Association

"Yes, please," I replied as humbly as I could, so relieved to escape the whip that I would have kissed his shoes if he had asked.

No further incidents happened during dinner. I ate every single forkful he fed me, and drank enough wine to feel more than a little dizzy. Once he had cleared the table, he untied my ankles and led me to the living room. There, he unlocked the mittens and pointed at the wooden coffee table between the couch and the TV set.

"Lie on the table, face up."

While I was trying to keep my thoughts clear, and not succeeding very well, he produced various coils of white rope and wrapped my arms and legs to the four legs of the table. He used more rope around my hips, under and above my breasts, and I soon became one with the table.

I cringed a little when he tightened the three clamps, but no sound escaped my mouth, surprisingly free of any gag so far. Finally, he inserted a small vibrator in my vagina and turned it on to a low setting. He left the butt plug safely where it was.

"Now, listen to me well. I want to spend a quiet evening watching a movie on TV. I don't want to hear a single sound from you. Or else."

I didn't think he expected me to reply, but I almost wished he had gagged me. If he meant he'd punish me for a single moan, I'd be in trouble very quickly.

He pulled the cord on a small lamp in a corner, pulled down the shades, and inserted a tape in the VCR. He pushed the remote and I turned my head to see the credits hit the screen. I recognized the purported "classic" immediately, and remembered it as tedious to a fault, not to mention three hours long. He didn't expect me to keep quiet until the end, did he?

With the help of the wine, I abandoned myself to the vibrations gently buzzing inside me. I no longer felt the burning welts nor the discomfort of the ropes around my limbs and body. I was rocking on a sea of pleasure and the waves were increasingly higher. Not high enough, though. When the need for relief became more pressing, I turned my head toward Geoffrey, desire painted on my face like a rutting animal. But he kept his eyes on the screen.

I stifled a plaintive moan and looked to the screen at the actors pretending to swoon over each other. Like I needed more stimulation. I bit my lips and wiggle pointlessly on the table.

When the sex scene ended, he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. I couldn't hold myself back any longer and let out a loud, lustful sigh. He returned a little too quickly, snacks in hand, and stopped by the other side of the table, his eyes obviously surveying my degree of arousal. I tensed, waiting for his reaction and hoping it would be the right one.

--GEOFFREY--

"Sabrina, Sabrina, Sabrina," I said with mock exasperation. "When will you ever learn?"

Actually, I was pleased she had given me an opportunity to gag her again, as I was almost ready to make my speech, and I wanted my audience to be captive in every possible way.

It didn't take her long to deduce the nature and function of the bladder once I waved its dull black rubber in front of her face. But a pinch of her nose convinced her that opening her mouth was inevitable, just like everything else within my walls. I buckled it tight behind her neck, and began squeezing the pump until the only sound coming out of her head was ragged breathing through her nose.

"Much better," I said as I twisted the air valve shut. "Some day, you'll learn that obedience is rarely a matter of conscious choice. Until then, I'm happy to remind you as often as necessary."

It hadn't taken long to concoct a convincing fake identity; the Internet is nothing if not hospitable to persons opening new accounts with seven-digit deposits. Once I established myself on Iwata's private server as a man of considerable wealth and discrete taste, it took only a moment to place my first bid for Sabrina. If I won, I would simply pay myself. If I lost, I'd be amply reimbursed for my troubles. Either way, I didn't have to go through the hassle of canceling Sabrina's auction so I could keep her for myself.

Most of my candles were the elegant tapered kind used for illumination at dinner parties. But I remembered that someone had given me a thick one with a sunken wick surrounded by translucent wax walls--the light was supposed to glow from within or some such blather--and I finally dug it out from the back of a cabinet by the stereo.

The match flared like fireworks in the semi-darkness of the room. Once lit, I set the glowing tube down between her legs, then pulled out the vibrator from her pussy and tossed it onto the couch.

The ice cubes in my drink rattled like metal as I stretched a leg over the coffee table to straddle it.

"Dominance and submission, pleasure and pain," I began, staring directly into her ever-widening eyes. "Funny how they complement each other so nicely."

