Alex was late. She was never late. He did not nervously pace, did not move anything but the fingers of his left hand, gently and patiently tapping on the arm of the chocolate leather chair he was stretched out in. He sipped sparingly of the amber liquid in his glass. It wouldn’t do to be the least bit out of control when she came home. When he had come home, he had been greeted by an empty house that hadn’t been lived in for at least the last 5 days. When he left, a week ago, he had given her permission to leave the house and use his car. He had also left her in the sexual care of the House of Rom, a fetish house across town.  He had left explicit instructions about her servicing, and had paid lavishly for the privilege.  She was going to be brought to pain for this desertion.

Truly, he did not begrudge her, everyone needs a little time off now and then, and he had expected that she would stay out too late and do a little partying. She was young for this 24/7 gig. But he had been taken by her dark hair and blue eyes. And she had been taken by his direct manner and easy, secret smile. In the early days, before she really knew the way his mind worked, she would call it his Cheshire cat smile. As they grew more familiar, she could read his expression and knew the smile to be a cover for his wicked thoughts.

The hours ticked by, and he set his glass on a side table, rising to pace to the window and look out.  Though he was angry at her for not being where he had instructed, he was also worried about her. When they had worked their contract, he had pledged to take care of her. She in return had pledged to be at his beck and call, to submit to him when called for. They had both agreed that it couldn’t last forever, but the contract had to be ended with a mutual conversation. She was not to desert him, just as he was not to desert her.

He had regretted the necessity to travel and had made his stay in France brutally short. He had been gone for seven days, exactly the amount of time he had promised. He had made allowances for her needs during his absence. He had checked her room and the dungeon, to ensure that she had neither packed up and left nor chained herself to something to await him.  He had found both ruthlessly organized, as he always insisted upon. Her clothes were in her dresser, her suitcases were under the bed. Her collar was set in its box on the night table, where she could put it on every night.

At eleven, he called Rom to check if she was there. His old friend answered in the negative, but there was something in his voice, some note of worry. Kale found his breath stuck in his throat. Rom made an hemming sound in the silence. Kale found his voice again: “Is she alright”

Rom hesitated, then came back with: “As far as I know”

“What do you mean, as far as you know?” Kale’s voice had gotten deadly and low.

“She hasn’t been in since Tuesday. I called to remind her of her appointment, but she never got back to me.”

“And you didn’t call me? We had a deal. What if she got hurt?”

Another awkward silence. And it came to kale in a heartbeat. She had taken up with someone else. His heart thundered to a stop, then picked backup again, rage coursing under his skin. As if reading him mind, his old friend started talking.

“When she was in here waiting for Finn to free up, she started looking over the room, and she kinda fixated on this one dom. She took off with her before Finn came back. We haven’t seen her since, well, either of them.”

His heart slowed once again, his usual calm coming back. “She took off with a dominatrix?” his mouth spread in a smile, showing his white teeth to the darkened room.

“Yep. That’s what we think”

“Which one? And does she know the penalty for trespassing?”

“Here’s the thing, she’s new to the area, not usually here when you two are, so she didn’t know. Plus she’s pretty respectful, and as far as I know has never poached before.”

“Why are you protecting her?”

“I just know what you are like when you are angry”

“Did you call her to let her know?”

“Yes, but she never picked up”

“So my slave and this 'trix are off somewhere, possibly dead or maimed and you have no idea how to find them? I though you monitored your lounges?” His voice has grown sharp with anger.

“Whoa, whoa, down boy. We do. You know we do. Maybe you should come over here and look at this vid. It goes down super fast, you’d just have to blink and you would miss it.” Roms tone is even , steady and calming.

“ I will be there in ten minutes” He hangs up and strides out of the house, grabbing his leather jacket as he goes.

He makes good on his promise pulling into the parking lot by the would-be apartment building. Inside, the rooms are divided into dungeons and toy-rooms, boxes of condoms attached to the walls to prevent the sharing of bodily fluids through toy sharing.

He practically runs over the doorman, who is smart enough to get out of the way and not ask questions. Kale is a common visitor here, so no one troubles him as he takes the stairs up to Roms penthouse.

Rom is waiting at the door, clad only in silk pajama bottoms, the door to his bedroom slightly open off to the right. A small whimpering sound issues from the room, though the contents are not visible. Rom leads him past the bedroom and into the office. Kale pauses by the bedroom door and greets the occupant. “Hello Kelly, glad to hear you are doing well”

“Mmmmpph” she manages to say.

Kale smiles a real smile, open and honest and real, then follows his friend into the office. Kelly is Rom’s wife, and a switch. Apparently it is her night to be on the bottom.

Rom has already keyed up the video and is searching for the bit he wants. Kale looks over his shoulder as figures of people seem to fly by. Rom slows the video a bit when the little time code in the corner reads 11:00. At 11:10 he slows it to normal speed. Kale sucks in a breath as alex walks into the room, her long hair pulled into a high ponytail.  She’s wearing a blue leather vest he bought her to match her eyes. Her breasts are pushed up for the world to see. She slumps on the sofa directly across from the camera, obviously dissatisfied with the action. Idly looking about the room, her gaze is caught by someone out of camera range. The 'trix must have been directly underneath the camera. Kale’s teeth grind as Alex turns on her smile, tilting her head coyly and patting the seat next to her. The response must not have been what she was expecting, because her face falls and for a moment she looks like a petulant little girl. Then she drops her head, playing subservient. Kale’s hands tighten on the back of Rom’s chair as his slave gets up and joins the 'trix, standing with just the top of head visible in the camera. Within bare minutes, the two walk toward the door, leaving the premises. The Dominatrix’s face is never turned to the camera, the only view of her is of her back, curly hair caught into a mass of curls at the back of her head, her white neck showing above the collar of her black coat.

