Out of Oblivion (6 page)

Chapter
7

I was glad when the weekend arrived. Kurt and I needed to discuss his recent behavior. So when I sat down at the table to eat my breakfast, I decided it was as good a time as any. I held his hand, hoping that would soften the blow.

"Kurt? You know I love spending time with you, but seeing you every moment of the day is getting to be too much. We need time apart as well. I'd like to see some of my other friends too. I'm feeling a little smothered, and I just need—" I squealed when he squeezed my hand so tight my knuckle cracked.

Throwing my hand to the side, he stood over me, scowling, and backhanded me so hard I fell out of the chair. The coppery taste of my blood filled my mouth.

Kurt bent over me, wrapping his fist in my hair. "You stupid fucking bitch. Do you think I don't know what's going on?" He shook my head and slapped me repeatedly as he spoke.

I shielded myself with my arm as I cried out. Why was he acting like this? "I don't know what you mean."

"You've been dating that bastard Dominic behind my back." He lifted me by my hair so I was now on my knees.

"No, it wasn't a date, and it was just the…"

Kurt punched my gut. "I know you've got the hots for him. I saw how you looked at him at the play party."

He dragged me across the floor. I tried to free myself from his grip, but he pulled my head back and slapped me again. We stopped in front of a door he had always kept locked. I assumed it was storage space, but when he opened it, stairs lead down into a basement. He flicked the switch on the wall, but he didn't give me a chance to get my feet under me before he dragged me, thumping from step to step. When we reached the bottom he tossed me onto the cold, hard cement floor.

"Please, Kurt. I swear I never did anything with him. It was one lunch."

He kicked me in the stomach, and I curled into a ball, suddenly terrified. Did he plan to kill me?

"Did I tell you to speak?"

"No," I said, my voice quavering.

"Then shut your mouth."

I sobbed and hoped he would stop hurting me if I appeased him.

"Sit up," he ordered.

I struggled into an upright position. As I did, I took a quick glance around the room and gasped. In one corner was one of those wooden x-shaped things I'd seen at the play party. In fact, it reminded me a lot of Brant's basement, except that this one wasn't finished. The floor was stained, unpainted cement, and the walls were white-washed cement blocks. It reminded me more of what I'd picture a dungeon to look like, and I had the impression it was the effect he'd been going for. Various implements hung on the wall, including a whip. I panicked when I saw it and tried to run up the steps, but he grabbed a fist full of my hair and wrapped his hands around my neck.

"If you keep resisting, I will make you regret it."

Kurt tightened his grip and didn't loosen it until I stopped fighting. Then he led me to the middle of the room where chains dangled from the ceiling. He fastened both of my wrists in leather cuffs. They weren't padded, so they dug, painfully, into my arm as I tried to balance on my toes to take some of the pressure off my shoulders and wrists.

"Please, Kurt. Why are you doing this?" I asked between sobs.

"You need to learn you belong to me and only me. Now no more talking. You don't talk until I tell you to. If you speak out of turn again, I'll gag you."

He left me hanging there a moment while he removed a bar from the wall. It had similar cuffs attached to the ends as the one's binding my wrists. He fastened one cuff to my ankle, then forced my legs apart before doing the same to the other. Now my legs were spread, and I could barely touch the ground. My shoulders bore all of my weight, and they were already aching under the strain.

Kurt left me again to grab something from a nearby cabinet. I screamed when he approached me with a knife.

"Don't, Kurt. Please, don't hurt me. I swear I don't care about being with anyone else. I just want you."

That wasn't true now, but he didn't need to know that. All I wanted in that moment was to get away from this psychotic bastard.

"Oh shut up, you lying, fucking bitch," he said as he cut my clothes off. When he finished he went back to the cabinet and returned with a rubber ball with leather straps attached. He held the ball to my mouth. "Open."

When I didn't do as I asked, he pinched my nipple and twisted hard. As I opened my mouth to cry out, he shoved it in and fastened the straps behind my head.

"I warned you if you didn't keep your mouth shut, I'd gag you. Eventually you will learn to do as you're told." He tightened the straps, so they tugged on the sides of my mouth. "When you moved in with me, you became my property. You belong to me. I've helped you with your problems. I've treated you like a queen, and you've repaid me with complete disrespect. Now you'll learn your place."

I tensed as he grabbed the whip from the wall. I tried begging and pleading through the gag, but it was no use. My words were garbled, not that it would have made a difference either way. When the first lash of the whip came, I screamed. There was no way I could have anticipated the searing pain. I barely heard Kurt as he spoke.

"All women are manipulative bitches. You can't help it. It's just in your nature."

Another lash sent white-hot pain across my abdomen.

"You use men for your own pleasure, and then when you grow bored with us you move on."

Another lash on my thigh.

"I won't let you move on."

