Chords That Bind Ch 06

Hello Readers,

So, I'll start with a disclaimer that you should read the chapters preceding this chapter to understand where we are. I also think you might enjoy listening to the music mentioned in the story to get a more immersive reading experience. We are approaching the end of Cecilia's time with Gerry. (I know he's a very unpopular one, so the good news is that the end is near! I love to hate him myself.) This was a difficult section to write, so thanks for bearing with me. Hope you enjoy it, but I'm really looking forward to sharing the next section of the story with you!

Poeticlicense91

*****

With that, Cecilia was left alone. She was still naked, but for the chastity belt. God damn him! She was wet again, rubbing her thighs together instinctually.

She sat on the bed, cross-legged with the binder in her lap. But she didn't open it. She just closed her eyes and struggled to understand what was happening. She ran down the list of things she knew.

She knew Master was trying to sell her.

She knew that he was preparing her for what his buyers wanted.

She knew that she couldn't escape.

Beyond that though, she was at a loss. Her mind flickered back to the past hour. She

had

begged to come, and she submitted to his paddle. Had that been a real choice? She couldn't be sure of even that much. She wasn't prepared to call his bluff. The stakes were too high. She lay on her side, because her bottom was tingling from its recent paddling. She rubbed her red bottom, and sighed as that brought a modicum of relief.

That was when the music turned on again, the same piano selection from before. Cecilia groaned. She needed peace and quiet, not this incessant music. She couldn't think straight with it playing, it wasn't background music; it compelled her to pay attention. "No. Not again." She whined, wishing it would stop so she could

think.

Instead, she felt her nipples tighten and her pussy get wetter. The music was turning her into a wanton slut, and the chastity belt was mocking her. Why was her body doing this? Why did she want to come again? She couldn't reconcile anything that was happening, her body was acting on it's own, leaving her to flounder.

Isn't that what he said? He said her mind would need to catch up. No. He was just conditioning her. She did know that. But the knowledge wasn't helping. She sat back up and opened the binder. The first page had photos of a girl, naked like herself, kneeling, head bowed, and hands facing palms up on her thighs. It was labeled: Greeting. A second photo had her kneeling with her fingers laced behind her head, and her legs splayed wide underneath her. The label indicated: Presentation. The last pose was identical to balasana, or child's pose in yoga, but it was called Supplication. The girl was kneeling with her head to the floor, with her arms stretched out in front of her.

The next page had a long list of rules.

1) Formal address is Master

2) Informal address is Sir

3) Do not speak unless spoken to

4) Maintain respectful demeanor

Cecilia already knew these.

5) You do not come without permission.

6) You do not play with yourself.

Her cheeks reddened as she read the terms for orgasm. She already knew those, and

hated

them. Somehow this was at the crux of her inability to resist him. Other rules on the list perplexed her.

7) Always wait for permission before touching your Master.

8) Never initiate intimacy.

Ha! As if that was something Cecilia would have to worry about.

9) Wait on your Master's pleasure.

10) Always accommodate your Master's every desire.

11) Always greet your master by presenting. [See first page]

So that's what the photos were for. Cecilia read on.

12) Never presume to look your Master in the eye.

13) Never object to his wishes

14) Never hide your body from your Master

15) Never lie to your master, or hide the truth from him

Punishment was outlined on the next page, citing specific offenses and the chastisement that would follow.

Smart mouthing resulted in being gagged. Trying to escape would see her painfully tied up. Lying would be answered with a cane. Striking her master was punishable with breast torture and a cropping. But Cecilia knew this already. She involuntarily shuddered when she read: "Attempting to reach orgasm without permission will be punished as the master sees fit." She was still sore from the cane and her long, kneeling ordeal. This seemed to be the most serious offense listed.

She turned the page. The title read: Expectations. This couldn't be good. She scanned the list

1) Enthusiastically service your Master, or anyone he indicates, with your mouth, ass, and cunt.

2) Respond favorably to any attention your Master cares to give you.

3) Confess all misdeeds and ask for appropriate punishment immediately.

4) Thank your Master for all your punishments.

5) Put your Master's pleasure before your own.

6) Serve your Master meals, clean, and perform any other domestic duty as he sees fit.

7) Suffer silently and gracefully when he chooses.

Rules for third-person speech were on the last page, followed by the words she wasn't allowed to use anymore: can't, won't, and don't were the big three. However most variants of swearwords were also off limits. There was an exception for dirty talk. These rules were nothing, if not thorough.

Gerry let her have the rest of the afternoon to herself. When she finished reading everything in the binder, she moved on to reading the novels that were still stacked against the bed. She was resigned to the music never turning off.

Lace, for his part, didn't know how to push the girl any further. With Ashton coming to see her in the next 40 hours, he didn't want to have a rebellious slave greeting the client she had been tailor-trained to entice.

