Forced Submission (12 page)

She couldn’t help it—she pushed back against the firm hand
now cupping the top of her head. The hand slipped away and she burst to the
surface, gasping and coughing as she struggled to fill her lungs with air.

A strong arm closed hard around her throat, pulling her back
against Sir’s chest. “You displease me, M,” Sir said, his mouth close to her
ear. “Resistance is disobedience, and disobedience must be punished.” M
squeaked with fear as the arm tightened painfully against her throat. She had
displeased Sir. She would now pay the price. That was the way it was. It was
the way it always had been.

No
, a small voice whispered from somewhere deep
inside her.
Once there was a different way.
But the voice was silenced
as Sir leaned forward to open the drain and then pulled himself up from the
water, dragging M along with him. He hoisted her out of the Jacuzzi, setting
her none too gently on the bath rug beside it. She remained huddled and
dripping on the rug as Sir dried himself and wrapped the towel around his
waist.

Hooking his strong hands beneath her arms, he pulled her
upright and marched her to the full length mirror. He stood just behind her,
holding her shoulders. M closed her eyes, not wanting to see.

“Open your eyes,” Sir commanded. “Look at my slave girl.
Look at the girl who has disgraced herself with her disobedience. Look at the
girl I am going to punish.”

Equal parts shame and terror flooded M as she forced herself
to look. Because he was watching her in the mirror, she didn’t dare slide her
eyes away, as she usually did when confronted with her image.

In front of her stood a slender girl, all the fat she’d once
carried melted away under Sir’s intense regime. M took no pleasure in the
sight. Her flesh was covered in welts and bruises, some fresh, some faded, but
flesh heals, and M understood she needed to be disciplined and punished in
order to please Sir.

It was the slave girl’s face she hated to see, with the
haunted eyes that appeared too large for her face now, and the bald head covered
in a dark fuzz that Sir shaved away once a week. She had once had beautiful
hair, she remembered. It had been her best feature, and Sir had taken it away.

This thought troubled her, because along with it came a
feeling she tried very hard to avoid—anger. Anger only caused her pain, because
it opened wounds best left undisturbed. And it wasn’t right to be angry with
Sir. She belonged to Sir. He was the Master of her body and soul. He allowed
her to serve him. She lived for him. Without him, she would die.

~*~

Ellis stood behind M, drinking in the sight of her. He had
taken an innocent and completely untrained girl and turned her into an
obedient, deeply sensual submissive woman who craved whatever he gave her, be
it pleasure or pain. She worshipped his cock each morning with ardent devotion,
and submitted with grace to whatever delicious torture he could devise. She
understood now that her very life depended on him. She was enslaved, mind, body
and soul, and the realization thrilled Ellis to his bones.

True, she had resisted being submerged under the water, but
that was just her survival instinct coming to the fore. She’d actually stayed
down longer than he’d expected; he’d been within a few seconds of letting her
up. Still, he would have to punish her, because she had disobeyed him. He’d
learned that it was essential to be consistent and firm. They would work daily
on submersion, he decided, until she was able to stay under as long as it
suited him.

What the hell are you doing? You could kill her.
Ellis
shook off this unwelcome voice that occasionally managed to insinuate itself
into his thoughts. He knew exactly what he was doing. He had abducted a woman
and no one was the wiser. He’d listened and watched the news for weeks after
she’d arrived, and there hadn’t been a peep. Mia Roberts had fallen off the
grid, and no one noticed or cared.

He’d extended his leave of absence from the firm for a
second month and then a third, though he did keep in constant touch from home
via internet, phone and email. He’d let it circulate that he had cancer and was
undergoing treatment. Along with the outpouring of sympathy and get well
wishes, his employees had settled into a routine without his physical presence.
Things seemed to be humming along so well, he was considering early retirement.
After all, he had everything he wanted right here at home. M filled his every
need. She was his obsession, and he couldn’t get enough.

Shaving her head had been his first stroke of true genius.
As he cut her glossy hair until only an inch remained and lifted the trimmer to
smooth away the stubble, a curious thing had occurred. M had seemed to break in
front of his eyes, the last sparks of defiance and resistance snuffed out for
good when the final lock fell to the ground. It was at that moment, Ellis
believed, that M had accepted her lot. From that moment forward, she’d
progressed in her training beyond his wildest dreams.  

He was never at a loss for a new torture or trial for his
sub. He had slowly built up her tolerance for pain and deprivation. She could
handle being tightly bound and caged for hours at a time. She could take a
whipping that once would have had her squealing and wailing like a stuck pig.
And she not only took it, she took it in silence, and thanked him afterward by
worshipping his cock, balls and asshole, only stopping when he pushed her away.

She no longer fainted at the sight of her own blood, and she
didn’t hesitate to pee or move her bowels in front of him. He was truly the
Master of her body and soul, and he could sometimes hear her whispering her
mantra as she lay in her sleep cage at night. She belonged to him utterly and
completely, and the realization filled him with a dark, hot rush of power that
made him feel as if he could dominate the world.

Still, she had disobeyed him by pushing back against his
hand, and for that she had to be punished. He would use the punishment as a
chance to further her training. The coffee he’d had that morning had gone right
through him, but rather than pee in the toilet, he had a better idea. “Get back
into the tub for your punishment.”

M’s expressive eyes widened with fear at being ordered back
into the now empty Jacuzzi, but she obeyed. “Lie down on your back, feet flat.
Spread your knees and arch your hips so I can see your cunt. And open your
mouth.” He waited while the slave girl obeyed. “Hold that position. I’m going
to piss on you. If you move even a fraction of an inch, you’ll be soundly
beaten and then put in the punishment cage without food or water until it
pleases me to let you out.”

