The Rebellious Slave Ch. 03

Lord Arlington intended to use it only when the girl had angered him, thereby corrupting the term with pain and fear, promoting depersonalization, and ultimately furthering her breakdown. It was a trick he had learned while in Bremmington, and it worked surprisingly well. He'd largely referred to his victims by their cell numbers and had only called them by their names prior to a torture session. After a while, Arlington could greet a prisoner with a friendly "Good Morning, Mr. Laiten!" and the man would be on his knees in seconds, begging for permission to spill his guts. The girl might eventually figure out what he was up to, but it would take her time. In the meanwhile...

"So you still won't answer me, Kara?" Lord Arlington asked, kneeling beside her and gripping her astonishing locks in one hand. Her eyes were all too readable and he watched as she reached into the back of her mind, contemplating what would be done with her. "No matter. Your silence is plenty an answer in itself, for if you had been properly dealt with, you wouldn't dare ignore my question." Then reaching down between her legs, Lord Arlington gripped the dildo in her ass and yanked it out sharply, feeling a shudder of pain—positively delicious—run up through the girl's body. "Pity, and we could have finished the evening on a much more pleasant note."

Standing to his feet, Lord Arlington moved behind the girl and out of sight. He pulled on a lever embedded in the wall and as the chains holding her rose slowly upwards, she went with them, until she was standing on tiptoe and extended like a star. The girl looked so vulnerable and so alone like that, dressed only in metal and leather with sweat dripping down her naked form and her eyes alight with dread. Arlington saw her shiver in the firelight—from fear, or cold, or perhaps the strain on her legs—and thought it exquisite. Gently this time, he placed a hand on either side of her hips and felt her shudder beneath him, then try and jerk away. It was an instinctual reaction and it didn't surprise him. Rather than chastise or punish the girl, Lord Arlington simply waited for her to relax and grow still. Then he ran a hand along each of her arms, her sides, her breasts, her buttocks. Wrapping a hand around her throat, he squeezed carefully and could feel the sudden increase in her heart rate against his fingertips.

"You seem nervous, pet," Lord Arlington commented, raking his fingernails across her ass and listening to her hiss in reply. "Good, I expect to get at least a few sizable screams out of you." Then he finally released her and retreated back into the darkness.

Lord Arlington often carried a whip on his belt and as it came unfurled in his hands, suddenly let it loose and snapped it in the air. A loud crack followed and the girl jumped at the sound, unable to look behind her and observe its source. In a frenzied panic, she struggled against her restraints, but Lord Arlington ignored her muffled pleas and took aim. He patiently waited for an opening, then artfully flicked his wrist and struck her. A gorgeous, red welt instantly blossomed in the wake of his lash and he heard the girl cry out something that could have either been a curse or a desperate plea to her gods. The resultant stripe was long and prominent—traversing her skin from left shoulder to right ass cheek—but Lord Arlington was practiced in the use of the whip and was careful to leave only marks that could heal without scarring. He had paid a high price for the girl and had no intention of leaving irreparable damage. Yet the pain had definitely left an impression, for the girl suddenly sagged against her chains and now only her arms were holding her up.

"Stand up straight for me, Kara," Lord Arlington hissed, prodding her midback with the handle of his whip. "I know that you can." And, surprisingly, she stood.

Arlington made the second strike parallel to the first and Kara latched onto the chains above her, desperately trying to steady herself. As she swayed precariously on the balls of her feet, an audible groan escaped from behind her gag and then a low whimper. The next three lashes were given in quick succession in order to prevent her from regrouping, eliciting a mix of surprised and terrified screams. Then Arlington went after her thighs, leaving behind two angry red stripes on each side before returning to her back and throwing a blow perpendicular to his first. And then, he finally heard it—a stifled little sob. If there were tears, he would stop. An involuntary show of defeat would be good enough for their first evening. Listening closely, Lord Arlington paused, but the sniffles were barely audible. It wasn't good enough.

