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Last Time
I carefully descended the stone steps to the cellar, I unlocked the heavy oak dungeon door with a heavy heart and paused to admire her one last time, she knew something was wrong immediately, I suppose it was intuition.
She peered through the bars of her metal cage, a five foot cube with inch and a quarter bars at three inch spacing, she was naked apart from her collar, and she looked at me from a squatting position, holding her pussy open as I taught her, a quizzical look on her little face making lines appear prematurely across her forehead, while her nipples remained soft and unexcited.
"What's wrong Master?" she asked, risking an additional ten swats with the whip.
"You're not supposed to speak without being asked a question," I reminded her, "Come on out we need to talk."
"But Master the door is locked!" she reminded me.
"And you have a key," I told her, "I'm not entirely stupid."
"Yes Master." she agreed and she pulled her key from under her blanket and turned it in the lock on her cage door, and then she squatted down again but she still peered at me when she should have looked at the floor, while she slipped her fingers inside herself and slowly masturbated ready for me to throw open the cage and manhandle her to the edge of the step and ram the full length of my manhood straight into her moist softness as I loved to do every evening after work.
The barred door creaked open, I remembered collecting it from the blacksmiths was it five years ago, when I first took the house, when my first bonus cheque from my first job trading futures at the bank paid for my first slave, Fuck-slut, and I had to fix up the basement myself, cementing the bars in, and the door and fixing up the special flushing hole in the floor like Middle Eastern people use.
I found when you're earning good money you can't get a woman to love you, you as a person, they just see a wallet, a credit card, a big house, so after a string of lying cheating so called girl-friends Firman, from Human Resources suggested I use an exclusive brothel which had an arrangement with the bank and then after a while when my preferences became known it was suggested I purchase my own sex slave and I was invited to my first auction.
A warehouse near Slough, railway arches near Kings Cross, an office complex near Canary Wharf, even a disused factory unit near Hatfield, the venues for the auctions were as varied as the format was the same, a stage, a circulating area and backstage holding areas and of course an auctioneer, I became part of that scene for a while, trading, changing girls every few weeks until I found my Kitten.
With hindsight Fuck-slut, my first fuck slut that is, needed psychiatric help, she thrived on beatings, loved me to call her bitch or slut and the more violent our sex the more she liked it. I sold her on, at a profit, she was too much for me, and I, too mild for her.
Then there was Caroline, Fuck-slut two or Cunt as I called her, she was quite ugly really, dark and ugly, not plain like number one but ugly, slightly dark skinned but dark hair, head, pubes, under arms, real dark but she seemed perfect at the time and when John D'arcy led her out on stage my heart skipped a beat, she was so compliant, obeying his every command no matter how softly spoken, from displaying her remarkable gymnastic ability before squatting and holding herself wide open as a finale that I just dived right in with a ridiculous offer even before the auctioneer asked for bids, John was delighted even though no one topped it and that started a fortnight of convoluted love making which threatened to destroy my back and then when I tired of her there was Anna.
I think Anna came from Pakistan originally, slightly dark skinned, unbroken, surly a challenge, I'm sure she had no papers, I didn't lock her cage or the doors in case she had been abducted and wished to escape but she stayed with me for a while until I swapped her for Georgia, gloriously voluptuous Georgia who loved me to whip her nipples but she was too much for me, built for comfort not speed, she needed the pampering I lacked the time for and then there was Dana, from Poland, blonde, natural blonde, and, well several more until Kitten came along.
It wasn't love at first sight, my first thought was horror as she was dragged naked and unwilling onto the stage, "This is Katie, Ladies and Gentlemen, Katie has signed form C in respect of a debt of several thousand pounds." Form C voluntary slavery agreement, an agreement which was generally anything but voluntary, usually a young girl in hock to a loan shark and was usually bought by a brothel.
She looked rough, her back and breasts criss crossed with the red marks of repeated beatings, her spiky blonde hair dyed red in blotches, and the piercings through eyebrow and nose, nipples and clit looked more like a cry for help than a fashion accessory, she looked just like she had been dragged in off the street.
"Do I hear three thousand?" Steve our auctioneer asked. There were barely a dozen of us in the warehouse, our breath was condensing in the cold air as she stood before a mean three bar electric fire.
"Five hundred," I offered.
"Oi Jefferson, you're taking the mickey!" her minder an East-ender named Harrison announced.
