The Slave (9 page)

He didn’t have to ask again; she understood.
“Yes, sir, I will.”

“
Go into my room. Strip, and leave
your clothing there. Bring the object you find on the bed back to
me and present it to me properly.”

Robin bowed her head in a nod
and sprang up and into the hall. Her cheeks burned as she tore open
the buttons of her shirt.
I should have asked
, she cursed, pulling it over her
shoulders
. I
should have asked before I went to bed! Or when I woke up, I should
have just come out and waited for him to say something! God, where
did my brains go?

Chris had made his own bed, and
quite neatly, too. Lying on the bed, centered on the luxurious
patterned quilt, was a leather strap. It looked like a doubled over
belt, with two ends formed into a handle and riveted together. It
had a loop strung through the handle for fastening to a belt ring,
and it looked very old and very used. But in the way of good, rich
leather, its use had made it glowing and supple. Unlike most of the
SM toys she had seen and felt over the years, it wasn’t black with
silver studs or anything like that. It was a deep but light
brown.
British Tan
, she thought, having read the name over and over again in
catalogs.

Dumbly, she thought,
what do you know?
Maybe he is an anglophile. Focus, damn it! Pay
attention!

And then she stripped off her jeans and
folded her clothing in a pile. It had been a long time since she
had been self-conscious about her nakedness, but suddenly, she felt
a shiver of fear. It was daylight now, and she was in a large,
beautiful modern apartment with a stranger. It wasn’t the weekend,
at night, in some darkened place, whether a bedroom or a playroom.
And when she picked up the strap, a tingle ran up her arm, as
though she had picked up a livewire.

Suddenly, she didn’t know how to hold it. In
one hand, her arm hanging down? Both hands? Across her lower body?
No, that would look like she was trying to hide herself. Both hands
held out? No, that would look stupid!

I’m panicking. What’s wrong with me? I can
do this. I used to bring stuff to Troy all the time. And Ken told
me how to present it. I’m OK.

Repeating that to herself all the way down
the hall, she balked only once, when she crossed into a shaft of
light. But she forced herself forward, and reentered the dining
room, where Chris was standing, draining his coffee.

With a calm grace that she had no idea was
in her, she went to him, lowered herself to her knees, and offered
the strap to him with both hands held above her eye level. He took
hold of the handle and snapped his fingers, and she looked up.

He was pointing to the edge of the table.
Robin bit her lip and glanced up once to be sure, and then rose and
carefully stood at the edge, lining her belly up with it. She
gasped when his hand came down in the center of her back and
pushed, hard.

“
You should have assumed the command
to present,” he said, stepping back. “Ten more for that hesitation.
Do not count.”

She didn’t, at least not out loud. The strap
landed on her ass cheeks like a broad band of pain, not as intimate
as his hand, not as sharp as his real belt, but heavy and
punishing, the way a good strap is. Each swing brought it hard
against her, covering her ass, driving her slightly forward,
washing her with stinging pain and solid whumps of impact that
drove the breath out between her clenched teeth.

Like the beating she had experienced
yesterday morning, it was devoid of teasing, touching, or even the
gradual increasing of pressure and speed that an erotic beating
manifested. No, this was punishment, pure, almost dispassionate.
She clenched her fists as well as her teeth and rested her head
against the smooth surface of the table, raising her shoulders when
the impact drove her to unsteadiness, shutting her eyes and trying
desperately to keep quiet.

But her body never felt so alive! Each heavy
slap of the old, polished leather, each careful swing, each
wonderful drive forward, sang through her entire body. Waves of
pain, yes, covering her, washing over her, until sounds were
wrenched from her, sighs and groans, and then whispered, desperate
sounds that started as words and ended as whimpers.

And of course, punishment or not, her sex
opened for the music, and she could feel the dampness of her
excitement, the delicious humiliation of her state. She moaned
once, loudly, and then wailed out her frustration and her agony,
the fire spreading outward, upward and down, catching her again and
again, over sore places not yet healed, over the backs of her
thighs, around the curve of her buttocks.

The strap fled her and returned with a rush
of air, over and over, increasing in speed and strength only by the
smallest of increments, and when her whimpers became little
explosions of sound without meaning and her every breath was
punctuated with the forcing of air, in and out, she wished for
bindings to cling to. It was so hard to simply bend forward and
hold her body still for this abuse!

And then, sharply, it stopped, and she
realized that the glowing in front of her eyes were the tear drops
on the table, shining in the morning light, so clear and so
precisely placed beneath her. Her own breath seemed ragged and
harsh, and heat covered her from behind.

Chris’s hand suddenly came up between her
spread thighs and took hold of her there, cupping her pussy again,
taking it all into his hand, and holding her tightly. She wailed
again; it was too much! Then, as the sound seemed to echo in her
brain, she stifled it, brought it back inward, and coughed out
humiliating little snuffles and gasps as she brought herself back
under some measure of control. The silence in the room grew to such
an intensity that she heard the distant whooshing sounds of the
cars along the highway.

“
What have you learned?” His voice was
supernaturally loud in her ear, and she jumped. She hadn’t even
realized that he was leaning forward, over her, next to
her.

“
To... to not wear clothes without
your direction,” she managed back.

“
What else?”

“
To... Ah!” He had seized her even
tighter, curling his fingers into her, making her body squirm under
him. “To make sure I know what is proper, sir! Before I do
something!”

“
Good.” He raised his body away from
hers and placed the strap on the table next to her head. Then, he
placed one firm hand at the back of her neck, while his hand
remained nestled between her legs.

“
Don’t try to bring your legs
together. Spread them wider apart. That’s it. Never try to close
yourself to me. Next time, I’ll use something you won’t like at
all. But admit it, you did like the strap.”