I fished an ice cube out of my drink and held it close to her stomach until a single drop splashed against her flesh.

"Under normal circumstances, that would feel cold. But tonight, for some reason, it burns like fire."

I moved my hand up her body so the second drop fell just to the left of one of her nipples, rolling down the side of her breast like an errant rock down a hillside.

"Cold becomes heat. Pain becomes pleasure. Opposites attract. And the truth is a lie. For example, one might think that it would be a relief for you to have this clamp removed."

I slipped down the ring holding the tweezer grips and pulled the metal away from one of her nipples.

"Not quite, eh? But if I do this..."

I bent over and placed my mouth around the tip of her pinkish bud, then sucked it hard between my teeth.

"That somehow makes it feel better. Crazy old world, huh?"

I waited a few moments for her breathing to return to a pace that somewhat resembled normal.

"That's the way I feel about you, Sabrina. At first, I figured you for nothing more than another bimbo who fancied herself as a 'professional' woman on her way up the corporate ladder. Oh, don't look so surprised. I've seen your type before. You're no better than the silly models who are so desperate for a shot at fame, they'll let photographers do anything they like as long as the shutter keeps clicking. Only instead of pornography, you call it public relations."

I picked up the chain connecting the two remaining clamps on her nipple and clit, and began twisting its links around my fingers.

"Every day, another girl runs away to the big city, and no one hears from her again. That's why it's so easy to sell them. No messy investigations and all that bother."

I watched with wry amusement as she began thrashing against her bonds, the table legs practically bouncing off the floor as she desperately tried to wrest herself free.

"Not a chance, Sabrina. Your fate is literally in my hands. Watch."

I took a step back and lay the end of the chain across the top of the burning candle.

"See? I could walk away, and there's nothing short of a hurricane that would stop the inevitable. Of course, I could always prolong the process..."

I placed an ice cube between the moist folds of her pussy beneath the arms of the clamp.

"Fire and ice. Such a helpful combination in these circumstances."

The links closest to the flame began to blacken with soot as she calmed down somewhat.

"That's better. And yes, you heard right. When I'm done with you,

you'll be carted off into the back of an unmarked package van en route to your new owner, who will have paid me a handsome sum for his new prize. Maybe you'll go to the Middle East, where western girls rank somewhere below sheep. Or maybe some crazed web site that needs new blood to keep the monthly fees rolling in. In fact, I should run and check the bidding now, maybe add a few new pictures to sweeten the process. Auction sites are so convenient for managing these affairs online."

I watched the chain glow faintly in the darkness.

"But you're different, Sabrina. I noticed right away that you weren't like the typical girls who are either desperate to please me in any way possible, or absolutely horrified to the point of tears with my requests. You stood up to me, even fought back, but you still did as I asked. That's a very rare quality in this business. Rare enough to make me do something I've never bothered to do before."

A slight depression formed in the ice cube where it was beginning to melt.

"I gave up long ago on finding a partner with whom to share my passions. Most women I meet are nothing but pain sluts, or stupid little fucktoys who end up whining the instant they don't get two cherries on their chocolate sundae. So I do what I do, and feed my monster without remorse or second thoughts. But you have potential, Sabrina. Potential that's worth exploring."

The chain began to sink into the sides of the candle, bringing it even closer to the flame.

"It certainly doesn't hurt that under all that bluster, you seem to be smart. And let's not overlook your considerable physical charms. But that's never enough."

Wisps of steam began rising from between her legs.

"So here's my proposition. You'll be with me for another five days, long enough to find out if opposites really do attract. Play by my rules, and I'll set you free with no questions asked, no tricks and no conditions. Completely up to you. I'm willing to gamble that you'll want to stay here longer, if not forever. But if you resist me, or try to escape again, I'll simply keep you locked up in the cage, then bundle you off to the highest bidder at the end of the week."

I stared intently into her terror-stricken eyes as I unzipped and slipped down my pants.

"Not much of a choice, I'll agree. But there's no turning back now. The council knows everything. In fact, it was their idea."

Veins appeared on Sabrina's forehead from the force of her outrage.

"Say yes, and I can promise one thing..."