"This is a no reserve auction," Steve explained, "I have a bid of five hundred." he said, "Any advance?" She glared at me as she squatted there and held herself open and glared so nastily that no one bid for her, "Sold to S 120." he announced, it took a second to register that she was mine.
Transport costs soon bumped that up to the two thousand Harrison insisted she owed him and he delivered her gagged, leashed and bound at three that morning, a sad angry humiliated little fuck-slut bound and ready for anything.
I used to drag her out by her collar and whip her according to how naughty she had been and then when her blonde hair grew long enough I would use that to drag her out instead, but somehow I started simply raping her without whipping her, I suppose it saved time, simply fucking her hard, and then when I had cum I would have her lick her juices and my cum from my manhood and when she had finished I would be nice and hard in time for a nice slow fuck.
She purred like a kitten when she was enjoying herself, and bit by bit I stopped calling her a bitch because that seemed too canine for such a feline creature and Fuck-slut seemed too crude, and called her "Kitten," because really she was very beautiful, not when she first came because she was wild and largely untamed, but since I got her the wide screen TV and the music system for her spacious soundproofed dungeon she had lost that scrunched up look and she really did look like she belonged on the cover of a decent porno mag.
I peered at her, she had been showering upstairs again, I could tell, and her hair didn't style itself to look that good.
"We need to talk." I announced, as I stared at her critically, she really did have a gorgeous body, really firm breasts, not too big, or hard, but firm yet soft and yielding.
"You're tense Master, please use me then we can talk." she replied confidently, as she followed my every movement with her deep blue eyes.
"No, it wouldn't be fair." I replied.
"Master," she said, "Please, I have needs too." I looked at her as she sat back ready to lie on her back.
"No, Kitten this is serious, sit up properly and listen, I'm in big trouble," I told her, and I waited while she moved to the doorway and sat on the step, "I don't know if you heard but the trading arm of the bank job ceased trading last month which meant my job has effectively disappeared , I'm just tidying up loose ends, I've done the sums and I've had an offer on this house which I shall accept, because without the job I can't afford to run the house and pay the mortgage, which leaves you."
"Take down you trousers Master, you'll feel better after." she suggested.
"Who said you could speak?" I asked, "I'll damn well thrash you if you speak again."
"Yes Master, it will do you good to take your frustrations out on me Master." she agreed.
"No, I wouldn't be fair," I suggested, and indeed it was despair not frustration that I felt.
"Perhaps I could be permitted to suck while you talk Master?" she offered.
"No, you need to listen carefully." I explained, "What do we do with you?"
She looked at me expectantly.
"What would you like to do?" I asked, "I could get a very good price for you at auction but," I paused, "That's because you are unmarked,"
"Yes Master," she agreed.
"But you are very naughty aren't you?" I challenged, "Mrs Harris gave you the keys for emergencies like fires, not so you could sneak out and use my shower instead of washing in the bucket of cold water I provide."
Mrs Harris was my housekeeper, confidante, a sort of surrogate mother figure, she got my meals, made the beds, everything except shared my bed, but she had her husband Tom for that.
"Yes Master." she agreed.
"Or use the Gym at the Leisure centre." I suggested, "Hair at Pauline's, coffee at Starbucks, I'm surprised you haven't got your own car." Her jaw dropped in utter amazement.
"There's nowhere to park." she said.
"Because you passed your driving test in May I believe." I challenged.
"Yes Master." she agreed, "I had lessons, how long have you known?"
"Months," I replied, "But you keep coming home?" I queried, "Why?"
She just blushed and looked away."I wait until Mrs Harris goes in the morning and get back before she starts dinner," she explained.
"You treat my dungeon like an Hotel!" I accused her.
"Master," she said, "An Hotel with extras," and giggled.
"Very funny." I agreed.
"I'm sorry Master," she said, "But when I escaped, that first time I was frightened, I borrowed clothes from your room, and ran away but I had no money so I came home again."
"Yes?" I agreed.
"And so next time I went upstairs and phoned Mummy." she explained, "She thought I was dead, but I told her I was clean of drugs and I asked her for fifty pounds." she said looking really sheepish.
"Go on," I suggested.
"She refused." she said, "But then I found your computer." she explained "And you should really have a stronger password than "master" and I e-mailed her and she sent." She stopped suddenly guiltily.
"So was Mrs Harris in on this?" I asked.
"Oh no, but she never checks the post in the mornings." she reminded me, "So I was able to open an on line bank account,and get a credit card," she gushed "And they pay my unemployment benefit by direct debit."