Another strategically placed lash between my thighs had me screaming and pulling on my bonds. That and involuntary shivering adding to the pain in my shoulders. Please let him stop.

"It's my job as a man to put you in your place, so you can't walk all over me."

Several more lashes fell across my back before he spoke again. When I cried out my voice cracks, and then there was no sound.

"Men in today's society have become weak because of all that gender equality bullshit, but I'm working to change all that. It's time we put women back in their place."

Another lash across my breasts.

"Of course, it will take a while for the rest of society to catch up, but it will happen. This is your life now. You are mine."

After a while I couldn't understand his words. The pain was all that existed. I didn't even notice when he took the gag out and released my ankles from the cuff. He was loosening the ones on my wrists when I finally came back to reality. Kurt caught me before I fell to the floor and forced my arms to my sides. He may as well have ripped them off. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

Kurt chuckled at my distress and dragged me to a half wall that separated the back part of the basement from the front. Only a small gap on the left side of the wall would allow someone to walk through. He bent me over the wall, forcing my legs apart.

"Your body is mine to use in any way I please. Women exist for a men's pleasure," he said then he raped me.

It seemed to go on forever. Every thrust sent new waves of pain through me. I cried in relief when he finished, but my torment was just beginning. He took me to a corner of the basement where the floor dipped toward a drain hole.

"Get on your hands and knees and don't move."

I struggled to do as he said as he grabbed a hose from the wall that looked like a smaller version of a fire hose. He opened the nozzle, and a jet stream of water stung my already sensitive skin. I tried to move away to escape it, but I hit the wall. I curled into a ball, covering my head with my arms, but even that didn't allow me to catch a breath. By the time he finished, I was coughing and gasping for air.

Kurt grabbed a fist full of my hair, forcing me back on my hands and knees as he pulled me across the floor, and led me to a dog cage on the opposite side of the wall. After forcing me inside, he bolted the door with a padlock. I sat with my knees pulled to my chest—that's all I had room for—as he headed up the stairs and turned off the light. He left me soaking wet and shivering in the cold, dark basement.

*****

I didn't know how long Kurt was gone. I tried everything to break out of the cage. If I hadn't been in so much pain, I might have been able to break the door off or something, but every inch of me hurt and the pain weakened me. Not that I knew what I'd do when I got out. Kurt would stop me before I could leave the house, but if I could just get out there and make a scene a neighbor might call the police. I attempted to kick the door of the small cage again and winced as my back was pressed against the thin metal bars. I just couldn't get enough leverage.

When the light came on, I squinted and stopped my struggles. Kurt's heavy steps made the stairs creak. I held my breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him set a paper bag down on a nearby table and pull things out. He stacked cans in a cabinet and pulled out two dog bowls. One, he filled with water, and set it on the floor near the cage. He left the other on the table. He still hadn't acknowledged me, but I hoped he'd let me out soon. I felt cramped, but I was too scared to say anything. The last thing I wanted was to be whipped again. It wasn't until he removed a dog collar and what looked like a dog tail from another bag that he finally acknowledged me.

"You are nothing but my little bitch now. Dogs need training, so that's what we'll be doing," he said, opening the cage. "When you learn to show respect, you may earn special privileges, but until then you will do exactly as you're told. You need to learn your place."

I hated that he kept repeating that. I needed to learn my place. What the hell did that mean? Kurt reached into the cage, pulling me out by my hair. I whimpered as my muscles protested the movement. He pushed my head to the floor, reaching a hand under my belly pulling up my lower half so my bum stuck in the air.

"Do not move," he told me.

He spread my cheeks apart, and I felt something cold and wet dripping over my anus. Then he pushed something into me where things just shouldn't be going. I cried out and pulled away. Kurt grabbed my hair and yanked my head back and smacked my bum hard several times making me cry out again.

"I said do not move. If it happens again, you will be whipped."

"S-sorry," I whispered.

He smacked me hard again. "You will not speak. Dogs do not speak, they do as they're told."

Kurt forced my bum in the air again and forced the cold thing into me. I cried out, but didn't dare move again.

"Dogs have tails," he explained. "I will remove yours twice a day so you can take a shit. Otherwise, it stays put."

Though it was in now, it still hurt, and I couldn't stop crying. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled me upright onto my knees.

"Be quiet," he said. "It doesn't hurt that bad, and if I want you to feel a little pain you will learn to accept it and be grateful. Every sensation you experience from this day forward will be at my whim whether it is pleasure or pain. Pain will be a part of your life every day now. Get used to it and stop the blubbering."

Next Kurt put the collar around my neck. "You will wear this at all times. It marks you as my property and your status as my little bitch."

I pressed my lips together to silence my sobs, but I couldn't stop my body from shaking. He grabbed the collar and led me towards the water bowl on my hands and knees.

"Drink," he ordered.

I cupped my hands to bring the water to my lips, but he kicked me. I couldn't stop from crying out.

