The Lock Ch. 07: GATHER

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Simulated Rape, Pain (1 drop blood), Male Bi/Gay, MaleDom, FemDom, Family (no incest), Consensual Non-Consent, and Sex Work (idealized) The only coercion is from a sense of duty to family. All over 18.

Credits: Edited by the 'Erotic Confectioners. Many thanks to Onyx03, Grrl Orc, Jasmine27, and allnitediner as well as others for editing this story.

Note: Nine chapters total. Each chapter switches tense in the middle. I was experimenting with that as a way to increase pace. The chapter names just happened.

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"Now, one last thing." I took her hands and became very serious "I am not angry about your work with other men. I am not upset that we are sex workers, or that any of your decisions have led us to this place. Actually, I am... excited about our future here." Tears of relief welled up in her tired eyes.

"However," I said with a clenched jaw, and then pressed on despite the look of shock and fear on her face, holding her hands tight. "I am unspeakably injured that you failed to trust me enough to tell me about your debt before we married, and to share with me your burden and guilt before running away from me, leaving me heartbroken without you."

The look of shame, fear, and regret on her face was somehow comforting, in a very sad and wrong way.

I was revulsed at myself.

I noticed she was suddenly quiet and was staring at me. The guilt and shame were not evident any longer. She spoke in a strangely calm voice:

"In my family, there has not been a divorce or separation for generations despite what we have always done for a living. There is a special reason for this; an object... a family heirloom. It is... magical."

Reacting to my raised eyebrow she scowled "Yes, yes, simple backwards people who believe in magic. It is not that, it is just magical in the way it helps to solve problems; magical in the sense that we make it so."

"Ok... if you believe in it then the belief can have power." I agreed.

"It has a name that translates more or less as 'the Gatherer' and it allows a guilty party to pay for their error and move on. I asked my Mother to leave it in the cottage for me." Getting up she went to a high cupboard and brought out a long, thin, wooden box. Bringing it back to the bed, she opened it and showed me the contents. It looked like a magic wand, but thinner and longer, with a leather-wrapped handle at one end, and a very narrow strip of flat leather at the other end.

"That's a crop" I said in shock.

"Yes" she nodded, "and no. It is the Gatherer and it is necessary to fix our marriage and repair the damage I've done by not believing you could handle this." She looked at me earnestly. "I was going to bring it to you in America after I was done here and beg you to take me back. I hoped you could use it on me and repair our relationship, but I see now that I underestimated you. I think we can repair everything right now."

I started to reach for the crop and she stopped me. "No, I must hand it to you. The guilty must present the Gatherer and request a specific atonement." Reaching under the crop, she pulled out a slip of paper. "I have translated the words into English as best I could. I will say my part first, and then you must say your part."

Then she picked the evil looking thing up and held it up.

"I have wronged you, and I love you more than life, so that I can not live with the pain. I request that you gather my sins, release my guilt, and ease my pain so that we may love again."

Nodding to the paper in my hand, she indicated that I should read it.

"You will pay with your body, and your mind, and your soul. And when we are done, you will be forgiven, and there will be no guilt, and no pain, and we will have it behind us. Do you understand?"

She gulped and sobbed but nodded her head rapidly.

"I think you should say it." I ordered.

"Yes Master, I will pay with my body, mind and soul."

"And then?"

"Master, it will be behind us, and there will be no pain or guilt about it." she was a little shaky now and I wasn't sure why until she continued. "It is for the guilty to choose the punishment, for the price must match the guilt." She gulped, took a deep breath and continued.

"Master, I need for you to crop my breasts until the bite marks are erased and blood is drawn."

I was rocked back on my ass. Of course, I rejected the idea out of hand.

"I can't do that! I could never hurt you like that!" I practically yelled.

And she collapsed in sobs on the bed her hands outstretched still holding the thing. "PLEASE Master, please! I know it's hard, but I know how much I hurt you. And I know nothing less will release me." In a whisper, she continued "it said so."

We sat there for a while as she cried and begged me with her eyes. My mouth just hung open. Honestly, I had dealt with everything else. I had accepted her duty to her family and it's priority over our marriage. I had accepted her becoming a whore. That was the thought I had, but I instantly realized it wasn't fair. First, she was not working for money in the traditional sense, she was working to save her family. And I had to admit that I loved her being a sex worker, and I was doing the same and... yes, I was enjoying it. More than that, I loved seeing what she was willing to do, the pain she would put herself through. And the way she responded to it.

Crap. In for a penny. I sighed and nodded. She reached out and offered me 'the Gatherer' and I reached to take it.

And the instant I touch it, everything changes.

I am calm, almost distant. I hear myself order her to put her hands behind her back.