Lord Arlington snapped his whip in the air once more just to frighten the girl and she boiled over. The sobs were much louder now and with a triumphant grin on his face, he moved back in front of his slave so that she could see him. She was obviously distressed, but the shame was far more pronounced. Kara wouldn't look at him and her face was flushed red. There was a big part of her that was appalled by how quickly she'd given in, but Arlington wanted to reinforce the response. To show her that the tears were appropriate, he rolled up his whip away in front of her and set it aside. Then he wiped a single tear from her face and licked it off his finger, intending to horrify the girl just as much as he intended to satisfy his own sadistic cravings and revel in her tears.

"Perfect," Arlington cooed, gently taking her face in his hands. "I think I can safely assume that you'll be more receptive to my inquires in the future." Though it wasn't a question, the girl nodded, and Arlington smiled, thrilled. "But we aren't quite finished yet, my dear. I like my girls decorated, so before I put you away for the evening, we'll have to have your nipples and clit pierced." A fresh wave of terror washed over the girl's face and Arlington decided she'd had enough, but would nevertheless need to learn to submit to his whims, even if they frightened her. "There now, no need to get riled up," Arlington told her, and he kissed her forehead. "It won't be very painful and if you're still, it will be over quickly."

With that, Lord Arlington gently removed the ringlets from around both her nipples, then stepped off to the side and pulled a rolling metal cart into view. It was draped in a thin sheet of plastic and there were a number of odds and ends atop it, including a series of sterile capped needles, a bottle of antiseptic, povidone-iodine swabs, piercing forceps, and a single use pair of nitrile gloves. Settling in front of Kara, Arlington began to prep, being sure to give her a good look at his tools. Once the gloves were on, he wouldn't be able to touch the outside of any packaging, so he carefully opened what he'd need in advance. By then, Kara was getting nervous. He could see the panic rising in her eyes anew, but for now, at least, she didn't protest.

And how long will that last? Arlington wondered, thoroughly wiping down his hands and then putting on the gloves. How long before she loses her calm once more?

But glancing back at Kara, he was surprised to find that the look in her eyes had suddenly shifted and she was watching him more closely than she had before. The fear was still there, but it had been dampened by a more urgent, far more pressing emotion. Arlington instantly recognized it, though it had been a while since he'd experienced such disparaging scrutiny first-hand. She was judging him—him, her lord and master—with those medic's eyes, trying to work out if he knew what he was doing. Her pupils flickered back and forth between his hands and the metal cart and in spite of himself, Arlington could feel a wry smile on his lips. Mentally, it appeared as if she were following him step-by-step through his process.

The girl is checking to make sure I maintain sterile field, Arlington realized, and a bemused sigh escaped his lips. That's not ideal, but as long as I have obedience now, I suppose I can work on developing trust later.

With great care, Arlington first washed the areas he intended to pierce with an antibacterial cleanser, then ran over both her nipples with povidone-iodine. His motions were slow and sensual, designed to refocus her attention on him and him alone. Kara was still watching him with an analytic air, but as he prepped her skin, the fear gradually resurfaced and started to overtake her rational mind. She was losing her grip on the medical musings that had kept her relaxed and now the ground was starting to fall away again. Arlington marked the path of his needle on both nipples and her heart rate picked up speed. But it was as he was clamping the left nipple with his forceps that something finally cracked. Perhaps it was the pain of the procedure or the way his needle shimmered in the light as he uncapped it, but Kara finally lost control of herself. Then she was back in the room with him again, struggling in her chains and trying to make sense of her newfound reality.

"Be still," Lord Arlington ordered, his tone icy. "If you are not still, I can pierce your pussy lips while I'm at it. You'll willingly subject yourself to whatever I demand, do you understand?" And at that, Kara stilled and nodded, her eyes afraid, but complacent—she had decided to accept the ordeal. Good.

