"We have emancipated them, but they remain slaves looking for their masters, all the same."
*
She arrived in a wooden crate.
He hadn't heard the knock on the door, and a thin layer of snow covered the box.
She must be cold
, he thought, as he brought the crate inside. From the garage, he picked up a small hammer and pried the lid off the wooden crate and looked inside. In the box lay a young woman, unclothed and curled up asleep on a thin wool-covered cushion and covered by a green wool blanket. She stirred slightly as a bit of melting snow dripped down onto her exposed toes.
He finished breaking down the box around her still-sleeping frame and discarded the scraps. He knelt down beside her and watched her breath, slow, deep breaths. With a finger, he stroked her hair and brushed it back behind her ear. Her skin was like cream and silk and was pleasurable to his touch. She seemed so innocent, so peaceful - and she was all his.
With a little effort, he picked her up, blankets, cushion and all, and carried her further into the house. The hardwood floors creaked a little at certain steps but the echo of the heavy steps on the floor all but drowned them out. He carried her through the arched doorway in his living room and gently set her down in front of a roaring fireplace. While she continued to sleep, he clasped a cushioned brass ring around her ankle. The ring was attached to a length of iron chain which was firmly bolted into the stone hearth. He left her there and went deeper into the room to sit and read.
After some time, he caught her movement from his peripheral vision over the top of his book and set it down on the nightstand beside him to watch. The lights in the room were dim, but she was illuminated by the fire behind her and by the soft lights near the entrance-ways. As she stirred in her sleep, and began to stretch her limbs, her blanket slipped off her body. His gaze didn't waver, but he did enjoy the sight of her creamy flesh and supple curves. She was exactly what he had ordered. She was his first and she would be perfect.
As she began to wake, the expression in her still blinking eyes gave away her confusion and slight apprehension of the situation she was in. When her leg finally reached the full length of its play and the chains chimed with tension, her eyes first fully came open. First, she pulled against the chain, seeming to test its strength and then, as the reality of the situation finally penetrated her groggy mind, she relaxed and scanned the room with her eyes -- still blurry with sleep.
When she finally realized her predicament, she struggled against the chain and tried in futility to pull the restraint off of her ankle. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she finally saw the man in the chair, watching her. She cried for help, but quickly realized her words were falling on stone ears. Then she began to scream for help loudly.
He had expected this, but was not pleased by it. Calmly, he set his book down on the end table and stood up. Though she was still yelling for help, she saw him stand and walk towards her. Instinctively, she scooted back against the brick wall by the fireplace. It was warm against her skin, but rough. As he walked, he held his finger to his mouth and whispered, "Shhhhh," but that only made her yell all the louder. As she couldn't back up anymore, and she was at the end of her chain, she began to scoot up the wall, finally rising to her feet as he stood in front of her. She continued to yell for help.
"Down." He said in a soothing voice that bristled with malice to her ears.
She shook her head and breathed in another lungful of air with which to yell.
The sharp smack that his palm made as it struck her cheek was more noise than pain, but startled the scream out of her nonetheless. She was stunned silent for a moment and was unable to resist when he reached his hand around her head and entangled his fingers in her hair. When he pulled down, her head snapped back, putting her delicate neck on display. As he pulls her hair down towards the ground, her knees bent and hit the hard-wood floor with a soft thunk. She whimpered a little at the pain from her hair being pulled, but didn't scream again.
He applied pressure to her head, guiding her down further until her exposed breasts touched the cold floor, instantly hardening her nipples and making her shiver. As her pressed further, she put her arms flat on the floor to cushion her head as he guided her to the floor. With her head turned sideways, she could only see the brown leather of his wool-lined loafers. Now she was scared and exposed, her knees were pulled up under her and her ass felt like it was miles in the air. The warmth of the fireplace kept her rear warm, but the hardwood floor chilled her -- the feeling was paradoxical.
When he was certain she would stay as he had her, he released her hair, and told her to "Stay." Being chained to the mantle, she had no real choice except to obey. She resigned herself to her fate - for the moment. She watched his feet as he turned and walked out of the room. As she waited for his return, her mind wandered as to where she was, how she got into this predicament, and more importantly, who she was. She couldn't seem to remember much about anything -- not even her own name. Lost in thought, head resting on her arms, she fell back asleep in front of the fire, her body warming throughout.
She wasn't sure whether it was the *snap* of the leather hitting her silky ass or the actual sting of the leather on it, but she was rudely jerked back to half consciousness when the pain spread like wildfire through her body. As it spread it flowed like a wave of lave through her, cresting here and there at the surface of her skin and causing it to tingle. She had to shift her legs a bit as the shiver hit her pussy and that tingle rippled up, exiting with a quiet sigh that escaped her lips.
With the second snap, she quickly sprang up on her hands, forgetting where she momentarily and was just as surprised when his heavy hand pushed her head back down to the hard floor faster than she could reposition her arms to catch herself. Before her face impacted the wood, the pressure was lessened and she was gently, but forcefully pressed into the floor. Before she could recover, he hands were snatched behind her back. With a familiar ripping sound, he pulled the Velcro apart and soon her hands were bound behind her. Her tugs at the restraints quickly proved to her that she would be unable to break free. She thought about rising up again, but with her arms and hands behind her, she would have no way to resist the assured trip back to the floor.
His voice was almost mesmerizing, "You can't be doing that, you WILL stay where I put you until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"
She was silent.
His voice was more forceful, "Do you understand?"
In a soft you, she answered, "Yes."
"'Yes', what?"
"Yes, I understand."
"'Yes, I understand.' What? Who am I?"
She hesitated, not knowing who he was, or what answer he wanted. She had not yet grown familiar with the sound the crop made as it swished through the air, but the sting on her ass cheek was a painful association she was making. Yet, she didn't know the answer and remained silent. The second snap she heard as well as felt and yelped a little as she jumped forward slightly -- not too far, lest the punishment be more severe.
She finally nearly yelled out, "I don't know! I don't know your name!"
"For you, my name is Master, or Sir -- and that is what you may call me. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