“Wait – Zoom in right there” for a second, the dominatrix’s face is partially turned, and in the shadowed doorway, he could make out a pale cheek, the brush of dark lashes. Her eyes were dark, probably brown, her hair was dark brown in the video.

They pause for a second at the doorway, the dominatrix exchanging some words with the lounge’s other occupant, a sub named Remus. Kale can see the impatience on Alex’s face. His little impatient girl. He should have known she would do something like this.

“Do you know the 'trix?” He questions Rom as they leave the office.

“I met her down in Atlanta, she ran a lounge down there. Its funny you call her 'trix. That’s the name she goes by.” Rom manages a weak smile. When Kale only quirks an eyebrow, he continues: “She’s a nice top, never draws blood, or that’s what I have heard. Her subs always loved her, though she never committed to one for very long. She only takes on females, though I heard a rumor that she was involved with Max sometime earlier.”

Kale paused to think about that. If Kale was a good Dom, Max was a master. The guy was incredibly strict and dominating. He could play the game like no other. And he was the only man Kale had ever met who had more than one full-time slave. Max had three, and treated them like true slaves.

“I thought Max didn’t take on female apprentices?” He questions as Rom pours him a drink. In the bedroom, Kelly is silent but for the occasional quiet moan.

“He doesn’t” Rom lets that comment float as he pours himself a drink and settles into the sofa. “She didn’t go into specifics, and Max was closemouthed about her. I think she was his and somehow got away intact, if you know what I mean” Max was nefarious for taking on nearly dominant girls and breaking them into submission.

Kale sat and drank, thinking about the implications of Rom’s statements. “Do you know – does she dom like him?”

“From what I have heard, no.” he pauses here. “She had Kelly during that time we were separated. She came to me and told me that Kelly had made an advance. She told me she respected my rights and didn’t want to trespass.” He pauses to sip. “ I gave her the go-ahead.” When Kel and I got back together, she said that Trix was the best Dominatrix she had ever been under, that she was gentle but hard, and not vicious like some of the other bitches out there”

“I don’t care about the 'trix, as long as Alex is returned to my care unharmed. If this girl hurts her or marks her in any way, I am going to hurt her the same way” His words are low and fierce, and his knuckles whiten around the glass.

Rom lets that go by, then as Kelly lets out an especially loud whimper, gets up and shows his friend the door. “I’ll give you a call if either of them shows up.” He is obviously sorry he can’t help more, and Kale gives him a small smile and a light punch on the shoulder as he goes out the door.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

“Keep me posted”

“Will do”

At the doorway to the outside, he pauses, hoping that his Alex is safe and will be returned to him soon. He lets out a sigh as he climbs into his car. Not much to do but wait. He drives back across town with a weight against his heart. Pulling into his driveway, he notices that the lights are on. Maybe she has come back! He enters the house in a hurry, then stops to take in the sight of his slave, hogtied on the soft carpet in the living room. An envelope is taped to her back, out of the reach of her twitching fingers. She obviously hasn’t been there for very long. Her mouth is ungagged, and at the sight of him, she starts crying and babbling.

“I am so sorry. She kidnapped me. I didn’t know what to do” She sobs as tears run down her face.

His mind is churning and he is moving slowly, as if judging each action before it is executed. He closes the door and walks toward her, not speaking as he circles around her, inspecting her pale skin. She appears unmarked, her skin is its usual color, with no whip marks or red areas. He reaches down and removes the envelope from her back, surprised when its removal doesn’t cause pain. The clever 'trix had used medical tape. Setting the envelope on a table, he tips Alex onto her side, to examine her belly and breasts. They, like her back and limbs, are unmarked, her nipples slightly reddened from the carpet.

Ignoring her cries for now, he settles down in his chair and opens the envelope to read the letter:

Dear Dom,

I am sorry to have used your property. Unfortunately, I was unaware of your ownership until the fifth day of acquaintance. She informed me this afternoon that her master was due back in town today. I have not injured her in any way, indeed the cruelest I have been is tonight, when I tied her as you find her. Again, I apologize for this unwitting trespass. I return your property unharmed and perhaps a bit wiser. I wish you well.

Trix

He sets the letter aside, listening as Alex subsides into soft whimpers, the cords used to bind her sinking in the longer she struggles. With a sigh, he rises to unbind his slave, then massages the life back into her hands and feet, easing the sore muscles of her arms and legs. She lies prone, giving in to his motions, hiccupping now again, a look of unease on her face.

When he is done, he stands than reaches down to her, offering a hand to help her up. Warily, she accepts his help and he leads her up the stairs to her bedroom. She is surprised when he pushes her into the bathroom and then closes the door. She opens it: “I am sorry, master, she just took me. I was so frightened”

He gives her a bland look. “Take a shower, put on your pajamas and meet me down the hall.“ He leaves before she can reply, and she rushes to follow his instructions, worry growing like a hard ball in the pit of her stomach.

Freshly washed and squeaky clean, she peeks around the door to his room, trepidation sneaking up her spine. He is in his chair, reading a piece of paper. Her heart stills as she recognizes their contract. Her throat contracts. Was he thinking of letting her go? She must have made some small sound of distress, because he looked up to catch her frightened stare.

“Come in and sit down’ He motions towards the bed.

She gingerly settles on the corner nearest him, her soft nightgown settling against her lovely body.

He takes a long look at her, his eyes not softening as they usually do. She shivers at his impartial stare. He glances back down to the contract.

“I have been reviewing our agreement. It says nothing about you being free to run off with strange dommes, or lying to me when you have been very very disobedient. I find myself wondering if you are really willing to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“I…” – he cuts her off with a wave of his hand, and she sinks again into worried silence.

“From your demeanor, I think I believe that you do not want to leave my service yet. Is that correct?” He raises a brow at her and she bites her tongue and nods slowly.

