Better Ch. 01

Story Info
A damaged woman needs her Master's control to heal
11.4k words
4.76
48.6k
71

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/10/2022
Created 03/06/2014
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

***Author's Note: This story, based on a series of dreams I had, proved hard for me to categorize. There are elements of mind control, which itself raises questions about consent, as well as a heavy dose of dominance and "programmed" sexual slavery. Yet I hope it also reads as a love story, too, between two people who both cannot be together and cannot be apart from one another. I've chosen BDSM because of the nature of the sex scenes to come in the next chapters, but avid readers of the category might argue it doesn't quite fit for this one. It starts a little disorienting, but stay with it—it'll make sense in the end!***


The snow is falling. The air inside is warm, but the window cold, crystalline cold. The world is almost white, but for the faint outlines of trees and the stream. The water flows black, caps of white peaking and frothing. The trees cling to their meager shield of leaves, to no avail. Heavy white flakes of snow, born along by the wind, batter the blood red leaves, tearing them from the tree. Everything moves so slowly, the stream, the scarlet leaves, dancing for a moment in the wind before settling into the soft banks of snow or falling, like Ophelia, into the stream.

It was happening again.

***

Where am I?

It was bright. Images focused. Rows of colored plastic. Cold air. Music that sounded almost familiar.

Thank god—the grocery store.

Audrey was starving. Her legs felt sore, but it didn't compare to the tenderness in her most intimate areas. She looked down at the shopping cart below her: grapes, bananas, crackers, tuna, yogurt.

When did I get those?

She navigated her cart towards the front of the store. She was in pain; not unbearable, but not easily ignored either. She wanted to go home, where she wouldn't have to concentrate, to try to remember where she was, what she was doing, even who she was. At home, mommy and daddy would help her.

"Paper or plastic?"

Audrey couldn't fully understand the question. She wasn't made of either.

"Whatever you want," she responded.

It was easier to just agree.

***

Their laughter was cruel.

"Slut! Slut! Slut! Slut! Slut!"

"This chick is just nasty!"

"Dude, at least wipe it off first."

"How much is that?"

"A fucking gallon, bro."

"Who's cleaning her up this time?"

***

Every vein on every leaf is visible, branching out like lightning across the sky. The world is almost totally silent. No one is alive, but no one is dead. There is no Audrey to stand at the window.

The stream flows on. Somewhere, it flows into a river, and that river flows into the ocean. The stream begins in a mountain, but no one has ever seen it, and no one ever will.

***

"This is the girl you were talking about?"

"Yeah, she's come by, like, ten times this month."

"Who is she—who the fuck are you?"

Audrey didn't know how she got to this house, and she didn't recognize the two men in front of her. They looked maybe twenty years old, dressed in running shorts and t-shirts. The dark-haired one looked confused and in disbelief, as if she couldn't possibly be real. The sandy-haired one gave her an evil leer.

"My name is Audrey," she said. "But I don't know...anything."

The sandy-haired man snapped his fingers.

"Watch this—hey, Audrey. Don't you want to suck our cocks? You know how to, right?"

Audrey's mind was fuzzy. She shivered, as if a sudden cold draft had brushed across her skin.

"Whatever you want," she said.

***

Audrey felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you OK, honey?" an older woman asked her.

The older woman wore rimmed glasses and a knit cardigan that looked homemade. She had curly white hair, and Audrey thought that if she could remember anything or anyone, then this lady would have probably reminded her of someone nice.

"No," Audrey told her, "I don't feel good. I'm going home so my mom and dad can look after me."

The woman looked surprised.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, I thought you went to college here."

Audrey tried to think for a moment before giving up.

"I might."

***

I'm at home, right now.

There was no snow, no stream, no tree. The house was big, so big that she was afraid that if she tried to explore it all she'd get lost and forget where she was. There were parts she couldn't remember, rooms left unopened. She was hungry, though she loathed eating.

Audrey walked to the fridge: grapes. Lot of them.

I must buy them everyday. I wish I could remember not to.

She closed the fridge; on the door, she had a whiteboard. Written in red marker:

NO GRAPES TODAY

Great job—that'll work.

Audrey got her bunch of grapes and curled up into the corner of her sofa. Slowly, she fed herself. The grapes were sour, unpleasant, but for some reason they were the easiest thing for her to eat. As she ate, she let her mind go to the other place: not to her window, but to him.

