tagNonConsent/ReluctanceOdyssey: Finding Home 1 Ch. 09

Odyssey: Finding Home 1 Ch. 09


This is a difficult chapter, folks. It involves rape. Please don't proceed if that is going to offend or bother you.

Master Ryan's "solution" to Liz's depression at the beginning of the chapter is unusual and I'm aware it probably doesn't work in real life, but before anyone sends flaming comments about what an idiotic idea it is, please remember this is a
story ;-)

= + = + = + = + = + = + =

One day in the middle of winter, Ann spent a long afternoon talking with Master Daniel, Master Michael, and Master Ryan. She told Liz later that it had been a really honest conversation about what had led up to having her time "reset." As easy as it was to lay the blame at Thomas' feet, and there certainly was a lot of blame to lay there, she admitted freely that some of her actions had generated from rebellion against the rules and the expectations, even though she had understood what she was agreeing to before she came. They had actually asked her to tell them honestly if she felt that the reset was unfair. It took her a long time to answer that as she struggled with taking responsibility for her own actions. It was something she had been laying awake at night wrestling with.

She finally found the courage to look up at Master Daniel and admit that probably half of what had happened had been outright rebellion, and half had been reaction to Thomas's actions.

"Then we'll decrease your reset by half. Nine months instead of the full eighteen." She cried with joy; she felt like she'd been given a second chance and she was determined not to mess it up this time.

~ + + + + + ~

Liz had several more nights of entertaining guests; none as intense as her first. Most men were very nice and wanted straightforward sex, and she found herself really truly enjoying time with them. It might not have been her choice to be where she was and doing what she was, but she found "keeping them company" far from objectionable. There were a couple who wanted to do some erotic spanking, and she found herself embarrassed at how wet and aroused it left her.

Several weeks went by with no requests from any guests for her company – Daniel was not home much so there were few meetings or gatherings – and it was during that lull that Liz found herself sinking down into a dark place. She couldn't sleep, but didn't want to get out of bed either, and dark circles hung under her eyes.

That depression settled on her for quite a while; everyone saw it, but no one knew what to do. She dragged through her days with no desire to smile or take part in after-hours gatherings despite Greta's urging. She wouldn't talk to anyone about it, because truthfully she had no idea what she would say. She was just hoping it passed eventually.

The only time she felt better for those several long weeks was during another of Mr. Alexander's visits. This time he was in a quiet mood, wanting little more than companionship, spending the afternoon talking with her and later, having her lay down on the bed while he gently stroked and teased her until she was quietly begging him to finish her off, which he declined to do with a smile. It was later that day, still feeling that unquenched arousal and aching need, that she also realized she felt calm and peaceful for the first time in a long time. She had no idea what to do about that except ask Master Ryan for help.

He agreed to try, and so she laid back in her little bed, spread her legs, and endured an thirty minutes of being teased and tormented and denied. It worked like a charm. She felt achy and needy and wonderfully submissive, and cheerful.

Master Ryan didn't feel so cheerful; he rarely indulged himself with a slave because of the many difficulties it presented later, but watching her writhe and gasp and beg stirred him in a way that made him want to tear his clothes off and fuck her, hard. He held on to his self-control just long enough to bring her down gently, secure her promise that she wouldn't play with herself as soon as he was gone, and make it back to his room where he shocked himself back to reality with a cold shower. Even so, her blue eyes staring into his with raw need haunted his mind.

He was concerned about how to go forward. He had seen a couple of slaves before whose submissive natures had been uncovered during their service, and they needed that nature reinforced to be happy. The arousal they felt fed the submission and created a positive-feedback loop. For Liz, the absence of arousal made submission difficult and colored all her interactions. Perhaps in another time or place where she could seek her own choices she could have found something to substitute, but here and now arousal was the only way she was going to get through this.