"What?" I asked.
"Unemployment benefit." she said.
"So you have spending money, and free accommodation and food, effectively just for a few swats of the cane ?" I asked.
"And you Master," she added, "Every morning and night you hold me and make everything seem right."
"I rape you, you stupid girl!" I exclaimed.
"I think we both know that''s not true." she insisted, "Perhaps to start with, when you kept trying to force yourself up my bottom and used the whip, but not now, it's just nice."
"Oh great sounds like you keep a diary," I challenged.
"Facebook," she replied.
"Oh bloody hell." I sat on the floor, with my back against the low plinth the cage was set on, she climbed out and stood before me then she kneeled down and kissed me, her hands went to my tie and then my shirt buttons and she peeled my white shirt off me and she put it over her own shoulders, pushed her arms down the sleeves and buttoned it up.
"Do I look sexy Master?" she asked as she undid my trouser belt.
My tool answered for me as it strained, "Oh good!" she answered, and she positioned herself so she could sink down on me.
She sort of coooed as she slipped down my tool, and then when she was all the way down she said, "Master, if I wasn't your slave would you ask me out on dates, go to dinner?"
I could see how desperately she wanted me to say yes, but it wouldn't be fair, "No, you're just a fuck-slut,"
"Liar!" she said and she kissed my cheek as she began to bounce up and down, "I love you Master."
"I love you Katherine," I admitted, she looked shocked, she stopped bouncing and suddenly I could hold out no longer and all the pent up anger and frustration burst from me in a solid jet of fiery cum.
"Don't pretend," she said, "This is serious for me."
"Freudian slip," I admitted, "But I can't imagine life without you."
She grinned happily and went to suck my penis clean.
"Fuck-slut," I said brutally, "No," and I wrapped her long blonde hair around my forearm and forced her to stand.
"Master that hurts," she said.
"Ten lashes for a complaint that must make eighty so far?" I warned her as I forced across the stone slabs of the dungeon floor and up the stone steps to the ground floor of my spacious Georgian town house, past the Kitchen where Mrs Harris was making dinner, up the wide staircase to the first floor and on to the second floor where my own bedroom / dressing room / bathroom suite was situated.
I threw her on the bed and covered her pressing my chest against her, crushing her breasts and then as she cried out I began to rape her mouth with my tongue.
She dug her long nails into my buttocks gouging, scratching and raking long bloodied trails across my back and then suddenly her hands were reaching for my manhood and she was forcing it in her once more.
"Oh Master, you're so passionate tonight." she gasped.
"Me, what about you?" I retorted, but it was time for a long slow fuck now I decided, a lovely floaty gentle experience, an idea which lasted all of five seconds as she kissed my neck and I went back to pounding her.
It was too much everything went dreamy, I was riding in the grand national, driving a rally car and everything became a blur but then I sort of woke then Mrs Harris called "Dinner is served," she put her head round the door and said "Oh!"
She had pulled the bedclothes over us and she lay there with her hair across the pillow like she was on the front cover of some soft porn mag, the stupid thing was she looked so right.
"Dinner time," I announced.
"I'll set an extra place sir." Mrs Harris suggested.
Kitten gently rubbed my back, "I had better put something on those scratches," she said, "Sorry."
"Sorry Master," I corrected her.
"I think that chapter is closed now," she said quietly, "I think we've moved on." She reached up and undid her collar and laid it on the bed, we both stared at it.
"Yes." I agreed, "Katherine,"
"Kitten will do," she said "But I'll call you Stephen for now."
"So, Kitten, what do we do now?" I asked.
"Dinner," she replied firmly.
I dressed again, she just wore my shirt again and we went down to dinner, she looked at the chicken leg, usually she gnawed the meat from the bone but today she used her knife and fork, and instead of water from a dog bowl she drank non alcoholic wine from a glass.
"You makes a lovely couple and no mistake," Mrs Harris declared as she cleared the main course and brought the sweet, fruit in syrup instead of the whole oranges and apples Kitten was used to.
"We need to talk," I explained.
"Yes," she agreed, "I don't want to be sold," she insisted, "I know you could get a lot of money for me but, well, it's been too long Master."
"Too long Kitten?" I queried, "Two years?"
"Nearly three Master, they captured me when I overdosed after I was thrown out of Uni and then you bought me and I've been here ever since."
