Li's Story

Li wondered how she kept getting herself into these situations. She was exposed. Her feet fixed apart by a spreader bar. Her hands, hell even every individual finger, were bound tightly together in black latex gauntlets behind her back. On top of that her head was enveloped by latex hood which sported a thick blindfold kept in place by a heavy bridle that even a plough horse would consider a bit much. The bridle itself was roped to the middle of the spreader bar, keeping her doubled over. Oh yes, and she was also suspended upside down, twisting slightly to what miniscule writhing she could manage.

This was all par for the course for her, even pleasing. There was a sense of security in the tightness of the restraints, and a liberation from choice itself. But what was driving hair-shreddingly insane were the two vibrators strapped snugly to her groin. One, a stoppered thumb-sized bastard, had been slid into her ass. The other was one of those magic-wand doohickey's, tied against her thigh and pressing against her clit. Some sadist had been edging her for the last three hours, incessantly playing with the speed settings, getting her closer and closer to climax only to back away or even switch them off. Her posture had gone pretty much unchanged in all that time, the only reprieve she was given was to be occasionally lowered to the ground and let the blood rush from her head. Then five minutes later it was back up in the air.

She guessed whoever her tormenter was, it was also the same person who would feed his cock into her mouth every twenty minutes or so for a good polishing. He never ejaculated, so he was being edged as much as she was. It was probably Tom, that servile prick. Master's cock was larger than his, so it had to be Tom.

This was all punishment of course, so it wasn't like she was supposed to be enjoying herself. Orgasming without permission came with some stiff penalties in this house.

As her tormentor powered up the vibrators for the umpteenth time Li asked herself again, how did she get into this situation?

#

Close to a year had passed since Li was Gregory's toy. She had spent it aimlessly rolling around the entire width of the country, waiting for that fat goose of an investment to lay its golden egg, and then...what? She didn't like to think about it. Fortunately there were enough states, enough cities, and enough insipid tourist traps to keep her distracted. She didn't like Washington though, something about all the trees kept reminding her about Gregory. Utah was picturesque at any time of the year.

There had only been one man in the interim. Some boring, forgettable slouch somewhere around California. He had been all smoothness and smiling confidence in the club, which was soon followed by a lacklustre performance in the bed. All she got out of it was a giggle to herself as she imagined starting up a "Yelp" style website for sex. "Piss-poor showing with insufficient equipment. Not worth suffering the arrogance."

Somehow, and she would swear through no conscious choice of her own, Li had looped around the country and had returned to New York. Perhaps it was inevitable, as it was the last place where there had been any sort of anchor in her life. An invisible leash that could only be pulled for so long before eventually wrenching her back.

Li surprised herself by driving by Richard's old home, her old home. She stared at it through the tinted windscreen of her Lexus. There was a distant tug of nostalgia, but that was soon overwhelmed by a crashing wave of the most deviant desires. She squirmed in her seat as she bit her lip at a hundred memories, some pleasant and others not quite conventionally so.

"Like a well-trained terrier." Li sighed with hot breath and dropped her head to the steering wheel. Richard, as a lover, was finally dead to her, and yet his influence still gripped firmly at her. The sixteen months since his car crash had clearly not washed everything away.

It dawned on her there, idling in a car outside a home that was no longer hers, that it might never go away. If that was indeed the case, then she could not imagine living her life without having those desires filled. There must be millions of Masters in the world, with millions of slaves. Why was she having such a hard time finding her place? Of course her introversion and horrible experience on the Internet certainly didn't help. Smiling slightly, she realized that she may have walked passed a dozen suitable Masters today alone, as they cursed a very similar thing to themselves as she went by.

There were only two people left in a 500 mile radius that she really knew, and Gregory was someone she had sworn to never lay eyes on again. Almost absentmindedly, Tyra's number was punched into Li's phone. The line buzzed. They had not been on good terms at all when they parted ways. A particularly talented cello player who was well known for her fiery temper. The line buzzed again. Li had slapped her awfully hard during their last conversation, would she even want to talk? Li's thumb started to move to cancel the call when it was picked up.

"What?" Ah, Tyra clearly remembered too.

"Hey." Li began timidly.

"What?" Tyra repeated. There were daggers in her voice.

