The Slave (13 page)

“
Do you remember what this is for,
slave?”

“
For not calling you master, master!”
she choked out, pressing her body into the pillows. Another slap.
“Oh! Twelve, master!”

“
So what do you say,
slave?”

“
Uh! I. . . I don’t know, master!”
Slap! “Thirteen, master!”

“
Yes you do, slave. And if you don’t
say it by the time we finish the twenty, I’m just going to keep
going until you do.” Slap!

Robin gasped, and hurriedly counted, but her
mind wasn’t ready to start working on what else she could be
saying. She moaned and squirmed, and counted, never forgetting the
‘master,’ until the number twenty was reached, and Bob paused.

“
Have you figured out what to say,
slave?”

“
No, please, I don’t know, master!”
She was surprised to find that part of her was absolutely getting
into this absurd game! She was actually concerned that she didn’t
know! The tension grew within her and it was an incredibly powerful
catalyst. She wanted to reach down and touch her cunt lips, squeeze
her whole hand around her pussy, but she didn’t, held captive by
the commands of the ‘master’ talking her through this amazing
experience.

“
Maybe you’ll figure it out before my
arm gets tired, little slave. I hope you do, because when I get
tired, I’m switching to something much nastier. You can stop me
anytime, my dear. All you need are the magic words!”
Smack!

That one was loud, harsh against her ear.
Robin moaned involuntarily and pressed her thighs together. The
smacks continued at a new pace, not bothering to wait for her to
count, and she began to grind her hips into the floor, truly
feeling. . . something. She panted, and almost dropped the phone,
but held onto it and tried to think. Wait! Magic words!

“
Thank you! Thank you,
master!”

“
You’re welcome, sweetie.” The spanks
stopped. “Now what are you thanking me for?”

“
For correcting me,
master!”

“
See? That was easy. You’re good at
this, slave. A natural.” His voice became soothing again. “And now,
I get to have a little fun with my new submissive. I get to play
with her body for as long as I want. So stretch out on your back,
and spread your legs.”

Robin followed his voice and the commands
that came to her. She touched herself, her breasts and belly. At
his commands, she stroked her throat and thighs, pinched her
nipples until she whimpered, drew wide circles of scratches across
her skin. This stranger was directing her to do things she did when
she jerked off, but they were in his order, according to his
tastes. As her moans and sighs built up, he chuckled and addressed
her in gentler tones. Soon, she could feel that the wetness between
her legs had become raging, creating a sense of overwhelming
weakness and tension.

“
Now I’m going to bring you off,
slave. For my amusement. I like to see beautiful slave girls
squirming under my touch, begging to come for their master. Can you
feel my hand on you? My fingers finding your clit, sliding along
it, back and forth, until you can’t take it anymore? And I’m going
to push my fingers inside you, slave, two, and then three fingers,
pushing you wide open for me. Do it, do it....”

Robin let her fingers stand in for his, and
closed her eyes.

“
And you’re not going to come until I
tell you that you may, you little slut. You’re going to lie there
and take it all, until you can’t stand it anymore, and you have to
beg me to bring you off, beg to come all over my hand, to jerk your
body around and cry out and drip your sweet juices all over your
legs.” Bob’s voice picked up tempo again, and Robin matched him
with the motions of her hand. She found the places she liked best
and the pressure that worked, and her fingers swept around her clit
until her body did in fact begin to shake and tremble.

“
Now, slave, now, I want you to feel
me pushing my cock inside you, while my hand works on your stiff
little clit, I want your whole cunt wide open, naked for me, as I
fill you up and make you whimper and beg... You want it, don’t
you?”

“
Yes,” Robin whispered, pushing her
hips up a little. “Oh yes!”

“
Beg me! Tell me that you want to be
fucked!”

“
Yes! Fuck me, master! Fill me!” Robin
pushed up again and again, pressing against her hand. She was
breathing raggedly, and sweat gathered in the hollow of her
back.

