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ENCOUNTER WITH DESTINY
CHAPTER 11
By slave ruthie
He looked so handsome, lying there like that with the duvet turned down to expose his muscular chest. Alexa stood in the bathroom doorway for several minutes and just watched him sleeping. That man is my master, she thought, and the thought brought a smile to her lips. It was early - not quite dawn but she couldn't go back to sleep again. Alexa's mind was still reeling with the previous day's events. She had never endured such dreadful pain as Marek had inflicted with all the electric shocks and that thin whip. He seemed to have a talent for hurting a girl in her most sensitive places - as though his skills were honed by hours of practice. She should hate and fear him - she certainly feared Marek but hate? No, she didn't hate him. It was odd but there was something likeable about her master's son, despite his sadism. She padded across the room to the curtains, carefully lifting the chain attached to her ankle to stop it tinkling on the polished floor. There was a faint glow in the sky but too much cloud to see the sunrise. The ornamental gardens looked very pretty, even though it was a cold, gray November morning (or was it already December - Alexa couldn't be sure).
Something streaked across the lawn into the bushes far below the apartment window. It looked like a longhaired creature - was it the fox she had seen before? And a large, black dog with a spiked collar was hotly pursuing it. Alexa gasped, fearing for the poor animal as the larger guard dog cornered it out of sight under a tall hedge. It was impossible to hear what was happening but the foliage gave a tremendous shake then went still. Ohh the poor fox, she thought with dismay...then gasped when the smaller brown creature slowly emerged and trotted off at a leisurely pace, turning back to look at the hedge as if in disdain. As it resumed its casual walk, the animal paused to stare directly up at her window for a moment before sauntering away out of sight.
A shiver ran through Alexa's spine and an unbidden memory came into her mind. Old Mrs Khindria, the widowed lady from Bangladesh who had helped in Mr Warren's general store, had given her a tiny silver pendant to wear for 'protection against evil'. Alexa remembered her exact words - words that had puzzled her then and now. Mrs Khindria had whispered "guardian spirits are not always angels, my girl". Strangely, she HAD felt safer wearing the little amulet. It had been like the figure of a dancer but she had four arms instead of two.
Where had the locket gone? She hadn't been given any of her clothes or possessions back and had no idea whether she would ever see them again. It was as though her old life in London had been wiped out, erased, just...gone. Again, the chill ran up her back and she felt terribly afraid and alone. The faint tinkle of chain on wood brought her back to the room and reminded her she was no longer on her own, adrift without purpose or a...a home. Her master stirred, Alexa stifled a cry with her fist and crept closer until she was kneeling by the bed. Strong fingers twined in her hair - not tight enough to hurt but firmly enough to control. "You're an early bird, slave - I like that." He smiled but did not release his grip. "Best part of the day for all sort of reasons." He grinned and threw back the duvet with his free hand. "I'm a bit of an 'early riser' myself, my pretty little slave." He patted the mattress. "In you climb!" Then he pulled Alexa onto the bed and guided her until she was straddling him. She could feel him getting harder between her thighs. Her hand slid down to touch his stiff penis. "Good slave - let's see how your muscle control is coming along. I want you to milk me with your cunt." Alexa guided his erection with her fingers until the tip of his member was nudging her glistening labia apart. She gasped then bit her lower lip as she slowly lowered herself onto his thick shaft. Her master smiled and placed his strong hands on her trembling thighs. "Tighten on me and lift up until I'm just inside you then relax and settle right down as far as you can go...that's it! Again, slower to start with. Ahhhh - good little slave...slower - yes!"
Alexa was grateful that Marek had used a pressure-sensing dildo during her training. He'd locked her wrists at the ends of a metal pole that stuck out at either side of a heavy collar and forced her to stand upright by a winch chain at the back of her neck. Then her ankles were secured apart by another long pole. Marek had wheeled over a small device that was like a robot arm with a penis-shaped attachment on the end. He'd explained that it would measure how strongly she was able to squeeze against the dildo with her pelvic floor and vaginal muscles. If she didn't try hard enough, it would punish her with an electric shock. At first, Alexa hadn't understood what he was talking about and couldn't exert any pressure on the dildo. Shrieking in pain as successive shocks jolted inside her vagina, she had begged him to tell her what to do. "Try not to pee," he had shouted over her horrified cries. "Pretend you're trying to stop peeing, slave." Eventually, through tears and howls of agony, she had managed to exert enough pressure to stop the shocks. Her eyes wide at this revelation about her body, she looked up and saw him smiling at her for the first time. "So that's two things you've learned tonight, little slave - how to swim and how to use your cunt properly."
