18 Master Ch. 17: Regrets

Master Josh tried to have me sit in the front seat of his car, but my ass was still bleeding so he ended up putting me in the trunk of a dealer car and driving us home, me still naked but on a tarp so I wouldn't mess up the car. He ordered me to get out of the trunk, but I couldn't make my body move. He eventually just hauled me over his shoulder and did a fireman carry up the elevator. I don't think anyone else got on. I didn't care if they did.

No one else was home when we got upstairs. Master Josh put me on the rug in the bathroom and told me to clean myself up, but I still couldn't make my body move so I just stayed on the rug. I don't know if he was pissed or not; I didn't care. I think I fell asleep there, but I woke up in my bed, having a flashback to the picnic table. I started crying and couldn't stop, just sobbing. Eventually I fell back asleep.

Master Josh came to wake me up at the usual time so I could get to work the next morning. I think I could have moved if I had to, like if the apartment was on fire, but all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. He started shaking me and yelling at me. I just closed my eyes and let my mind float away. When I woke up later there were voices outside my door. Arguing voices. Master Donald, Master Larry, Master Josh, Master Chris. There was a glass of water by the bed. I was thinking about trying to sit up enough to drink some when the door opened.

"Sit up. Drink."

I still couldn't move.

Master Chris grabbed my hair and forced me up.

"Drink!"

I took the cup and swallowed.

"All of it."

I kept swallowing, thinking about that last cock down my throat.

He took the cup and put a tissue in my hand.

"Blow your nose."

I realized my face was wet with tears and my nose was running. I blew my nose and wiped my eyes.

Master Chris didn't say another word. He pulled the blanket around me and cradled me in his arms. He hoisted me up and carried me out of the room.

"Don't you want me to take a look at her?

I think that was Master Larry. I didn't look. Master Chris didn't reply. He took me down to the garage and bundled me into the back seat. I guess he didn't want to look at me in my condition. I didn't care.

He drove. We parked. I didn't watch where we were going. I just kept "seeing" the picnic table, even though I'd been blindfolded. I heard the car door, another door, and then Master Chris was carrying me inside. When he found me huddled in my bed in my dungeon, he forced me to drink a full glass of water. I choked it all down, choked down the thoughts about that last cock down my throat. He carried me out, naked, wrapped in a blanket from my bed. He didn't stop for Master Doctor Larry to check me out. I'd heard him arguing earlier with Master Josh and Master Donald, but he didn't say anything to them or answer any of their questions after he hauled me out of my room.

I could tell right away we were in his house, even though I hadn't been there often. I thought back to the first time I'd been here, when we had a gang bang with the whole gang, before they had truly become my Masters, my owners. It was the first time I'd been fucked in all three holes at the same time. I remembered how I'd smelled on the way home, still covered in man scent and cum. Master Chris had pushed me out the door naked, with his cum still fresh on my face. He'd ordered me to drive home like that, and not wash until morning. I wore out my vibrator battery that night, I'd been so turned on by the memory and the feel of all that cum.

The few other times I'd been there had been for small parties. The first was a dinner party where I was acting like his girlfriend for a vanilla event. He'd put me in a tasteful dress, and I made polite conversation. It was still pretty early on as their owned slave. I felt awkward because I wasn't used to doing social events like that. I was worried about making him look bad, so I was very nervous. After the dinner, after he'd dismissed the caterers, he'd tied my hands and blindfolded me. He cut me out of the dress and flogged me for what felt like forever. That time he couldn't just send me home alone and naked like the first time, but he'd cum in my face again and then drove me home naked to my new dungeon with his cum still all over me.

The few other times I'd been at his house were for poker parties where he'd put me in a Playboy bunny outfit to serve five of his friends. They groped me and made comments all night about what they'd like to do to me, but it wasn't until the game was over that he let them strip me and spit roast me. He always played really hard after the guests left. He whipped me until I screamed. He tortured me with nipple clamps or electricity or wax until I was a sobbing mess. He usually edged me for hours until he finally let me cum in a quivering heap. I loved poker nights!

