The Enslaving of anna

Chapter 7

Well, all that contract bullshit was out of the way. Now we could get down to the real thing. It's all hocus pocus crap, of course, like the ceremonies priests perform, as though their "transubstantiation" rituals turn bread into flesh in any real way. There's no force of law involved in a slavery contract, even the wishy-washy contracts that spell out all the things a Master can't do and give the slave the veto power of "safe words." What the hell kind of a slave is that? What kind of a Master puts up with a slave who can dictate her limits and walk out if he crosses the line? Not me, kiddo. It was not the Law that now bound anna to me inextricably for as long as I chose to keep her. It was not a legal document that would compel her to accept whatever torture I invented for her. It was the power of her own mind, an unbreakable psychological fetter forged in the words she spoke and sealed with the pain and humiliation of that dark, forceful ceremony.

I could have made her suffering much greater, of course, but that could wait. There was plenty of time and opportunity ahead. For me, pain was an art form and anna was now a living canvas for my artistry. She had no real notion of the hellish extremes I was planning for her. And there was no question in my mind of it being abuse because I planned to do it in such a way that she'd end up craving it. I would create in her an insatiable need for pain and sex, and still more pain.

The day following the ceremony I ordered her to start a journal that she was to update every day with an accounting of everything she did. She was also to record what was on her mind because now not even her thoughts were private. They belonged to me, along with her body. Stripping her of any sense of ownership or privacy, mental as well as physical, was vital.

Many Masters fail in their role because they allow their slaves to find ways to be dishonest with them, such as not mentioning things that might lead to punishment. There was no doubt in my mind that anna was as capable as anyone of dissembling, so before allowing her to reside in my house, I had installed numerous secret cameras, microphones and bugs to catch her in any deceit. In truth, I had looked forward to doing so; the punishment would be severe. Unfortunately, anna was maddeningly honest from the start and confessed every transgression openly that had been caught secretly with the surveillance equipment. She even confessed things that were beyond the scope of electronics, like uncharitable thoughts about me after a particularly stressful session in the dungeon. This gave me no shortage of reasons to punish her, but no excuse to push her to extremes. Arbitrary severe punishment might very well shock her out of the carefully laid psychological conditioning that had cemented her slave mentality. Patience! Patience! I would get her to where I wanted her like the turtle: slow and steady.

In the meantime, I was still having fun. One chilly day, for example, anna became really bothered by the cold. The hidden cameras caught her shivering and stopping now and then to curl up in a corner of the couch, hugging herself for warmth. Finally she grabbed one of my bathrobes and put it on so she could go about her housework uninterrupted. When it came time to assume her waiting position by the door with the whip and martini, she carefully replaced the robe and dutifully waited in the nude, shuddering periodically. She served me a fine roast pork dinner, ate my scraps out of her bowl on the floor, tidied up and presented herself to me in the living room for the evening debriefing. Mind you, I hadn't yet seen the tapes when I asked, as always, "Have you been a good today, slave anna, and obeyed all the rules?"

Without hesitation she said, "No, Master. I was very cold today and put on one of your robes to stop shivering."

"You put on clothes without permission? You know that's forbidden."

"Yes, Sir. And there's worse."

"Worse?"

"Yes, Sir. Before that I tried to get warm by curling up in a corner of the sofa."

"You used the furniture without permission? That's very bad. Why didn't you curl up on a rug? That would have been proper."

"I tried it, Sir. The floor's drafty and made it worse. I know I broke two rules and must be punished for it, if it pleases you, Master."

As usual, I had to resist the impulse to sweep her up and kiss her, she looked so damned cute kneeling there with her face an adorable complex of contrition, fear and determination to be brave. But I kept my own face impassive as I passed sentence, concocting a careful mix of praise and condemnation.

"You did well to report these offenses, anna. Were there any others today?"

"Yes, Master. Twice I caught myself with my lips closed. But I worked hard all day to clean the house and prepare your dinner and tried very hard to obey all the rules you've posted. I wrote in my journal and did three loads of laundry. I was just so cold, Master. I was shivering all day. But I know there's no excuse for disobeying."

"That's right. There is none. I will take your honesty into consideration when I punish you, but the nudity rule is inviolable. Had you called me at the office, I would have given you permission to turn up the heat, but never to cover your body. And certainly I would not give you permission to use the furniture. Your punishment must be sufficiently harsh to drive those two points home. You understand that, don't you anna?"

She stared at the floor, fear crowding out the other emotions in her voice. "Yes, Master, I understand. If it pleases you, treat me as harshly as you wish so that I'll learn my lesson. I am yours."

"Well said. Now go to the dungeon door and stand there with your head bowed in shame, and wait for me."

