Forced Submission (9 page)

M gasped, her hands flying to her neck as the chain
tightened around her throat. “Please,” she gasped, coughing. “You’re hurting
me.”

Ellis reached to push a thick strand of hair from her face.
He tucked it behind her small, pretty ear. “It’s my prerogative to hurt you, M.
I could kill you if I liked.” He stroked her cheek as he delivered these words,
his cock throbbing as her lips compressed in a thin line of fear, her blue eyes
widening. He laughed softly, but released the tension on the choke chain.

Reaching for the shorts he’d worn the day before, he pulled out
the slim remote that controlled all the door locks in the house. He led her
into the master bathroom and closed the door, pushing a button on the remote
and waiting for the small click that indicated it was locked. Satisfied, he
slipped the remote beneath a stack of towels on the counter and then directed M
to the toilet.

“Sit down and keep your legs spread wide. I’m going to piss
into the bowl at the same time as you.” Though she kept her mouth shut, M’s
face was expressive with distaste, even disgust, at this pronouncement. Ellis
filed this away, not choosing to call her on it. When he was done with her,
she’d be grateful for anything from her Master, even his piss.

Once he finished, he reached for the toilet handle, but
realized M was still peeing, a pathetic dribble. “Hurry up,” he said brusquely.
“It’s time for my shower.” He jerked her chain for emphasis.

Her face brick red, the girl reached hastily for some toilet
paper, which he noted she used on her thighs to wipe away some stray droplets
of his piss. Feeling magnanimous, Ellis let this pass. She dropped the toilet
paper into the bowl and reached for more, which she used on herself.

Ellis flushed the toilet and pulled her upright. He let the
leash fall and moved toward the shower stall, reaching in to start the water.
Turning back to M, he ordered, “Kneel on the rug and hold out your hands,
elbows at your sides, palms up.”

M did as she was told. Ellis was pleased she hadn’t uttered
a peep of protest so far. He reached for the towel on top of the stack and
placed it across her arms. “You will not move from this position while I
shower. When I’m done, you will dry my feet and legs while I dry my body.
Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” the girl murmured faintly.

“Louder. I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, still not much above a whisper, but,
again, he let it pass.

Ellis showered quickly. He kept his eye on his slave girl
through the glass door of the stall. She remained in position, eyes downcast.
When he turned toward the back wall of the shower, he peered into the shaving
mirror, able to see her kneeling reflection in the mirror over the sinks as he
washed his hair.

Clearly not aware she was being observed, M turned her head
toward the bathroom door and then glanced quickly back at him. She looked again
toward the door, as if measuring the distance, calculating if she could make it
out before he had a chance to stop her.

Ellis smiled to himself as he watched her. He’d ordered her
not to move. Was she going to defy him so soon? Did she really think he’d be
stupid enough to leave the door unlocked before he had her fully trained?

All at once she dropped the towel, moving so quickly she
surprised him, despite the fact he’d been half anticipating her action. He kept
his back to her as he rinsed the last of the soap from his body. She was
fumbling at the door knob, turning it with both hands, whimpering as she
rattled the locked door.

Whipping her head back in his direction, she scuttled back
to the bath rug, reaching for the towel she’d dropped there in her haste. Ellis
shut off the water and turned slowly, moving toward the shower door. M was
breathing heavily, her face flushed, her eyes wild. She’d managed to get the
towel back over her arms, which were trembling.

Ellis opened the shower and stepped out onto the rug in
front of her. He reached for a towel, nodding in her direction. She bent
forward, rubbing her towel over his feet and moving it along one leg. He let
her carry on as he dried his hair, face and torso.

Dropping his towel, Ellis reached for her wrist, catching it
as he crouched down in front of her. With his other hand he reached for her
throat, gripping hard just below the jaw line. She squeaked in terror as he
squeezed.

He put his mouth close to her ear. “Did you move out of
position while I was in the shower?” Another squeak of raw fear. He loosened
his grip around her throat just a little. “Answer the question.”

