Tell Me What You Want Ch. 06

Hector bit into the bread, tasting himself now instead of Bea on the slice, choking it down as best he could, trying to ignore the taste and what it meant. He took it in three bites, chewing mechanically and swallowing until he was done. He looked up at his owner, eyes moist, showing her the cost of his obedience.

"Is it delicious, slave, to be fed your own cum?"

"Yes, it's delicious, Ma'am."

"Are you going to thank me for giving you lunch?"

"Thank you for my lunch, Ma'am. It was all delicious."

"Good boy. I knew you'd do it."

"How?"

"The stories you sent Lotte. Cum eating featured quite heavily. Or was that just accidental?"

Hector gaped at her revelation, that she'd compiled an inventory of the contents of the stories he'd sent Lotte and that his wife had passed on. Bea was doing it too, just like Lotte, using the stories as a blueprint for what she was doing to him. Bea was trusting that they were signals for what he truly needed, in absence of any experience of her own.

Bea crouched down to him and screwed the bolt back into his cage, stoppering him. She did it perfunctorily, as if it was just something that was done when her slave had been relieved.

"Drink the rest of the water. I need you see you've hydrated."

Hector obeyed her, swallowing the clean, cool water in loud gulps, washing away the aftertaste gladly.

"Good. Now, back to work. I want the fence complete by sunset, or there will be consequences."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Bea looked down at the ball gag, seeming to consider it for a moment. Her eyes flicked back up to him.

"Well, what are you waiting for? I'm not feeding you again."

Hector took that as a dismissal, and returned to his work in the garden.

"I think I'll tell Lotte to keep you like this," she called after him, "Nice and naked and hard at work. I'd like to see what we can do with you by the end of the summer, all fit and taut, golden skin and not a tan line anywhere."

Hector glanced back at her. She had her hands folded across her chest, grinning at him.

"I'd enjoy turning you into eye candy, slave. Now, come on, get to it."

Hector resumed his work with the fence, while Bea settled back down on her garden chair with her book. Every once in a while, she would cut a slice of bread and smear it with the salmon dip. She caught his eye from across the garden with the bread poised at her mouth. Her tongue emerged from between her lips and she began to lap at the creamy, pale topping, drawing it into her mouth and grinning at him. Then she bit into the bread and resumed reading her book.

The sun shifted in the sky, lowering, the heat of the day beginning to wane at last. Hector had the last few palings to go, his skin glistening and grimy with sweat, dust and sunscreen. Bea had put her book down and was scrolling absently through her phone when it rang. Hector's heart jumped.

Immediately, he thought of his wife. She hadn't attempted any communication with him since shipping him off to her friend for training. Maybe Bea had been issuing status reports via messages, or maybe having a quick chat whenever she slipped away from her supervisory position on the garden chair, but Hector hadn't seen it.

He watched carefully out of the corner of his eye as he hammered in the nails, keeping tabs on the conversation she was engrossed in.

He couldn't hear what was being said. Bea kept her voice low, her eyes flicking up once or twice to look at him. It wasn't much to go on, but he got a little tingle, imagining Bea relaying the demeaning things she'd been able to do to Lotte's husband. He found himself trying to interpret the gaps in the conversation, Bea's face. The gaps lengthened and Bea's expression became more sombre. Hector's heart sank. Bea scrunched her nose up, turning away, and Hector forced himself to focus on the fence. That last part hadn't looked good, it hadn't looked good at all.

At last, he finished, banging the last nail in loudly and then stepping back. The chain tinkled, swinging in the late afternoon sun between the clothesline and his collar. Bea was still buried in her screen. Hector decided to go over to her and get further instructions. He came to a halt quietly by the side of her chair, suddenly conscious of the grime on his bare skin and the odour of sweat from a day in the sun. She seemed preoccupied; he guessed that perhaps her phone call hadn't gone as planned.

Hector decided to wait for Bea to look up at him. She didn't, ignoring him for several minutes, leaving him standing there.

"Trouble, Ma'am?" he asked at last, breaking the lengthy silence.

"No. It's fine."

"You didn't look fine, Ma'am. Was it...."

"Cut the Ma'am, Heck. It's getting on my nerves."

"Uh, sorry. I just wondered who it was you were arguing with. Was it Lotte?"

Bea blinked at him, surprised, replying, "Why would you...?"

"You were arguing, and I just assumed. Was it her?"

That seemed to rouse her, and she sat up straighter, banishing the confusion from her face.

"No, it wasn't Lotte. It was someone else."