Master.

His face was kind but strong, and she was grateful for the small blessing of remembering it. Sometimes he would smile, and her heart would melt. Little lines would form at the corners of his green eyes, and his cheek bones would lift, so that he was just barely squinting as he smiled down on her. Other times, his face was stony and fierce, and she knew she had displeased him. If he would only come to punish her, to discipline her, then maybe he could forgive her. Maybe he would even come back.

Audrey touched herself when she thought of Master, but never brought herself to climax. Only Master could give her that gift.

Tomorrow. I'll find him tomorrow, and he'll have to forgive me

***

Another day.

Pieces that don't fit.

Some people are nice, but some people aren't.

Audrey felt sore, but she couldn't remember why.

Why won't Master come back?

Snow falling on red leaves.

***

Audrey was startled to hear a knock on the door. She had been...asleep? Putting moments together was always difficult; sometimes, it was easier to believe that each moment was like waking from a dream.

She went to the door, uncertain if she was supposed to know who was there. There was a big note on the door:

HOME CARE @ 9 AM AND 4 PM

She looked outside, and it was dark already.

Home care is Linda. Linda is nice, and I should listen to her.

Audrey felt proud of herself. She read that note this morning, and it stuck in her brain as late as...well, as late as it was now. She opened the door.

Finally.

"I'm sorry for coming here, Audrey," the man at the door told her.

He made no effort to enter the house; in fact, he stood five feet from the door and looked uncomfortable even being there. Yet he couldn't take his eyes off Audrey, and even she could tell his emotions were charged.

"Master? You came back."

"Master?" he said incredulously. "You're still—shit. I...we need to talk. Can I come in?"

Audrey felt a rush of joy, as her body seemingly unclenched from the tension that wore her down from day to day. Master looked so beautiful, so perfect. He would punish her, true, but then he would forgive her, and she could serve him, and love him, and worship him again.

Audrey felt a jolt when she realized that, though she thought of Master every day, the time they had spent apart had softened and distorted his image in her mind. Seeing him in the flesh again triggered thoughts, thoughts that danced on the edge of becoming memories.

He was tall, but not too tall. Just perfect, she thought, and he was fit without having any show-offy muscles or flashy clothing. His face was clean-shaven and youthful, though the hint of stubble gave him a masculine gravitas. Most of all, his sparkling brown eyes were captivating. Audrey could stare into them all day.

As she contemplated all the things Master would do to her, she felt...different. The knock, the sign on the door, remembering the home care nurses's name, seeing Master. The moments fit together, seamlessly, for once. Instead of broken pieces, they formed...a story. A memory.

"Please Master, please come in. I'm so sorry I made you mad. I'll do anything to make it up to you."

Master hurriedly entered the room, before taking hold of one of Audrey's arms. The feeling of his hand on her skin was electric. She felt a tingle inside, a warmth spread through her body. As her body grew more excited, though, her mind grew clearer. She suddenly felt as if she could see better. She saw the stubble on Master's chin, the soft, round lobes of his ears, the ridge under his nose, leading into his lips. She saw him the way she saw her vision of the window.

"I'm not your Master, Audrey. I guess I hoped you'd gotten...better. I should have known it was impossible. Do you remember me?"

"Of course, Master. You own me. I used to serve you, please you. I belong to you—"

"None of that ever happened," he said. "It's part...it's what we did to you. A couple of years ago you were part of a project at the university, and I worked on that project. We...damaged your mind and your memory-forming capacities—"

Master kept talking, but Audrey couldn't understand what he was doing. He told her stories about her that made no sense, about some kind of neurological experiment, about people she'd never heard of. It overwhelmed her, and she tuned out his words, only to focus on the sound of his voice. It flowed over her, like a soft breeze. She could feel his words on her skin, even if she couldn't understand them.

"Listen to me right now."

She snapped to attention. Since he'd arrived, Audrey had noticed that Master had changed, only she couldn't put her finger on how exactly. Now she realized that until that command, he hadn't been using his real voice.

"I'm sorry," Master said. "I had to do that. It's my fault for laying so much on you. I should have known you couldn't handle it. Audrey, I want you to answer some questions for me."

