tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Rebellious Slave Ch. 10

The Rebellious Slave Ch. 10


Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support, comments, and positive ratings! I am so psyched that the story has been well received and that many are enjoying it! Please, if you feel strongly about something, such as a plot hole that needs fixing, a grammar issue that needs to be addressed, or a scene you'd like to see, let me know. The comments keep me going and help me improve my writing!



Kara stood in the darkness of her new bedroom, pacing anxiously back and forth. The overhead lights had flickered off hours ago, and although Kara knew a good night's sleep would be imperative, she was too restless to keep her eyes closed. The emotions rolling through her gut were relentless, inspired by hundreds of nagging thoughts which refused to leave her in peace. Without any warning, strange and terrible ideas pushed their way to the forefront of Kara's mind, all vying for her undivided attention, all getting in each others' way.

With the cacophony of noise in her head, Kara found it impossible to fall away into dreamland, and eventually gave up. There were just too many thoughts to consider! Too many powerful feelings, all seemingly in conflict!

On one side of the emotional spectrum, Kara found herself brimming with an awkward sort of happiness. A few hours ago, Kara had been resigned to a life of eternal captivity as Lord Arlington's dedicated trophy slave. But now, things were different. Now, Kara had a chance at escape. And even if it wasn't the best chance in the world, it was good enough to inspire hope in Kara, enabling her to ward off the darkness instilled by Lord Arlington and his hateful mind games.

Then, there was the ordeal with Uncle Florence to consider. Kara was once certain that he had been captured by Lady Charlotte. And, worse still, she had been certain that the capture was entirely her fault. But now, knowing otherwise, Kara felt relief envelope her, sweet and succulent, a soothing salve for the sore ache in her wounded heart. The gratefulness she felt was very nearly overwhelming, and though it was a pleasurable sensation, it also made her strangely nauseous.

But alas, not all of Kara's thoughts could be good ones. Not all of Kara's feelings could be warm and happy. Deep within her gut, she could feel a darkness growing, which threatened to rip away her new found hope in order to dash it against the rocks. The darkness was cruel and cold, and Kara tried desperately to push it out of her mind and focus on more welcoming fantasies of escape and then revenge. But every so often, as if in a subconscious haze, Kara would stop her pacing and feel the cold leather collar locked around her neck. As she traced the loop at the front of her collar, the awful darkness would begin to rise again in Kara, like bile in her throat. And from there, she would start to slip away from herself, into the mind of the helpless creature who had let Arlington use her for a foot stool. That poor creature, though inspired by the prospect of escape, was more terrified of Arlington than ever before, now that she had experienced first hand the power of his mental manipulation and the dominance he was able to wield over her. That Kara, the one from the previous night, wondered what on earth Arlington would manage to do with her in the days leading up to her attempted escape.

What if he did decide to force sex upon her? What would he do to her when she resisted, repulsed by his disturbing demeanor? Would she be able to fake compliance? Wouldn't he see right through her, to the plan within? And when he did, how might he elicit total subservience? Kara momentarily contemplated each and every one of her worst fears, trying to deduce which ones Arlington had discovered and which ones still remained hidden. And Kara, distraught, tried to shut the horrible images out of her mind, but they refused to loosen their grip on her conflicted heart.

Worse still, Kara could feel one particularly greedy thought draw its tendrils over her mind, ensnaring the entirety of her being. The thought twisted and turned in her brain, making her stomach churn and her body break out in a cold sweat. Mocking her, the thought told Kara that her escape plan was mere fantasy, a pleasant indulgence of the imagination, but nothing more. Cruel and unrelenting, it explained the absurdities of the plan to Kara, trying its best to rip what little sanity she had out of her grasp, leaving her with nothing but the darkness of the room. Standing in her bedroom, the air quiet, Kara thought back to her time with Greenwood and remembered their final exchange, her heart growing cold.

"Nardia's offer, by the way, won't be long standing," Greenwood had told her. "I don't know the reason for the rush, but they will only exchange an escape for information on the Parallel Project if it can be obtained within the next five days. And since the next board meeting is in three days, and it is the only chance we'll have to meet together, you'll have a mere 72hrs to hold up your end of the deal."