He continues: “So it is up to me to decide your punishment. I wonder what the penalty will be.” He pauses, looking her over thoughtfully. She tries very hard not to shiver. “First lets count your trespasses: You left the club before you attended the appointment I made for you, that’s one. You willingly went to another master, even purposefully tempted her, that would be number two. Then you did not inform her that you had a master, I think that one will count twice, so you are up to four. Then there are the five days you spent with her. FIVE DAYS!” He is angry now, and standing quite close. She is afraid to meet his eyes, so she keeps her gaze downcast, hoping he won’t decide to let her go.

He regains himself a little and turns away from her to face the window. “Five days with another Domme. I wonder how many times you came during that time period.” Her face grows pale and her palm start to sweat. He turns back to her, and observes her waxy complexion. He sighs, and still looking at her, starts speculating. “ I think at the least, you came twice a day, but if she is as good as Rom says she is, it could be more like ten. Perhaps you would like to help me out and provide a rough estimate?” He leans his hip against the window ledge, afraid to get to close for fear of harming her.

She remains still, her eyes firmly focused on the floor, not responding at all. “You must have some idea. Come now, hold up your fingers and tell me how many times you came a day while you were with her.”

She knew she was not going to get away with not answering him, and so she held up two fingers, hoping it would satisfy him. It didn’t.

He stalked over to her, leaning close and dragging her gaze up to meet his. “The real number, if you will.” His eyes burn into hers as he holds her chin in a deathgrip.

Her breath catching in her throat, she croaks: “six……. but not everyday”. He releases her to return to the window.

“Six on which days?”

“Tt..uesday and Wednesday” Her voice trembles with the fear running through her veins.

“What about Thursday?” His grip remains intense, though his voice is calmer.

“Four…” Her voice trails off as she looks into his dark eyes, seeing herself captured there.

“And Friday?”  He releases her chin so she can bow her head in shame.

“O-only twice, sir.” Her eyes are fixed on the carpet.

“And today? How many today?” He has retreated to the window, his broad back turned to her.

“None.. She…” Again her voice trails off.

He nods out into the darkness, pieces falling into place. “She found out that you were not free to give yourself to her. She got angry”

He turns to look at her, but her head is bowed. “Did she hurt you?” The question is phrased in a voice that is soft and tender with love.

Surprised, Alex found her head jerking up to look at him while the truth poured from her lips. “She was angry, but she didn’t hurt me, she just got.. Cold.”  Her thin shoulders hunch as she turned her gaze back to the floor. “She was going to just let me go, but…”

“But what?” Kale is studying her body language, trying to tease out the riddle.

“I…”

“Go on!” he says, in an imperious voice that cuts through the cold calm that has settled between them.

In a quiet voice, she continues: “I asked her to give me back to you. I couldn’t just walk in, like I didn’t do anything wrong. I am so sorry.”

The last syllable comes out in a half-sob, and she slips off the bed to kneel at his feet, tears falling from her eyes. He looks down at her and closes his eyes for a moment, searching his mind for what to do next. Sighing, he kneels down to her level.

“I want you to stay with me. Do you want to stay?”

A teary: “yes, please!” from under a curtain of hair.

“Do you agree to hold to our original bargain or would you like to make changes?”

Shyly “No, not unless you want to” and here she looks up at him, eyes red-rimmed from crying.

“I do.” A pause and he grips her upper arms. “ There will be ramifications for your behavior” He looks directly into her weepy blue eyes.

“Yes” She swallows uncomfortably.

He lets her go and stands up. “Go to bed” Obediently, she rises and starts toward his bed.

“Your bed”

Her face falls and she slowly turns and leaves. He follows her down the hall and gives her a chaste kiss on the forehead before he closes the door behind her and turns the key in the lock. There will be no more running for Alex.

Section 2:

Before he heads for his own bed, he makes a few calls. The next morning, he lets her out and allows her to go through the usual morning ritual; wake, shower, breakfast; all the while watching her through hooded eyes.  He spends twenty minutes pretending to read the paper before she finally sets her spoon down in her bowl.

When he lays down the paper to look at her without speaking, Alex feels the hard knot form in her stomach again. Her face blanches and her fingers twist together in nervousness. His aim achieved, he smiles at her, a most wicked smile, as he rises from his chair with a hand outstretched for her.

They walk hand in hand, his warm and firm, hers pale and cold, to the top of the stairway leading down to the basement. Here he pauses, and she feels her spine tense up in a queasy kind of anticipation, her stomach unsettled. He gently pushes her in front of him, coaxing her down the stairs. She goes, nimbly enough, with a hitch in her breathing, dread and hope battling in her psyche.

She stops by the first door, the door to the dungeon, where they have spent many an eventful time. But he keeps walking, drawing her along with him until they are by the only other door in the basement. She has never opened this door, trying the handle just once in her relationship with him, to find it locked. He had just smiled at her inquisitiveness. She had forgotten all about it.

Now he reaches into his pocket and withdraws a large key. The key fits into the lock and the door opens, smoothly swinging on oiled hinges. The room is dark, a blackness hardly pierced by the light from the hallway. Her feet won’t move, even as she knows he wants her to go in, his hand becoming more and more insistent on her back. She is stuck there, stalled between the utter darkness of the unknown and the fear that she will lose her master.

He encourages her into the room with one hand on her back, not exerting undue pressure, but making his wishes known. This is a test, to see how willing his Alex is to please him. Kale knows what she means to him, and that he would like to keep her as his pet, but he needs to know that she is willing to make the changes necessary to keep up her end of the bargain. So he waits, unchanging, his face impassive as she turns her head to beg him softly with her eyes. He can see her on the cliff, unsure of whether to jump or to retreat to solid ground. He watches as she closes her eyes, licks her lips and steps into the void.

She stands stick straight in the dark, her eyes searching out any sliver of light. He closes the door, and the dark enfolds, them, cloaking all sight.