With little ceremony, Lord Arlington inserted the needle through her left nipple. The girl cringed as he punctured her skin, then writhed in his grasp as the beveled end made its way through to the other side. Her breathing came in sharp, deep little bursts and she was grabbing so tightly to the chains above her that her knuckles had turned white. Lord Arlington would have loved to fuck her, but the girl was only just starting to soften up to him and an assault of such repulsion would surely awaken new resolve in his little slave. But he didn't mind waiting for Kara, and he had another girl who could take care of him later in the evening. Still standing there in the firelight, he allowed the needle to rest in her nipple for a moment, watching the slow, but deliberate rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed. He flicked the puckered nub gently and heard the girl suck in a breath. Eventually, he returned to the metal cart and decided upon a gold barbell piercing with a tiny red gem on one side and his initials engraved onto the other.

The right nipple was quicker and easier on her. Though afraid, the girl relented to his touch, at least until he kicked a stool in front of her and sat down to work on her clit. Lord Arlington could see her eyes widen in horror as he examined the area and her thighs trembled with effort as she desperately tried to close her legs. To punish the girl for even that small resistance, he decided he would work up her clit before the piercing and only then would he puncture through. He had no intention of piercing the actual organ, of course. Arlington would only be sticking the hood, but she didn't need to know that. Gently, he began to stroke her clit between his fingers and watched as it swelled at his touch, then flushed red from all the attention. Afterwards, he pushed back her skin and began teasing the exposed nub with his tongue, tenderly at first and then far more violently, until she was practically sobbing in protest.

When Lord Arlington was finally done teasing her, he proceeded to replace his gloves and sterilize her skin. He continually massaged her love button as he did so, until she was so sensitive he only needed to blow on the organ to get a rise out of her. Poising the needle vertically against her pretty pink flesh, Arlington thought he could hear the girl cry, "No, please, don't!" But the gag served its purpose well and her pleading didn't move him. After kissing her inner thigh almost tenderly, Lord Arlington firmly gripped the skin around her clitoris and then punched through. The girl writhed under him and he finished his work, replacing the needle with a bent barbell to match her nipple jewelry.

Once done, Lord Arlington simply discarded the gloves, stood up, and walked away. There were no soothing words or gentle reassurances. He merely sat back in his armchair and watched his little acquisition tremble, while silent tears poured down her face. They were done for the night, but Arlington knew better than to introduce her to her cell so soon. After all, allowing the girl to calm herself in solitude would only teach her self-reliance and strengthen her resolve. So instead, Kara would be forced to calm in his presence. Eventually, the adrenaline in her veins would die down and exhaustion would take over. It would be best if she fell asleep immediately afterwards and didn't have time to think through her ordeal. As the sweat beads along her naked form glimmered in the firelight, Arlington poured himself another glass of wine and started in on some overdue paperwork. It could be a while before the slave girl came down from her high of terror and he was a busy man.

As Lord Arlington stood to his feet, Kara winced and closed her eyes tight shut. She was sure he was going to do something else awful to her and braced herself for the inevitable, but nothing happened. For a long while, the only sounds were the crackling of the fireplace and the rhythmic tick, tick, tick of the grandfather clock in the corner. And yet, Kara waited. She waited and waited and waited and when nothing had yet happened, finally opened her eyes. When she did, she saw that Arlington was sitting back in his armchair now, ignoring he completely and pawing through the contents of a silver briefcase. At first, she was relieved to be left alone, but even that small mercy eventually became an ordeal. Gradually, the heat from the fire became unbearable and it was a constant struggle to remain on tiptoe. By the time Arlington finally took her down from the ceiling, her arms felt like they were made from broken glass and her calves were trembling so violently she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to walk again.

Lord Arlington did not talk to her as he released her—first her ankles, then her wrists—but he made sure he had a good grip on her while he did so. Kara was grateful for that. She didn't realize she was on the verge of collapsing until it had already happened and she was being cradled in his arms, then being gently lowered to the floor. The rest was a bit of a blur. Kara could mostly remember sounds and sensations—shuffling in the darkness, the soft give of the carpet, then hands on her body. She could feel his fingers brush against her sex and whimpered, but Lord Arlington was only applying a salve to her new piercings. He unclipped the gold chain from around her waist, then unsheathed his dagger to remove what little remained of her clothes. Thankfully, he was quick about it and the dagger was sheathed again almost immediately.