Alexa continued to apply the deep clenching of her inner muscles every time she lifted her body up before relaxing and sliding down to impale herself on her master's throbbing cock. He seemed to like it; in fact he liked it very much and eventually held her down as he shot his cum into the top of her vagina. "Yessssss...you're a damn good fuck, little slave - well done." His praise was enough to send her over the edge into a mild, fluttery sort of orgasm - not like her usual hard, devastating climax but still very nice. He pulled her down to lie on his chest, still inside her and began to kiss her on the mouth. "Look at me, Alexa. Did you just cum?" He noted how red and pouting her lips had become and the glint in her eyes.
"I...uhh, umm y-yes m-master. It...I m-mean I...s-sorry." Was she in trouble again?
"You climaxed at the sound of my voice? Is that what made you have an orgasm?" The girl nodded and peered anxiously at him. "That's...very interesting." He had heard claims about this sort of thing from other masters but didn't believe it was anything more than typical male bravado and fantasies. Only now he knew different! "Tell me, my little slave," he tried not to smile too broadly - and failed. "Are all Brit girls as horny as you?"
Alexa laughed and felt a wave of joy rush through her body. "Ohh master - I, uhhh, I don't know!" He pulled her down, kissed her until she gasped for air then flipped her over.
"Then let's see if I can make you cum like that again."
*****
Marek stared down at the red-gold thread on his palm and sighed. He needed to sleep so badly but had been working throughout the night to supervise the forensic examination of the dead general's suite. Going through the African's belongings had been a disgusting experience. And Marek had witnessed - and participated in - plenty of activities that would turn the average person's stomach. There was a home movie in the video player, obviously filmed while the general exacted his own brand of retribution on the deposed president of _______ and his family. He had started with the infants, progressing up through the older children until he had violated and cruelly killed every person before the president's forced-open eyes. Marek shuddered as he remembered how the general had slipped in the blood of his victims, laughing and dancing as he waved around the machete that he had just used to rape and disembowel the president's teenage daughter. If anyone deserved retribution, the general would certainly come high on the list...and his own violent death was no loss to humanity. And to think he had even shaken the man's hand!
Marek leaned against the corridor wall to gather his thoughts. All of the slaves in the chateau had been accounted for and none had been summoned to the general's apartment except for quiet, shy Véronique - there was no way she could have murdered the man in such a bloody fashion without drenching herself in his blood. The idea that the lissome young slave could wield enough strength to dismember a powerfully built man with her bare hands was too preposterous - there HAD to be a sane explanation. He hadn't troubled his father with the gory details of what had occurred but knew is was only a matter of time before the incident became common knowledge. He would explain it later. For now, let his father take pleasure in the new slave...
...Ahh, Alexa - what a surprise she had been! Marek recalled how the girl's expression had changed from anguished despair to grim determination to succeed when he shouted at her to swim for her life. Her frantic thrashing about as she fought to keep her head above water had been replaced by a clumsy but effective paddle and her look of amazement as she reached the other side of the pool was delightful. What a little fighter - she had pushed herself beyond her limits in her efforts to survive and to please him. Pity about her looks - she was too plain and small for Marek's tastes but she would certainly make an excellent slave and his father seemed to be delighted with the girl!
Marek wondered when his father would finally tell him about the obvious problem with his health. He looked thinner and somehow sadder - until this business of the new slave from London. It was as though his father had found a new energy, a new purpose in owning a fresh (but highly unconventional) personal slave. But why the rush to train her - why the urgency? He was disturbed in his reverie by a piteous moan. The guards must have been preparing Véronique for questioning. Marek wandered into the punishment room and nodded at the guard who was applying a final electrode to the girl's bare sole. "When do you finish your shift, Pierre?"
The other man shrugged and concentrated on taping the metal strip firmly to the underside of the slave's trembling foot. "I was supposed to finish last night - we had tickets for the Ajax match but I don't suppose we'll make it now."
Marek tossed a bunch of keys to the man. "Take my Mercedes - if you leave in less than an hour you could do it. I'll take over here." As the guard stood to leave, Marek cautioned him. "Ohh and Pierre?"
"Oui?"
"100 euros says it's a draw, d'accord?" The man laughed and shook his head, leaving Marek alone with the writhing Véronique. She had been firmly strapped to the garroting chair. "So, pétite Véronique...the slave who watches me when she thinks I do not see." The girl moaned and tried to ease the shocks tingling through her belly by straining against her leather bonds. He carefully assessed her before deciding how to proceed. Véronique was securely buckled into a large, high backed armchair made from heavy, dark wood. She couldn't touch the ground with her toes and her legs were forced apart. The center section of the chair seat had been removed so the long probes into her vagina and rectum could be easily adjusted. Marek knew from her agitated twisting and pulling against the many straps pinning her to the rigid frame that the electrodes had been set to low pulsing and with each flinch of pain her anxiety would be rising. "Your eye is bruised, not damaged - you will not lose your sight but the bandage must stay to help it recover. You WILL be beautiful again, pétite Véronique...if you survive my questions, of course."