“Stay” – as if she would do anything but. Her arms are folded tightly across her body as the basement cold starts to seep into her skin. He moves away from her, out into the room, and she bites her tongue to keep from calling after him. She can hear him moving around, obviously very much at home in the inky black. She can hear items shifting, a large piece of furniture being teased into position. Then he comes to retrieve her. Against her own will, she cuddles up to him, her body seeking warmth and comfort from his own. He allows this temporarily while he leads her across the room to the apparatus.

He stops, and takes her hand, guiding it down to meet polished wood, a rail of some sort. He picks her up and seats her on a hard surface, then removes her clothing, piece by piece.

“Lie down.”

She slowly leans back, afraid that she will fall, but her back touches solid wood, and she hesitantly relaxes against the support. He moves around beside her, and soon her right ankle is caught in a soft leather cuff.  Then her left, and her legs are drawn outward, a good four feet from heel to heel. Her wrists follow suit, and soon she is spread-eagle and naked in the cold dark. He moves over to her head, and her breath stills as he starts installing something around her face. She cannot see it, but she can feel the warmth of her own skin radiate back towards her.

His major work done, he walks back to the door and flips a switch. The lights come on, flooding the room with white light. She flinches as the light reaches her, suddenly feeling more exposed. There is a kind of visor over her face, holding an arc that almost brushes her nose. She can move her head a bit, but the material the visor is made of is not transparent. The light through the plastic is filtered somehow, made murky and distorted. Light seeps in from the top of her head and underneath her nose, where the arc does not cover.

She lies there, her vision partially obscured, tiny involuntary tremors just under her skin making it vibrate slightly. The lights are bright around her, but other than that, she can’t discern anything else about the room.

He gazes down at her, possession welling inside him. He notes the goose-bumps gathering on her arms and legs, and moves outside the room to turn the heat up. Back inside, he double checks her bondage, the simple cuffs effective.  Normally for a session, he would add on other accessories. But he wants her to rest fairly comfortably while he arranges for her future. So he smooths a hand across her white belly and says:

“Wait here. I’ll come back for you.”

He flicks the lights off as he leaves the room, glancing back at her momentarily as he shuts the door.

After the door closes, not a sound can be heard in the dark, nothing penetrates the room’s walls. She cannot hear him going up the stairs, closing the basement door, walking across the living room.  She is alone in the dark, spread-eagle and naked. She bites her bottom lip and focuses on his last words: He will come back for her.  Over and over, she runs them through her mind. He will come back. He will come back. 

Upstairs, he sorts through the mail, waiting for his appointment to arrive. He monitors his Alex through a camera equipped to record in the dark. She lies there quietly, motionless. The doorbell rings, and he invites his guest inside. She is cautious but curious, sitting gingerly on his sofa as he goes to get her coffee.

She accepts the cup graciously, sipping a few drops before she sets the saucer on the coffee table.

“your call was very interesting. I had wondered if you would contact me.”

“I have a preposition.”

Not given to nervousness, the dominatrix merely raises an eyebrow as he does not offer an explanation. In a contest of strength, he knew he would win, but meeting her cool green gaze, he thought it would be an interesting battle. After a rather loaded silence:

“ As you know, my pet has some…. Behavior problems.”

This produces a tiny smile, blood red lips curving the smallest bit.

“I do.”

“It has come to my attention that I may require some assistance in the matter of ocnverting her.”

Here he pauses, waiting to see if her expression changes. But she could be made of stone, painted to resemble living flesh. Immobile and somewhat regal, and just a little daunting. He reaches out to capture her hand, and is gratified to find it slightly damp, the tips of her fingers cold.

“Converting her to what?” She leaves her hand in his grasp, and her eyes narrow, her chin rises just a bit. A challenge.

He moves his grip, holding her hand in both of his, lightly exploring every knuckle, his large hands warming her smaller one. “I need to know that she belongs to me, is owned by me. She wants to, but just cannot seem to make the actual step without a little….help”

She holds his gaze for a few moments then withdraws her hand and stalks to the window. Looking out at the front lawn, she could be thinking anything, and she stands there for a good minute or two. He feels real nerves crawl down his spine, something he is just not used to.

When she finally turns to face him, he finds his hands balled into fists at his sides, the knuckles white from tension. She watches as he pushes the feeling aside, visibly reasserting his calm demeanor. When he is more visibly composed, she speaks

“ I have no reason not to help you with your…. problem. And  I do feel that my services could be of use to you.  However, I would need to know more details, and also there is the matter of payment. The amount of time I would need to invest would distract me from my livelihood.”

His cold sweat disappears, and the false calm, he had been projecting instantly converts to real calm, though he cannot stop the slow smile from spreading across his face.

“Excellent. Shall we discuss details?”

As they go over details and manufacture a service contract, she reviews the interchange in her head, trying to conjecture the cause for that incredible smile, which had both warmed her through to her toes and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

She walks out of the house an hour and a half later, satisfied with the deal and uneasy about the man she had contracted with. The money was good, and the girl was pliant enough, but the master made her nerves stand at attention. Her car pulls away from the curb as she is hoping that he didn’t notice the slight tremble in her hand as they had shook to formalize their deal.

Unfortunately for her, he had. He trusted Rom, who had vouched for her. That plus she could handle his little pet, as was obvious from Alex’s testimony. In any case, his house was wired from the roof to the sub-basement, and he would have ample opportunity to observe her in action. If the deal didn’t work out, he could always use another pet, and Alex might enjoy having a sister.

Descending the stairs and unlocking the door to Alex’s room, he tore his mind from the red-haired Domme and focused his attention on the blue eyed honey strapped to his table. A smile creased his face, sparking an evil glint in his eyes. He stopped by her side, drinking in her beauty, the lithe limbs captured and held down, the head hidden by the shield.