"Of course, Master," she responded, her voice betraying a dreamy arousal. "I would do anything for you."

"Do you know what happened to your parents?"

Audrey tried to think back to where they'd gone. She couldn't remember having seen them for a while, but that wasn't unexpected in her condition.

"No," she said, fearing she was disappointing him. "But I'll look for them, if you want."

"It's alright," he said. "You wouldn't be able to find them. Audrey, do you have a nurse visit you?"

"Yes. A home care nurse comes at 9 AM and 4 PM," she said.

Master smiled. I got the answer right

"I'm so happy you can remember that," he said, before she pointed at the sign on the door.

His smile went away a little, which made Audrey sad.

"Well, you're still smart, even after everything. Just one more question: are you hungry?"

Audrey was almost always hungry. She invariably delayed eating until forced by physical need. It was simply something she didn't like to do.

"Yes, but I can wait," she said with confidence.

Master reached down to a canvas bag that Audrey had paid little attention to before and pulled out a Ziploc bag full of white grapes.

"I remembered you liked these," he said. "I want to try something that I think might help you. I think we should sit down."

Audrey hesitated, not because she didn't want to follow Master to the sofa, but because she hoped he would lead her by the hand, hold his body close to hers. Yet after the initial touch on her arm, he had maintained some distance from her, as if he was afraid to touch her.

Disappointedly, she walked over to the sofa, expecting at this point for Master to sit at the far side. When he came down and sat himself right up against her, their legs touching, she felt a thrill. Master reached his left hand behind her and cradled her head, his hand pulling through her tangled blonde curls. Pulling her hair hurt, but the pain was both bracing and clarifying, like diving into a cold pool of water. With his hand firmly at the back of her head, Master plucked a grape from the bag and brought it slowly to her lips.

"Eat this grape for me."

Audrey was swimming in sensation. Her body was humming, vibrating like a wire. Her mind felt sharp; she knew exactly what was expected of her, what was happening. For the first time since—who knows?—Audrey felt like herself.

She took the grape into her mouth and bit down into it. Its juices exploded into her mouth.

I've gotta go to his grocery store.

She had never tasted a grape so good. It wasn't simply the flavor, though that was exquisite: sweet and slightly tart, rich and full over her tongue. It was the texture of the flesh, soft, but firm, and the feeling of the cold juice running across her tongue, into her mouth, and down her throat. For a moment, all she could smell was the grape, and her rotten, awful grapes seemed worthless in comparison.

"Wait one moment."

Audrey unquestioningly obeyed. Master left her on the sofa to rummage through her kitchen. She heard him laugh when he opened the fridge, and he returned with a second bag of grapes, this one she had bought herself.

"Audrey, was my grape better than your grapes?"

"So much better, Master. I've never tasted something like that before."

"Well, let's try one of your grapes, OK?"

Audrey had no intention of denying her Master.

Could this be part of my punishment? Tempt me with one of his grapes, then force me to eat the rotten grapes I bought? I'll do it. I'll eat them all for him.

Master placed his hand at the back of her head again. Audrey would eat the bad grapes, as long as he would hold her like this. He slowly brought up the grape and placed it at her lips. She opened her mouth and let him slip the grape inside. Then she bit down into it.

How did he do that?

"You liked this grape, too, right?"

"Did you switch them?" she asked. "It's as good as the first one. Maybe better."

"Don't ask me questions about this right now. I'm sorry. Listen, Audrey, this is going to sound...well, it is crazy. But I think it'll work, so...I'm going to feed you at night now. I can't explain it yet."

Master fed Audrey another mouthwatering grape, which she greedily accepted into her waiting mouth. She felt so cared for and loved, as he fed her by hand.

"You look...you're too thin. You weren't always like that. I can help you eat better, and I...I don't want to get your hopes up, but I think it could help you some in other ways, too. I wish it wasn't like this. You deserve so much better. But for now, I'll see you every night to make sure you get a good dinner."

"Thank you, Master," Audrey said, happy that Master hadn't given up on her.

She knew that her punishment was coming soon, but Master's kindness in feeding her was completely welcome. She wished he'd told her he'd never leave her side, but she could sense, through intuition and maybe even faint memory, that seeing him every day was all she deserved until she atoned for what she'd done to Master.

