Control Ch. 03

Chapter Three: "Life and Death on the Web Site"

Geoffrey isn't an innocent. He has been known to use internet porn. Stories, pictures, videos. He belonged to a couple of subscription sites for awhile. He was blown away when he first saw a bestiality video, and again when bukkake first came out. He's looked at bdsm. He wonders how many women out there are happy to suck dogs or drink bowls of semen or have breast torture. He'd always thought the models were in it just for the money, and that either the money was awfully good or they were awfully needful, but now he's not sure. How many really like it?

It's almost three a.m. when Geoffrey finally clicks on the promo video. Anne really likes it. Here's where she'll say so.

The video focuses on a naked Anne, manacled but without the corset, and much heavier. Thirty pounds heavier. Maybe more. Probably more. She has fewer piercings. Her legs are shackled to a wide bar, spreading her legs away from her vagina and ass. Her arms are restrained behind her back, though the type of restraint isn't visible. The video begins with a close-up of her face, her mouth, sucking a big, pale penis, loving it. You can hear sighs when it pops from her mouth, before she reaches her mouth to it and sucks it back in. The lights are bright, making the penis glisten with her saliva.

After a few moments it pulls out and spurts onto her face. The shot opens up so the viewer can see her bindings, and part of the man attached to the penis. Anne turns to the viewer, looking straight on and using a sultry voice, ignoring the mucous on her face.

"Hi, I'm Anne. My husband Victor dominates me and controls me. I need that. Otherwise I'm too wild and disobedient. Every week you'll see live how he does it. He controls every facet of my life, my eating, my sleeping, the amount I can move, or if I can move at all. He controls if I can see or hear, and how much. He controls how much I can breath. He controls what goes into my mouth and my ass and my vagina, and what comes out of them. He controls my bladder. I need his discipline to do this, because I'm too weak otherwise. Every week you'll see him punish me so I'll behave. I'm completely his."

Geoffrey doesn't move. He's a statue. He doesn't whisper "shit," and for a minute he holds his breath. Look inside his mind. There's no poem pushing at the scene. It's quiet inside, just a little quivering like the background vibration of the universe. Dark. Empty. Alone. He's aware, but only of Anne, of her words, her face, a tiny droplet of sperm that's collected at the end of her right eyelash. It doesn't quite glue her eye closed. She blinks her eye all the way open and continues.

"Victor is everything to me, my whole life. I want to be good for him, to submit to him. He's going to make me the perfect wife. My reward is that he gives me his sweet penis. He controls my discipline and he controls my pleasure. I can't help myself, loving him and desiring him. I'm his slut."

Nothing from Geoffrey. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

"He has a project you'll get to watch. He's going to modify my body, to make me thin and beautiful, and to give me a tiny little waist. You'll see video clips of my diet. Every week you'll be able to see him weigh me. You'll see how I shed these pounds over the weeks, and you'll see him tighten my corset more, and more, making me thinner and thinner, and making me practice breath control. When he's finished with that and made me fragile and lovely, he'll modify my body other ways. You, the viewer, will get to decide his next project. I'm so excited to get started."

The video ends with the pale penis, only half-erect now, returning to Anne's face, and with her sucking it into her mouth. Fade.

Such an odd text. That's what Geoffrey thinks, now that words return. How long did it take them to script it? Them? Did Anne have input? How long did she rehearse? It sounded sincere. It wasn't perfect, though. Not professional. The light was too bright for her. She squinted and blinked. And she shook. Her legs shook. Her toes quivered. But her voice was right. It was her seduction voice, and her come hither look. In between bouts of blinking she batted her eyelashes in long, languorous, seductive movements. She'd used them on Geoffrey.

Geoffrey stares at the screen a long time.

There are files and files on the site. Geoffrey takes a cleansing breath and clicks a button labeled "Discipline," that brings up a page of thumbnail pics, twenty in all. Anne getting nipple, labia, or clitoris pierced. Anne twisting in the ropes while half-blurred tendrils from a short whip hang in the air, the skin of her ass looking red and painful. Marred. Clamps on Anne's nipples. A soldiering gun touching her belly while again she twists and must be screaming. Her neck and face are red, almost as red as her ass. Anne tied, on her knees, her ass in the air and wires leading inside her. This photo title reads "Enlightenment." Satan has a sense of humor.

