Tar: An apocalyptic horror novella (22 page)

“My my, you are a pretty one. I think we will have fun together.

* * *

T
he next morning
after the man left, Cindy lay in her bed and cried until she had no tears left. Unlike her Master the man had no interest in what she wanted and she doubted that he would have taken no for an answer, not that she would have said no. She wanted to stay right where she was and she was now confident she would. What else could her Master ask of her? Hadn’t she proven that she was willing and compliant?

She lay in bed naked, soft skin shining in the moonlight, cuts and bruises from the cat of nine tales covering most of her skin, thinking to herself that it didn’t really matter what it was. She now knew she was capable of completing any assignment given, especially for the one she loved. The next morning she got up and dressed in her Master’s favourite outfit. It was comprised of white silk panties with the word ‘Please’ across the bottom, knee high white socks and white eight inch spike heels. She stood at the bottom of her bed waiting, knowing he would open her door at precisely 10am as always. When he entered and presented her with the large hunting knife she looked back in confusion.

“You are by far the best submissive who has ever came to live with me Cindy but now our time is up. There is nothing else I can teach you and nothing left for you to learn. You are the epitome of what a submissive should be but I fear there is nothing left for you in this life now.”

This was the first time he had ever spoken her name and after all this time it was to tell her she would be better off dead. The tears flooded from her eyes as for the first time in six months she lost her composure and crumpled to the floor sobbing.

“I know how this must sound but from the day I met you I haven’t seen anything in you but the need to be a submissive. For most people it is a fantasy and a sexual pastime but for you it is all consuming. I don’t know that you will be happy in any other walk of life but I can’t keep you here. I take a new submissive every six months as I enjoy the training with new girls. You’ve served your purpose now. You don’t have to use the knife but I think it’s for the best. It is my last offer of a chance to submit completely. You can leave tonight with everything you came with or you can use the knife your Master gave you and prove yourself to be a true submissive. I have known what’s best for you since we met and I still do but like always you have your own free will and may leave if you choose.”

With Cindy still on the floor bawling she heard the door close and realised her Master had just left her for the last time. She had never felt this lonely before meeting him and she sat wondering if she could start to rebuild her life on her own. She knew that if she set her mind to it she could rebuild her life, maybe even better this time but she wasn’t sure she wanted to start again. With that she looked back at the hunting knife on the floor in front of her and thought it looks identical to the one she used to slit her ex’s throat. Was it a sign? She thought it was.

With that Cindy pushed herself up, using the bed to help. She was used to walking in the massive heels by now but still found it difficult getting up. She walked over to the knife, tears and makeup running down her face and dripping onto her breasts, and curled her fingers around the handle. A smile spread across her face. “Oh I’ll use the fucking knife okay.” She said, her voice sounding hoarse, not having spoken in weeks. She decided not to bother changing her outfit as she left her room for the first time in six months without permission, the silk panties caressing her buttocks and the heels clicking as she marched along the corridor. She knew she would have made quite a sight if anyone had seen. The sound of her heels clicking reverberated around the room and had obviously alerted her Master to her approach. As he opened the door to his room and stepped into the hallway Cindy lurched forward and buried the knife to the hilt in his stomach, wondering how many girls he had got to commit suicide over the years. He looked down, seeing the blood spread, then grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her into the wall, with the knife still sticking out of his stomach. Cindy banged her head and fell to the floor. He started to kick her, surprising her with the strength he still possessed, considering she had just stabbed him. The kicks hit her in the stomach stealing her breath away. She tried to crawl but another kick put her back on the floor. On the brink of passing out she felt the kicks begin to slow, she knew she had to stay awake or he would kill her. Turning her head slightly to see exactly where he was she pushed herself up on her hands as quickly as she could and dove at him from her knees, grabbing the knife and pulling it down as hard as she could. It tore through flesh and muscle as she ripped it into his pelvis, his screams feeling like they would burst her eardrums. She managed to get herself to her feet and pushed him as hard as she could. She watched as he disappeared over the second floor balcony, the look on his face not one of dominance.

As she stood there in her panties and heels, no longer white, blood covering her, she smiled. If she was going to have to rebuild her life this was as good a place as any to start. This time she would be the Domme.

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C
opyright
© 2016 by Iain Rob Wright

Cover Artwork by Stuart Bache at Books Covered Ltd

Editing by Autumn Speckhardt

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