"Yes," I agreed, "nearly three years, gosh,"
"That's longer than some marriages!" she explained, "So if there has to be change well, I don''t want to lose you."
"No," I agreed, "Four kids, Ivy around the porch."
"Don't make fun of me," she said, "I can see you coming home tired and weary after a hard day at the pig farm."
"Hey!" I retorted, "Things aren't that bad."
"Stephen can we talk later, I want to watch TV for a while so I'll see you back here in your bedroom at eleven, is that all right?" she asked.
"Katherine, you don't need to be quite so assertive," I suggested.
"No," she agreed, "But, well, perhaps we can talk later," and she flounced away. I let her go, but I was curious so I followed her downstairs, and then went down to the dungeon, she wasn't watching the TV, she was curled up in her cage crying.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm frightened." she said, "What will happen to me?"
"I don't know," I explained, "I have to down size, I have to sell this house I have to find us somewhere to live."
"Promise you won't sell me?" she pleaded.
"No, not if you don't want me to?" I suggested.
"No!" she replied, "I want to be your Kitten."
"Then stay with me," I suggested, "It won't be the same, we won't have room for a dungeon, but well," I paused, scared that she would turn me down, "Dammit I haven't slept with anyone else for over two years, I'm used to you, I need you."
"Really?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes really," I agreed, she slid out of the cage, uncurled herself and flung her arms and legs around me.
"Do you remember when I came?" she asked.
"Oh god do I," I agreed, Oh my god, she had facial piercings, eyebrows and nose, in addition to her nipples and clit hood, which went septic one after another and she had lacquered spiky blonde hair dyed red in places, bright red, vermillion, not the rust colour of real red heads, and clad in a cut off denim jacket and leather boots and collared leashed and gagged and mad as a march hare but beautiful, she stared at me as if challenging me to a battle of wills.
The actual reason I bought her so amazingly cheaply, was as I was to discover, drugs, I commented "No one told me you were hooked on Heroin, I don't think either of us slept at all that first week."
"You tied me to a cross and you refused to get me a fix, I hated you so much!" she reminded me.
"I saw it, hatred, passion," In told her, "And I knew that first rape would be really special, it's just the bruised testicle that was not in my plan, you kneed me in the groin or had you forgotten."
"How could I forget!" she agreed, "But next time you tied my ankles behind my neck and hands to my side and you just did it."
"Like fucking a frozen chicken," I suggested, "But even then other girls seemed tame compared to you, and as you got into the role, well, you were all I needed." I felt myself stiffen, "New rule, Kitten sleeps in Master's bed." I ordered.
"I don't want to sleep," she said,
"Sleeps and plays, I meant," I explained, "And she wears clothes." I added.
"Clothes Master?" she asked innocently.
"The ones you have stashed in all sorts of strange places," I told her, "I'm not completely naive, we'll put them in my wardrobe tomorrow, but for now just come upstairs with me." I suggested, "And tomorrow you can learn to cook and clean."
"Thank you Master," she said, "Is it bedtime?"
"No, come sit with me, in the lounge, just relax." I suggested.
"Master," she said, "Can I have a car?"
"Yes, you'll need one for work." I was winding her up.
"Mummy said she'll buy me one,when I pass my test," she stated, "And I've passed my test."
"You've been seeing your Mother?" I asked.
"Yes we meet in town on Thursdays, and Grandma she wants to meet you, I told her we are lovers." she said.
"Are you the most disobedient slave of all time?" I asked.
"Yes Master," she agreed.
"Well perhaps you'll make a better lover." I suggested and I turned the TV on and she curled up on the couch and we watched a really exciting program all about finance.
I woke at 2 a.m. my back hurt, I had fallen asleep in my chair and so had Kitten so I hoisted her in my arms and took her to my bed and climbed in beside her.
She woke me with a blow job and before I could get breakfast I had a phone call from Mr Grayson head of personnel at the Bank, "Look Stephen, we may have been a bit hasty so we've decided to retain a presence in the trading arena, commodities, futures that sort of thing, keep our hand in so to speak and wondered if you would like an interview."
"Yes, when?" I asked.
"Nine fifteen and bring your young lady would you, oh and it's the board room."
"Young Lady?" I queried.
"Yes, that long legged beauty you keep hidden." he suggested.
It was a nightmare, the was no time, "Kitten you have to come to the bank, have you anything to wear."
She rushed away to return in moments with a little black dress, a yellow twin set and something hideous in blue.