She could see his shape, had heard the door open and close. Her back hurt from the hard surface, her limbs were heavy and stiff. He ran a gentle hand lightly across her naval, carefully avoiding any particularly sensitive areas. At the touch, she moaned, and Immediately caught herself, biting down on her lower lip to still the sound. But her efforts were too late. He had heard her and smiled in response.

“Best to stay quiet, my dear. It’s time to get dressed. Then I will lay out the rules for this room. “

She lay there, trying to flex her limbs the little bit allowed by her restraints, as he went next door to the dungeon, arms loaded with accessories. He picked out an inflatable gag with a heavy roller buckle to stop all sound issued by the girl. Along with the gag, he had a blindfold, perfectly formed to cover her eyes with no gaps for light to sneak through. He set them down by her head, and took a moment to warn her:

“You need to stay quiet and still. If you make a sound or resist in any way, you will pay for it.”

He paused to graze a nipple with his index finger.

“You will not like the forfeit.”

She bites her lip harder, drawing a tiny drop of salty blood. Her breath rushed through her nose, sounding too loud in the silent room.

“You will close your eyes now, and keep them closed”

Obediently, she squeezed her eyes shut, keeping them closed as he removed the shield from around her face.

“Open your mouth”

Hesitant now, she slowly opened her jaws.

He didn’t let her finish, taking her lower jaw in his hand and pulling her mouth open, while forcing in the gag with his other hand.

Her eyes flew open, and she let out a strangled cry, blocked by the rubber now in her mouth. “Mggggph”

He smiled down at her startled expression, lifting her head so he could buckle the heavy leather behind her head.

“I told you to keep your eyes closed”

At his reminder, she squeezed her eyes closed tightly, trying to ignore the intruder in her mouth.

“too late, baby”

He places the blindfold over her eyes, buckling it too behind her head.

This done, and her vision blocked, He starts slowly inflating the gag inside her mouth. Little puffs of air gradually fill the balloon and he listens to her breathing to measure how full her mouth is.

Alex’s throat spasms, trying hard to swallow, a natural reaction. She moans through the gag as it swells to force her jaws far apart and pin her tongue to the floor of her mouth.

He keeps on going, until the sounds reach a peak and her breath starts whistling through her nose. He pauses for a moment to measure her exaggerated breathing, and releases an infinitesimal amount of air, to ease the passage of breath.

She was keening behind the gag, the sound muffled and alien from under the rubber. It's a cross between a whine and a squeal, he decided. He flicks a nipple, hard, “You need to be very, very quiet.” The words are soft, delivered close to her ear. She senses the threat in the warning, and swallows the noise.

When she is again relatively quiet, he starts assembling his other gear. Time to make his little pet more of a pet, and less of a free agent. Not that the word free would apply to her anymore. He made a meticulous lineup of accessories, in the order in which he would apply them, starting with the hardware.

He hadn’t made any permanent changes to her yet, and he wasn’t planning anything major. Still, he wanted to mark her.  He was a fair artist, and had experimented with tattooing many times. His gun was all lined up, loaded with ink. Alongside it was a box with silver rings, and a set of piercing needles.

He uses alcohol to clean a silver dollar sized area directly over her heart, slightly below and between her breasts. She shivers at the cold, but keeps quiet. When he turns the machine on, she flinches and starts to moan, low and desperate. Deciding that she needs a little more impetuous to be still and stay quiet, he sets the ink aside and buckles her more securely to her table, immobilizing her rib cage and shoulders. He speaks to her once again, “This is going to hurt, but I expect you to be very, very still and quiet for this procedure.” He picks up the set of clamps he's reserved for her nipples, catching each pink point, tightening them only enough so that they wouldn’t fall off. “For every sound you make, or movement, I will tighten these” to give her a frame of reference, he tightens the left just a little.

She squeaks, catches herself midway, and chokes back the sound. “Do you understand?” When she doesn’t make a sound or move a muscle, he smiles down at her. “Very good, my dear. If you are a good girl, this won’t take long at all”

He goes to work, etching a stark black circle, then filling it in with the universal bondage symbol, three swirls, reminiscent of the yin/yang symbol. Just outside the edge, he writes in flowing script: ‘alex: property of her master and no other’. Underneath the symbol is his name : Kale. She's remarkably good through the whole procedure, though toward the end she is obviously getting tired of the pain. She can't help the shudders that run through her body, and she moans with the last letter.

Tattooing done, he removes her nipple clamps and turns his attention to the silver rings and the piercing needles. He uses a desensitizing wipe to clean the area he's going to pierce. She does a little constrained writhe when the cold wipe touches her left nipple. He takes a mental step back, and views her with an eye to movement. The piercing needle is dangerous when paired with unwilling flesh. He fetches more belts with roller buckles, then sets out to anchor her more firmly to the wooden supports she's already tethered to. Bands mold her thighs to the wood, then her calves, then her hips, then her stomach, then her ribcage, her arms, and just above her breasts. Through this she tries her very best to hold still, the odd muscle twitch betraying her racing thinking. The bands are cinched down, nearly painfully, and purposefully. Unwilling sounds filter out from behind her gag. Another band goes across her forehead, anchoring her head to the wood. Her throat works convulsively when he drapes the last band across her throat. He doesn't pull this one tight, careful to allow her breathing to be relatively unhindered.

When she can't move an inch, not a tiny, infinitesimal inch, and the sounds from behind her gag are faint but worried, he resumes his activity with the antiseptic wipe and the needle. In the space of ten minutes, she has a ring through each nipple, her belly button is pierced, and her ears are sport three new silver rings. Her body is doing it's best imitation of a writhe, though the motion is severely curbed by her bindings. As the paid from several sensitive points starts to register, her voice can be heard from underneath her rubber gag. It's a faint keening in time with the small waves of pain  that travel from her abused body parts to her brain.