"Not with your hands you stupid bitch. You are a dog. You will drink like a dog."

I leaned my head towards the bowl and attempted to lap it with my tongue, but it wasn't working. Hoping it wouldn't earn me more punishment, I put my lips into the water and sucked the water into my mouth. When I finished, he shoved me into the cage.

"You will not be fed today, little bitch. Your behavior has been atrocious."

He locked the cage and went back upstairs, leaving me in darkness again. I knew this couldn't last forever. If he didn't let me show up at school the following week, people would be aware. Jason would notice I wasn't there, and he'd tell Dominic. Yes. Dominic already suspected Kurt was up to no good. He would know something wasn't right and help me.

Then it hit me. He had been trying to help me, and I was so caught up in feeling sorry for myself, because he didn't show enough interest in me, I completely ignored his warnings. Worse, I treated him horribly. Maybe he'd given up on helping me now. I should have listened. He was right about Kurt. Why didn't I listen?

Chapter
8

It took a while to fall asleep, but eventually I was so exhausted I must have passed out. The creaking of the steps woke me. Keeping my eyes open was hard until they adjusted to the light. He grabbed one of the cans out of the cabinet and opened it, spooning its contents into the other dog bowl. I assumed it must have been Sunday because he was dressed in a different set of clothing.

Kurt set the bowl on the ground next to the water. It smelled like dog food. He pulled me out of the cage by my hair as he'd done before. I took several quick breaths to keep from crying out as tears pricked my eyes. Without waiting for my joints to adjust movement, he tugged on my collar and led me to the bowl. I was right—it was dog food. I gaped at the bowl.

"What are you waiting for, little bitch? Eat."

I leaned my head towards the bowl, but the odor made my stomach convulse.

"If you don't eat it will be waiting for you later. Eventually you'll be hungry enough to eat it."

I whimpered and closed my eyes, pretending it was something else as I took a bite. It didn't taste as bad as I thought it would, but knowing it was made for dogs was enough to make me sick. I gagged a few times when I tried to swallow, earning a nudge from Kurt's boot. He stood over me until I finished the bowl.

"Drink."

I slurped up some of the water. Then Kurt attached the leash to my collar and led me up the stairs and into the back yard. When I tried to stand, he pushed me back to the ground.

"Dog's do their business on all fours."

I was mortified as I looked around the yard to see if we were alone. Thankfully, he had a high fence around his yard. Unless one of the neighbors looked out a window on the second floor, they wouldn't see me. He removed the tail from my bum.

"Squat and go," he said.

I sniffled, but did as I was told. When I was done, Kurt rinsed my lower half with the jet setting on the hose. I winced when he replaced the tail. No doubt I'd be tender there for a while.

When we returned to the basement, Kurt put me over the half wall again while he had his way with me. "We are going to have to make some changes. You will need to quit school."

I sucked in a breath. He couldn't do that.

"It will interfere with your training as will your friends and family. You will be calling all of them today and telling them you've found a new life, and they will not be a part of it."

"I can't do that," I whispered, before I realized I had spoken the words aloud.

Kurt yanked my head and rammed himself into me hard. "You will do as you're told, or you'll be whipped."

I cried silently as he finished, feeling all my hopes of rescue crumble. Without bothering to clean me up, he led me upstairs as he had before and handed me my phone.

"Call your parents first. Get it over with."

I dialed their number. Kurt stood over me with the whip in his hands as a reminder. I hoped they weren't home, but no luck. My mother answered.

"Mom?"

"Sweetie, you don't sound so good. Is something wrong?"

I gazed at Kurt, who raised his eyebrows, his expression hard.

"I'm okay. I was just calling because… well there's a lot going on right now in my life. A lot of changes. You…" I bit my lip stopping the sob from breaking free and cleared my throat. "You won't hear from me again."

I felt sick.

"Haleigh, what are you talking about? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry mom, it's difficult to explain. I just have too much going on. I have to go." I hung up and sobbed.

Moments later the phone started ringing. It was my parents calling back.

"Don't answer," Kurt told me.

Saying goodbye to my friends, the ones who still spoke to me, wasn't as hard. I was numb after what I had done to my parents. When I was done, Kurt took me back to the basement.

"Now, your training can really begin," he said. "There will be nothing to distract you."

*****

One day blended into the next, and my only way to track the passing of time was the routine, but even then, I lost track of the days after a while. Every morning, Kurt dragged me out of the cage by my hair and put me over the wall and beat me either with a cane or his belt, depending on his mood and what he felt I deserved or needed. He told me the daily beatings would help me forget my past life and accept my new one. It would also teach me I was completely at his mercy. When that was done, Kurt would feed me a can of dog food. He always stood over me, making sure I ate every bite, and then he'd take me to the yard to "do my business".