Other thumbnail pages are titled, "Subduing Her," "Making Her Beg," "Breath Control," "Movement Control: Anne All Tied Up With Nowhere to Go," and "Controlling Revulsion: Anne the Toilet Slave." It must be forced, Geoffrey thinks. It has to be.

But maybe not. Some pictures are lifted from video clips. For $9.95 one can watch the ten or twenty-minute clip. Geoffrey pays for one titled "She Cums When She's Obedient" that opens off the "Making Her Beg" page.

He selects the file format and download speed off a menu, then clicks. When it comes on, Anne is tied to a wide, cushioned platform, spread wide and blindfolded. She isn't wearing her corset. Satan says "Count these nicely, dear, and you'll get a present."

"Yes, sweetheart." Her voice is shaky.

A belt or something strikes her stomach and she squeaks, then croaks "One."

"Good girl." He strikes her again.

When he has finished twenty he strokes her cheek with his hand while she whimpers. "Give us a sweet kiss now." Then he lets her lie gasping and twitching, in front of the camera. Her face is wet, tears having seeped under the blindfold. Her mouth is twisted. The camera stays on her as she calms. It is an odd few minutes, with nothing happening, but then he returns and begins petting her vulva.

She doesn't move. Her hidden face turns just slightly down toward his hand. He leans down to her and begins licking her. Nothing happens. Nothing happens. He continues, inexhaustibly. Anne lies quietly and lets him lick her. What else could she do? But it doesn't affect her. And then it does.

Geoffrey didn't notice when the change first began. He was looking at Satan's mouth on Anne's vagina, and when he looked back her face had changed. Her expression was different.

He backs up the video to watch just her face, and this time he sees it happen. The dead look begins to change. Anne opens her mouth just slightly. Just a bit. She pulls her head a little to the side. This is where she would have half-closed her eyes if he had been Geoffrey and she hadn't had a blindfold. In a moment her shoulders move. Her breathing becomes noticeable. Geoffrey can hear her start to pant. Then she makes a little sound.

"Are we getting hot, sweetheart?" It's a smarmy tone.

"Yes, darling. Yes." Her voice is a whisper, a hiss. Geoffrey wonders what would have happened if she were wearing the corset in this video. He watches her begin to get red, her neck, her upper chest all the way down to the tops of her breasts. Now the deep breaths are finished, replaced with those gasping pants. Those raspy sex grunts she makes, almost like barking. Now she's trying to move against Satan's mouth, and writhing, and moaning or grunting with every breath. Faster, faster. And now Satan stops.

"No." Anne swallows and pants. "Don't stop."

"Are you my little slave girl?"

"Yes. Yours. Don't stop. Please."

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you. Please, darling." She moves her head back and forth.

"Tell me you love me for your discipline, for controlling you. Say it."

"It's true. I love you. For controlling me. For punishing me. Don't stop. Please."

"Beg me."

"Please. I'm begging you. Please." She's sincere.

True to his word, Satan goes back to her vagina and eats and eats, and in a little bit it works. Anne's gasps and growls grow more animated. She's squirming as much as one can while tied, spread out on the platform, taking in deep breaths and letting them out loudly and getting redder, to where a vein stands out on her forehead, and another on her neck, and then she comes very loudly, squealing into the camera for a long time. After a bit Satan stops pleasuring Anne, and she begins to settle, her cries settling to whimpers and her whimpers settling to sighs and her sighs settling to breaths. The camera stays on her as her breathing becomes quieter, and quieter, and she finally becomes still.

Geoffrey watches the whole thing and plays it through a second time. He knows it is real. He'd thought Anne might have faked it, for fear of her husband, but no. Everything is as it was when they'd had sex, but intensified. She was louder on the video and more animated, and redder. She really came, but harder. And afterward, as she quieted, Anne became more relaxed. More fulfilled. Yes, certainly more fulfilled. That's clear to Geoffrey. She slipped into afterglow right there on the screen, and the last thing the clip showed was Anne drowsing.

* * * * *

The night passes away to the morning. At sunrise Geoffrey takes a break to feed the cats and let them out. He gets some water. He spends the rest of the morning on the web site. The world is ordinary again outside. Inside is a different matter. Geoffrey has looked at dozens of photos and run up $180 in charges on video clips. He masturbated to one of Anne's orgasm videos.