Afterwards, Lord Arlington blindfolded her—probably so that she wouldn't learn the layout of his manor—then guided her out of the living room. It was slow going as they made their way through long carpeted hallways and up several sets of stairs, traversing a place that seemed much, much too big for one person. Along the way, Kara nearly collapsed again several times, but Lord Arlington always caught her before she hit the floor. He was gentle with her, but she did not confuse the gentleness with kindness. Lord Arlington would be best served by contrasting cruelty with comfort, so that he would be both feared and relied upon. As a medic, she knew that much about human psychology, at least.

When Arlington finally removed Kara's blindfold, she found herself in a comfortable room decorated much like the living space from earlier. It also had a fireplace, bookshelves, a loveseat, and some armchairs, but there were also obvious differences. There was a large television screen taking up the wall above the fireplace, another wooden "X" like the one back at the auction hall, two small metal cages, and a chair in the corner with arm and leg restraints. Then, in the back of the room, Kara saw that there were two narrow hallways, one leading left and the other right.

Almost as if it's its own little apartment, Kara thought. Interesting...

Placing a hand on each shoulder, Arlington carefully guided her down the rightmost hallway—it wasn't too terribly long—and finally, into a second room...a room that looked like a torture chamber. Immediately, Kara tried to bolt. There was a bondage table with an adjustable back and a wooden cabinet of sinister-looking instruments. Then there were chains dangling from the ceiling and a wall lined with whips, floggers, and canes. In that moment, Kara was certain that Arlington hadn't finished with her yet and fight or flight kicked in at full force. Turning on her heel, she slammed all her weight against his frame and tried to fight her way back into the first room, but he held her tightly. Her arms were expertly pinned to her sides, and then she found herself pressed against his chest in a near-suffocating embrace.

"Shhh, pet...relax," Arlington soothed, trying to calm her down, but still she struggled. "That was an order, pet. Relax. We're done for tonight. I intend to put you away, that's all."

Kara wasn't convinced, but true to his word, Arlington guided her past the bondage furniture and finally set her down beside what appeared to be...a bank vault? The door was shiny and metallic and utterly huge, with a coded lock that was bulky and intimidating. It looked like the sort of lock that would house a monster, and Kara's heart began to race again as Arlington punched in his code. But inside, there was only a rather unimpressive little cell. It had four brownstone walls and a grate at the center—probably for waste—but other than that, it was completely bare. No pillows, no blankets. Not even chains. Carefully lifting her to her feet, Arlington pushed Kara inside and when she looked up at him, he was nothing but a dark silhouette in the doorway.

"This cell is just temporary, of course," Lord Arlington told her. "Once you learn proper subservience to me, you'll be given basic comforts and perhaps, one day, you'll be allowed a room with a window." And with a loud bang, the door was shut and locked.

In the near-unbearable silence that followed, there was nothing but blackness. Kara had hoped her eyes would adjust, but the reality was that there wasn't any light for them to adjust to. The door was sealed all along its edges and there weren't any lamps or windows. But Kara wasn't ready to fall into despair just yet and resolved to explore her surroundings as best she could.

Even though she still wore ankle and wrist cuffs, Kara was grateful that they weren't attached to anything and she could freely move her arms and legs. First things first, she decided to try and remove the gag. It was a terrible, ugly thing and her jaw ached from biting into it all evening, but there was some sort of locking mechanism at the back and she couldn't get it off. Next on the agenda was a thorough investigation of her cell. Kara couldn't see, but she could feel and found that the stone was warm, probably heated from below. She was honestly grateful for that too, given her nakedness. Crawling along the perimeter of her cell, she tried to work out its dimensions and discovered that it was roughly five feet wide by seven feet long. When she stood up, she could not reach the ceiling and this gave her room to stretch her muscles a bit.

But on some level, Kara knew that her curiosity was mostly a distraction for the sadness welling up inside of her. Though she tried to keep it at bay for as long as possible, her efforts were eventually exhausted and she found herself sobbing hideously into the gag. The more Kara cried, the angrier she became, until she was pounding her fists on the floor in a fury. Her sobs turned to screams and though muffled, they echoed ominously off all four walls of her little cell.