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The rest of the day felt strange to her. The choker felt heavy on her neck, and the anklet should have been distracting, but she found herself surprisingly clear-headed. Her focus in her remaining classes seemed unnaturally intense, and her notes, she knew, were very good. In the time between classes, she tried to puzzle it out; she should be distracted, unfocused, worried about tonight, worried about what she had gotten into. It was as if her confusion and angst over her behavior of the past month, of her rape by Jeff, of her response to that rape, of her submission first to him and then to Steve, seemed to melt away at the feel of the chains around her neck and ankle. The feel, she realized, was comforting; she didn't know why, but she believed, truly believed, that Steve would keep her safe, would keep secret her needs, her desires. They would be simply girlfriend and boyfriend. Sure, they would have sex, perverted, twisted, wrong sex, but boyfriends had sex with their girlfriends--it wasn't strange in any way. She still had to keep even that much from her family, but it would be worse if her true needs were found out.
It was with these thoughts running through her head that she stood in front of her closet at 7:20 picking out clothes. Amy had stuck her head in and had gently teased her about going out on a date, and she had blushed and told her to stop and help her pick out something nice, so now she and Amy flipped through the clothes in her closet rejecting one outfit after another until Amy pulled out her 'little black dress' and held it up.
"This one," Amy said, smiling. "This'll make him crazy."
Stephanie looked at the dress*, and couldn't help but agree, feeling a rush of warmth as she though of how he would react. "Perfect," she said and took it from her friend and started to put it on.
"Here, let me find those sandals that look so good on you," Amy said as she got on her hands and knees and started rooting around under Stephanie's bed. "Ah, here they are," she exclaimed, pulling up a pair of black ballet shoes** with an ankle wrap-around.
Stephanie looked over as she settled the dress around her, smiling as she saw the shoes, knowing they would go perfect with the dress. As she sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to slide the shoes onto her feet, Amy commented on her new jewelry.
"I like the choker. Did your new beau get it for you?"
Stephanie looked up, her hand sliding along the platinum chain on her neck, a flush rising to her face as her mind turned to what it represented, that she belonged to him, that she was a kajira. "Yes. Just today. He gave me the anklet too." She straightened her leg, turning her foot this way and that, displaying the anklet for her friend.
Amy shook her head. "You sly girl. I'm mad at you. Here you were getting yourself a man and you didn't even tell me." She frowned teasingly, her hands on her hips.
"It just happened so fast, and besides, I'm not even sure I'll want to go out with him again after tonight."
"Well, you're sure getting dressed up for it."
"He said he wanted to take me someplace nice."
Amy smiled, "I'm sure he's going to want to do all types of 'nice' things to you tonight, girl."
Stephanie's heart lurched. "Stop it. It's just a date. I'm not hooking up with him or anything like that."
"Tease."
"Slut."
Amy left her room as Stephanie made her way to the bathroom to touch up her makeup.
Steve was renting the top flat of a home only two blocks from the apartment she shared with Amy, so she left her own apartment at 10 minutes to 8, butterflies making her stomach quiver as she walked up the hill. Standing before his front door, she smoothed her dress down nervously, took a deep breath, and knocked, knowing that soon she would be at the mercy of her Master, her cunt slick with the thought. She jerked slightly when he opened the door, his eyes seeming to consume her, a slight smile on his face as he took in her dress and her shoes. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a solid, long-sleeved crew-neck t-shirt pulled tightly against his chest. It was a nice chest, she thought, even as he turned and she heard him say "Follow me."
She followed him up the stairs, her eyes admiring his backside, her breath quickening from more than the climb, knowing her only reason for being here was to serve him, her Master. The mere thought made her knees go weak as lust flashed through her. As she stepped into his flat, into his living room, she quickly took it all in; it was almost Japanese in its aesthetic. A black suede couch stood before a large flat-screen television in a cabinet, DVD and XBox also in the cabinet; a coffee table stood between them, with a few lamps. A bike hung from a hook in the ceiling near the far corner, next to two large, curtained windows. The living room opened into the dining room, a simple wooden table with six chairs, which in turn led into a butler's pantry and a hallway.
All this slid across her senses as she took a few steps into his living room, her steps faltering, shock filtering through her as she saw Jeff standing from where he had been sitting on the couch, a leer on his face as he looked at her. Her pretty Asian eyes widened, and she glanced quickly at Steve, betrayal filling her mind, stunning her, as he half turned toward her even as Jeff came closer, making her step back a step.
