Slave Jade (16 page)

Lisa did know the drill, and accepted it now, as part of her life, as the only way to survive. Eagerly she leaned over and sucked as much of the soda as she could before Gilbert pulled the can away.

“Slow down, save some for later. This is all you're getting, so pace yourself.” She sat back, her expression blank. Gilbert slapped one heavy breast, and then the other. “Oh!” Lisa cried, moving back a little at the force of his blows. He struck her several more times, liking the slapping sound, and the way those big tits jiggled together when he hit them. Some serious breast torture was in order, but first, more fun with the popcorn.

“Okay, stick your face in the bowl. You can eat as much as you can till I call time. Ready, go!” Lisa dipped her head in the popcorn bowl, snuffling like a pig. He watched her a while with amused contempt, his cock hard as steel.

When he decided she’d had enough, he barked, “Time! That's it.”

Obediently she sat back. Her cheeks were covered in butter grease, her hair falling into her face. She eyed the Coke can thirstily.

“Go ahead, take a drink. Then it's time for some real fun. I'm going to whip you into shape and then take my doggie bitch for a walk!”

Lisa barely noticed the slur. She didn't care what he called her, as long as he took care of her and fed her, and didn't beat her too severely. She drained the can, and this time he let her. She sat docilely as he wiped her face with a wet paper towel.

He led her to her prison and told her to stand still in the middle of the room. Going to the footlocker, he removed several items, including the little stepladder. Locking her wrists in the leather cuffs, he bound them together in front of her, secured them to a chain and forced her arms high over her head.

He produced the nipple clamps, which he had used on Lisa before, though not extensively. But this time he had another chain, with a third clip on it. Lisa stood quietly as Gilbert slapped and pulled at her nipples, forcing them erect. He attached the clips, watching the nipples flush a dark rose color as the clamps cruelly compressed them.

Lisa looked down at her tortured nipples, hissing an intake of breath as her nerve endings registered the pain. It dulled to a throb as he attached the second chain to a little loop on the first, and brought it down to her pussy. With a light kick to her ankle, Gilbert made Lisa spread her legs farther apart. Opening the little clamp, he pulled at the little hood of her clit and snapped the teeth shut on it.

Lisa screamed. The pain seared through her pussy and up into her brain. It burned and stung and she jerked back sharply. “No!” she cried, and as she jerked, she managed to shake the clamp loose, and it fell, dangling from the first chain, whose teeth still held her nipples tight.

“How dare you!” Gilbert shouted, his face close to hers. “How dare you pull away like that! Don't you ever,” his words were punctuated with a slap to her face, “ever pull away from me again! Who do you think you are? If I decide you can take something, you damn well take it, or pay the consequences!” He pulled her close to him, and again kicked her ankle.

Lisa spread her legs, but she was breathing hard, and instead of the usual blank feeling of resignation and indifference, real terror roiled in her gut. Gilbert ignored it, or more accurately, was spurred on by it. He reattached the clamp, letting it bite into her tender clit, again making her scream.

“Take the pain,” he murmured into her ear, holding her close against his chest now in a lover's embrace. “Take it for me, slave. Take it for your master. You belong to me. Give into the pain, slave. Exalt in it. It's all you have. It's what you were born for.”

Lisa stilled in his arms, not because his words soothed her, but because it hurt less to stay still. The pressure of the clamp had the same effect now as on her nipples, and she found the sharp pain had dulled to a throbbing pulse that she could tolerate.

“Much better,” Gilbert crooned, still holding her close, grabbing her ass cheeks and squeezing and massaging them. He let her go, and this time took a dog collar from his trunk. He secured the collar around Lisa's neck. A long clip hung from the center, dangling against Lisa's sternum. Instead of attaching a leash to the collar, he pulled at the chain between her breasts, pulling it up and clipping it to the collar.

As a result, Lisa's nipples and clit were pulled painfully up, held taut by the chain secured to her collar. Every time she moved, the teeth ripped agonizingly against her sex. “If any of the clamps come off again,” Gilbert whispered, “I'll whip you till you bleed.”