Gerry started organizing her medical information, employment and education records, and writing up his final assessment: Pleasure was key to controlling the girl. She didn't like sensory deprivation or the cane. Anal play wasn't yet fully instilled, but she was on her way to accepting her own submissiveness.

It was risky, showing Ashton the girl this soon, and he had already pulled the trigger. He hoped that the slave's virginity would be a blue chip in case she didn't behave. After all, there was little use in buying a virgin slave if she had already been trained for someone else's protocol. The dangling details and niceties were going to have to be adjusted by Ashton himself. Gerry had done the work of imparting the dual experience of pleasure and pain, punishment, and mechanics of submission to the girl. He was readying her for Ashton, but there was precious little left for him to do with the time he was given. Ideally, he would have had the girl fully identify herself as a submissive, the way he did with his other 'unaware' merchandise. But he had never dealt with this situation before, and time was too short.

With the girl reading general protocol, what else was there to teach her? He decided to wait and see. Once again he was leaving it in Cecilia's hands what his next step would be. Obedience had been a major sticking point with the girl, he was going to test that and let it determine how he would present the girl to Ashton.

Cecilia had no sense of time. She just knew she was hungry again. She had read all the way through the Kitty Thomas books, and now couldn't even be angry with the protagonists. She was jealous of them. She couldn't explain why she wanted to switch places suddenly. No, she could... ... because

they

weren't locked in chastity belts and highly aroused. The weak girls in the books didn't resist, they just yielded and were silly enough to find happiness in it. Cecilia sighed, wishing it could be like that... NO! No, she just needed an orgasm. It was a physical conditioning that she was suffering through. She wasn't going to let her mind follow this plan... Except, that all her struggles had brought her was more discomfort.

Master walked in on her thoughts, bringing shepherd's pie with him. He stood just inside the locked door waiting for something. He didn't say a word, but started tapping the toe of his shoe. The tapping made Cecilia nervous. She didn't know what to do or say. The silence stretched out. Cecilia could smell the warm food, it was making her mouth water. Master sighed, "Well. Your dinner is getting cold little slave. I expected you to be quicker than this. Where is the proper greeting?"

Cecilia looked blankly at him. That sneaky subversive voice in her head said '

kneel!'

The image of the woman kneeling in the binder's photographs flicked her memory into gear: greeting. After that puzzled itself out, Cecilia's face flashed understanding. But she was going to refuse. She instead, played dumb.

"You know what I want little girl. Show me the proper greeting." Gerry knew she knew, he could read the truth of it on her face. "Go on then."

"No." Cecilia said quietly, determined to hold her ground this time. After all, the music had turned off, and she could think clearer.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." The word hissed between her teeth, and she felt more like herself. This man, the

master

in front of her had done nothing to earn the subservience he was demanding. She wasn't just going to give it to him.

"Very well then" said Gerry, refusing to be provoked. "Eat your dinner. I'll deal with this tomorrow. Good night."

He set the food down on the table, and left the room. His movements were eerily controlled and quiet. The door didn't slam, it just gently sealed her inside, and the metallic click told her she was locked in.

Instead of feeling brave, Cecilia felt incredibly stupid. What had she done? What was he going to do? Her stomach growled, but she was feeling nauseous. She clutched the black binder, and looked over the list of punishments. Mouthing off? Was that her crime? Or... 'Disobeying a direct order: Punishable with a caning, further measures to be determined on a case by case basis.' The bottom dropped out of her stomach. The words 'to be determined' were the most threatening thing she had yet encountered.

The hunger eventually won Cecilia's attention and she picked at the lukewarm beef pie. Now that her need to eat was satisfied, Cecilia's mind had no further distractions. She swung between her burning arousal and terrified conjecture about what Master would do in the morning. She was in for a caning, that much was sure.

Gerry was feeling rather pleased with himself. He wasn't interested in punishing Cecilia unnecessarily. That would only confuse the training, but Cecilia's disobedience merited one more punishment. Once firmly chastised, Cecilia would be sufficiently subdued in time for Sir Ashton's visit. He had an exercise in mind that would fully instill Cecilia's new role, without leaving room for doubt.

Cecilia hadn't slept a wink. At least, she honestly believed that when she was jerked harshly awake. The bright fluorescent lights blinded her momentarily and she used her sore forearm to shield her eyes from the sharp light.

"Up! Go on! Get up!" Cecilia could hear Master's thick accent through the gruffness in his voice. He was none too pleased. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of bed, stumbling, trying to gain equilibrium. She was still blinking, trying to shake herself into alertness, but already he was dragging her down the corridor, her worst fears being realized as she was finally able to adjust to the dimmer light in the room master liked to punish her in.