She got to her feet immediately and scurried down the cellar stairs. I left her standing alone down there for twenty minutes, keeping an eye on her with my office monitor to make sure she didn't lean on the wall or fidget. But she was still as death.

When I felt she had stewed long enough worrying about what punishment I would dole out, I ambled slowly down the stairs and unlocked the dungeon door. She followed me in and stood to one side, her head still bowed, as I closed the door behind her. I positioned a small table in the middle of the room and ordered her to bend over it and grab the far edge with her hands. This was a typical beginning for light punishment, so she quickly laid her body over the table and waited.

"For failing to keep your lips parted, you are sentenced to ten strokes with the belt, five for each instance. For your honesty in reporting the violations, I will reduce the sentence by half. I want you to count the strokes and thank me for each one. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master."

She closed her eyes. She hated the belt and the sight of her lying there, so young and beautiful and eager to please, melted my heart. But with so few strokes for her punishment, I had to make them memorable. Accordingly, I brought the belt down hard on her exposed rump. She jumped and emitted a series of gasps, absorbing the stunning pain. But, good slave that she was, she forced herself to settle back for the next blow, a stripe the width of the belt emerging on her white bottom.

"One,"she said, when she had caught her breath. "Thank you, Master,".

By the time she had counted the fifth stroke and thanked me for it, she was biting her lip to hold back her tears, her bottom ablaze. After she kissed the belt, I ordered her to remain with her torso on the table but to put her arms behind her back, grabbing her elbows with her hands. I secured them in that position with three small belts and told her to stay there while I prepared the next punishment.

I extricated a cast iron chair from my corner collection and placed it under a chain hanging from a ceiling pulley. The seat of the chair was a honeycomb grill, much like the cooking surface of an outdoor barbeque pit. Perfect for what I had in mind. Seizing anna by the hair, I pulled her off the table to a standing position, removed her leather collar and replaced it with a heavy iron version, 2½ inches wide, hinged in the middle and clamped shut with a 5/8 inch bolt and nut. It was rusty and uncomfortable, with its aura of ancient torture chambers and hopeless captivity. anna had never worn such a device but seemed more excited than nervous. She would soon change her mind.

"You like furniture, anna," I remarked wryly. "Sit down on that chair."

She did as she was told, of course, and said nothing as I bound her ankles and knees together. When I drew the chain down and attached it to the single ring in her collar, she had no reaction until I pulled it up so taut that the iron collar nearly lifted her off the seat. Next I put clamps on her nipples and attached them with cords to the seat in front of her crotch. That made her wince. As the pain from the clamps intensified, I put a 3/4 inch dowel in her mouth like a horse's bit and tied it tightly into place with leather thongs. Now she could only produce whimpering sounds and drool. I produced a metal washtub and emptied into it two bags of ice cubes. I always keep a good supply of packaged ice in the freezer for just such an occasion. Lifting her feet, I shoved the tub in front of the iron chair and planted her feet in the ice, securing them in place with a rope tied around her legs just above her knees and cinched down to the handles of each side of the tub. Then I poured in two more packages of ice.

"You thought you were cold today?" I said. "Now you'll find out what cold is really like. But don't worry. I'll provide you with warmth to compensate."

I left her fretting about her rapidly freezing feet and found a space heater in a storage area outside the dungeon room. I also located a large, round metal tub. My intent was to direct heat at her ass through the grill seat, but since space heaters are designed to shut off when tipped on their back, I placed the heater inside the tub to collect the hot blast and deflect it upwards. I plugged in the heater, turned it up high and shoved the tub under her seat. Brief spasms of shivering had begun to shake her naked body, but the introduction of the heater put a stop to that. Her relief was short lived. As the iron grill heated up and the welts from the session with the belt responded to both the grill and the scorching hot air from the heater with redoubled pain, anna squirmed and tried to lift herself away from the seat. The effort made the nipple clamps bite more savagely into her already tortured breasts. I knew that the pain would soon drive her to yank free of the clamps when the pain resulting from sitting on the grill became intense enough, so I added another chain over her lap and around the seat that prevented her from rising more than five inches, a position she could sustain for no longer than a few minutes at a time before her burning leg muscles would no longer hold her up. The garbled noises emanating from around the bit in her mouth were a testament to her distress, as much as her writhing and hopeless attempts to escape her predicament. The sight made me incredibly hard, but she would take care of that need later.

"Think about the cold at your lovely feet and the warmth on your sweet bottom for a while, slave anna, and how much better it is when you suffer a little discomfort rather than disobey an order. Will you be covering any part of your body without permission from now on, anna?"

She shook her head vigorously, saliva spraying from around the bit.

"And will you be feeling the need to use the furniture without permission?"