He took the nasty single lash, the rubber one colored a bright garish purple. A sear of pain flashed across Lisa's ass and she jerked involuntarily, causing the desired increased pain in her nipples and especially her cunt. Again it landed, and again she jerked and felt the cruel bite of the teeth magnified.

As the lash continued to fall, Lisa's back and ass became a stinging wall of abraded flesh. Her nipples had numbed but her clit still throbbed with pain.

Then a strange thing began to happen. The lash was used no less vigorously, but for some reason the pain was gone. No, not gone exactly, but changed. Transmuted, somehow, into something different.

Pleasure? No, not pleasure precisely. Something more intense than mere pleasure, or mere pain. Lisa felt a curious calm descend over her. The panic that had seized her only a moment before seemed to dissipate, and her head fell back of its own accord. This actually increased the tension on her nipples and pussy, but she didn't seem to notice.

Or rather, it didn't seem to matter. She felt every stroke, and every pull of the chains, and yet she also felt her heart slow from its hammering crash. She felt her breath ease and slow, deepening into a slow pulsing rhythm.

Whatever was happening, it was welcome, and peaceful. Panic had completely subsided into calm, like a still pond on a summer's day, after the storm has passed.

A moment before writhing and gasping, Lisa went oddly limp. At first Gilbert continued to whip her, unaware of what was happening. He paused, wondering if she’d passed out. Yet she wasn’t slumped over. She was standing tall, breathing deeply and slowly, almost as if she were asleep. He stared at her, wondering what was happening.

And then all at once he knew. From his copious readings on the subjects of submission and masochism, he knew what he must be witnessing. Lisa was “flying.” She was in that curious submissive head space, as some of the so-called experts referred to it, where a sub could take huge amounts of pain and, while still experiencing it, process it on a different level. A sublime level.

His slave girl was flying! Thanks to him! Gilbert had had the courage and wisdom to bring his lover to this marvelous brink. He felt extremely pleased with himself, and began to whip her again.

But the break had been too long, and Lisa was coming out of whatever trance-like state she'd fallen into. Now she shrieked again as the lash struck her, and the teeth ripped against her. She renewed the dance, that old dance of futile avoidance, and was begging once again for mercy.

He'd do it again, Gilbert vowed to himself. He'd take her to that place again, and she would love him for it. But for now he'd had enough of whipping his slave. It was time for her walk.

Dropping the whip, Gilbert climbed up and released Lisa's arms. He removed the chain, but kept the cuffs, securing her arms behind her back. Lisa stumbled forward and almost fell, but Gilbert moved quickly enough to catch her.

“Come on, stop that. Stand up and open your eyes. It's time for your walk, little doggie.” So saying, he took the chain of her clamps and tugged it, leading her out of the room, each jerk making her gasp with pain. Just for fun he led his naked and chained girl around the house. “Be glad I don’t take you out back, little dog, and make you do your business in the grass.” He watched with amusement as she shot him a terrified look. He loved to jerk her chain, literally and figuratively. Not that he’d ever take her outside. Not until the night they escaped together into their new life.

They stopped at the door of the master bedroom. She had never been in his bedroom. In all this time, he hadn't deemed her worthy. Maybe tonight was the night? Maybe he'd let her sleep in his bed. After all, she had flown under his whip. She had succumbed to the infinite pleasure that pain could offer to the willing submissive. Maybe she had earned a night bound at his feet. He would have her wake him by sucking on his cock. Yes, that sounded hot.

He took her into the room, cluttered like the rest of the cottage with the bed, the bureau and an old armoire crammed with ancient suits packed in moth balls. Gilbert lead her in, refusing to let himself care what she thought.

He pushed her to a sitting position on the bed and carefully released the clamps, first from her nipples, and then her clit. Lisa hissed her pain, her hands flying to her nipples and then her pussy. She moaned, rocking as the blood suffused the tortured parts and reawakened the nerve endings. Gilbert sat beside her, smoothing her hair, pulling it back, enjoying the way it cascaded in soft waves down her back.