"Tyra, it's, well, it's Li. I'm back in the city and I just, I just wanted to apologize."

"Apology accepted. Now fuck off."

"Ty! Please, no, really I'm sorry. You're the closest thing I've had to a friend since college and I screwed things up between us because...Jesus I don't know. Because I always screw things up. One cup of coffee, my treat, that's all I ask." There was a long silence.

Eventually there was a distant sigh of resignation, "Fine. I got a twenty minute opening at one o'clock. The Bronze Urn, you know the place?"

"Yeah." Li glanced at the clock, it'd have to be a fast drive. Tyra hung up without another word.

#

Tyra! It was Tyra's damn fault that she was in this situation! The two vibrators growled up to full throttle. Christ were they gas-powered? Li bucked and twisted as much as she could under the draconian restraints, effecting only a tiny wiggle of her body. The rope between the bridle and the spreader bar was unhitched and her torso achingly unfurled. A zipper was undone right where her head dangled, and hands clasped at her head.

"Please! I'm so sorry!" Li whimpered, "I won't do it again, I won't -mmf!" Six inches of cock slid its way down her throat, right to its base, and held there.

"If you want to add a ball-gag to your punishment," Tom's voice, the cocksucker! "Say another word."

Li coughed and gagged, but did not even dare think about introducing her teeth. She hated servicing Tom, he was not the Master of this house, and she only cared to serve Masters, not other slaves. Tom rocked her head back and forth, letting his meat run along her tongue ever so slowly. Li tried to console herself, this was what Master had ordered to be done. Servicing Tom served Master. This was her fault, after all. She knew the rules, they had been clearly explained to her, along with the relevant punishments. She had agreed to this. She wanted this. Right?

Tom started to pump his hips into the motion, moaning with pleasure. She could hear the self-satisfied smile on his face. Her toes curled as the powerful vibrators threw her towards an orgasm. Oh please don't notice! Please don't notice! Oh shit don't-

She couldn't help it, as a prelude to the coming climax Li let out an animalistic groan, her thighs in joyous spasm. He noticed. Tom hastily yanked out his cock, a tendril of saliva eagerly stretching for more. He hit the controls, killing the machines.

"God damn it!" Li snarled.

"What did I say about speaking?" Tom gave a sleazy laugh before plugging her mouth with a rubber ball-gag, locking it in place with a baleful 'click'. "See you soon." Tom slapped her ass on the way out. The door slammed shut and his footsteps disappeared, nonetheless Li felt she was still being watched.

#

The Bronze Urn was a pleasant coffee shop in Manhattan that had not been taken over by either Starbucks or even any one particular sub-culture. Hipsters, emos, yuppies, retirees, and every other clique of New York seemed fairly represented, although at this time of day it was mostly businesspeople looking for that midday fix of caffeine and a doughnut. Decorated in warm yellows and browns, it felt almost a bit much in the late summer heat. Wooden stools, old sofas, and threadbare recliners were carefully selected and placed to provoke a homely yet haphazard ambiance to the shop.

Out of the oldest of habits, Li ducked her head as she walked through the door. The joyful jingle of a little bell eliciting quick smiles and practiced greetings. Li bought a cup of ginseng tea, and flicked her eyes about, quickly spotting Tyra sitting in a corner booth by herself, well away from anyone else. She was staring out the window with her brow deeply furrowed.

"Hey." Li said awkwardly as she slid into the couch opposite her. Tyra just looked at her over her cup of coffee. She looked older than Li remembered. A single grey strand against hair as black as her own, a few wrinkles creased what was surely once a perfect caramel skin. An old memory surfaced of Richard joking if Li would like to taste and see if it was as sweet as it looked. Memories like that once made her melancholic, now it seemed like an inappropriate thing for anyone to say.

Tyra glanced at her wristwatch, an anachronism in the twenty-first century, "You have eighteen minutes. Then I need to get back to work." The surprise must have been visible on Li's face, "Yes, I have a day job. Playing in an orchestra doesn't pay much, unless you got some sugar daddy."

"It was never like that." She diplomatically changed topics, "What do you do these days?"

"Same thing I did back when still never talked. Assistant editor to the magazine FemCap. We focus on issues of intersectionality in capitalist society."

"Such as?"