“I—no, I was just—”

Letting go of her wrist, Ellis pulled back and slapped her
hard across her left cheek. Tears flooded her eyes. “I will ask again,” Ellis
said evenly. “And if you lie again to me, M, you will regret it.” He glared at
her as the tears spilled over her flushed cheeks. “Did you move while I was in
the shower?”

“Yes,” she mouthed silently, her face a mask of misery.

“What happens to slave girls who disobey and then lie about
it?”

She stared at him wordlessly.

“You don’t know?” Ellis let go of her throat. He slapped her
again, this time on the right cheek. “Then I’ll tell you. They get severely
punished.”

M covered her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Ellis stood, yanking her upright by the choke collar.

“I was going to feed you this morning, but you blew that all
to hell.” He pulled her toward the bedroom. “Instead you’ll start your morning
with a punishment—one you won’t soon forget.”

~*~

Mia couldn’t contain her hiccupping sobs of fear as Ellis
dragged her along toward the dungeon. Once inside the torture chamber, he
gripped her by the back of the neck and steered her toward the wooden stocks.
Keeping his hand on her neck, he flipped up the top half of the stocks. “Go
on.” He pushed her head forward. “Bend over and put your neck and wrists in the
slots.”

Holding her in place, he lowered the top half of the stocks,
locking her head and arms into place. The stocks were low and in her effort to
accommodate the awkward position, Mia started to sink to her knees. Ellis’
bark, punctuated by a sharp smack on her bottom, stopped her. “No, you will
stand for this punishment.” Mia had to step back to manage this, forcing her
body into a ninety-degree angle, her back parallel to the floor, her bare ass a
prime target.

As she waited for whatever he was going to do to her, Mia’s
heart smashed in her chest like a panicked bird beating itself against a glass window.
She heard Ellis moving behind her and then he appeared in her line of vision,
brandishing a small black-handled whip with a single lash of leather, the tip
branching into three small strands of what looked like nylon, each knotted at
the end.

Ellis snapped the whip in the air, making Mia jump. “This
will be your designated punishment whip. One of your goals as I train you is to
avoid ever seeing this whip. When it appears, you’ll know you’ve fucked up, big
time.” His voice softened, a tone of disappointment infusing the words. “I have
to say, M, I’m surprised at you needing it so soon. You seemed to have such
promise on our first day together.”

Fuck you.

The words leaped into her mind with such a vengeance Mia was
terrified for a moment she’d said them aloud. She tensed for a blow, but when
it wasn’t forthcoming, she breathed a small sigh of relief. She didn’t want to
make an already horrible situation even worse.

“Why are you in the stocks, M? Hmm? What did you do to earn
this punishment?”

Why had she done it? Oh, why, why, why? She should have
known the door would be locked, though she hadn’t seen him lock it, nor had she
even seen evidence of a lock. Only too late had she noticed the shaving mirror
secured at the back of the large shower stall, and realized he’d witnessed her
rash attempt at escape. It had been a calculated risk—and it had failed.

Mia took a breath, forcing herself to reply, “I—I tried to
run away, Sir.”

“That’s right. And what else did you do?”

“I…” Mia paused, at a loss.

“You lied,” Ellis thundered. “A slave must always be
completely truthful with her Master. You lied!

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, terrified.

Ellis smiled, though his eyes remained cruel. “And that will
never, ever happen again, will it, M?”

“No, Sir,” she managed, her mind blank with terror.

Ellis held the handle of the small whip against her mouth.
“Kiss it,” he ordered. “You will kiss the whip both before and after any
punishment, and you will thank me, both before and after, as well.”

He pressed the whip against Mia’s mouth and, having no
choice, Mia forced her lips into a pucker against the smooth, hard
leather-bound handle. The whip was removed, and Ellis stepped out of her line
of sight, though he continued to speak. “I’m going to give you fifteen lashes.
You will count each stroke for me in a loud, clear voice. If you falter or lose
your count, we will start over. Are we very, very clear on this, M?”

“Yes, Sir,” Mia forced herself to say, her voice trembling.
“Thank you, Sir,” she remembered suddenly to add.