They would have to leave soon. His cash was running low. He would force her to withdraw her money. They would fly away to the Caribbean, where no one could ever track them down. She would be so thoroughly brainwashed, or trained, as he preferred to think of it, that she wouldn't dream of leaving him, and they would live out their lives in the bliss of a D/s relationship.

Gilbert was pulled from these idyllic thoughts by Lisa’s cracking voice. “Please, sir. Water.”

It had been quite a while, hadn't it? Yes, she could have water, and maybe something to eat. He'd let her eat here, in his bedroom, and then they'd have sex, and go to sleep together. Just like real lovers. But they were better than lovers. Far better.

He let her drink her fill, and empty her bladder in the toilet. Then he fed her a grilled cheese sandwich, forcing her to open her mouth for each bite, making her wait until he felt like dropping in a piece. Feeling especially expansive, he fed her another whole sandwich and the greedy girl ate every bite.

She smiled at him beatifically. “Thank you, sir.” He nodded magnanimously and they lay down together on his bed.

“It’s so soft,” she breathed. Yes, to her it must feel like the finest feather bed, after the hard, lumpy mattress she slept on each night. He stroked her skin and reveled in her closeness.

Either she was lying or just stupid, but he was feeling too magnanimous to care. “Never mind. That's what they call it – flying. It's a trance state, induced by intense pain, mixed with sexual pleasure. It happens to real subs. To submissives who are able to let down all their defenses, and really give into the pain. To ride it like a wave, to become one with the pain.

“
You, my dear,” he said fondly, patting her head like she was a child, “have finally given in enough to let go. You're a difficult case, Lisa, but I think I'm finally getting through.” He felt self-important, like a research scientist who is announcing his important breakthrough discovery. “I've finally found a way to reach you. And we'll have many more sessions like that one, you can rest assured. I'll make you fly again. I'll teach you to fly on command.”

Lisa wasn't sure she liked this, and rather than resting assured, she rested apprehensively, remembering the sharp stinging grip of the clamps against her nipples and clit. Her sex throbbed now at the memory and she pressed her legs together.

But soon she forgot her fears, as Gilbert used her body. He stripped naked, and had her climb over him, her pussy poised over his mouth, his cock at hers. He forced his cock deep into her throat, and told her not to move as he tongued her pussy to several orgasms. Then he fucked her mouth for a while, forcing her to take it deep, so that she couldn't breathe until he pulled back and let her grab a breath, before he plunged back.

He pushed her off him and said, his voice husky with lust, “I'm going to fuck you up the ass. You'd like that, wouldn't you, whore?”

Lisa was a virgin in this department, and not at all sure she would like it, but dutifully she nodded her head, knowing it was pointless to resist. Luckily, he lubricated her asshole and his cock with large dollops of KY jelly, before positioning himself at her ass.

She felt the head of his cock press against her sphincter. It hurt and she tensed, making it hurt all the more. “Don't resist me!” Gilbert insisted. “You're tensing up and that just makes it worse. Here's what you do. Spread your ass cheeks for me. It'll make it easier, and it makes you look more like a slut.”

Lisa obeyed, and was vaguely pleased to discover it did make it easier. Her own hands opening herself made it impossible for her to tense her buttocks muscles. This time when he pushed in it barely hurt until he was about halfway in. Then a sudden sharp pain shot through her rectum and Lisa dropped her hands, trying to steady herself against the bed.

“Relax,” he said, “that was the worst of it. Now I'm almost all the way in. Just relax and stay open for me. Do it, baby. Do it for me. God, you're so tight, so tight. This is better than pussy!”

He started to fuck her in earnest, thrusting hard into her. “Jesus, you look so hot,” he moaned, pulling for a moment completely out of her ass. “Your asshole is gaping. You’re such a filthy whore. There’s nothing I can’t make you do.”

He slammed back into her. Thank god he came soon after, shuddering and spasming against her as he released himself inside her. His scathing remarks had caused a few more switches to flick back on inside her brain. She felt humiliated and defiled. She hated the idea of her most private orifice left gaping for his inspection. Her faced burned with shame.