"What's wrong, Stephanie?" Steve asked, glancing at Jeff.
"What's he doing here?" She hated that her voice cracked as she challenged him.
"Jeff?" She was shocked that he looked almost puzzled, as it should be perfectly natural that he should be there. "He's my friend, and as he pretty much gave you to me, I decided that, as long as he asked, he could throw a fuck into you whenever he liked. Tonight he felt like it."
His words were like a slap, the crudity of them making her cringe. She wasn't some whore, she thought, some slut to be passed around, squelching the part of her which said that that was exactly what a kajira was.
"Fuck you," she said, "I'm leaving." With that, she turned to go, rage flooding her.
Motion flashed across her peripheral vision, and suddenly she was jerked back, a shout pulled from her as she stumbled against the pull on her hair; she felt an arm around her neck, her shoulders pressed hard against Steve's? Jeff's? chest, something filling her mouth. She screamed and found it muffled, her jaw stretched, and realized that she was gagged with a rubber ball-gag, Steve holding her head against his body as she started to fight.
She grunted as his arms slid down her body, gripping her in a bear hug, her arms trapped by his as he lifted her off of her feet even as she tried to fight him, her tongue pushing madly at the gag in the mouth, her nostrils flaring, rage and panic melding as she was manhandled. Suddenly Jeff was there to her side, his hand against her twisting face, holding in the gag even as she tried to scream through it, his other hand awkwardly grabbing the straps, pulling them tight, letting him free his other hand to slide the bindings into place.
She was panting, kicking, raging, helpless, realizing for the first time how much stronger Steve was than she, fear racing through her because she knew they were going to rape her, rape her like Jeff did, hating herself for the wave of lust that flooded her at the thought. She didn't want this, she thought, she didn't want to be kajira like this--she had just wanted to be kajira for Steve, for one man. She screamed in frustration and kept struggling, the sound muffled and weak even to her own ears.
He held her there until she tired herself out, long minutes, until all he could hear was her panting breathing, and she hung limp in his arms. He waited for a little to make sure she was done, and spoke forcefully, "Kajira don't say no to their Masters. Kajira don't fight them; they don't require gags. You wear my collar. You are mine."
He spun her around, dropping her to her feet, his hands gripping her shoulders painfully, his eyes boring into hers as she stared at him defiantly, even as she quailed inside.
"Help me take off her dress," he said to Jeff, and she began fighting again, but she was no match for two men who outweighed her by at least 50 lbs each. In no time she was nude between the only two men who had had her, tears running down her face as she had finally given up fighting, barely noticing as Steve bound her wrists in front of her with soft leather cuffs.
Shaking from the adrenaline, she watched through her tears as Steve tied a rope to the chain between her cuffs even as she whimpered and squirmed beneath Jeff's hands as they pinched and prodded her ass and thighs and breasts, reminding her of their intentions for her. She staggered as they led her to the corner--at some point the bike had come down, and she shook her head, her eyes begging as she looked at Steve, even as he tossed the rope over the hook and pulled, forcing her arms over her head, forcing her onto her toes, her shoes still on, stretching her body sexily, her small breasts pulling tight against her chest, her waist narrowing, showing her hips and ass to advantage.
She found herself staring at the corner, a window just to one side, curtained, she thought gratefully, so that no one could see her shame, with a ball-gag in her mouth and her balance precarious on her toes. Her breathing was heavy through her nose, and she felt her long hair brush against the small of her back. She had to calm down, she thought, she had to regain control. She shivered as Steve stepped in front of her, the warmth of his body seeming to flow across the mere foot that separated them. She grunted and twisted her body when she saw him reach for her, unable to prevent him from placing his hands on her, his touch seeming to burn her.
"I didn't want to do this, Stephanie," he said clearly, holding her eyes as she trembled in her bondage.
As he stepped away from her, she turned her head, catching sight of Jeff, his belt folded in his hand, hanging near his side, and her body flashed with heat as she remembered how he had whipped her ass as punishment for avoiding him, realizing that this was going to be harder, more intense, her slender body stretched to its limits, her body pulled taunt, exposed for punishment from both men. She sobbed into her gag as she heard Steve slid his belt from his waist, whimpering even as she twisted slightly in her bonds. She didn't want this, she told herself, doubt creeping into her even as the first blow struck her lower back, jerking her forward more from the shock of the blow than the force of it.