“
That’s good! Good! Because you need
this, don’t you, slave?”

“
Yes! Please! Please fuck me! Make me
come, master, please, please... Oh, I can’t hold it,
please!”

“
Then come, slave, come for your
master, wrap your cunt around his dick! Come on, I want to feel
you!”

Robin gasped, and her whole body
straightened out and shook for that final moment before ecstasy.
Then, her fingers slipped to that perfect place, and her hips
jerked convulsively, and she felt a new urge of wetness accompany
the series of wonderful, shuddering waves of pleasure coming from
her loins. Her moans became inarticulate groans and gasps, and she
whimpered, “Oh master, master, master!” riding each exclamation
with another sob of joy.

When she lay back, her breath slowly
returning in long, shuddering inhalations, she realized that she
had dropped the phone. She picked it up gingerly, and held it to
her ear. Her heart was pounding.

“
H-hello?” she whispered.

“
You have to figure out a way to come
when you’re holding a phone,” Bob said. His voice sounded normal
again, his manner relaxed. “Did you really come?”

“
Yes!” Robin giggled, and
then took a deep breath. She hadn’t recovered yet! She tried to
control her breathing a little more, and then realized what he had
asked.
How curious
, she thought. “Why would I fake it?”

“
Don’t ask me, sweetie. Some do.
Probably to end the call that much sooner. But you did great! And
now you know what phone domination is. Or at least, my
style.”

“
It was hot,” Robin admitted. She
pulled herself up, and leaned against the side of her bed. Why on
earth would someone want to end the call even faster? “I liked it a
lot.”

“
Well, you can call me any night after
eight at this number. If it’s busy, I’m probably with another one
of my little slaves. But you could try looking for me out on the
line.”

“
Oh, I don’t know if I could afford
that. All those minutes could add up real fast.”

“
Call the courtesy number, my dear.
Women who call and talk to those poor, frustrated men out there
don’t have to pay. It’s part of the economics of SM; hell, it’s the
politics of sexuality in general, according to Betty Dodson. Women,
whether they’re mistresses or slaves, are at a premium. Men, also
regardless of role, are deeply discounted. You get in cheaper at
the SM clubs too.” He sighed, and sounded like he was stretching.
“Yes, you have wandered into a whole new world, sweetie. Take it
nice and slow. It’s been known to swallow people up.”

Robin nodded to herself. “I can believe
that.”

“
The next time you call, ask for the
operator. They’ll give you the local number to call. And they know
me, too. So if you’re looking for me, you can ask the operator if
I’m on, and she can put you on my channel. I’ve got to go now,
sweetie. You were a good girl, for your first time.”

“
Good night,” Robin said.

As the phone clicked, she laid it down, and
threw her head back with a sigh. Her entire body was tingling. She
pressed a hand to her chest to feel her heartbeat, and then weakly
gathered up her materials, to hide them away.

That was fun
, she thought, pulling a
T-shirt on over her still stiff nipples.
That was better than reading
anything. And it’s so convenient! Just call and pick someone up and
do it! What a great invention it was!

But not what you’d call a real sex life.
After all, it’s just an extension of what I’m doing by myself.
It’s... masturbation by media.

Oh God. I am so pathetic.

I’ll never actually do this stuff with a
live person. But what else can I do? At least it’s better than
being totally alone. It’s the best I can hope for, now.

Leon arrived again, this time with a
splendid paella―shrimp, clams, mussels and scallops over saffron
rice. There was a light herbal broth with soft, hot bread to begin,
and a spicy tomato salad on the side, and even a bottle of white
Burgundy, compliments of his master. This time, Leon stayed to
serve the meal, and Robin ate with him, standing in the kitchen,
and watched when he served. She also listened carefully as he gave
her instructions on how to hold her body, or turn her head, or
respond to more than one request at a time.