He rested his hand on the lever that controlled the garrote strap around her throat. "Have you ever seen a slave put to death in this chair?" He began to pull the lever slowly down, causing the girl to raise her head in a desperate attempt to relieve the squeezing of her neck. "Oh, you have - the kitchen slave who stole the food. Let me think...Enrica, wasn't it?" He watched her stiffen, splaying out her fingers as she wheezed and coughed but still made no attempt to beg for her life. "Not a pretty sight, even with a slave hood covering her face, was she? She took such a long time to die...such a pity, n'est pas?" He slackened off the garrote and waited while Véronique gasped in urgent breaths. "Still nothing to say?"
"Uhh, monsieur Marek je vous mmmmmmmmm..." His mouth stifled her words as he kissed her, forcing his tongue past her lips. Véronique's uncovered eye widened in shocked confusion, the nagging pain between in her pussy and backside briefly forgotten. "M-monsieur ohh je suis..." He silenced her again with a prolonged embrace and this time his hand cupped her left breast, making her heart race.
"Did you honestly believe I never noticed how you always rushed to serve me first in the staff quarters?" Marek gently stroked the girl's long hair. "Why do you think you are still wearing my tag?" He tugged at the identity tape looped around her plain collar. "You will serve me properly later, ma pétite esclave...after you have told me EVERYTHING about the général and last night." Véronique opened her lips, eager to speak but he thrust a ball gag into her mouth and buckled it tightly behind her head. "No, no - not yet. First you need to learn WHY you will be obedient and will miss NOTHING out when you are finally permitted to talk."
All she could do was squeak and watch in terror as Marek swung the control panel closer. He connected the flexible electric probe to the unit and held it close to the metal surface. A tiny, blue spark jumped across the gap, in turn also making the helpless girl jump in fright. "Now, the dildoes in your crotch are set at the very lowest power. Let's see how much further they can go..."
"NNNNNNNNNN!!!! P-PLLLLLLLLLSSSSSS!!!! URRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" He briefly twisted the dials to maximum then reduced the current to 10%. Véronique thrashed wildly in the chair as her tender regions briefly burned with deep, searing pain.
He gently stroked her tear-streaked cheek. "Ahh, pétite Véronique - you think I did not see how jealous you looked when I fed master Stephen's new toy in the canteen? You wished it was you being fed, n'est pas?" The trembling girl pressed against his fingers and closed her good eye in shame. He lightly tapped the end of her nose. "Again, you forget I have placed my tag around your collar, slave. It will remain permanently attached and you shall serve only me unless a master requires you, of course."
That got her attention - it was the closest a house slave could get to being a personal slave! "Mmmmkkkk!!! Plssssss...ethhhsssss!" Véronique twisted and desperately tried to rub her head against his hand but he picked up the long electrode and moved it towards her ringed nipple. "UUUUUURRRRGGGHHH!!!" The savage jolt threw her back in the garrote chair. Marek shushed her then moved the tip nearer her other pierced breast. "AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!"
"Did you know that a female under torture can stand much higher pain than a man? It makes a girl more difficult to break - too little makes her stubborn...too much and she dies of shock." The slave squealed frantically as he lowered the probe closer to her abdomen. "The trick is...in knowing...the most sensitive points on a female." He let the tip spark across to her belly piercing. The effect was immediate, as though she had been punched hard in the stomach. "You see, the female sexual organs...while they are highly sensitive and very enjoyable to torture..." He slowly lifted the pointed metal tip higher, letting the spark jump to her skin for a fraction of a second. "...are designed to take a lot of pain...no, there are other places such as..." He seized hold of her hair, forcing her head back, touched the electric probe to the ring though her septum and held it there while she screamed in agony.
Véronique's harsh lessons continued while Marek cruelly taught her all the parts of her body that were the most vulnerable to pain. Her shrieks and wails of anguish finally took their toll when he employed the probe on the last location. "Actually," he murmured, "I misled you for there is ONE small part of the female sexual organs that can be EXTREMELY sensitive to torture." Véronique shook her head in horror; Marek smiled and lowered the probe...
*****
Was it so obvious? Everybody they passed kept smiling at her! As she followed the guard back to her master's apartments while carefully balancing the breakfast tray, Alexa felt as though her cheeks were burning. Her cries of ecstasy under her wonderful master's expert hands, lips, tongue and...and his cock (stop grinning, girl!) must have been heard throughout the chateau! There was still a twitch in her left thigh muscle and she knew she was walking with a kind of swinging motion, acutely aware of her sensual feminine body. Master Stephen smiled as she entered behind the guard. "Good girl - did you make the espresso yourself?"