She tried to focus past the blows as they started to land against her back, her ass, the backs of her thighs, sending sharp, slapping pain across her flesh, making her grunt and writhe from the hook overhead. They came slowly, intermittently, as if each man was waiting for just the right moment, and watching the results of each blow, watching the trembling and shaking her her firm, sexy flesh.
Her thoughts slid past the pain, trying to make sense of everything. Steve had said that they would be boyfriend-girlfriend, that only to each other would they be more: kajira and Master. Kajira, the word filled her mind, and she gasped through the gag as another blow landed against the top of her buttocks, sending searing pain through her body. She wanted Steve, Steve with his sure confidence, his control, his knowledge of what she wanted, needed; she wanted to be his, to serve him, but not like this, not like a thing to be passed around to his friends. His words, so crude, so degrading, "throw a fuck into you," ran through her head, and anger welled up behind them, turning to a scream as another blow crossed her shoulder blades.
She would never, never, she thought, and then the question he had asked her earlier came to her, "What are you, Stephanie?" seemed to echo through her mind, "What are you?" echoing in those cool tones of his. What had he asked of her tonight? To let Jeff, who knew her, who knew her perversions, who had already had her, take her one more time. Why had she reacted as she had; why had she fought so hard? Her mind seemed to spin--she didn't understand what she was feeling. She should be enraged, fearful, and she was, but she should be more so, and then her answer to Steve's earlier question came back to her as another blow landed against the back of her thigh, making her suck her breath hard through her nose, nostrils flaring, her feet dancing a bit as she fought for her balance.
Kajira. Suddenly she seemed to step outside of herself, everything fading away but the cuffs around her wrists, the hook in the ceiling, and the two Masters behind her. She had answered 'kajira', a female slave, no, a female animal, property, a thing serving at her Master's will. The picture in her mind clarified, a slender young woman, her body stretched for punishment, on the balls of her feet, bound, her ass and back criss-crossed with red marks from her beating, and lust flared through her even as both belts came down across her ass, sending shocking pain through her flesh.
She had refused her master, and she quailed inside. Why? Jeff was safe--Jeff knew. She shouldn't have; it was her Master's right to offer her to Jeff (no one else, she thought to herself; someone besides Jeff was too terrible to contemplate). She was being punished for her refusal, as was appropriate. She deserved it, she realized, deserved it for failing to be a proper kajira. Her heart, racing already from adrenaline, seemed to speed up, and her flesh felt like it was burning. The next blow across her shoulder blades sent a flash of pain across her back, followed by a pulse of pleasure centered at her cunt, leaving her gasping in reaction. Again and again as the belts landed the strange combination of pain followed by an electric jolt of pure bliss sent her mind spinning, her body trembling, a small trickle of juice sliding down her inner thighs as she struggled to keep her balance.
"I think that's enough," she vaguely heard someone say. "Go ahead. Don't forget to put on a condom."
"Sure, sure." That was Jeff, she realized, her mind regaining focus as she realized they were done punishing her, her back burning and throbbing, her cunt buzzing, her need a voracious animal straining against her will.
Steve stepped in front of her, his body pressing against hers, making her shudder as he reached up and loosened the rope that held her, letting her fall from the balls of her feet, her calves and arms shaking in relief, surprised when he didn't continue, instead stepping back and taking her face between her hands, looking her straight in the eyes. For a moment she wondered what he was looking for as he stared at her, his face giving nothing away, and then she realized he was looking for obeisance, for some sign of her submission. She moaned softly, holding his eyes with hers, and rolled her hips, pressing them against him. She gasped through the gag as one of his hands trailed down the side of her neck, down her body, to slide between her thighs, his touch burning with exquisite pleasure as he slide his hand, now covered with her own juices, across her stomach.
She was mesmerized as he reached up and removed the gag, noticing for the first time the ache in her jaws.
"Apologize, slave."
She swallowed, lowering her eyes, her arms still bound over her head. She could feel Jeff behind her, but all she could concentrate on was Steve, her Master.
She whispered, hanging her head before him, humiliation and a burning lust filling her at her own words, "Your kajira apologizes to her Master. She had no right to act as she did." She took a ragged breath, feeling the pain from the beating she had endured, from the way her body was still stretched, her arms bound overhead, "Your kajira thanks her Master for punishing her as she deserves."
* http://z.about.com/d/fashion/1/0/g/v/2/sheathn.jpg
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