“
You try to place yourself so’s you
can keep an eye on the dinner,” he said, scooping up some of his
own creation and savoring it. “That way, you can see if the water
glasses are gettin’ low, or if a plate’s gettin’ too empty too
fast. Some masters, they like you to stay by the table the whole
time, in case they need anything.”

“
If I have to stay in the room for the
whole meal, when do I eat?”

“
Ain’t their problem, sister. You
catch it when you can. But don’t worry; they can’t really starve
you. You just gotta be clever about it, an’ find out what they have
in mind. Friend of mine, he’s with some folks that like to see him
eatin’ outta their hands at dinner, begging for food, but he always
gets to eat as much as he wants when he’s in the
kitchen.”

Robin shuddered. “Oh, I don’t know if I
could do that! Beg for food like a dog at the table?”

“
Oh, you’ll do it, sugar. If that’s
what your master wants, that is... OK, they’re ready for more wine.
Now, Mr. Parker ain’t gonna want seconds. You watch me
close!”

And Robin did. Sure enough, Chris raised one
hand to indicate that he didn’t want any more of the wine, but
Rachel allowed Leon to serve her. And before he returned, she took
a pinch of his shirt between her fingers and said something softly
to him.

“
Now here’s another thing,” he said
when he got back to the kitchen. “You gotta get used to bein’
dressed up and stripped down, over and over again.”

With a grin, he shed his shirt and trousers
and shoes and piled them neatly in one corner of the kitchen. His
body was long and slender, but hard in places, his stomach tight
and rippled. His cock was held suspended in a sheer black
undergarment that looked like a jock strap, but left even less to
the imagination. His body was shorn of all hair under his chin, and
he had a very even tan. The golden necklace/collar seemed stark and
powerfully attractive against his throat.

“
You’re very handsome,” Robin
whispered. He was. There was a beauty about him, a grace that
defied ordinary language. He didn’t have the same almost mystical
aura that Greta possessed, but Robin could see that the two of them
had much in common. They both attracted her, grabbed her attention
aggressively and held it like a mirror holds the attention of a
child.

“
Why, thank you, honey. You’re a sweet
little beauty yourself. Now eat up. We’re gonna have to get the
coffee out soon!”

And when he returned, there were sounds of
pleasure and appreciation, and Robin watched as he did his work
around the table, stopping to pose when Rachel told him to,
submitting to her lingering touches as he passed. Chris seemed to
ignore Leon’s state of undress.

He’s made of
stone
, Robin
thought, taking one more succulent scallop and washing it down with
cold water. She hadn’t been offered any wine, and despite wanting
some very much, she didn’t even try to ask.

There was no dessert, but Robin helped Leon
serve the coffee, trying to follow his every move. It was an utter
failure. What motions he made naturally seemed awkward to her body.
She couldn’t even keep her arms steady when carrying the tray,
although she didn’t make a clatter when she set it down. Even
standing still seemed difficult; while Leon became a golden statue,
her chest rose and fell with exaggerated power, her fingers
clenched and relaxed, and she became itchy in places she wasn’t
generally aware of.

When Leon was finally dismissed, amid
laughter and fond teasing, Robin was left with the clean-up, which
she dispatched in an almost mindless fashion. It was getting hard
to think now. There were more questions than ever, and fewer
options that she really wanted to consider.

Was Chris serious when he offered her to
Rachel? And who exactly was Rachel anyway? Did they work together?
Who were the bosses? Ken Mandarin had said something about Chris
working for someone else―Grendel Elliot? Was that the name? So who
was Alex?

And all the things that Leon spoke about!
It wasn’t just how to set the damn table and which wine to serve
with which course, but dammit, it was how to smile, how to turn
your body, how to be unobtrusive
, yet utterly available. It was a million rules about
asking questions, or answering them, carrying drinks or food and
setting them down. It was information about where you knelt if that
was what was required of you, and how to take food from someone’s
hand.