I wanted to go back to those times, when it seemed easier.

He carried me up the stairs. He hesitated at the top, then turned left down a hallway. I could tell the room he put me in was a guest room. It was lovely, but it had no personalization. The bed was a four-poster made of a dark wood with elaborate carving. The spread was rich burgundy and gold colors, thick and heavy. He set me on my feet for a minute while he pulled back the covers, then boosted me up on the bed. The sheets were white and soft. I stared at the sheets. I was afraid I'd bleed on them and ruin them.

He tugged my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes.

I looked down, tried to turn my face away, but he gripped my hair tightly.

"Are you happy?"

That was not the question I was expecting. I don't know what I was expecting, but not that. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what he wanted to hear.

"Are. You. HAPPY?"

"Does it matter?"

I was ashamed that I had answered that way, ashamed of my tone. I sounded like a whiny teenager. I tried to look away. He yanked my hair back again.

"Yes. It matters. To me. Answer me!"

I burst out crying.

"I don't know anymore. I was. I'm not now. I'm sorry. I'll do better."

He looked at me a long time. I was still a snotty mess, sniffing tears running down my cheek. He got up to grab some tissues and brought them back to me on the bed.

I felt like he was unhappy, too, and unhappy because of me, but of course I couldn't ask him. I flashed back to the night at The Castle, when he forced me to the floor of his room and claimed me with his cock, shouting MINE MINE MINE. I had been so angry with him just moments before, and then he took my breath away.

When we first got back from The Castle, I felt like Master Chris was spending more time with me; he would come by work a few times each week, and I think he traded some nights so it seemed like he was staying over more. It's hard to tell - time gets a bit blurry when you're getting your brains fucked out every day. When you have Masters to tell you what to do, and when to do it, there's no need to track time.

I know for sure that after the event with Master Donald, Master Chris stopped staying over. Maybe the nights he had traded caught up, so he just wasn't scheduled. That's what I told myself. But he also stopped coming by my work as much. And the few times he used me, he just jacked off in my face, not my ass or cunt and left really quickly.

He looked at me intently.

"If you could do anything, what would you want to do?"

Again I didn't know how to answer. I was a slave, his slave, and their slave - what I wanted didn't matter. But I sensed he would get angry if I said that. So I said nothing.

He grabbed my naked shoulders, fingers digging into me.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"I want to go back to The Castle!"

I blurted out the first thing I thought of. But as soon as I said it, it made sense. I wanted to go back to his room, to the feeling of being totally ravaged and humiliated, but then reclaimed by him, marked by him. I wanted to sleep with him all night, spooned in his arms. And then I wanted to go back and repeat that entire day, all the humiliation, all of the abuse, and all of the connection after. I wanted him to tell me I was glorious, that I was a good slave, that I was HIS.

He turned away. When he spoke, his voice was flat.

"I thought you might. Someday. Not this soon, but I guess once you got a taste of that...I'll get in touch with them right away. It's really the best thing, after all."

He seemed so angry. I was confused.

"Master -"

I started to speak but he cut me off.

"You're still my slave. I mean, you're Our slave. I won't stand for any disobedience. In fact, it would be good for you to get used to not speaking, it will be easier for you when you get there. Lie back on the bed, knees up."

I lay back immediately, still confused. Still knowing he was confused, but unable to say anything when he bound me with silence. I felt his fingers spread my labia, inspecting me. I tried not to flinch when he probed my cunt, but I still felt sore and raw. He moved on to my ass, spreading my cheeks and gently touching my puckered hole. Then I definitely flinched. He sighed.

"Stay there."

He left the room and came back with plastic box with some bottles and cloths. He put on latex gloves and lubed his index finger before easing it inside of me. My ass was accustomed to violation, so his finger slid inside easily, especially with the lube, but I moaned from the pain, and the intrusion. He felt around and examined his finger after he pulled it out.

"No fresh blood. I don't think there's any lasting damage. We'll leave your ass alone for a few days until it's less tender. And we'll have you checked before...before you go. Go shower while I make some calls."