Ellis positioned himself beside the tub and took his cock in
his hand. He moved the strong stream of urine over her body, spraying her cunt
and breasts, and then aiming at her face. M squeezed her eyes shut, but kept
her mouth open as urine splashed over her cheeks and into her mouth. And though
he could see the tremble in her limbs, she didn’t move a muscle.

Pleased, Ellis shook away the last drops and leaned over the
tub to turn on the cold water. To complete her punishment, he hosed her down
with an icy blast of water. Then he lifted the shivering, dripping girl from
the tub and placed her on the bath rug. Straddling her chest, he pushed his
throbbing shaft into her mouth and fucked her face. When he came, she
gratefully swallowed every drop.

“Thank you, Sir,” she breathed, and he knew she meant it.

~*~

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject: Possible purchase

Dear Prince Kamau,

I have been
following your website with great interest for some time. Your tips on D/s have
been invaluable to me as I forge a bond with my sub girl, M. M and I have been
together for about six months now and she has become my 24/7 submissive. While
I have relished the experience of training M to submit and serve, I confess
that I don’t have the heart or inclination to start at ground zero with a new
sub. Perhaps I am old-fashioned in this regard, but M will always be first and
foremost in my heart. She is not only my slave girl, she is my lover and my
confidante. She is my soul mate.

That said, we
have been talking at some length about this, and we both agree we would like to
bring a trained submissive into our household, someone we would of course love
and cherish as our own. I have been perusing your page of potential girls for
placement, and, as I am a man of means, I would have no trouble meeting the
necessary financial obligations associated with the procurement and care. I am
especially interested in slave Zahara, if she is still available for placement.

I look forward to your reply.

Regards,

Master E

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject: Re: Possible purchase

Dear Master E,

Thank you for
your interest in my website. I would like to clear up a possible misperception
regarding my site and the placement of trained submissives in worthy homes. The
misperception comes in the form of your subject header regarding a possible
“purchase”. I do not traffic in the sale of human flesh. If I were to place a
submissive with you, that placement would be entirely voluntary for all
parties, and any monies exchanged would be placed in an account for sole use by
the submissive in question. As long as we are clear on this subject, I would be
happy to discuss a potential placement with you.

Let us begin a
dialog. If I determine you are suitable as a Master for one of my girls, you
will be welcome to come to my island for a personal interview of all parties
concerned. I would welcome your submissive, M, as well. Just as we can tell so
much about a parent’s skill by the behavior of their children, so can we learn
much about a Master by the behavior of his submissive. As I hope you would
agree, love is a crucial element in true submission, and a D/s relationship
devoid of love is like a flower in the desert, filled with potential, but
unable to flower.

The closest
airport is Maputo International in Mozambique. I will send a private boat to
transport you to my island, where you will be my guest. Assuming all goes well,
we can make placement arrangements at that time that meet with our mutual
satisfaction.

Meanwhile,
please complete the attached questionnaire, which will allow me to better
assess your level of expertise and experience. As I am sure you would agree,
trust is the most essential component in any consensual D/s relationship. I
trust that you will answer each question thoroughly and honestly. There is a
questionnaire for your submissive, M, as well, which she should complete
without assistance from you. I look forward to your responses.

Until then, I remain yours,

In peace,

Kamau

Chapter 9

“No!” The word flew from her lips before M could stop it.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the long, hollow needle Sir held in his hand.

Though he didn’t shout, Sir’s voice was hard as steel. “Are
my ears deceiving me? Did I hear you say
no
?”

Remorse hurtled through M, but fear of the needle was
stronger. Her usual mantle of calm acceptance had slipped, and panic prickled
over her skin like a hoard of fire ants. Though she rarely thought of her past
life, and in fact recalled very little of it, her deep-seated aversion to
needles went deeper than memory, and she took a step back, wrapping her arms
protectively over her breasts.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she managed. “But please, not the needle.
I’ll do anything you say, but I can’t—”

In a flash he’d closed the distance between them, his hand
gripping her hard by the back of the neck as he leaned his face close to hers,
his words silencing her. “You
will
do anything I say, and there are no buts
about it. This isn’t about what you can or can’t do. It’s about what
I
want.”

He let her go, and she stumbled back. All at once the anger
drained away from his face, replaced by a disappointment that made her feel
even worse. “You had been doing so well. That’s the reason I decided to bestow
this honor upon you. These are for you.” He pointed to the gold hoops that lay
in a small box, resting on dark blue velvet. “When I pierce your nipples and
place this jewelry at your breasts, you will know you are truly owned. When the
prince sees you, he will know by your piercings that you are a slave worthy of
wearing my gold.”

The prince? What prince? This was the first M was hearing of
a prince, and her curiosity almost made her forget her fear. She hadn’t seen or
spoken to anyone but Sir since she’d come to him. Though she’d lost track of
actual days or even what month it was, there was snow falling outside the
windows now, and it had been summer when she’d first arrived.

Was someone coming to see them? A prince, no less? M was
uncertain how she felt about this news. She touched her scalp, feeling a sense
of loss she knew was disloyal. Sir liked her shorn—he often said so. It gave
her nothing to hide behind, and a slave must never hide from her Master, even if
unintentionally.

Of course M gave no voice to these thoughts. A slave did not
speak unless asked a direct question, and then she only answered the question
asked. Sir was watching her and, as if he could hear her unspoken questions, he
continued, “That’s right. A prince. He is Master of an entire harem of fully
trained submissives. He has a website, through which he sometimes places slave
girls with other Masters. I’ve been thinking it was time you had a sister
slave. Prince Kamau wants to meet me and he wants to meet you as well. If you
can submit with grace and courage to this piercing, I will take you with me to
meet the prince. He is the prince of a sovereign island nation off the eastern
coast of Africa. Would you like to visit his harem, M?”