"Which one Master?" she asked.
"Yellow, do you have shoes."
"Yes Master sensible or posh?"
"Sensible?" I replied and she scuttled away to return with some surprisingly sensible black low heeled shoes which somehow set off her long legs to perfection.
"How do I look?" she asked anxiously.
"Ok, but, handbag, purse, do you have one."
"No!" she said, "I use a canvas bag sorry." I thought furiously.
Jewellery, I had some somewhere, the Cartier watch I bought for Julie, some pearls I won at poker, my grandma's old treble clef brooch and the engagement ring I bought for Marcia before I found she was bonking Steve Wilkins from accountancy. I fished them from the drawer in my bedside table, I set the watch and handed it to her before I slipped the string of pearls around her neck, and then I gave her the brooch which set her jacket off nicely before I took the ring and offered it to her.
It almost fitted, a bit loose perhaps on her ring finger but she smiled happily enough as she moved her hand to watch the diamonds sparkle in the light.
I stared, she really was beautiful, classically beautiful, not just sexy, I started to stiffen but there was no time, so I struggled to get dressed, this was maybe my last lifeline and I wasn't going to blow it, luckily Mrs Harris had looked after my shirts and suits so I was able to look presentable after a month or so wandering about dressed casually, and as quickly as we could we rushed down to the mews and climbed into the Range Rover.
"There's plenty of room for a MNI for me," Kitten remarked as I struggled to ease the Range-Rover through our narrow rear entrance, and then with an angry crackle and a cloud of diesel fumes we were away into the traffic.
I found a space on level minus four of the Bank's underground car park, and we went to reception in the express lift where Miss Myles intercepted us before we could sign in and she ushered us to the Director's elevator which whisked us straight to the boardroom floor.
She asked us to wait in the ante room, before opening both boardroom doors slightly to announce "Mr Jefferson and a young Lady sir." and then she pushed to doors wider allowing Kitten and I through to face the board.
"Ha Jefferson," Fairbrother announced, "You know everybody do you?" he asked.
"Yes, this is Katherine." I explained.
"Rather an unnecessary introduction," Sir Alan observed, "And how are you Katherine?"
She squirmed uncomfortably.
"I'm very well thank you daddy." she said, my jaw must have dropped a foot, "I would have told you," she said.
"Well you certainly look well," he observed, "Am I to take it you didn't know you had been living with my daughter for the past six months?" Sir Alan asked.
"She was a bit evasive, sir." I explained.
"Always was bloody devious," he admitted, "My dear lady wife didn't tell me until last week but I suppose it could have been worse."
"Yes sir."
"So that's why we're offering you the position of head of Trading," Sir Alan offered, "But don't get too excited, there won't be much in the way of bonuses and the salary is only slightly more than your present one."
"Is this because of Katherine and I sir?" I asked.
"Of course it is you bloody fool." he replied.
"Stephen are you going to let him speak to you like that?" Katherine asked.
"If it gets me a job then he can swear like Liverpool docker as far as I'm concerned." I explained.
"The lady wife doesn't want you scarpering off to the States or something silly." he suggested, "What do you say?"
"Yes, thank you very much!" I agreed, "Can I take a weeks leave?"
"Yes, bugger off there's sod all to do," Sir Alan agreed without bothering to consult the rest of the board, "Starting Monday."
"Daddy, why the rush, I haven't had a holiday in ages," Katherine exclaimed as she flashed the diamonds of her ring.
"Ah!" Sir Alan exclaimed, "Sunday Lunch, no excuses, and perhaps a months leave might be appropriate?" he asked as he looked around, "Good, Good that's decided." he announced, "So if you will excuse us there is rather a lot to get through."
Our world had changed, Kittens and mine in less than 24 hours, she was no longer the plaything to keep hidden but the key to my future employment, something to show off as much as possible, but she still wanted my approval now the drunken and drugged party animal she once was had gone for ever, so she drank alcohol free wine without demur and yet when we got home she still wanted me to take her like I always had except in my bed and not the dungeon, hard and passionate followed by slow and loving.
I often think back to that last time, we have dismantled the cage now and painted the cellar or dungeon white and I'm building a model railroad for William down there, he's a bit young for it at three years old but at over thirty feet long it will take years to finish and he really needs somewhere safe to play away from his sister Amy who is eighteen months and Katherine is already feeling broody again.
But I'll never forget her, squatting there, holding herself open for me in the cage that Last Time.
The End
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