He had an idea, though; a fairly radical idea. He had no idea if she would go for it or not, nor whether he should give her the option or simply expect her obedience. He brought it to Michael, because he could trust Michael to tell him he was full of shit if needed. Surprisingly, Michael agreed it was worth trying, but it should be Liz's choice. Crossing his fingers, Ryan picked up the phone and made a call.

The next day Liz was surprised to be summoned to Master Ryan's office. She had never been there before and was apprehensive. The teasing had worked, for a day or so, and then she was back where she started. She resigned herself to just try harder, which meant pretend harder, as long as she could. She knelt and waited while her stomach churned with anxiety.

He explained to her what he knew about submission and arousal and how he thought it all affected her depression. This wasn't news to her. What was a surprise was what he proposed.

"A ring in my clit? Like Ms. Adams was talking about before?" she asked in disbelief.

"She promised she has seen this work for some women."

"Are you out of your mind?" She was beyond caring about her words right then.

"Liz," he said not unkindly, "I think this may be the answer for you. I want you to give it a try. The key to keeping you happy seems to be finding a way to keep you aroused. If it doesn't work, we'll remove it and figure something else out."

She looked at him and defiantly stated, "The key to keeping me happy would be to free me and let me go home."

He sat down in front of her and took her chin gently in his hand and smiled. "I'm glad to see your spirit; I was afraid it had disappeared these last couple of weeks. But you know that isn't going to happen. Should we find a way to make your time here more pleasing?"

There was a long pause while they stared at each other.

"You promise if it doesn't work you'll take it out?"

"I promise."

Eventually she pulled away and wiped the tears from her face. She took a breath. "Master, did you say that Ms. Adams is the one who will be doing it?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Something Greta said after she was here the first time and we let you down. What do I do and where do I go now?"

He escorted her down the hall to where Brett was set up. As she entered the room, she sank to her knees. "Ma'am, I thank you for taking the time to come here and do this."

"Well, girl, I am surprised to be here, considering the reaction you had the last time I mentioned this."

"I spoke out of turn, ma'am. My Master has the best intentions for me and I trust him to know what I need." Her words sounded so much more sure than her roiling stomach suggested.

"Ryan, my boy, she's nice. Very nice. Good job! Now hop on up here and let's get it done."

It wasn't as bad as she had feared. Master Ryan stood behind the narrow, portable, reclining chair and placed his arms around her torso, holding her hands and hips down in a giant hug to help keep her still. She was very aware of the muscles on his arms and the golden-brown hairs climbing up to his shoulders and his breath on her shoulders as he held her tight. There was a tug of the forceps – intense but not painful, a really bad pinch that made her whimper, then just lingering soreness that was bearable. After a moment he let her go and helped her stand up. The whole thing took less than five minutes.

But what a difference. She took a tentative step and felt the weight of the ring tug down ever so slightly at the same time her clit was now pushed out just a bit more and exposed to the air, her labia, whatever.... A wave of arousal went over her and she groaned. Brett was giving instructions to Master Ryan on how to take care of it but she was oblivious to the whole thing.

At some point she was aware that Brett was talking to her and she made herself tune in. "I'm sorry, ma'am, could you repeat that?"

"I said, the feelings are always intense at first and then decrease a bit. If you are overwhelmed be patient and see if it doesn't get easier to handle with time."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." And Master Ryan led her away in a daze.

~ + + + + + ~

It worked. She found herself in a mildly aroused state every minute of the day, though it was exhausting at first. Her submissiveness deepened and she found a contentment she had longed for. At the same time, a part of her resented that her body was being manipulated into feeling like this, that she was not being allowed to choose. Her mind flashed back to the conversation about spinach. She sighed and decided not to examine it too much right now – she could examine later whether she actually liked spinach or not.


"So, she's been there almost six months now, right? Should be long enough to have gotten some freedom to move around. I think it's time to approach her with an offer she can't refuse."

"What if she knows....?"

"She doesn't. I know Weiss; he's too soft-hearted to keep her if he knew the truth." He said the words with contempt.

"And if she refuses?"