Tyra sighed and threw a finger around the room, "Black people make up 17.4% of Manhattan's population. What's the black population of this upscale slice of the American Dream?"

Li didn't need to look around again to know. "One."

"Women outnumber men as well, ten to nine. Before you rolled in I did a count: twenty-seven people in this place, only eleven women here. It's not an anomaly either, I've been coming in here every day at one o'clock for two weeks. The figures are fairly constant. Now go to any impoverished neighbourhood in this state and you will easily see a reversal of this trend. In a capitalist society this then necessarily means that-" Tyra caught herself, "Oh you clever devil. No, I'm still pissed at you."

Li gave a weak smile and blew on her tea, "At least we're talking." She hesitated for a moment, not sure how much she should explain, and how much she should lie. "I am sorry for hitting you, back then. I loved him, and you, well you never did respect him, did you?"

"He came from old money?" Li nodded in response, "That earns zero fucks from me. Hell, then he played life on easy mode. He should've done more than anyone else."

"You didn't know him. Richard worked hard, harder than anyone I've ever known, and he still had plenty to spare to push others. I've never met anyone like him, not even close."

Tyra's eyes narrowed for a moment, "Wait, you didn't call him by his name the last time we spoke. What was it you said? Master?"

Li's face flared red. She was trapped! Could she lie? No. Too late. Cat's out the bag and begging for treats. "Yes." She whispered.

"You understand why that would make me want to reach across the table and smack you, right? I know you weren't born in this country, but you got the gist of our history?"

"Y-yes. And I understand how you might feel-"

"Oh you have no idea, don't even pretend. How could you do that? How could call someone that, ever?"

"Am I not free to live my life as I choose?" Li started to rally herself. She could take any manner of abuses, but she would not be looked down upon by those who had no idea what she could endure.

"I suppose you are. Our magazine even ran an article on - on what I suppose you'd call the 'lifestyle' a few months ago. I met a so-called 'master'. A sociopath, total fucking sociopath, and you want to bow down to someone like that?"

"So I'm free to live as I choose, but others are not free to help me realize my decisions?"

"People aren't islands, Li. The idea of a private world is a myth. Even things behind locked doors, they resonate outwards."

"Jesus, Ty! I'm not here to argue this with you!" Her voice was much louder than she intended, although a few annoyed glances was all she got.

"All right, okay. You apologized for hitting me, and I suppose I was a bit of a deserving bitch in the moment. Look, I have to get back to work. Next issue is heading out to the publishers the day after tomorrow. Are you okay though? It's been a long-ass time and I guess I still don't know what you're doing with yourself."

"Ha, me too. But I'll live."

#

Master had finally come home. She never thought that she'd be so happy to see him, nor so grateful when he released her from her suspension, almost forgetting that he had been the one to put her in that condition in the first place. No, no, that was not right. She had put herself there by breaking the rules. She should know better than to think otherwise by now.

The blindfold came off first. Master looked tired, his greying hair dishevelled and his face more careworn than usual, but there was a hungry glow in his icy blue eyes that sparked Li's heart when their gaze met for an instant. Despite his apparent tiredness, he still bore himself with an air of calm authority and determination. It was something quite unlike Richard's aloof ambition, or Gregory's brute violence. Instead, it seemed to Li to be an authority born from experience and lifelong prudence.

Li had guessed him to be in his early to mid-fifties, although she would never presume to ask. A daily workout routine that could only be described as "Spartan" held any threat of a beer-belly well at bay, and, while not exactly of athletic build, he still earned himself a body that many twenty year-olds would be envious of.

Her ball-gag stayed on, even though saliva had been pouring out of her mouth almost as soon as it had been put on an hour ago. The latex gauntlets were replaced with wrist cuffs that clasped onto her nipple rings, giving her only a few inches of motion with her hands if she was willing to tug painfully at her own nipples. Beyond that and some delicate-looking black high heels, she was left naked.

Her current condition, as it had been explained to her, was "omega" in the household. She was the slave of slaves, so long as the orders of a lower-ranked member did not contradict the orders of higher-ranked, she had to obey. Tom was a slave, though he made her regret even mentioning that detail greatly on her first day. In fact, not only was she the slave of slaves, but she had to endure a strict, high-protocol consideration period of three months which she had only barely begun, and had already screwed up. No touching oneself without permission, no orgasming without permission. Rules two and three blown right out the gate and she had been suffering for it all day.