It wasn't enough time, Kara thought, wringing the cloth of her nightgown in her hands. Three days just weren't enough. And who was to say that Arlington would leave Kara in his office, unsupervised? And what if he didn't keep information on the Parallel Project in his home office, which seemed very likely? And how would she find such information, even if it was there?

And what if she were caught in the act? What would Arlington do to Kara then?

Eventually, the emotions inside of Kara became so tangled and chaotic that she could no longer distinguish between them and could feel nothing but the steady thrumming of adrenaline in her veins. And as the hormones wracked her body, Kara finally felt exhaustion take over, pushing her into a deep sleep of wonderful dreams and equally horrible nightmares.

It seemed only a short while later that a loud, obnoxious beeping rang in Kara's ears and she nearly fell face first from the bed and onto the floor, her entire being still on edge. Bewildered, Kara noticed a circular, metal protrusion in the ceiling which flashed red and continued to beep annoyingly above her. Kara mused that it must be an alarm clock, designed to wake her at the appropriate hour. And, as if to confirm her suspicions, the lights embedded in the bedroom's ceiling flickered and then turned on. Kara looked back up at the metal protrusion above her, which had halted its whining, and wondered if their were small cameras inside, watching her. That seemed very likely. Surely, the protrusion wasn't just an alarm clock.

As she slipped from her bed covers and into the morning chill, Kara took a deep breath, bracing herself for the days ahead. Trying to dispel the sickening knots in her gut, Kara reminded herself that fake subservience and true submission were nothing alike. There would be no shame, Kara told herself, in submitting to Arlington and his humiliating demands for the sake of her future freedom. And, furthermore, nothing Arlington forced upon her could be worse than an eternity of slavery. Whatever Arlington demanded of her, Kara would have to obey, but in the end, it would all be worth it. If Kara could just hold onto to these realizations for the next 72 hours, she could endure whatever Lord Arlington had in store.

But within the depths of Kara's heart, another thought was taunting her. For Kara knew that her escape was not guaranteed and, in fact, seemed very unlikely. That realization alone made Arlington seem all the more threatening, even given Kara's new found hope. And still, though Kara knew Arlington to be a liar and a cheat, she recognized that his conditioning was starting to have an affect on her mind. Kara simply couldn't help that, no matter how hard she tried. The human psyche was vulnerable, and after all the violence Kara had endured at Arlington's hands, she knew that an involuntary fear and the accompanying desire to obey, for the sake of avoiding punishment, existed within her. It did not matter if, on a purely conscious level, she could resist and despise Arlington. On a subconscious level, quite outside of Kara's control, Arlington had begun to taint her, making obedience seem the best means for survival. Luckily for Kara, subservience was the key to success at the moment, and Arlington's conditioning could probably be used to her advantage.

Not long after the alarm had gone off, Mister Karp arrived to take Kara for a warm bath. While lathering up her body in the sweet smelling water, Kara once more heard the giggling of girls in a nearby room, and felt her heart overwhelmed with strange emotion. What she wouldn't do for a single friend, as single female counterpart to listen to her vent and to hold her tightly. But Kara knew her thoughts were mere fantasy, and decided not to indulge them further. After the bath, for which Kara was very grateful, she was taken to have her hair and make-up done, and was afterwards dressed in a skimpy, yellow dress with a matching collar and cuffs. Only then was she taken back to her bedroom and given a rather luxurious breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Kara, delighted that she would be able to feed herself, let the small triumph warm her heart and quickly gobbled up the meal. And then, when she was finished, Mister Karp set an thin, orange volume on the desk.

"My lord is too busy to tend to you today," he told Kara, furrowing his eyes at her. "So you will remain in here until evening. But his lordship has instructed me to give you this." And Mister Karp gestured at the orange booklet.

Kara felt an odd twinge ripple through her at Mister Karp's words. On the one hand, she was relieved to discover that she'd be free of Arlington for a full day. On the other hand, Kara was somewhat distraught by the situation, and cursed silently to herself. If Arlington kept her locked away, she would lose valuable opportunities to gather information on the Parallel Project. And given the immense time constraints imposed on Kara and her task, any time confined to her room was significant enough to dampen her spirits. But once Mister Karp had left the room, Kara curiously approached the bound volume. There was a bright, blue post-it stuck to the front cover, and then some writing. "Chapters 3-5," the post-it read. "Practice, practice, practice..."