"As long as you keep them there I will continue, but if you move them, I will stop. Understand?"

"Oh Master! Yes, Master, I understand. I will not move." she is sobbing now.

"Do you wish to atone?" I ask.

"YES! OH GOD! YES! Please Master, please whip me NOW!" she screams. Trying to move towards me off the bed without moving her arms, she is tangled in the bedspread, tripping off the bed and falling on the floor. But she does not move her arms to catch herself. She uses her head to push herself to her knees.

I realize I am not breathing and I gasp and stand in front of her, grabbing her by the hair with one hand and pulling her back to expose her lovely breasts.

My arm swings down and the first strike falls on her breast, just where the bite mark is.

Everything happens in slow motion. I can hear her screaming, while my arm is going up and down, striking again and again. Time has lost its meaning. There is only the lashing, and the screaming.

My vision focuses on her chest. I see the red welts on her breasts, one directly on the nipple, which is starting to bleed.

And my arm has stopped. It will not move. I look up at it and I see motion out the window. Her father is running through the back yard towards us. Naked again. He is close enough that I can see a leather strap flapping between his legs. But now he stops. He turns and hears something, and then he looks back at us, his face in anguish. And then he drops to his knees and assumes the slave position. His wife... no, his Mistress, comes out of the house, naked as well. Old, but graceful. She walks to him with quick precision, then looks at me, and nods. A soft, very loving expression on her face.

And she takes his strap in hand, and he rises and she leads him back into the house.

I hear someone calling me, and I look back to see my wife, my slave, looking at me, mouthing "Master?" and suddenly I can hear her speaking again.

"Master?" She says. "Are you ok?" I nod dumbly.

"I am ready for you to finish" she says and I can't understand what she means. I look down and I see her breasts, covered in red, welts rising and that little bit of blood starting to drip from her nipple. I realize that because I am holding her head back she can not see.

"I am finished. Look" I say, releasing her hair. I have no anger, no question that she will ever betray me again, no doubt that now she will always tell me what she feels, what she needs.

"Thank you Master." she says, smiling at her torn up chest. And she is looking up at me with a lovely sunny smile.

"This pain is amazing, my entire body is buzzing and I feel like I could explode if a feather touched my clit." She is swaying a little, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Please make love to me?"

I take her in my arms, careful not to press against her injured breasts, and kiss her lovingly. I am... inspired, engorged, in love. My hard cock is pulsing. It wants. I lay her back, feeling her legs spread for me. Slipping into her just happens. I find myself easily moving in and out of her pussy. She is so wet that there is almost no sensation. That won't do.

"Squeeze my cock with your cunt, slave." I order her softly. She doesn't respond. I look at her face, and see that dreamy look has grown. Signing, I reach up, and slap her.

"AH. Yes Master. Thank you!"

"Squeeze my cock, cunt"

"Oh yes Master." It takes a visible effort for her to focus and comply. She is "flying." The endorphins and shock have wasted her brain for the moment. She doesn't fail me, however. Her pussy clamps and releases, over and over. Eventually falling into my rhythm, clamping as I pull out, releasing as I thrust back in. I am deeper in her than I can remember being.

"Master?"

"Yes little one?"

"Could you hurt me some more, please?" Her eyes lazily open, smiling at me with a dopey joy. "Maybe not my chest, but slap me around or spank me or something?"

"Yes love. As you wish" And I back hand her easily. Giving her exactly what she wants: Pain and caring. And sex.

I am amazed at myself, and at her, and at the wonders and perversions of the human body and brain.

Her little mouth is forming oh's and I decide it's time to fuck her face. I pull out and she starts crying. Tears are dripping down her face and she starts begging for my cock. Sliding it into her mouth shuts her up and she sucks and moans.

I slide forward, pinning her head to the bed. She is controlling her gag reflex; I can feel her throat working. It relaxes and I slip further in. She can't breath now, but she doesn't tense up. She is waiting. Waiting for me to let her live.

The trust she gives me, and the responsibility I am taking on causes me to shiver. I pull back. She quietly gasps, then opens her mouth for me again.

We reach the edge again and again.

She is snoring.

I lay down beside her and fall asleep.

****

I hope you can see that this is a love story. He would never hurt her in a way she didn't want or need. She wouldn't let him. She selected the punishment not to make him feel better, but to absolve herself of guilt and accept his forgiveness. Doing this brought them together. Doing this increased trust.

Many other events, which looked very much like this, have occurred in relationship, but were actually abuse. A punishment unwanted. A pain not desired. A trust abused. That is not the way.

This chapter is a bit short, because I just couldn't see combining this scene with other events in the story. It's very much it's own little turning point in their relationship. 7 down, 2 to go.