"Y-yes m-master." Was it good enough? Would he like...
"Excellent! A damn good coffee AND a damn good fuck too - what more can a master possibly need from his slave!" Her face flushed with a peculiar mix of pride and embarrassment. The departing guard chuckled and suggested 'perhaps two cups, monsieur?' before closing the double doors. Master Stephen made a tiny movement with his fingers prompting Alexa to immediately adopt the 'wait and display' position that Marek had drilled into her consciousness. "No lessons today, my little slave. Marek has other matters to deal with and I have no need of you until later. However, you are to see master Arnaud this morning. Remember him?" A nod but no sound with her eyes respectfully lowered was all her required to continue. "Master Arnaud will take over as your owner 'pro tem', slave." Alexa felt a tear trickle down her cheek - he was getting rid of her already! "It is a formality that some masters think has no real purpose...I happen to disagree and personally sponsored Nadine, master Arnaud's current slave. He has kindly returned the favor." The fact that she was openly staring up at him in confusion, her posture forgotten, made him smile for a moment. "POSITION, slave! THAT's better."
Alexa listened carefully while her master explained what was to happen. She had yet to be formally recognized as his property and it had become a tradition in the Organization for a new personal slave to be 'sponsored' by another master, to ensure she was fit to be collared. As he spoke, Alexa realized it was like the old idea of a bride being 'given away' - that she was a commodity whose ownership was being transferred. It should have been repellent but had the opposite effect. Alexa suddenly felt that she had value and that she was truly worth something! He noticed how her initial look of fear and uncertainty had been replaced by a broad, open-mouthed smile of sheer joy but chose not to comment and moved on. "So you will attend master Arnaud and obey him as though his commands have come from my own lips." She beamed up at him with a smile fit to burst. "Oh for GOD'S sake, slave, why do you look so damn happy? Are your psych meds too high?" But he couldn't help grinning too.
*****
A newly showered Alexa trotted obediently behind the guard who was to take her to her temporary master. She made sure her leash chain was slack enough to avoid being tugged along but it meant her feet were almost skipping between the short hobble chain connecting her ankle cuffs. And she DID feel like skipping, she felt like dancing with joy - despite the fact that, as usual, her hands dangled uselessly halfway up her back in heavy cuffs. Instead of the ball, there was a strap over her mouth, securing a penis-shaped gag in her mouth. She sucked on it to stop herself from drooling then sucked on it again with relish and thought about wonderful, sensual, skilful master Stephen. Alexa felt so lucky - here she was naked, fettered and being led like an animal through a strange building in a foreign country. But despite the chains, the punishments, and the total disregard for her freedom she realized she had never felt such contentment and security in her whole life. It was so odd, so very confusing.
*****
..."Non, ma chère esclave - you do not escape me by dying...not yet, not yet." He eased the slumped form of the girl off the garrote chair and placed her in the recovery position on the ground, again checking that her airway was now clear. Marek looked down at Véronique: her face bruised, one eye covered by a stained bandage, hair soaked in perspiration, body peppered by tiny red marks where the electric probe had touched her skin; not a pretty picture but she would do him fine. Ahh, my sweet Véronique, he mused, if I had a master's ring you would wear my collar and my brand would be burned into the flesh above your cunt. But he was daydreaming again and could only hope to earn his master hood by merit alone. Marek had neither sufficient power nor money to be invited to join one of the most exclusive clubs in the so-called 'civilized' world. No, the only way he could earn a master's ring would be by proving himself within the ranks, just like Charles. He had warmed to master Charles at their first encounter when they were jointly selecting new slaves through a bogus international modeling agency. The naive east European girls had foolishly thought they were auditioning for a career on the catwalk - while they were certainly being chosen for their looks, their future contracts were more secure than they could possibly imagine!
Marek watched Véronique stir and knew she would be too weak to even crawl to the shower room. With a sigh, he knelt down and scooped her up. She came to while he carried her in his arms and her immediate reaction surprised and puzzled him - why was the girl clinging and nuzzling him so tightly while she sobbed? "Hush, slave - its all over. Let's get you cleaned up then you can tell me all about the Général in my room. And I will show you how a good slave is rewarded for her efforts - would you like that? Oui?" Véronique buried her face in his neck and whispered that she would like that very, very much. Her emotional attachment to him evidently went much farther than the usual distorted intimacy expected between a victim and her torturer. Ahhh, l'amore! This slave was truly in love with him! Although the notion was gratifying to his male pride, Marek still felt unable to comprehend why a girl such as Véronique could be so attracted by harsh discipline and firm control - he would have to ask master Arnaud, in his capacity as the Organization's consultant psychiatrist, to explain the peculiar inner workings of a slave's mind. Dominance was something he understood very well but Submission remained a sweet and utter mystery to him.
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