He lets her keen for a minute, lets the piercings be felt for a moment, calmly watching his captive adjust.  Only two more silver rings are in his little box. Both sites are going to  hurt. He mentally weighs the odds and decides to do the lower one first. He adjust his light, settles in between her spread legs and applies an antiseptic wipe to her clitoris. As the cold hits her most sensitive spot and she realizes what is coming next, the keening turns to a muffled squealing, and her head moves slightly side to side, as much as she is capable of moving.

"Hush and shush, little one" His voice is calm and low, comforting even as he prepares the site for his forceps and needle. "Time to relax and let go. You can't change what is happening here. You can't choose, you need to just let go."

She is unconvinced, and the sound continues. Her body is so incredibly tense, he can see her thigh muscles band in resistance, her legs trying their best to close. He waits for a moment, then two. When it's obvious that she can't help herself, he gives a sigh, then gets up to make his way to where her head is pinned to the board. He leans down, his mouth inches from her ear. "You need to make a decision right now. You can submit to this now from my hands, or I will invite another to come and do this. Either way it will hurt. Either way you will be frightened. But if I need to invite another to come do this, you WILL be sorry." His words are quiet and full of threat.

He knows her well. She calms down in small increments. Her voice quiets to a muffled sob, her muscles relax one by one, with her consciously commanding their obedience. When a minute has passed and she is calm, he gently wipes away the tears that have escaped from under her blindfold and returns to his work.  Her clitoris is cleaned, clamped and then pierced. She is tense but quiet, the pain something she is consciously shouldering. He uses a solution that cleans and desensitizes on all of her new piercings.

The bindings are cutting into her flesh, so he eases their hold until no real damage is being done to the tender skin and the delicate structures underneath. The one around her neck remains, though it is not tight. The band around her forehead stays the same. When the gag is deflated and his hands undo the clasp behind her head, she is surprised.  Her mouth floods with welcome air. By now she knows not to use her voice, though she can't help a little hiccup now and then. The pain from her new hardware is a throbbing reminder that she is not in control of her own body. He leans down and kisses her, pliant lips and tongues meeting,  claiming her even as she responds in like. Her chin is damp from drool left over from the gag. She can feel him smile as he ends the kiss.

"You're not going to like this at all, honey. But you WILL endure" And with that, she knows her trial is not over. Her breath sobs in and out as her tongue is captured by his forceps. He takes a moment to revel in the sight of her, in her helplessness, in her contained fear and fury. Then his needle finds his mark and the ring slips into place and she is done. Her voice is again sobbing, an understated keening, her sore tongue swelling a little from the intrusion.

"Be right back" She can hear as he slips out of the room, and her voice raises in protest, not forming words but conveying meaning all the same. "Shhh" is all she hears before the door slams shut behind him. The room is deathly quiet but for her ragged breathing, every movement of air a reminder that her body has been changed. The site of her new tattoo stings,  her nipples, bellybutton, clit and tongue throb. And she is pinned to the wooden supports like a butterfly in a glass case. She has ten minutes to sit in the dark, owning her own helplessness. She lies there, muscles working in resistance to her bonds, as her body seeks a balance. Her muscles slowly relax, her breathing becomes more even. Her voice settles to a low moan, and tears leak from under her blindfold.

When he returns, she is calmer, with even breathing. She is even quiet, as he opens the door. Her mouth is open, chest is moving with every breath, but the only sound is of her breathing. "Good girl. Such a good girl you are". His hands lightly run over her body, checking the piercing sites for swelling and redness. His hands find her left wrist and unlock the cuff holding it in place. The band holding down her forearm is kept. He folds her fingers into her palm and then curls her thumb down over them, making a fist. He secures it with tape, rendering her agile fingers into a useless stub of black plastic at the end of her arm. The process is repeated with the right hand. Her breathing is more ragged when he is done with this, though she is still voiceless.

"Such a good girl. Stay quiet now." He shines a light into her open mouth to check her injured tongue.  She can feel him close to her face, senses his presence. Slowly she is released from the wooden supports, little by little. He levers her up, allowing her to lean on him for support as he makes her stand. When she is steady, he leans down and cuffs her ankles with soft leather. A short leather thong connects the cuffs together.

" You're going to need to take very small steps, honey. You've got about 26 inches and you're going to need to pay very careful attention to not trip and fall." Her useless fists are clenches by her sides. They soon also sport soft leather cuffs, connected by a similar thong. Her breath quickens and her voice raises, still wordless but with a panicked note. He shushes her with a small sound and a light touch to her face. "You need to stay calm. I can't gag you right now because I don't want you to swallow your tongue, but you WILL stay quiet."  When she is again somewhat in control of herself, he leads her slowly to the door, blindfold still in place. Out the door and down the hallway, she is disoriented by her lack of vision. Even though she has been in the basement before, she is lost. Another two doors to pass through and then they are in a small padded room.  The walls and the floor are all padded rubber, soft enough to not harm his little pet.

"This is your new room. I'll leave you to explore. Be careful of your new accessories." With that he gives a raw nipple a gentle tweak. "There is a bowl of water should you get thirsty. I'll be back to feed you. You'll be allowed to relieve yourself then. In the meantime, You are to be a good little girl." He pauses to emphasize his words. His heavy hand is on the back of her neck, exerting gentle pressure.

Her breath is ragged again, though she is still voiceless. She is pliant as he forces her head down, guides her hands to the floor. She crumples onto her knees, boneless. Her fisted hands are cradled against her body.

"No sounds, now, little one. It's unfitting for a pet to be too vocal." She swallows the words that have been building in the pit of her stomach - What now?.

He reaches down and removes the blindfold. The bright lights in the tiny room burn their way into her startled retinas. She closes her eyes to relieve the burn. He chuckles. "Don't worry, honey, I'll turn them down." He pats her head, her long black hair is tangled from the morning's adventures.