Carefully, Kara peeled away the post-it note, enabling her to read the volume's title: The Proper Slave's Instruction Manual. Her face twitching in disgust, Kara almost hurled the damned thing across the room, before remembering that she was most likely being watched and therefore, even in the comfort of her own bedroom, couldn't risk too strong a show of rebellion. Swallowing her fury, Kara opened to the first book marked page, which read "Chapter Three: Basic Manners."

As Kara skimmed through the chapter, she realized that she already knew several of the proper mannerisms to which she was supposed to adhere. The manual told her that she ought to always sit by her master's left side, that it was rude to look around in front of company, that she should always walk a few paces behind her master when taken outside, and that a crawling slave ought to have her eyes cast downward. There wasn't any need for Kara to review the chapter further. She'd already been taught all the rules it described.

Cringing at several crude illustrations, Kara skipped ahead to the next chapter, entitled "Basic Command Set." The first command listed was "heel." The instruction manual told Kara that, upon hearing the command, she should get down on her hands and knees, crawl to her master's left side, and continue to crawl beside him until told otherwise. Kara's eyes burned ferociously in her skull, but she forced herself to turn to the next command: down. Upon hearing this command, a slave was supposed to get onto her knees, touch her forehead to the floor, reach her arms out in front of her, and stick her ass slightly up in the air. And with that, even knowing that there were cameras above her, Kara slammed the book shut and paced the room restlessly, cursing the entire time. She didn't want to be trained like a pure bred dog, to "heel" and to position herself "down."

Thinking darkly, Kara wondered if the volume had commands for "roll over" and "speak." Turning back to the book, she found both commands and laughed cynically. The command "roll over" was modified slightly from what might be expected of a dog. Upon hearing this command, Kara was supposed to roll onto her back if she were already on her stomach, or onto her stomach if she were currently lying on her back. If told to "speak," Kara was supposed to blurt out the first thing that came to mind, enabling her master to correct her for improper thoughts. There were even instructions on how to properly follow the command "Strip."

Kara, the disgust in her gut becoming more pronounced, noticed that there were step-by-step illustrations of a slave girl properly stripping, in order to visually reinforce correct form. The slave girl took off her clothes carefully, and in a very specific order. First, she slipped off her dress, allowing it to gather around her feet. Then, she stepped backwards out of the dress. The manual warned Kara never step out of her clothes by moving forwards, and she rolled her eyes. Surely, getting naked wasn't fucking rocket science. She didn't need a god damned instruction manual.

But she continued looking over the illustrations anyway, observing that the slave girl depicted always removed her bra before her panties and always by undoing the clasp. Apparently, it was rude to lift a bra over one's head. And when the panties finally did come off, all clothes were gently folded and set aside. Kara made a revolted face at the manual. The artist had given his illustration an unrealistic, overly enthusiastic smile. The poor girl looked as if getting naked were her most favorite thing to do in all the world.

Staring into the illustrated slave girl's happy eyes, Kara realized that she couldn't take anymore, and closed the manual. Leaning forward in her chair, she ran her hands through her hair in exasperation and sighed deeply. She didn't want to practice the ridiculous slave positions, but knew Lord Arlington would eventually test her, perhaps even that evening. Furthermore, if Kara wanted to gain Lord Arlington's trust, she would need to be prepared for his commands.

Suddenly, as she sat in her chair, a thought occurred to Kara. Perhaps the instruction manual was Lord Arlington's way of testing the extent of her obedience. Lord Arlington recognized that Kara would be obedient in his presence, but the degrading homework assignment would test for obedience in his absence. Kara, anticipation flowing through her, realized that this was the perfect opportunity to gain some ground on her plan. If she did well, Arlington would think her obedient even when alone, and may be more willing to leave her by herself in his office. Still feeling a bit nauseous about the whole thing, but determined to stick to her plan, Kara got onto her knees and practiced "down." It was going to be a long day.