During the day, when Kurt was home, I followed him around the house on all fours. If I didn't stay on his heel, I was beaten. If I accidentally bumped him, I was beaten. Often, he would either walk too fast or stop short on purpose so he could punish me. When he left the house, he'd lock me in the cage until he returned. And now that he had me at his beck and call, he had sex with me whenever he wanted it. Since I wasn't allowed clothing—because dogs didn't wear clothing—it gave him easy access.

When Kurt ate his meals, I'd have to kneel on the floor next to him. The smell of real food usually made my stomach rumble, which would often elicit a scowl or a kick from him. After he finished eating, he'd take me for another "walk" in the yard then feed me another can of dog food in the basement. Then he'd hose me down and lock me in the cage for the night.

Now that Kurt didn't have to pretend with me anymore, he introduced me to the true nature of his work. He had told me he helped women with their relationship problems, but the way he did it was nothing I could have ever imagined. He solicited himself to rich women in unhappy marriages—most of them trophy wives—and helped them live out their sexual fantasies. Of course, an intelligent women would leave the relationship and find true love, but these women didn't really care about love. They cared only about wealth. They loved the lifestyle and social status wealth brought them.

Instead of going to his clients, he started bringing them home. Apparently he'd only stopped this after I moved in because he wasn't ready for me to know what he did for a living. Now it didn't matter. Most of the time he'd lock me in my cage when he had a client over. Most of them didn't know about me, and their fantasies were simple enough he could keep it to the bedroom. The same bedroom he had given me when I moved in had been used for this purpose.

Some had more adventurous fantasies, and he'd bring them to the basement. These women knew I was there, and that I was his pet. Sometimes they'd pet me as if I were a real dog. It didn't seem unusual to them that this man kept a girl locked up in his basement. It made me wonder if they were as psychotic as Kurt. Then I'd be left in the cage and forced to listen as he pleasured these women over and over for hours.

On rare occasion, he'd get a client who had a fantasy that involved another woman. They often liked to watch him rape me or beat me, and sometimes they would join in. I'd be forced to go down on women as he raped me or caned my bum. They would all get off on it while I cried. The women thought it was great and often told me I was a great little pet. It sickened me. I never knew how many messed up people there were in the world.

One of his regulars, an obese woman he called Mistress Wendy, loved playing with Kurt's pet bitch.

"I want her to lick me 'til I come," Mistress Wendy said one day.

Kurt removed me from the cage and brought me over to a chair where she was sitting, her legs wide.

"You have three minutes to make her come," he said. "If you fail, Mistress Wendy gets to spank you as hard and for as long as she likes."

Mistress Wendy clapped her hands with glee, obviously loving the idea. I bit back a cry of protest. I knew he was setting me up to fail on purpose. I closed my eyes. I always closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was somewhere else when I had to do this. Mistress Wendy grabbed a fist full of my hair and pulled me to her crotch. She smelled like rotten eggs, and I wondered when she had bathed last. I had to force myself not to start heaving. I held my breath when I could and pretended again. I was on a beach in Hawaii, and my mom and I were lounging in the sun and drinking cocktails while my father surfed. It didn't matter how old he got. He never gave up surfing. He loved it. That's why they moved to Hawaii when I was a baby.

"Time's up," Kurt said, bringing me out of my fantasy.

He pulled me over Mistress Wendy's lap by my hair.

"May I use the paddle on her today? She deserves a reward after doing so well. She didn't make me come, but damn was it nice having her tongue on me."

"Of course." Kurt handed her the paddle off the wall.

She wasn't gentle, and I was sobbing after the first two strikes with the paddle. By the time she finished, I knew I'd have bruising. Back in my cage, I couldn't even sit. I curled up in a ball on my side, which left me more squished than normal. My anger rose as I listened to the woman's moans and cries of pleasure. Kurt had told me all women were manipulative bitches. What made her better than me? He hadn't allowed me to have an orgasm since shortly after I moved in. After all the torture he'd put me through, I deserved some relief… some pleasure.

I lifted a leg, wincing at the pain in my bum and masturbated. Kurt might think my only purpose was to be pleasing to my Masters and according to him all men were my Masters, but I had needs too. I thought I had been quiet, but when Mistress Wendy left, Kurt came to the cage. He pulled me out and had me on my hands and knees with my legs apart.

"If you move or cry out, you will get the whip instead," he told me.

Then he used the cane between my legs. Staying quiet was hard. I had to bite my lip to refocus the pain and hold my breath at times to stop the scream I knew I was about to let out. Staying still was harder. Every instinct told me to flinch from the pain, but I just focused on the whip hanging on the wall. That would be worse than what was happening right then.

"You will never touch yourself again. This body," he said, grasping one of my breasts hard for emphasis, "Is for my pleasure. Not for yours."

He attached a set of leather cuffs to the cage and from that point on, I was bound while I was in there.