Bethany's Sins

Part 3

Bethany existed in a daze. She could remember walking from the church in someone's arms, someone whom she felt that she should hate but ho felt so warm and right as though she had shared some wonderful experience with him. She was vaguely aware of a hideous torture in her recent past, but in her weary and dehydrated state it was impossible for her to piece together her own past. That she had stolen half a billion from various companies around the world was buried so far down that it might have seemed lost forever, though this was really only a temporary state. She knew that she was lying on her back in a closed box, with a tube that gave her sweet-tasting water. She knew that she was safe for now, that she could rest and let herself recover from whatever horrors she had endured.

So she drank the water and waited, drifting into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

When she awoke, Bethany thought she was in hospital. An IV feed had been placed in her arm, and she was lying in a hospital bed in a clean environment surrounded by curtains, just like in a hospital ward. She tried to move, but couldn't. Sensations began to register more fully. She was strapped to her bed, across the shins, thighs, waist and chest. Her wrists were buckled separately to the sides of the table. She could see none of these arrangements, because she was well wrapped in sheets and blankets to keep her warm enough. She knew that she was naked, but somehow that did not seem strange any more. She had not worn clothes for a week now, and was used to nakedness.

Her fall into the hands of Judgement, in the form of the Bounty Hunter, was once again fresh in her memory, etched as though impossible to erase, before it had only been covered by the sands of the desert of dehydration. The humiliation of cumming as he filled her rectum returned and swamped her just as the curtain was swept aside and there, once more, stood the man she knew only as Bounty Hunter.

"Good morning, my sweet thing," he said, but his was not the familiar American tones she had heard before, but a curious mix of European accents, most notably French and English. Unable to move, she waited in dread for whatever would come next, and clearly it showed in her face.

"Do not fret, little one," he said, "Do you not recall how I promised to own you if you survived my employers' cunning devices? Would I really wish to harm so precious an item as yourself? But come, you must wish to know who I really am! I am your owner, of course, but I will allow you to know a name that you may never call me. I am Bernhardt Herrault, and all this is mine." He gestured around the room, and slowly encapsulated Bethany's body in his gesture.

"When you are well, we will begin training you properly. But for now, are there any questions you wish to ask?"

"Yes, please. Where are we, and what's going to happen to me?"

"Wrong questions!" Bernhardt sounded angry, "You will find out the answers in due time. There are just two things you need to know for now, and you had better ask for them because I will not tell you."

Bethany trembled in fear, but thought frantically: "Err, you said I could not call you by your real name, so what may I call you?" she asked.

"First question correct, good girl. You will call me Master. If others whom I command you to call Master are present, then I will be Master H. The others will have their own letters. What is your second question? I will give you a clue: it is like the first..."

"Ah, err, I don't know...you can't mean...what am I called?" Bethany's disbelief and fear at her obvious fate was showing through, despite her desire to remain calm and focussed. This was so far beyond anything she had ever expected in her life that panic was just a few seconds away at any time.

"I do mean that, yes. The answer is that you have no name any longer, though for the time being you will be called 'sweet thing', and you will need to know that until you are well, because many instructions will come your way but you should only follow those directed to you. You will certainly suffer if you do not, and might suffer if you follow those which are not intended for you."

"Please, Master, I would dearly like to know where we are," Bethany tried again, hoping for a clue, something that might tell her what would happen next.

"You are in a bed. I might as well be everywhere, for the power I have over you. I will leave you now." Bernhardt Herrault turned and stalked away, closing the curtains behind him. With nothing to occupy her mind, and still very ill after her physical trials, Bethany drifted back into sleep.

* * * * *

She was woken by the sound of a heavy soup plate being placed on a table across her bed. She was pleased to find that her hands were free now, although she was still strapped firmly down across her legs and body. The bed folded to allow her to sit up, as the nurse (or, young woman dressed as a sexy nurse, it appeared) operated a control.

"Eat this!" were the only words exchanged, and greedily Bethany obliged, in her hunger ignorant of the smirk that crossed the nurse's face.

About half an hour later, Bethany felt as if she was being consumed from the inside. Her stomach seemed to be trying to claw its way out of her by any means possible. She could not curl up or writhe as she would have done normally, and perhaps that was a good thing. She was left in her sitting position, unable to do anything but weep and scream and beg for somebody to help her. In her hellish torment, it seemed like forever until Bernhardt Herrault arrived, but in fact he only let her suffer for twenty minutes or so before revealing the cause.

"Alas, how quickly are the important lessons forgotten, sweet thing. You ate the soup, did you not? You were not told to do so, were you?"

"The nurse...she ordered me to eat..." The pain was making Bethany stammer

"No, she did not. She gave an order to eat, but she did not address it to you, did she? She did not use your identifier. Who are you?"

"I...I...am Bethany..."

"Wrong. You are nobody, but I call you sweet thing, and only orders directed at sweet thing are to be followed by sweet thing, understand? I warned you that you would suffer if you forgot this simple rule, and now you are suffering for forgetting it. And you forgot the other simple rule. Who am I?"

"M...Master. You are Master."

"You do know, but you neglected to use my title correctly throughout our conversation. For that reason, I am withholding the antidote to the poison that has you wracked with pain. You will endure another ten to twelve hours as a result. Good day, sweet thing!"

Bernhardt turned swiftly to leave.

"Master, please, I'm sorry!" wailed Bethany, desperation at last making her words clear, but from behind the curtains, she heard the door close and she was alone with her agony.