I lowered myself to poise my engorged cock in front of her sex, then reached down, pulled off the clamp and pushed away the chain, the ice cube and the candle with one quick motion before plunging my full length inside her.

"Fuck" was the only thing I could grunt before the convulsions obliterated both of our souls like a tidal wave crashing down on a sand castle.

--SABRINA--

When Geoffrey withdrew and the orgasmic shock was fully absorbed, I felt soft, warm tears gather up in my eyes and start a slow descent down my temples and onto the table. I let them flow freely while he cleaned up the mess left by the candle and ice cube. Perhaps he thought I needed a moment to myself before I could answer his amazing offer.

I was certainly grateful for the reprieve. He had taken me on a monster of a roller coaster ride: first scaring the hell out of me, both with the candle and the prospect of selling me to the "highest bidder," and then his surprising alternatives.

Five days. If I behaved, if I obeyed him, I could flee this evil place in five days. This is what prisoners on death row must feel when they give up all hope, and the phone rings just before they enter the chamber.

Strangely, I refused to consider his proposition. The words had certainly hit home, but their implications--stay with him, forever?-- were too much to absorb. I dismissed them as illusions created by my tormented mind, and focused on the only prospect that mattered; in five days, I'd be free. Or sold.

It all made sense. There was no "Economy of Movement," no other "model," no photo shoot to supervise for the council's annual report. I realized I'd been sent by the board of directors to be "disappeared," as the bad Mafia movies put it. The association would corroborate Geoffrey's explanations. Nobody else knew I was ever here, except maybe the woman I had heard in the basement yesterday.

I shuddered at the horrible visions that clogged my consciousness. White slavery was a myth, a brown-paper fantasy dreamed up by horny losers with no chance of ever winning a woman the normal way. He was simply trying to scare me. And doing one hell of a job.

But what if Geoffrey was telling the truth? Or worse, what if he really meant to kill me? I wouldn't put murder past that bastard director's nephew.

But that was then. Now means surviving the next five days in a state where I have a fighting chance for a shot at salvation.

Geoffrey returned just as my eyes dried up. I was more relaxed than I had been in days. No matter what "play by my rules" meant, I resolved to get with his program, since the alternative was surrounded by steel bars from which the likelihood of freedom would be dicey at best.

He opened the valve of the gag, letting the air out, and removed the jaw-breaking instrument.

"So. Do you accept my proposition?" he asked.

A moment of silence.

Was I selling my soul? But it's not like I had a choice anyway. It was this, or a brothel in Hong Kong. Theoretically. Best not to find out for real.

"Yes, please."

"Good. Then I expect your total obedience and submission for the next five days. Starting now."

"Yes, please," I repeated, feeling a knot of anguish already twist my stomach. He had such a way of unnerving me even in the quietest moments.

He bent down to cut the ropes loose and helped me to my feet. Then he reunited the mittens behind my back and urged me toward the hall and up the stairs.

After a quick shower, Geoffrey found new ornaments for me to wear. Simple cuffs replaced the mittens. He buckled up leather bands of various widths around my chest, waist, thighs and ankles. When he was finished, I expected him to take me back to the studio, but he led me to my bedroom instead.

"I suppose you could use a good night of sleep," he said as he lifted the cover from the bed. "But don't think you'll be able to toss around in your dreams. Here, lie down. Spread your arms and legs."

When my wrists and ankles were tied to the bed posts, stretching my four limbs to their limits, he picked up chains hanging down from each side of the bed and locked them to the thigh, waist and chest belts. Next, he pulled a hood over my head, complete with a blindfold and the inevitable gag. Filling my mouth was not enough, so he filled my two nether orifices, too. A strap locked to the waist belt held the dildos firmly in place.

"No teasing tonight," he said while he worked on my bondage. "I want you to be fully operational tomorrow, so..."

He pulled the cover over my body, up to my chin.

"Sleep well."

And he left.

Despite the bondage, sleep came easily. I was exhausted of all strength and emotion. And I was no longer afraid. The story might have a happy ending after all.

***

DAY 8--GEOFFREY

Sabrina was still dead to the world when I sneaked into her room the next morning. I wondered what she was dreaming about. Well, there was an easy way to find out.