He left me there, my knees still spread, my ass glistening with lube, my eyes wet with tears.

I showered as ordered, using the en suite bathroom. It was as nicely appointed as the bedroom, with thick burgundy towels and gold fixtures. It had one of those big rain showerheads and hotel-sized bottles of gel and shampoo. There was some blood still on my ass cheeks. Some of the knife strokes had left small cuts that I didn't notice until the water stung them.

It felt very strange - I had to think hard to remember the last time I showered in privacy. It was on my way to the lawyer's office, when I had signed my contract. I had cleaned myself very carefully, inside and out, wanting to be fresh for the fuckfest that followed. After that, after they took me away to my dungeon, I always showered with a Master watching me. At first they were glued to the sight, like I was living porn. Which I suppose I was, so I made sure to lather and rub myself a lot. After I was clean, they would towel me dry, making sure my cunt was especially dry. Master Terry would usually force me back in the shower and pee on me, making me start the whole cycle over again. I always wondered why he couldn't just pee on me first and then let me wash, but I guess that was his kink. Later, like everything else, the novelty seemed to fade and they would check their phones while I showered, and toss me the towel to dry myself off.

I remembered the shower at The Castle, being brutally scrubbed and casually raped by the guards. I wondered if Master Chris would have me stay in the dungeon there, or let me sleep in his room this time. I got wet thinking about him offering me to the staff again, but then reclaiming me. I thought about the videos of it, and how all my Masters loved watching those recordings.

When I came out of the bathroom there was a protein bar and a glass of water, with a note that said "All of it." I assumed that meant the provisions, so I ate and drank it all and then just waited. I wasn't sure if I should sleep in the bed or not. There weren't any chains, though I realized that the frame had some cleverly-hidden hooks and latches where chains could be added. I wondered if he played here with other women. I wondered if he played here with anyone while I was home in my dungeon. I wondered if that's why he stopped sleeping with me. I looked through the room. The drawers were empty, not even a speck of dust. The closet was a large walk-in space with several metal racks. I looked at them carefully, and even pulled on them, realizing this would make a great mini dungeon, or cell. The racks seemed especially sturdy. I also noticed more bolts and latches in the corners, and one very large bolt in the ceiling that looked like it might be a hard point. I looked in the main room again and realized that there was a light fixture in the center that could be raised or lowered by a knob on the wall. When I lowered it, I could see that the bulb could come off, leaving a hook on a cable that was way heavier than it needed to be for just a bulb.

Master Chris came in while I was examining the light and hook.

"Found that, did you?"

He sounded amused but also a bit angry.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

He wheeled on me, definitely angry.

"You didn't remember that you're supposed to be keeping your mouth shut. Kneel! Wait there."

I immediately dropped and knelt in the soft green carpet. He left and it felt like forever before he came back, though it was probably just about 5 minutes. He ordered me to hold out my hands and he tugged some leather cuffs with big D-rings over my hands, securing them at the wrists with buckles and then locking the buckles with tiny padlocks. He looped the D-rings over the hook, now exposed in the light fixture. He walked to the wall and flicked the knob to draw me up, hands way over my head, until my toes were just barely holding my weight on the soft carpet.

He came beside me, thrusting his left arm over my chest. I heard the whistle of a cane before it cracked down hard on my ass. I screamed with pain. Usually in a scene he would warm me up before hitting me hard, then give me time to recover, time to process, but two more hard strokes followed, right after the first, until I thought I would black out with the pain. I couldn't even scream again, I had no air left in me.

"Do you need more to remind you again?"

He brandished the cane in front of me, my eyes swimming with tears. I clamped my lips together and shook my head vigorously.

"You'd better get used to it. They said they would be thrilled to welcome you back, to be part of their collection. But first you'll have to go through a long training period, several months, and I gather it's pretty brutal. What you saw there as a guest was just the beginning."

I didn't understand him. The waves of pain were making my brain fuzzy. I could feel the heat, feel the welts rising from my bruised buttocks. I could feel his anger, but I couldn't understand it.