The anger that had prompted the unspoken
fuck you
still lingered. Her name was Mia. What was with this M bullshit? Even as she
thought this, the answer slipped into her mind. By calling her an initial, he
was further objectifying her.
Slaves
, she could almost hear him saying
in his deep, commanding voice,
don’t have names.

She heard him moving behind her. “Legs wider apart,” he
ordered. “And hold your position. Don’t try to move away from the whip. Each
time you move, we start over.”

The first stroke landed like a line of fire across both
cheeks. Unprepared, Mia squealed in pain, wrenching her neck and scraping her
wrists against the wooden stocks as she instinctively jerked away from the
pain.

“One!” she cried belatedly.

“You moved. We start again.”

This time she managed to stay still as a second line of fire
painted her flesh. “One!” she gasped. The next lash hit only her right cheek,
the tip curling painfully around her hip. “Two!” Mia cried in anguish, tears
filling her eyes.

Each stroke hurt more than the last, some of them catching
the backs of her thighs or her lower back, most of them criss-crossing her ass
cheeks. Somehow she managed to keep her feet planted flat on the floor as he
struck her again and again with the knotted lash. Breathlessly she forced
herself to call out the numbers, desperate for the punishment to be over.

“Fifteen,” she finally wailed, the last snapping stroke
especially savage, landing just where her thighs met her ass. Tears were
streaming down her cheeks, her nose running, every inch of skin on her ass and
the backs of her thighs burning as if she’d been stung by a hundred angry
wasps.

Ellis, his large cock fully erect, appeared suddenly in
front of her. He held the whip to her lips and she somehow managed a semblance
of a kiss against the handle. “I’m waiting,” he barked.

Waiting for what?
she thought desperately. Then,
thank god, she remembered. “Thank you, Sir,” she uttered, her voice coming out
in a croaking rasp.

“For what?”

“For—for punishing me, Sir.”

“You’re welcome.”

He moved closer, standing directly in front of her. Lifting
his shaft, he pushed the fat head against her closed lips. In no position to
refuse, Mia let them part. He arched his hips forward, gliding his hard cock
into her mouth, not stopping until the tip was lodged in the back of her
throat. She felt his hands on her head, his fingers coiling into her hair. He
began to move, thrusting in and out of her mouth while she struggled to breathe
in her awkward position.

He came quickly, spurting his hot, wet jism down her throat
in a series of thrusts. His fingers loosened in her hair, his hands and cock
falling away as he stepped back.

After a moment, he said, “I’ll leave you there a while to
consider your transgressions. When I come back, we’ll start your training in
earnest.”

Chapter 7

Thirty minutes later Ellis strode into the dungeon. M was on
her knees, her long dark hair obscuring her face, her hands hanging limply in
the stocks. Her eyes flew open, her lips parting as he approached. Stepping
behind her, he unlatched the top of the stocks and pulled it open. Grabbing a
handful of her hair, he jerked her head back and bent down to hiss in her ear,
“I didn’t tell you to move out of position. How dare you disobey me?”

“I didn’t know!” she wailed. Her entire body was shaking. He
almost took pity on her, and reminded himself she was still in the early stages
of training. He would cut her a little slack. He let go of her hair and reached
beneath her arms to pull her upright.

He put a supporting arm around her shoulders as he led her
to the couch. “That’s true,” he conceded, allowing some gentleness to enter his
tone. “I will give you a pass, since I didn’t expressly tell you not to move.
But now you have been warned. If I leave you in a position, you will not move
from that position until given permission. Understood?”

M was still trembling, her thick hair a wild mass of
tangles, her eyes wide in her round face. “Yes, Sir,” she managed. Ellis
considered pushing her down then and there to fuck her. His cock pulsed with
the urge to sink itself into her heat.

Not yet.

Sir Stephen had only fucked O in the ass. Anal sex was
different. It was about power, at least it was for Ellis. Along with fucking
her mouth, he would take his release that way until M had been properly
trained. Only when she’d proved herself worthy would he grace her with his cock
as a lover might.

The day was already getting away from them, and there was so
much to do! Standing, he tugged at M’s leash. “You stink,” he informed her,
amused at the rise of color on her cheeks this remark caused. “Let’s get you
cleaned up.”