Master had Tom bring her to the parlour. It was a spacious room, brightly lit through the day by the southern wall being entirely glass, opening out to a large, high-walled back garden which even boasted a heated pool. The room itself had a milk-white carpet, thick and soft enough to be a blanket. Li had already spent a lot of time keeping it in absolute pristine condition. Large black aniline leather chairs and couches offered more than enough seating space for the household and the occasional guests. There was hardly a shortage of funds.

She was brought to her knees in the middle of the room, Master was sitting back in his great big armchair. He had changed from his office clothes to jeans and a white polo shirt. Tom stood off to his left, just in Li's periphery. Unlike Master, who had a tall, solid frame, Tom was lithe but short. He was young too, even younger than Li. Twenty-four if she were to guess, and his thick, blonde curls jangled mockingly whenever he laughed. He wasn't laughing now, but he was smirking. The prick. He had been the omega until Li arrived, and he was clearly enjoying his new station.

The two men regarded her in unequal manners. Tom leered, while Master inspected. She was kneeling, head bowed and ass cheeks settled back onto the slim heels of her shoes, hands up like a begging dog due to the way the cuffs were secured to her nipples. Her shoulders were beginning to burn; she could not relax her arms without tugging at her nipples in a way that she felt she just could not suffer at the moment. A drab of saliva dropped from the ball-gag and splattered along her exposed breasts. From the corner of her eye, she could see Tom getting antsy. Master was still, studying, contemplating.

"Sir, do you think we should wait for Mistress Patricia and Miss Francesca?" Tom asked. There was something in his voice that made Li realize that he had been edged just as much as she had been all day. That somehow made her feel a little better.

"I don't think there is a need for the whole house to be in attendance for this. Take off her ball-gag." Tom obeyed, and let it simply fall down into her lap. Li didn't move. "Did she orgasm?"

"Not once, sir." Tom returned to his position.

"And you?"

The tiniest hesitation, "No, sir."

"We will discuss your lie later. Slave, do you understand why you were punished?"

Li's jaw hurt as she spoke, "This slave does, Master."

"Do you believe you were sufficiently punished for breaking two rules of this house?"

Li also made the mistake of hesitating. She had been suspended, edged, and skull-fucked for five hours. The muscles in her neck screamed in pain, her pussy was in equal measures too tender to be touched and dying for a release. 'Sufficient' was a speck in the rear-view mirror and 'insane excess' was a fast approaching wall. "No, Master."

"What is rule number one, slave?"

"Do not lie, Master." A moment of silence passed, and Li shuddered out a broken sob, "Forgive this slave, Master. She broke two of the most important rules after she had said so much about what a good slave she is! I - this slave deserves more punishment but-but I can't - this slave can't!"

"You can't?" Tom laughed, "After all you said? Or was all that lies at well?" Li looked up imploringly at Master to chastise or overrule him, but he just looked at her through slits. She gave another sob. Had she broken three rules so quickly?

"Unhook her cuffs. Slave, position seven, and await your punishment." Li only had a moment to enjoy stretching out her shoulders. Position seven placed her bent over the back of a chair in the dining room, legs spread wide and up on her toes, hands gripping the legs of the chair. She was short, but fortunately so was the chair. The position was just right to jut out her ass, perfect for a fuck, or more likely in this case, a caning. She was not restrained, and she did not need to be. She obediently waited, expecting Master to have Tom fetch his cane shortly, but seconds turned to minutes and still she waited unmoving, her back, calves and hamstrings began to feel the strain. Indefinite noises of movement told her little of what was happening or what to expect next, and her focus slowly began to wander.

#

Two weeks had gone by since the Bronze Urn. Li had set herself up with a modest apartment in a part of the city that was considered safe, if not high-class. The night before Tyra and Li had met up again for a dinner date which went far more amicably, even if Ty had occasionally pushed the issue of her proclivities. It was more so out of curiosity than any moral vindictiveness, although the latter did creep up as an undertone. Her mention of interviewing some members of the scene had gotten Li's hopes up. Aside from a few exchanges over the Internet, she always had the impression that it was something very few people ever indulged in as a hobby, never mind as a permanent way of life.