She made desperate little noises as she continued to shake her head. Her eyes were wild.

"Good. I shall leave you here for a while, just to make sure the lesson sinks in."

She lunged at her chains and made pitiful squeaking sounds, but I calmly left the room and closed the door. I'm sure she thought I had abandoned her and that she might be roasted alive before I thought to come back. But I watched her carefully on the monitor. She was much too valuable a property to risk serious harm.

In fifteen minutes she was obviously close to collapse, so I rejoined her in the dungeon.

"So tell me, anna, will you be staying off the furniture from now on unless given permission?"

She nodded slowly, grinding her teeth against the unrelenting pain.

"And do you agree that you must never cover your nakedness for any reason unless given specific permission?"

Again she flopped her head in assent, making little gasps as she struggled with her torment.

"Then I shall release you from your punishment."

I slid the heater out from under her seat — literally now a grill — and removed the chain around her lap. She struggled to stand up, but her strength was gone and she could not break the grip of the nipple clamps. I took them off in a quick motion and she screamed through her bit as blood rushed back in and she was slammed by a fierce pain. I removed the collar and the straps that bound her legs together and to the chair. When I helped her out of the tub of ice, she stumbled on numbed feet and would have fallen had I not caught her. Her legs trembled as I stood her up and removed the bit and the straps binding her arms behind her.

"What do you say, anna?"

She tried to speak but her throat was too dry. It's difficult to swallow with a gag in your mouth. Most of your saliva is lost in a stream of drool. She whispered instead.

"Thank you, Master, for punishing me."

I replaced the harsh iron collar with her regular leather one, attached a leash and led her up the stairs to my bedroom. She fell to her knees twice along the way, but I remained patient and didn't scold her. An examination in the bedroom revealed the amount of pain she had suffered. Her entire posterior was bright red with a latticework of purple stripes where the hot grid had seared her skin. Her labia were also inflamed and swollen from the intense heat. Her feet, on the other hand, were only beginning to change from blue to their normal color. If I had demanded vaginal sex at that point, I would have had to put up with a lot of screaming, or gag her. Instead, I made her get down on her knees and bring me off with her mouth, swallowing the cum. I left her chained to the bed, to sleep uncovered on the hard floor.

 

anna's journal, May 29

Yesterday was a very difficult day. i am lying on my side on the living room rug writing this because my fanny is too sore to sit. i was very bad, yesterday. i broke two rules. i should have known better, but it was so cold! i put on one of Master's robes without asking permission and, worse, crawled into a corner of the couch to get warm.

Well, Master gave me a well deserved punishment that i won't soon forget. First He beat my ass red with a belt, then He strapped me to a metal chair with my feet in a bucket of ice and a heater under the seat setting my sore rear end on fire! If i didn't know better, i would have sworn He was actually cooking me on a hot griddle. i couldn't quite stand up because He'd chained me to the chair and connected clamps on my tits to the edge of the seat. i thought i would lose my mind from the pain before He released me. i was afraid of passing out and having my ass maimed by the heat or my feet by frostbite. What would happen to me then? Master wouldn't want to keep a maimed and ugly slave.

Thankfully, He saved me just as my strength was giving out. He made me sleep naked on the floor and i shivered through the night, but it's what i deserved. First, though, He let me give him head. i hope that means He still loves me.

I made a special effort to prepare Him a really good breakfast this morning. I even went out into the garden and picked some flowers to decorate the table. It was cold out there, too, with the wind chilling my bare skin. He touched the bouquet and smiled, so i think He appreciated the gesture. He made me dump my oatmeal on the floor and lick it up as a final punishment for yesterday's disobedience, but He kissed me before He left for work, and stroked my cheek. i almost moaned with happiness.

It's strange, even now with my bum so sore i can hardly touch it, i look back on that scene in the dungeon last night and the tingle starts, the one that begins between my legs and runs up through my belly to the ends of my fingers. It was a horrible experience, and yet the memory of it excites me terribly. i almost want to make another mistake so i'll have to be punished. It's scary because i never know what Master will do, whether He'll whip me with the flogger— which hurts in a kind of sensuous, leathery way — or with the bull whip, where the pain is so horrid i usually pass out. And then there's the sort of thing He did last night with the chair. It's not immediately intense like getting whipped or caned, but the suffering goes on and on. Knowing i'll have to confess every little misbehavior and bad thought when Master comes home and ask Him to punish me keeps my anxiety level up all day, but it's also incredibly erotic. Although even when i've been entirely good, Master often takes me to the dungeon anyway, just for His own amusement. i like those sessions because the pain is not so severe. And He always uses one or two of His vibrator toys and allows me to cum whenever i ask Him nicely. Later He makes love to me and lets me sleep in His bed. That's the best part.