He steps out of the room, leaving her alone. The lights dim as he turns a dial beside the door. He looks through the little window in the door to see her shakily exploring her new situation. Her conjoined hands quest about as she shuffles here and there on her knees. Her eyes are open and she is moving gingerly, with a care to her new piercings. She finds the heavy crockery water bowl and spends several minutes trying to figure out how to get the water to her mouth. He smiles when she finally realizes that her mouth is going to have to come to the water.

He leaves her there in the dim light, clumsily lapping up water in her own little playpen. It's well padded and a balmy 76 degrees inside. She'll be fine while he's working. There are two video cameras hidden up by the ceiling, affording a 360 degree view of the room and it's occupant. He can access these through any monitor in the house. 

He settles at his desk in the den, putting business matters to rights for a few hours. When the clock strikes one, he surfaces from his work-induced haze. He smiles. Time to go check on his little pet. He's been watching her on the TV in the den. She's been quiet and careful. She did some exploring to unsure that the walls and door were actually solid. She made her way to her feet to reach her conjoined hands up as far as she could reach, testing the boundaries of her little prison.

He arrives in the basement with clear cut goals: taking her to the bathroom, feeding her lunch and satisfying his curiosity about her perception of her new position. He takes a few minutes outside her door to establish that the environment is to his liking. When he cranks the lights back up and opens the door, he has her blindfold in his hand.

She's curled in the far corner, arms around her knees. His soundless entry hasn't woken her from sleep. He crosses the floor to stand in front of her. "Alex." He doesn't quite shout, but his voice is loud in the quiet little room.

She startles awake, her wide blue eyes flying all the way up to his impassive face. She opens her mouth to speak, to question him. "Wh.." She cuts her question off when he quirks an eyebrow at her. The unfamiliar weights on her nipples and clit and the ring through her tongue remind her of the events of last night and this morning.

He's quiet and still while he watches understanding dawn. Before she has her thoughts completely sorted out: "You're going to want to assume the position before I start to get angry". His voice is grim, his face cold and impassive.

Her eyes widen as she scrambles to rearrange her long legs and bound hands into a reasonable approximation of the position he taught her when they first met. She kneels with her legs open, exposing her slit with its new jewelry winking from between her folds. Her back is arched to best display her breasts, tender dark pink tips likewise adorned.  Her fists are resting on her thighs, the connecting thong hanging between them. Normally, her hands would be behind her back. This is the bound version of the universal slave's position. Her head is up, and she is staring determinedly at his chin. She won't raise her gaze until instructed, unless she forgets herself.

"Good girl"

She sucks in air through her nose, her mouth is closed, her expression excited and a little frightened. When he reaches his hand out to grip her jaw, she catches herself on the far edge of a flinch, something that does not go by unnoticed. His face becomes a little more wicked, eyes lit by amusement and devious hunger.

"Open"

She opens her mouth at the order, resolved once again to bear up under this new test.  Her tongue is still a little swollen, but nothing to worry about. She's in no danger of swallowing it.

"Up"

He makes no move to assist her as she struggles to her feet, her bound hands not helping in the least. When she's up, her eyes are still focused on his chin. Her mouth is partially open as she sucks in air under his calm gaze.

"Good girl. Hold still"

That last bit shouldn't need saying, but he's always been a soft touch where she is concerned. He wants to give her the benefit of the doubt. He buckles her blindfold behind her head and for now ignores the faint negative sound she makes, the tiny shake of her head. Her teeth worry her lower lip, stress shows in the lines of her body.

"Just relax. I won't let you fall. You ought to know that by now." His voice is slightly chiding. In response, she swallows some of her apprehension and consciously makes her muscles ease, forces her expression to soften. She does know that.

"This is going to be a little different for you, but its the only way to get this started. Open up" And his hand again is on her jaw. She opens her mouth and he quickly threads a ribbon through her new tongue ring. It's a satiny blue, the same shade as her eyes. He brings the ends of the ribbon back around her head and ties it in a little bow at the back of her head. The effect is to loosely limit the reach of her tongue to the inside of her mouth. It's by no means a barrier to sound, so the little moan of apprehension she makes is audible.

"There's a trick to this kind of thing." He talks as he circles her, admiring the lines of her body, applying gentle pressure in places to straighten out her posture, to reinforce his presence. "The point of the ribbon is to remind you that your tongue, and your voice, are under my control. If you make a sound without my permission, without my instruction, you'll be punished. And without the benefit of a gag, you'll always be heard." He finished his circling in front of her, looking again at her lovely face, bisected in two places by the thick blindfold and the tiny ribbon.

"A gag is a treat, a reward. When you're gagged you can make sounds because I'll allow it. Otherwise...." and here his fingers gently flick one of her nipple rings.  The little shock of pain and awareness makes her stiffen again.

He waits for a moment to observe her reaction. Her mouth is closed,  the thin line of blue barely pulling at its corners. Her body is tense, waiting for something to happen.

Content that she's solidly along for the ride, he grasps the thong between her wrists and carefully leads her out the door and down the hall to the bathroom.  It's equipped with a utilitarian shower and a toilet. He guides her naked form to the toilet and pushes her down, and waits while she urinates. When she's done, he guides her to the step in shower and clips her bound wrists to a hook from ceiling, perfectly positioned to be in the middle of the shower.

He takes off her blindfold but leaves the ribbon. Conscious of her sore body parts, he turns the water to a low mist, and uses a container to sluice water over her, soaping her up gently and rinsing her off.  He washes her long hair. When she's all done and shivering from the contact of cold air with warm wet skin, he takes up a giant fluffy  towel and dries her off.

Her big blue eyes are wide and wary, reminding him of a puppy still learning to trust. "Silly girl. Close your eyes." He gently dries her face. That done, he takes a hair dryer to her hair and braids it into a long rope down her back. The blindfold goes back on and he leads her back down the hall to the room where he first introduced her to his needle.