Hector didn't speak and Bea squirmed a little before eventually yielding a confession.

"It was Brent."

Hector felt relieved, but then almost immediately, disconcerted.

"He's still ringing you?"

Bea didn't answer, seemingly abashed by his question. The understanding dawned slowly in Hector's mind.

"He's ringing you on a Saturday night."

"Just say it, Heck, just fucking spit it out," Bea snapped back at him.

"Bea, why's he ringing you?"

"Why do you think?"

Hector sat down on the edge of the table while Bea watched him through lidded eyes, waiting. He needed to ask.

"Are you getting back together, is that it?"

Maybe that was the plan, all along. Bea was training him, sure, but was she also building herself up to the point that she could finally handle her domineering ex-husband? Bea had been so brutally hurt when he'd walked away, the love she had for her man twisting into something darker and more painful. Was that it? A fresh start on more equal terms? How much of this did Lotte know? How much of this was all part of a grander plan concocted between the two of them?

"You're seeing him again?" Hector asked.

Bea didn't answer. She didn't have to.

"You didn't tell me. Did you tell Lotte?"

"No, I didn't say anything. We're not back together. We're just, I mean, I'm, uh, we're working through something."

Hector knew that he was out of bounds, but instead of shutting him down, Bea was giving him answers. He pressed on.

"Is he staying over?"

"Sometimes."

"Oh, Bea. That's...."

"I know what it is, Heck, I'm fully aware. It's fucked. You can say it," she exploded.

"Is it what you want?"

Again, Bea didn't answer, but the expression that crossed her face, the doubt, tugged at something deep within him.

"You can't let him, Bea."

Her face crumpled. She stared down at her hands.

"Don't you think I know that?"

"What did he say on the phone?"

"He wants to see me. Don't, please... just don't say it."

"Say what, Bea?"

"Dial-a-fuck, and I'm letting him."

"When?"

Bea took some time to gather her thoughts. She sucked in a breath and ran a hand through her hair, poking her blonde locks out of the way, putting on a brave face.

"I told him I was busy. I told him no," she said.

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, but I'm doing something, I said. I am. I'm doing things with you. That's when he got really shitty."

She grimaced, her eyes suddenly bright.

"He called me things, Heck, but I still said no."

"What did he say?"

"He called me a slut."

Hector felt the rage boiling up inside him, and he hissed, "You're not, Bea. You're anything but."

"I know. I know that, for fuck's sake. It still fucking hurt."

"So, he's not coming?"

"No, he hung up."

Hector reached out and took her hand. She wrapped her fingers around his.

"Progress," he offered.

"Yeah, I guess."

She dropped his hand and got up from the chair, suddenly animated.

"Look, I'm gonna go, uh, I'll go for a run. I haven't gone all weekend because of...."

"Go. I'm fine. Sorry, you should have said. I can look after myself."

"I have to unlock you though. It's not safe to leave you chained up on your own."

"I'll be fine. Look, unlock me. Then you don't have to worry. I promise I won't run."

Bea hesitated again, her eyes darting indecisively from the chain to Hector's face.

"It's against protocol though," she said.

"What protocol?"

"Slave protocol. Slaves must be restrained. It's part of the training."

Hector stood up, facing her.

"It's not Bea. It's just some words that someone made up. You don't have to follow someone else's dumb rules, someone who has no idea of who you are, or who Lotte is, or me, or what any of us want."

"They're not dumb rules."

"They're words somebody put on a forum somewhere, probably to make themselves feel good. It's what you do that really matters, what we feel as we go through this. You can trust me not to run. I promise I'll behave."

"Will you?"

Bea was dithering, overwrought. Hector already knew the words; they were there in his head, clear and immediate.

"Unlock me so I'm safe. Go for your run and feel better. I won't escape."

He took her hands in his.

"I don't need to be trained, Ma'am," he told her, "You've done it already. You've broken me. Just order me to stay and I will obey."

He closed his eyes, feeling the sweet bliss of confession. It was true, she'd somehow reached into him and triggered it. He was bound now, not by ropes or chains, but by something much stronger: words.

"Stay," she rasped, her eyes wide, staring up into his face.

"Yes, Ma'am," Hector replied, his eyes still screwed shut.

He felt a tug on his collar and a click and the weight of the chain dropping away. It was a relief.

---

[Next chapter: Bea and Lotte are satisfied with Hector's progress into accepting his position as their plaything, but then something unexpected happens. Hector makes a decision that has catastrophic consequences.

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