So this is it, Anne. This was why you cheated on me and left me. I thought you were seduced by the thrill of the dark side, because it was evil and dangerous, but it was so much more. Wasn't it? You left me to be a pain slut, a bondage slut. Was this what he lured you with? Was this inside you all along? Where did you hide it? Where? You didn't even like me to pinch your nipples! God, I loved you, you bitch.

It's not hidden now, not at all. The site advertises it about like every other kink site. They all say they have the most extreme sex, don't they? The most extreme and illegal tortures, the most disturbing or disgusting or degrading videos, never seen before, banned in 40 countries, come one, come all. This way to the "Egress." They lie, most of them lie, but this one doesn't. It's truthful. It has that one virtue.

Geoffrey watches one after another orgasm clip that all follow the same basic path. Anne is always bound and Satan always works her up slowly. He doesn't always make her beg him to finish her. In some he fucks her, her ass or her vagina, or makes her suck his penis while he pleasures her, but it always ends the same, with that beautiful, gut- wrenching eruption of pleasure that rushes from her sex all through her and finally flows up to her head and out every part of her face, especially her mouth.

It's real all right. She has what she wanted. So does Satan, no doubt.

* * * * *

What time is it? The sun has been up for hours. Geoffrey can't keep his eyes open. He nods off in the middle of short videos. He hasn't seen everything, but he can't watch any more. Some other time. First, some sleep. He thinks, I could have tied her. I could have whipped her. No, not likely. At least not like that.

He's been going back and forth, to torment scenes, then to pleasure scenes, mainly to pleasure scenes, though they all seem to contain some torment. Back and forth. One then the other. Geoff is putting them into a story he can understand. Your love loves you for what you are and for what she wants. He has about solved the puzzle, not of how Anne came to want what she wanted, but that she did. He didn't have a chance by that time, did he? Maybe he can let go now. She isn't ever going to come back. There won't be that knock at the door. Time to move on.

There's just one other thing. He plays back the archive of the newest show, the whole thing. He finds himself asleep in front of the screen and jerks himself awake. Every few seconds he has to shake his head. Wake up, Geoff. Go over the show. Just one more thing. Find it. Then, there it is on last night's show. Right before Satan burned her with the cigarette. She'd whispered it out. "Help. Please." It was scarcely a gasp.

Who was she asking for help? Geoffrey plays it again.

"Help. Please."

Temporary fear. She just lost her nerve. Later she'll surely thank him for the pain and he'll help her get off again. But. But. "Help. Please." She shrank from him. She feared him. But, again, there are the orgasms. Two of them are recent. It's obvious from her weight and the corset.

"Help. Please." Just a whisper into the camera.

Damn it Anne, stop playing with me! Geoffrey logs off and sways to the couch to sleep.

* * * * *

When Geoffrey is almost asleep a thought swirls around his mind and settles in front of his eyes. It's about a video he hasn't seen. The photo teaser is of a large, black crate, and the title is "Maximum Control: Boxing Her Up." Something about her little cry for help makes him think of it. "Help. Please." Why? Something about it. He doesn't know what, but he opens his eyes and lies there for several minutes before getting up.

Log on. Get the credit card.

It is large, about the size of a trunk, taller than it is wide and longer than it is tall. It's black, sitting on a concrete floor before a concrete wall. Otherwise the room seems to be empty. There is no natural light. For several seconds one can scarcely make out, at the very top of the screen, what must once have been a window opening, sealed with brown bricks. Or maybe they just look that way in weak, yellow light. The box and the floor dominate the scene, making it monochrome, gray and black. The light from the camera throws shadows that are almost charcoal. The only real color is Satan's flesh.

"Look where my sweet Anne will be resting for the next twelve hours or so," he tells the audience. "It's important that she get her beauty sleep."

Satan lifts the lid and shows the inside. The camera must be mounted on a wheeled stand, because it doesn't jerk as it is moved around. In the box there are two or three inches of some kind of insulation on all sides. Styrofoam? There are some straps and a wooden contraption. Its floor seems to be thickly carpeted.

"Come here, dear." Satan pulls a leash and Anne steps into view. This isn't an old video. She's grisly in the plain camera light. She's as monochrome as everything else in the scene, white skin and black corset. Her arms are covered in a black fabric that completely masks them, and are secured behind her back. The camera scans Anne from her feet, past her pudendum, to her pushed-out breasts, to her face. When it reaches her face Geoffrey yells something.