"In fact..."

He let that thought dangle as he grabbed me again. I was still so stunned I didn't even hear the cane this time. I don't know how many times he caned my ass. I lost count after three. Nothing seemed real. I was hurting and angry and dizzy. When he was done, he hit the knob on the wall and the hook lowered me to the floor. I collapsed in a heap. He tossed a box of tissues at me and left the room.

I cried for a long time. I screamed. I threw the pillows around. But I didn't form words, I had learned that lesson in black and blue. I couldn't sit or lie on my back. Master Chris came back a few hours later with another bar and glass of water. I was curled up on my side on the floor with the bloodied blanket from my bed back at the dungeon apartment. His lip curled with disgust when he saw it.

"Use a clean one. This is getting thrown out."

He put the bar and water down, then pulled the blanket away from me. It felt like he was stripping another layer of me away.

"Eat. Drink. They want to interview you on Skype in an hour. Be ready."

But of course I couldn't ask who "they" were and why "they" would want to interview me. So I just ate and washed my face and blew my nose. The hour passed quickly I think; time still seemed out of kilter.

Master Chris didn't say a word as he grabbed me by the arm and towed me out of the room and down the hall. He pulled me into a large study with a solid desk in dark wood in a room full of books. He positioned me in front of a camera that was on a tripod, connected to a laptop on the desk.

"Present yourself, slave."

I immediately stood straight with my hands behind my head, legs apart, back arched to display my tits, my eyes on the ceiling.

"Thank you, Mr. Matthews."

I recognized the voice. It was the man with the diamond earring from The Castle. The one who I blew in the receiving room. The one who fucked me after the serving lesson. The one who called me a "clumsy cunt" and offered the choice of my punishment to the men at the dinner banquet.

"Slave, you are permitted, and required, to speak during this interview. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

I kept my eyes up and my body presented for his inspection.

"Slave, you are also permitted, and required, to look at me when I speak to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

I don't know why I thanked him, but he seemed to like that.

"Show me your asshole."

I turned and bent at the waist, using my hands to spread my butt cheeks.

"Yes, Mr. Matthews, I see what you mean, but I don't think it will be a problem. It will take a few days before we make the final arrangements. I think everything will be fine by then. Slave, at ease."

I turned around and put my hands back behind my back, wrists at my hips.

"Your Master told you that we offered you a place in The Castle. You should be very honored."

"I am honored, Sir."

"We are happy to complete the arrangement. I will send someone to collect you. At that time we'll give you the legal paperwork to sign, but I will go over it now to be sure there are no misunderstandings. The term of the contract will be two years. The first six months and a day will be the consideration period. During that time, either of us can break off the agreement at any time for no stated cause. If that happens, you will be paid our standard daily rate for every day of training you have completed to that point."

He named a number that seemed impossibly large.

"Do you understand?"

"No, Sir?"

I was still confused, but I was starting to think it through. Collect me? Sign paperwork? I realized there was definitely a misunderstanding. When I told Master Chris that I wanted to go back to The Castle, I meant go back for another trip with him, but he thought I wanted to take the contract. This was totally fucked. But I didn't dare interrupt Diamond Earring.

"That's the daily rate, Slave. And we will make you earn every penny of it. If you complete the six months - to my demanding standards - you will be auctioned off to one of our members to complete your initiation. You won't be servicing any patrons during your consideration period, just the training staff, but the patrons will watch every minute on video. They will place bets on you, how many lashes before you cry, how many cocks you can suck in a row, how quickly you can make a guard cum, even how long it takes to empty your bladder on a given morning. They will lust after you. By the time the auction comes, they will bid huge amounts of money to win the first use of you. We take half for your training, and we invest the other half for you for the end of your contract.

"Your final trial, your initiation, will last 24 hours. The highest bidder will torment you in every way imaginable, trying to get you to break. We have never had a slave tap out during initiation; you will not be the first. If I have any doubt, I will dismiss you prior. By the time we auction you, we will know every quirk and kink, we will map out every flaw and make you strong enough to take anything anyone can give you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."