They sat together, silently, as Master fed her the remainder of the grapes in the bag. Though Audrey felt at peace in his arms, she was by no means sated and content. Being in the proximity of Master without feeling him touch her everywhere, without the chance to truly serve him, without offering her body to his pleasure, was also nerve-wracking. Master was feeding her, caring for her, caressing her head, and she was doing nothing to relieve the agony he must be feeling in not taking out his powerful lust on her.

As Master fed her a grape, Audrey let her hand trail down to his crotch. She expected to find his cock rock hard, ready for her to worship it. But Master only moved her hand away.

"Don't do that ever, Audrey." he said.

Audrey felt her body begin to shake. She was crying before she realized it.

"I'm so sorry, Master," she sobbed. "All I need is a chance. I'll show you—"

"I'm not your master," Master exclaimed. "My name is Alex."

"Why are you doing this to me Mast—"

"Do not call me Master. Call me Alex."

Audrey felt a swirl of confusion. She hadn't meant to violate Master's boundaries. But demanding she not call him by his name, call him something else, was confusing. She feared it would tax her memory, the last thing she needed.

Master stopped feeding her, and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said stroking her hair softly as she cried into his shoulder. "It's not your fault. It's mine. It's hard to see you again. I tried to stay away."

Audrey tilted her head to look at him, her eyes still rimmed with tears, even after feeling comforted by his embrace.

"Please don't stay away," she begged in a soft voice. "I need you so bad. I won't...do whatever I did to make you go ever again. I'm sorry I can't remember what it was."

Master—Alex, remember it's Alex—held her by her waist, looking into her sad blue eyes.

"I'm not mad at you," he said, pained by what he had to do. "I...shit...I forgive you. Please do not worry about me being mad at you anymore. We are...officially OK now. Do you understand?"

Audrey felt relieved.

"Yes Master. Thank you so much. I'll show you how good I can be. I'll get 'it' back one day."

Master looked confused, before it dawned on him.

"Audrey, you and I haven't...had sex. Ever. We aren't going to. I'm here to help you because I owe it to you."

Master left to make a sandwich, and Audrey felt confused. She had precious few memories, and now Master was telling her that even those were wrong. She didn't want to challenge him and risk pushing him away again, but it hurt to think that what few shreds she had of a life, of an identity, were illusions. She didn't know if Master would lie to her: he could be firm, even merciless, but never sadistic or cruel. His harshness was always for her benefit, to train her and teach her how to be the person he wanted her to be.

It was too much for her to take, the strain on her mind. She started to drift, until she wasn't there anymore at all. Somewhere far away, snowflakes fell on a stream, mingling in with blood red leaves.

"Audrey? Audrey? What's happening?"

I'm lost in a dream, Master...

***

"I brought you some chicken," Alex said, as he shoved the front door aside, struggling with grocery bags. "Did Nancy put the soup in the crock pot this morning?"

"Yes," Audrey said. "Can't you smell it?"

"I can," he said. "Although I think soup isn't the easiest thing to spoon-feed you."

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was stupid—"

"No," he chimed in. "it wasn't stupid. You're not stupid."

These unconventional dinners had been going on for a week now.

"Audrey, what did we eat for dinner yesterday?"

Audrey searched her memory, but could only remember impressions: the feel of Master's strong hand cradling her head, the sensation of Master's strong body against hers, the longing she felt to please Master, the sadness and shame that came from seeing Master unhappy and dissatisfied in her presence.

"I'm sorry, Master, I don't...I mean, Alex...I...I can't..."

Master held her close and rubbed her back as she cried. I know if he would just punish me then I could make him happy again.

"Don't cry," he said soothingly. "You're making progress. You told me you were going to wear that dress yesterday, and you remembered to today."

I remember saying that. I remember thinking that Master would be pleased. I remember...

"Spinach salad...and...salmon!"

Master's face lit up, and Audrey felt a warm feeling suffuse her.

"That's right," he said. "You are getting better."

***

On her own, Audrey couldn't quite remember exactly when they started eating together, so she kept a calendar of their meals. Each day, though, she found herself able to remember bits and pieces of every night, until she could remember whole days and nights, even a few in a row. She didn't go out anymore, and she could even remember why she used to wander the streets alone: she had been looking for Master. Now she didn't need to look any more.