He yells "No!"

Maybe he doesn't yell it out. He remembers it as a yell. He felt it as a yell.

Anne's face is small. It's the face of a person waiting for the blow to fall. It's red. Her eyes are swollen. Victor begins talking to the audience again and as he does she stares at him and makes tiny little shakes of her head. "No!" It's clear what she means, but the shakes are minuscule. Her mouth moves, as though she wants to beg him but is afraid to actually say the words, so she stops herself each time she begins. What did he do to make her so afraid?

"Time to get in dear." Anne's legs begin to shake.

He pulls her by the leash and she steps over the side into the box. Geoffrey can hear her mew. Say something Anne. Say it! Tell him, damn it! But she doesn't say anything.

At that moment, Geoffrey knows what is in her mind. He knows it precisely, exactly. He knows that the story he worked out for himself is wrong, or at least the end is wrong. What's going through Anne's mind is the knowledge that it can always be worse. Satan can always make it worse. Geoffrey knows he's demonstrated that fact to her. On her. So she whimpers and shivers and stands at one end of the box, facing the other, and then she folds down into the box without complaining because to refuse will be to make it even worse for herself.

When she's on her knees Victor pushes short, cylindrical plugs into her ears and nostrils. He reaches outside the frame of the video to grab a mask that seems to be made of black leather, that he forces down over her head, until her eyes and ears and nose are completely covered. Now she's blind and deaf. There's a ball gag with a clear plastic tube running through it. It's a long tube, Anne's only source of air. Victor pushes the gag into her mouth and fastens it with a strap behind her head. Then he pushes her forward, to fold her the rest of the way into the box.

He fiddles with something near her head. When he's done he shows the audience the plastic tube sticking out of the end near her head and running along the floor. That's why it's so long. The camera moves in to show Anne inside the box. A snug fit. Two straps hold her feet as far apart as possible, which isn't very far. Her neck rests in a small stock. Victor slides the top part down to hold her head in place and fastens it with a wing nut. "Good-night, dear." He closes the box and latches it. Then he and the camera back away, out past a doorway, the room goes black, and the door closes. The last image is of Victor locking the door.

* * * * *

Stare at the screen. You know, Geoffrey, don't you? How do you know you know? She gave clues. It wasn't the only time. "Help. Please." She didn't always stifle herself. Maybe she couldn't always make herself do it, couldn't control herself.

She's wrong in any case. She thinks it can always get worse, that it will be worse if she disobeys. The truth is a little different. It'll get worse whether or not she obeys. It's already gotten worse. Anne has spiraled so far down. Satan will always up the ante, no matter what she does. Maybe she can delay some punishment awhile. Maybe.

Geoffrey is unbearably tired. He rests his eyes a moment. Wake up, Geoff! He jerks himself awake again.

When did it go from excited domination to battering? When was the first time he hurt her just to be brutal? Was it sudden? Did he hit her when his dinner was late, knock her to the floor and crack a rib? Did he make her sit on her hands so he could smack her face unopposed? Geoffrey sees her hobbled, cleaning the house behind barred windows, shuffling, locked in a closet at night, slapped and punched as her world becomes ever more constricted, until it's just the basement, and her torment becomes systematic, and Satan is her only company in an empty universe.

Did it happen after they filmed that promo? Maybe before. He made her rehearse it, after all. Maybe it really was phony. Go back to it.

"Hi, I'm Anne. My husband Victor dominates me and controls me. I need that. Otherwise I'm too wild and disobedient."

What's she doing? It's her seductive voice all right, so why doesn't it seem right? She's fidgeting, shaking, blinking. Geoffrey watches her eyes, the veronicas she makes with her lashes, then the quick blinks against the glob of semen and the camera light. Look at them, Geoff.

Geoffrey doesn't want to see Anne use her eyes like that, not for Satan. He thinks, she used them for me. They were special. They're not for him. He looks at her legs, quivering. Is there a clue in them? No, look at her face, Geoff. One thing at a time. Her eyes, Geoff.

They're strange. The blinks come all together, and so do the soft sashays. Just one or the other. Watch them. There! Again. Three slow passes in the air, and three blinks. Three slow and three fast. Three dashes and three dots. Again. Again.