It's a large room, sterile and white but not cold. There's a hook hanging from the center of the ceiling. Her wrists are once again over her head. There's enough slack for her to stand comfortably.  She's been in this kind of position before, so when he taps the inside of her thigh, she knows to spread her legs and expose her sex.

She's wet and ready when he tests her with his index finger. She shudders when his fingers rest on her pierced clitoris, but doesn't make a sound. The ribbon is apparently doing the trick so far. He takes a few minutes to play with her pussy, slowly sliding in and out, skirting that little nub that still aches from this morning.  He keeps this up until her hips are doing that little quake that she just can't suppress. When she's wound up with wanting, he walks away to collect something.

At his desertion, she lets out a little squeak of malcontent, but stiffens when she hears him chuckling, reminded of his instructions.

"Silly silly silly alex. You just can't help it, can you?"

He returns to her and uses a hand to gently stroke her cheek, to smear in the tears once again leaking from the blindfold. He has two items in his hand, a tiny weight on a clip and an anal plug that is already gleaming with lube. He clips the weight onto her left nipple ring, gently releasing it to hang there and watches the sudden intake of breath, the new tension as her body tries to adjust to this new development. Her lower lip trembles and he runs his thumb along it.

"That's for that lovely little squeak, little one. I did warn you."

He walks around to her back, and softly pushes her spine outward, to correct the curvature brought on by the pain of the weight at her nipple. When she is again erect, he edges her legs further apart and gets to work on her puckered anus. He starts gently, easing a well-lubed finger into her, working it around to ease the clenching of that muscle. When she's softened up and is receptive he starts edging in the plug, incrementally advancing it while her hips start to shimmy again. When it's more than halfway home he lays a hand on her shoulder, effectively freezing her in place. His other hand forces the plug in, firmly but gradually. It slides home and she's unable to quite contain a tiny sob.

His smile grows as he walks back over to his table, picks up the tiny twin to the weight hanging off her left nipple. It goes onto the right, completing the set and causing her to shift uncomfortably. She can't see his face or the pleased gleam in his eyes as he watches her squirm. Among other things, she's arousing him to the point where his cock lies heavy along his thigh, throbbing with every beat of his heart.

He glances at his watch. It's almost time to go back to work, but there's enough time for one more thing.

He takes down her wrists and leads her over to the low wooden apparatus she was bound to for this morning's session. He lies her across it, unclips her ankles so that her legs and spread wide. He quickly fastens her down at the shoulders, thighs, waist and settles himself in between her spread legs. The table is just the right height. He uses a switch to tilt it to the right angle, then uses his hands to make her writhe on the table, expectation hanging heaving in the air.

He's out of his pants and poised to enter her.

"Now alex, you need to listen to me. You are NOT allowed to come. Do you hear me? You need to hold it. Got it?"

It's impossible to know if she's understood him or not, so he forges ahead, a part of his mind already devising a plan on how to deal with her disobedience.

He fills her and her hips react to his rhythm. He's going slowly, building her fire up with his own. She's making sounds, little moans and groans of anticipation and pleasure. When he just can't stand it anymore, he quickens his strokes and when she comes seconds before he does, his face twists in a grim and evil smile.

Sated, he steps back and watches as she comes down from the high. She's open and pink, spread out with her many silver rings glinting in the light. Her chest heaves in and out with every ragged breath. She's remembered his edict to not speak and her teeth are worrying the ribbon in her mouth. He sighs.

"I've given you several warnings. I think you must be disobeying on purpose." He starts removing the bonds that hold her down, pulls her up to standing with more force than gentleness. Her wrist cuffs are clipped directly to each other, her ankles are likewise limited.  He picks her up and sits down on the table, laying her face down across his lap. Her weighted nipples bob in the air with every movement of her body.

He uses a hand to smooth over her creamy bottom, to gently tap the base of the butt plug. "Heaven knows that you deserve worse than this, but I'm such a sucker for you..."

He brings down a hand hard across her ass. She jerks in surprise. She's better prepared for the next. He keeps it up until her ass is a solid pink, glowing in the lights in the room. Her lips are tightly closed. She's determined to not make a sound. Her nipples ache and her cunt is leaking her own juice.

Finished, he sets her back on her feet and leaves her for a second. He comes back to buckle a gag over the ribbon still through her tongue. "A little treat for you, since you were so good while being spanked."

He unclips her ankles and leads her out of the room, down the hall and back into her little pen. Her face is flushed, her legs weak. Her ass is bright pink. The weights make her pink nipples sag. He thinks that she is more beautiful now than ever before. He's holding a one-sided conversation with her as he checks the water level in her bowl, pushes her down so that she's kneeling on the padded floor.

"I've decided that I'm entirely too easy on you. It's something I've known for a while. I've been thinking of a solution for a while now. You're little stunt with the 'trix  gave me some ideas."

And here he pauses while  a little shudder of worry goes through her.

" I'm guessing you have some ideas of where I'm going with this. I'll leave you with them for now. Let's just say that you'll have extra reinforcement for the next little while. It's going to be an adventure." His eyes have a twinkle that she can't see, a depth of anticipation and amusement.

She makes a sound from behind her gag, a strangled yelp as he reaches down and flicks a weighted nipple.

"I'm going to give you some time to think about that. I have work to be done. Be careful down here, sweetie."

And he leaves her there alone. Her blindfold is still on, her wrists locked tightly together. She can't help but run the ring in her tongue along the lines of the gag in her mouth. Her nipples ache, her clit aches and she's strangely unfulfilled. She wants more. It's a feeling that is not familiar to her at all. She's nearly always gotten what she wanted. She sobs quietly to herself in her imposed dark, taking comfort in her own muffled voice.