Chapter 18
For the first time in my life I experienced wearing a slave collar. While
the women were bathing again, Jess and Frank let Rufus and Moss clean up out of
a pail of water, then chained them in a far corner of the room. They also
dragged the unconscious Seth between two posts and cuffed his wrists to chains
from the posts, leaving enough slack so they could leave him laying in a heap on
the floor.
When we came back they put iron collars around mother's and my neck, then
locked them with lengths of chain to a ring on the wall next to a pallet. He
left Sissy unshackled and suggested we get some rest, telling us we would need
it. Our only choice was to squeeze onto the pallet face to face on our sides,
as it was too narrow to accommodate us in any other position. He and Frank took
Sissy to the opposite end of the room, giving her instruction about preparing a
meal, then he and Frank each took a pallet and laid down. In minutes mother and
I were the only two awake, again very conscious of being close to each other's
naked body.
I finally spoke in low tones with a little grin on my face, "I was just out
for a ride, momma." She gave me one of those looks only mothers can have.
She said, "I guess you've seen too much to believe me if I said I was here
against my will?" She looked at me expectantly, as if hoping I would make life
bearable again by going along with that fiction.
I refused to play that game; my life had changed too much to think of going
back to a 'pretend it never happened' life of furtive, guilty glances. "Momma,"
I said, reaching out to cup her cheek with my hand as though our family roles
were reversed, "you are a healthy woman with needs that you have a right to
satisfy." Tears formed in her eyes.
She said, "Oh baby, you don't know what it's like to feel the needs I do, and
to have the one who is supposed to satisfy them treat you like your father
treats me. I get so frustrated and mad I could kill him as he sleeps. Since
our wedding night it has been the same. He never comes to my bed unless he's
been drinking, and when he comes there is no tenderness, not even brutality. He
gets on me without a word or touch, shoves himself in and does his business like
it was a distasteful chore. I used to get aroused, but after never being
satisfied, I just gave up.
I said, "Even though I've never been with a man I know if we get out of this
there won't be any going back to the innocent life; it ended today. Momma, I
just can't tell you in words how much I've changed inside." She was looking at
me with wide eyes, but I continued, "The only way I can describe it is something
woke up in me today, and what's more, I could tell that you have the same thing
inside you."
Her face clouded over with a quizzical look and she said, "You mean like
wanting to just let go, to sort of surrender and let your body find its own
pleasure regardless of what's being done to you?"
"I guess it's kinda like that, momma. I've got to tell you everything. For
as long as I can remember the sound of a slave whipping has made me wet down
there. Sometimes I rubbed myself till I would have that real good feeling come
over me. But all the time I was feeling good the world was telling me to stop
it, to stop feeling good. Well, today, I found out that it could go way beyond
just a good feeling; it can be so incredible you never want it to end. Those
bullwhips beat me so far down inside myself they woke up a part of me that
doesn't give a damn how the world thinks I should be. Let me tell you what it
felt like. At first the pain was just totally unbearable, but since I knew they
wouldn't stop beating me, it forced me to start moving deep inside."
"Somewhere along that inner me turned the feel of the whip into more of an
itching, stinging and burning sensation, way different from the agony I felt at
first. Finally, when that inside me took over completely, the whip felt a
hundred times more arousing to my sex than my rubbing fingers ever did. The
orgasm I had was about a hundred times better too. If you let yourself get to
the same place I did, the pleasure the whip brings is so much stronger than the
pain, I think I would hardly have noticed if they were taking off my skin."
Just inches away mother's face flushed, but I continued, "It's OK momma, it's
good, and I know if you'd really let go it could be oh so much better. Just
surrender to them, surrender to your body, and you'll wake up in a whole new
world where pain brings pleasure like I never dreamed could fit into my body.
"Just try it, mother. Stop holding on for dear life to what others say you
should be. Tell me you're willing to let go and just let it happen, to let
yourself experience all the pleasure your body wants . . .. My don't I sound
like some kind of professor of sex, and I'm only eighteen years old." I smiled
at my own presumption and she smiled back
Then mother's expression turned serious. She reached up with her free hand
and cupped my breast. Her hand gently squeezed my sore flesh and she whispered,
"What do you say, professor, is this letting go?"
I smiled and covered her hand with my own, holding hers against my breast as
I replied, "It's a nice beginning."