"We make sure she understands how serious we are about keeping our 'promises'."

"I'll have our ...agent...approach her as soon as he can without arousing suspicion. It might be a bit before she can find out anything useful, you know. Slaves have limited access to anything even once their training is done."

"We're not in any hurry at all...."


Liz paused at the door of the small conservatory. She loved to sneak in there when it was empty and she had a moment – it was the closest thing to the outdoors she could be while spring took its sweet time arriving.

She didn't see anyone so she entered and stopped when the sun fell on her face. Its warmth and brightness never failed to lighten her spirits. She had made peace, mostly, with where she was and what she was doing; she had learned to live with constant arousal and was able to channel it into doing her "job". It was mid-April, and her six month "training" period was done. Surprisingly, she didn't feel any different than before.

Things had changed for others, though. Chris had completed her service and gone home. Liz was happy for her and understandably jealous at the same time. She promised to keep in touch, though Greta later cautioned the rest of the girls not to count on that as she would want to put this time in her life behind her and move on.

There was a new woman down in the slave training house, named Faith, and Master Ryan had asked Ann to mentor her as well, so impressed was he with her help with Liz. She was glad for Ann, but missed her terribly. Ann had saved Liz many times early on from giving up.

Ann.... Liz hoped that this new assignment was helping her through a rough spot. About a month ago Liz had woken to find Ann sobbing into her pillow. Even knowing that her reset time had been shortened, it still hit her hard when she had realized it was the day she would have been released if she hadn't been reset. Liz crawled into bed with her and held her for the rest of the night, thinking of her own release day so far in the future.

The smell of moist earth brought back another memory, that of the vegetable garden at the militia base so many months ago. She smiled. Master Daniel had been so pleased with Ann's behavior that he approved the idea of a garden, and they were going to break ground later this week. To be outside working in the fresh air.....

A noise behind her brought her up short. Someone else had come in . Crap. She turned to sneak out but a figure stepped up and blocked her way. He looked like one of the workers who were re-shingling the roof.

"Sir, I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to bother you...." she began.

"Chancellor Palm sends his regards and hopes your time here is passing pleasantly."

Her head snapped up. "What?!" Fear engulfed her as she stumbled backwards into a tree.

"Relax, pretty lady. I'm not here to hurt you."

"Who the hell are you and what the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.

"You can call me Mr. Black. As for why I am here....well, the Chancellor has a...favor...to ask of you."

She stared at him, open mouthed. "You can tell that rat bastard to go to hell. There is no favor on this planet I would ever do for him."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I think you will find the terms of this ....request.... quite irresistible."

She said nothing, fear beginning to gnaw at her.

"Your parents are doing fine."

She caught her breath. She suddenly knew what he was going to say next and she wanted to vomit.

"Of course, their continued good health depends a whole lot on you."

She tried to calm the rising panic. "You son-of-a-bitch. If you dare hurt them...."

"You'll do what, exactly? You are stuck here for another, oh, 1 year, 5 months, and approximately 14 days, at least. Even if you went running to Weiss right now, a simple phone call by me would mean they would be dead before the hour was up. The Chancellor has watchers near your parents at all times with orders to kill them if it looks like anyone is trying to get near them. No, you'll do this favor, if you ever want to see them alive again."

She felt the air go out of her. "What does he want?" she asked coldly.

"Nothing much. Information. Just information."

She looked at him in confusion. "I'm a slave. They don't tell me anything."

"Oh, I have no doubts you are privy to a lot more than you think. How many meetings have you been to, kneeling silently next to one of them, while they talk about all manner of business, oh so confident that you are the perfect little slave who hears nothing?"

It was true. Though she didn't always follow the conversation completely, she knew she had listened in on some pretty detailed conversations about the running of the estate. She usually tuned them out and concentrated on not falling asleep, or on coping with cramped muscles.

"How do you know I would recognize that I am hearing something that asshole wants to know?"

