming, hammering onto the wall of the box, the collar kept shocking again and again. They had no mercy. I could scream and fight; there was nobody who would help me. Still I did until I was so exhausted, I could no longer do anything.
In the hours it took to land in Florida, I thought I would go crazy. They had shot Marc and I was going back to the nightmare. I saw Marc's face, the blood, knew that he was most likely dead. An abyss was opening up in front of me; it was too dark to comprehend.