I knelt next to her bed and lowered my head to one of her naked breasts. I began blowing gentle streams of air against the nipple until it began to harden. Then I let my tongue and lips take over. When I was sure she was awake, I went to work with my teeth. As soon as she arched her back, trying to press the dildos deeper inside her, I unbuckled the belt around her crotch and removed the plug from her pussy.

"Nice try, Sabrina," I whispered next to her covered ear. "But your pleasure is no longer your concern."

I removed the hood and the gag, then climbed on the bed so I was facing her feet, my knees on either side of her head.

"On the other hand," I said as I pulled down his pants, "my pleasure is your top priority."

I put my hands on either side of her waist and lowered my cock until its tip touched her lips.

"Don't make me get the ring."

She quickly took me into her mouth and started sucking like a teenager trying to impress her first college date.

"Take your time, Sabrina. Remember, the longer I last, the less time I have to pursue other activities."

So much to learn, I thought as she slowed down to a degree that made me wonder if she had lost consciousness. I made a mental note to show her some oral-sex videos that would give her ample opportunity to study more professional techniques.

When I finally came, I waited a good five minutes before extracting myself and getting off the bed.

"An excellent start to the day, Sabrina. Are you still ready to begin your training? Or would you prefer to take your chances with the auction?"

"Yes, please!" she said in a tone that was much too chipper for someone on the brink of being sold as chattel. She must think she's home free. I'd be very surprised if that was her attitude come Friday.

After completing our familiar morning rituals in the bathroom, I cuffed her wrists behind her back, and led her downstairs to the kitchen table, where she sat with straps around her waist and ankles while I prepared a large breakfast. I debated allowing her to feed herself, and wound up alternating forkfuls of eggs and potatoes between us. After cleaning up, I took her to the living room and began preparing for her first session.

Five days wasn't nearly enough time, so her auction listing specified "foal." But if she stayed, she'd have the rest of her life to get it right. Either way, it was a marvelous substitute for the now-unnecessary photo sessions as an eminently pleasant way to spend the day outdoors.

I started with the collar, a thick, stiff leather affair that covered her entire neck from shoulders to chin. Next came her harness, a collection of straps that I buckled tightly around her torso, her breasts straining through two metal hoops. Before cinching the belt that encircled her crotch, I added a plug for her ass that had a small ring embedded in its base that I threaded through a slit in the leather.

Next came the arm binder, which pushed her breasts even more tightly against the hoops as I laced it tight enough to make her elbows touch.

The bit gag with the blinders soon covered her head and mouth, followed by cuffs for her thighs.

Finally, I guided her feet into the boots. Instead of typical heels, they featured strong arches that forced her to stand on her tiptoes, but this was mitigated somewhat by the fact that the toes were built to mimic the hoof of a horse. Once I finished lacing them up her calves, I added two short chains to the ring jutting out between her legs, and clipped them to the thigh cuffs.

"Perfect," I said as I took a step back to admire my handiwork. "All you need are some clamps, but those are in the barn."

I picked up a riding crop, and gave her a nasty swat across her ass.

"After you," I said, pointing toward the door. We made our way into the bright sunshine and walked down the path toward the barn, her wobbly progress punctuated by an occasional prod from the lash. I enjoyed watching the way the chains jerked the ring of the plug back and forth as she tried to establish an acceptable rhythm to her gait.

"Good luck," I whispered soundlessly.

When we entered the main door of the barns, my horses began to whinny excitedly in their stalls.

"Easy there," I said in a soothing voice. "I'll be with you in a minute. But first, I want to show our guest something."

I directed Sabrina to a stall, and opened the door, where we were greeted by the sight of a saddle suspended in mid-air by four chains. Sticking up from the seat were two long rubber dildos.

"It was a pity to drill through the leather to install them, but I had to be sure they would stay put if necessary."

I let her absorb the physics in silence for a moment.

"Needless to say, if you fail this morning's lesson, we're going to take a little ride this afternoon with your ankles strapped to your thighs and these..."

I pointed to two heavy metal clamps hanging down from thin chains wrapped around the horn.

"Well, I think you get the idea."