"Whoa, I would be careful which words you choose to describe our glorious leader. I understand disrespect and bad language are punishable offenses around here. Chairman Weiss is very strict about that. Anyhow, it doesn't matter. You will just remember whatever you can and pass it on. And lest you decide you have trouble remembering what you hear, let me assure you that the more information we get, the safer your parents. The less information, the less safe. Understand?"

She wasn't going to give him the pleasure of agreeing with him.

"Now, I'll be around here and there doing various work for a while. You will stop by here whenever you have anything to tell me. You will do nothing to give them any idea that anything is wrong. Do I make myself clear?"

She didn't know what else to do but nod.

"No, I want to hear it."

"Yes," she said in a small voice.

" 'Yes'?" he repeated. "I know you've been taught better."

"Yes, Sir," she said sarcastically, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Careful, girlie, you need my good reports to get back to the Chancellor."

She quickly looked down to the floor, her momentary courage abandoning her.

"Now, we can move on to much more fun things." He pulled out his cock and began stroking it. Apparently blackmail was arousing.

She stared at him disbelievingly. "Oh, no, no, please..."

"You'd better believe it. I've been looking forward to this all day. Open up."

He moved towards her, cornering her at the tree, and as she tried to bolt past him he grabbed her hair and yanked backwards, spilling her to the ground. He kept his hand twisted in her hair as he pulled her around on her knees to face him. The jolt caused her mouth to open in surprise and before she could recover he had thrust himself deep inside. She gagged and fought him but even with her hands free he was too strong and she couldn't pull back.

"I will let you breathe as soon as you stop fighting me," he instructed. Though her body instinctively wanted to fight, she willed her arms to drop to her side, and he pulled out enough to let her frantically pull air through her nose. She held still, heaving, her hands in fists at her side, tears streaming down her face, her eyes closed as though she could pretend he didn't exist if she didn't have to see him.

"And just to make sure we understand each other – you will NOT bite me because I assure you there are ways to let your parents keep living while suffering at the same time. Your behavior determines everything that happens to them. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her mouth still full of cock, realizing she had to get her crying under control if she wanted to breathe through her nose.

He began pulling out and thrusting in, hitting the back of her throat every time and triggering her gag reflex. She coughed and sputtered and pounded her fists futilely against his legs.

"Oh, now, that's nice," he said, "I like a little gagging....it just reinforces how helpless you are.... Mmm...that's right," as he thrust harder than before. She felt the vomit rise and struggled to keep it down just a bit longer...then suddenly he thrust and held her tight as her air cut off and her hands frantically grabbed his and he groaned and shot his cum into her throat to mix with the vomit she could no longer hold back.

Her retching caused him to pull away sooner than he would have in disgust. He shoved her over to the floor and she lay coughing and heaving, her face covered in cum and vomit.

"Untrained bitch. I had hoped for better but I see that the quality of slaves here has deteriorated."

When she managed to stop coughing she sat up to find him still staring down at her. She desperately hoped he would just leave now, but instead he walked to the door and spoke quietly to someone passing by. Then he came back.

"You remember our deal – you give me information, your parents are safe. I will be around and you'd better pretend to be happy to see me, understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said softly, wanting to sink down into despair.

A moment later, Greta stood in the door and Liz was never so glad to see anyone in her life.

"Oh, ma'am I'm glad you're here - she was throwing up and I didn't know what to do so I got someone to call you..."

"Of course, Sir. Thank you. Oh, my dear," and she bustled over to Liz and helped ease her up into a chair. Liz didn't have to act sick at all – she was suddenly feeling like she was going to vomit all over again. Greta eased her head between her knees and after a few minutes someone handed her a cool washrag which Liz accepted gratefully. At some point the man disappeared.

As soon as he was gone Liz was sick again. Greta found a trash can just in time as horrible retching consumed her body once more.

She didn't really remember the rest of the day, though when she woke up later in her small bed she knew someone must have carried her from the greenhouse.

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