Oh, how did his voice go from matter-of-fact
to sultry? Or was it all in her mind, the gentle lilt that she
heard now that wasn’t there before? She did as he instructed spread
her legs wide, and whimpered slightly as he played with her.

“
Yes, sir,” she whispered, clutching
at the air. “Yes, I like it.”

“
Tell me about something you don’t
like.”

“
Paddles,” Robin answered, a little
too fast.

He chuckled. “But paddles are common
things. Every player of sex games has one hidden in the lingerie
drawer. Surely you’ve learned to endure the touch. Now, tell me
something less common. What, if given the option―and I am sure you
have been granted this―would you remove from a player’s arsenal
from fear or knowledge? What makes you squeal and cry and surrender
utterly? What frightens you?”

His hand never stopped, in fact, it
demanded more reaction from her. Gently stroking, it opened her and
retreated, circled and pressed, flicked and massaged at her, until
she really bit her lip and tasted warm salt in her mouth. Groaning,
she tried to still the jerking movements of her hips, and her
desperate efforts seemed to amuse him even more.

“
I asked you a question, girl. Answer
now.”

The hand left the back of her neck and went
toward the strap and she gasped out, “Canes! I’m afraid of
canes!”

“
Really?”

“
Yes, sir!” She moaned, and gasped,
and her breath started coming in those light rhythmic waves that
signaled an approach to ecstasy, and then his hand
stopped.

“
How interesting. What about knives?”
His hands left her all together, and she moaned again, from their
absence.

“
No,” she whispered, her voice now
more than slightly strained. “No, sir, I’ve played with knives.
They scare me, but not as much as canes. Canes are... different.”
Her entire body seemed to ache again. But the ache circled around
her clit, and spread outward. Even the burning pain of her glowing
ass cheeks couldn’t compare to the erotic agony between her
thighs.

“
Bring me more coffee. And a damp
towel, and the telephone. And then clean the table off, I think you
may have marred the polish a little.”

Feeling slightly faint, Robin managed to
push herself off the table. She had indeed marred the polish a
little, with the marks of her body, her sweat, her little pool of
tears. Her nipples were tight, compressed by her own body against
the wood, erect with the pleasure of Parker’s expert probing. Robin
fled to the kitchen with a flush covering her face, and her hands
trembled when she took a coffee cup down from a shelf. In the
reflection of the oven door, she could see the difference in color
between her legs, back, and that area between them.

Oh God
, she thought, reaching back to touch
the heat.
Oh
God, I can’t take this.

But she followed his directions, and watched
him wipe his hands with the damp towel, as dispassionately as a
terrace gardener who had pulled up a very small weed before coming
to dinner. Would she never stop blushing? Then, he tossed her the
towel to put away, and dialed a long number on the cordless phone
she brought him from the kitchen.

“
Good morning, Rachel,” she heard him
say, as she deposited the towel back in the kitchen and searched
for cleaning rags. She listened carefully. There was no real need
to eavesdrop, but her curiosity was almost as strong as her
frustration.

“
No, I’m fine. Yes, as a matter of
fact, there is. I’m going to be staying at Nancy and Lawrence’s
apartment, the West Side one. Would you please arrange to send me
some clothing, a copy of the workbook, and a collar?”

Robin shivered as she walked back into the
dining room and ran the soft cloth over the table top, wiping up
her responses and rubbing out her image. Chris ignored her; he had
a slight smile playing around his lips.

“
Well, you’re right my dear. What can
I say? I have to do something to keep busy. How are things at the
house?”

There was a long pause as he listened, and
Robin saw him nod a few times.

“
Fine, fine. Let me know if you need
any help. Oh, and Rachel? Include in that package three of my
canes, will you? There’s a good girl.” He paused again, and laughed
suddenly. “Anytime you like, my love. Take care.” He clicked the
receiver off and handed it to Robin to replace.

“
Now,” he said, when she returned,
“you’re in serious trouble.”

Robin felt the blood drain from her
face.

“
What did I do?” she asked.

“
What didn’t you do?”

She looked around. The coffee was in his
hand, the phone was put away, the table was polished clean again...
What?

“
On your knees while you think,” Chris
snapped.

She knelt immediately and, not knowing what
position to take, brought her hands behind her back. What had she
forgotten to do? She ran images backward in her mind, from the
current moment back through the beating. It was the second time she
did this that she realized what she hadn’t done.

She immediately pushed her shoulders forward
and down, lowering her face to the floor in front of Parker’s
feet.

“
I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered,
blushing to her ears again, and this time slightly shaking as well.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry. Please sir, please accept my thanks for
teaching me, for disciplining me. I’ll be better in the future,
sir.”

“
Incredibly, unforgivably sloppy. What
did you think I was waiting for when I stopped beating
you?”

Nothing
, she thought furiously, raging at
herself.
I
wasn’t thinking of any damn thing except how good it felt, and how
awful it was, and how hot I was!
But she pressed herself even lower, unable
to speak these things out loud.

“
Your punishment for this one will not
be as simple as a beating,” Chris said, nudging her shoulder. She
picked her head up, and seeing his nod, drew herself up on her
knees again. “Most of it will have to wait until later this
afternoon, however, because you have an appointment in about an
hour. But for now....”

He turned, leaving her kneeling on the
floor, and left the room. She heard the jingling of his keys for a
moment, and shivered again. How could she be so stupid? That was
one of the first things you learned; you thank someone for
disciplining you, you thank them for letting you please them, you
thank them for pleasing you, damn it, you practically thank them
for every kind of attention!

But she was so overwhelmingly distracted by
the specter of the Marketplace, the looming reality of it, taking
over her future and erasing her past. Although she tried to contain
it, tears formed in her eyes.