There were roughly twenty-two commands that Kara had to learn. The most simplistic of them were described in "Chapter Four: Basic Command Set," which covered commands like "Present," "Kneel," and "Turn About." But some of the commands in "Chapter Five: Advanced Command Set" were surprisingly tricky. Kara had a particularly hard time with the command "Fall," by which a master could reinforce proper form when a slave begged. Kara was supposed to fall forward onto her knees from a standing position, then allow her torso to fall forward, using the flat of her forearms as a protective barrier between her face and the floor. The manual emphasized that Kara actually had to fall, to let gravity pull her towards the floor, and that to move downward using her own muscle control was wrong. The trick was to fall in segments---knees first, then torso---so as to reduce the impact with which one hit the floor. In the process of practicing, Kara knew she'd acquired a new bruise or two, but doubted Arlington would mind.

In the afternoon, Mister Karp brought Kara her lunch and she ate it gratefully. Little things, like being able to gulp down a beverage, felt like victories. And although she still found the instruction booklet and its obnoxious drawings humiliating, Kara felt as though her spirits had been lifted. True, she had spent the day practicing degrading commands, but at least she was doing so for her own sake rather than because she feared Arlington. And when Kara felt that she had properly memorized all of the commands assigned to her, she decided to take a nap, in order to make up for the sleep she'd lost earlier that evening.

When night finally came, Kara found herself being rudely awakened by Mister Karp, who violently shook her until she opened her eyes. And, still in a sleep induced haze, Kara was soon led down a series of hallways and into Lord Arlington's living space, where a fire was already warming the room. Upon seeing Lord Arlington, the sleep suddenly lifted from Kara's foggy mind and she stiffened. It was strangely embarrassing and somewhat terrifying, to feel the rebellion from earlier suddenly soften in his presence.

How was that possible? Kara wondered. And what was wrong with her? How could Arlington have such a sinister effect on her persona, even when she knew all about his earlier bluff? He was a blatant liar, and a scoundrel! Half of what he told her was probably untrue! So why did Kara still feel herself melting in his presence? How was he still able to intimidate her, in spite the indignation boiling beneath her breast? Had his progressive conditioning really had such an effect?

Looking into the room, Kara saw that Lord Arlington was sitting back in the love seat, wearing nothing but a white dress shirt and dark pants, drinking a glass of wine. Kara found his very figure intimidating, his features dark even with the light of the fireplace flickering over them. And, though she tried, she could not conceal the trembling of her body, even from herself. As Kara stood on the threshold of the room, she could feel herself drifting backward, transforming into the pitiful girl who had allowed Arlington to use her for a foot stool.

But Kara had a new found hope brimming inside of her, and quickly steeled herself against the onslaught of fear that began to coil in her gut, begging her to assume a subservient nature. Kara would not allow Arlington to do this to her; she would not allow Arlington's conditioning to reclaim her. She had to retain the core of herself in spite of his mind tricks, which had wormed their way into Kara's subconscious, slowly breaking her down. She knew that she could withstand a few more days of Arlington's trickery! She could, and she would!

Gripping tightly onto the hope inside of her, Kara pushed the darkness in her mind away, and reminded herself that she was her own woman. As Arlington motioned for his man to enter, Kara focused her mind on the pride that had allowed her to make it this far. And as Mister Karp pushed Kara before the love seat, leaving her alone with Lord Arlington, she reminded herself once more that fake subservience and true submission were nothing alike. There would be no shame, Kara told herself, in being obedient for her own sake. And if she played the part of the dedicated slave for just a little while longer, so as not to impede her own plan of escape, she could be free once more.

Just three days, Kara told herself earnestly, her eyes burrowing into the floor. Just follow his rules for three more days and you can go to Nardia, and be reunited with your family, and get insanely drunk. Just three more days, Kara. Just three measly days...

"Strip," Arlington commanded, and Kara froze, all thoughts of self assurance fleeing her consciousness. For a moment, Kara wasn't sure she understood the command and, in near panic, frantically searched her blank mind for the instructions she'd painstakingly memorized that afternoon. From the fog of her memory, Kara finally recalled the illustrated slave girl from the instruction manual, who had carefully slipped off her dress when issued the same command. And Kara, her fingers trembling, brought her hands to the front of her dress and to the row of buttons that trailed from the cuff of her neck to just below the waist. She first undid one button, then another, watching as the tops of her breasts became visible in the firelight. And then, she stopped. She couldn't do this...she just couldn't....

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byHisPet21© 46 comments/ 115038 views/ 59 favorites

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