There were all sorts of things laid out on a table: lengths of rope and chain, more awful clamps, a range of crops and floggers and paddles. On the floor were several small, ornate oriental rugs arranged in a circle, completely at odds with the cold starkness of the room. Master led Cecilia to stand on one. "Stay." Cecilia was far too off balance to contemplate how to be brave. She was almost dizzy, and the rug was lovely and soft under her cold bare feet.

She heard a click and the door shutting behind her. More music: Gerry decided on something more emotional for today's lesson. Schubert's Fantasie in F minor for Four Hands was a magical piece, and a favorite of Ashton's. In fact, the recording was Ashton, playing with a very attractive Asian pianist.

"Present." The command was bewildering. Cecilia's grogginess was fogging her ability to know what that was supposed to mean.

"WHACK!" The cane came down hard on the back of her thighs. It was all the reminder Cecilia needed as her brain and sense of survival slipped into gear. She screeched in pain and dropped to her knees. She put her hands on her lap and bowed her head, tears already seeping from her tightly shut lids.

"Better. That's the right attitude. But wrong. That's the greeting. Hands behind your head. Back straight."

Cecilia adjusted her arms. As soon as she was in proper presentation form, Gerry landed a punishing blow to Cecilia's taught shoulders. The stinging rippled and a stripe blossomed across the girl's back, marking her visibly on her shoulder blades. She arched her back sharply, but the chill in the cold room made the pain linger. Cecilia clenched her teeth and started to feel panic creep into her breathing.

"None of that. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. Breath. We have work to do. One more lesson that you seem to need. Tell me Cecilia, what are you?"

"I- I don't know. I don't know what you want me to say!" fear and earnestness were playing beautifully across Cecilia's eyes. She wasn't able to fight with this level of stress working on her. The music was impossible, how was that much sound possible? It was distracting and playful; Cecilia hated it. She just wanted to die and instead the piano player had the nerve to play with whimsy. Even the angry violin would have been better.

"Tell me the truth."

"I don't KNOW!"

"I'll tell ya. Yer a slave, Cecilia. Yer a submissive lit'le slave. And you are going to learn that today."

"No." The protest was weak.

"Yes. Yeh are. Now, crawl over to the carpet to the right. We're going to do some

exercises

to help you today." Cecilia crawled, the cold in the concrete leeching warmth from her tiny body, making her knees scream with the remembered pain from her kneeling ordeal with the rice. Once she reached the soft carpet she waited, unsure and not feeling bold enough to dare another movement. "Present," he commanded. She did it correctly this time. "Good slave." The praise made her want to vomit. "Now, like the good slave you are, beg me for the punishment you earned yesterday."

The pain and the chill sent awareness through Cecilia. It was a test. She had to beg for the right punishment, didn't she? The cane? No. It hurt so much. She couldn't take it. "Please no." She whispered fervently.

"What are you?"

"Don't make me do this. Please!" She was weeping, the low volume of her voice carrying in the emptiness of the room. But the music carried a threatening mysteriousness in it. It was as quiet as she was...

WHACK! Another stripe from the cane landed on the very top of her buttocks.

"A slave!" she cried out, hissing at the pain.

"Tha's right. Ye're a slave. So beg like one."

"Please!"

"Please

what

? I know yer too smart for this game Cecilia."

"Please Master! Punish me." Defeat was there, and Cecilia was looking down in shame at her compliance.

"How?" Was there no end? Would he not just torture her and be done with it? Frustration and humiliation tinged with raging hopelessness made her scream.

"However you WANT damn it!"

Master crouched down, and lifted her chin up. Dangerously serious, he pierced her gaze with his own dark eyes. "That's a wee bit bet'er. Tha's right after all. Almost a proper answer, even. I will. But you... you oughta know better than to swear at me." He stood up and started the predatory pacing Cecilia was familiar with. "Yeh disobeyed a direct order. You should know the punishment for that. I'm sure yeh do."

"A caning... Master."

"

And?

"

"Whatever you see fit Master." She remembered her reading.

"Good slave. Now. Beg for your punishment."

Cecilia didn't see a way out. The music was somehow toying with her. It wasn't quite right, or of this world. It ushered in something altogether different but not entirely sinister. It was romantic as the old world conceived of the notion: dark and brooding, then light and airy in turns.

"I'm waiting Cecilia."

"Please Master, use the cane for my disobedience." Cecilia wished the music were loud enough that she didn't have to hear herself say the words.

"Very well Cecilia. Show me 'supplication' and ask. Cecilia put her forehead to the ground, relieved that he was done with the inquisition for the time being. She looked like she was praying on the little rug. Finally she could hide her eyes and cry in earnest.

"I expect you to count them Cecilia. Be a good slave."

Swish. WHACK!

"One." She was wailing now. Her bottom was so sensitive, and the cane was flexible and evil, with its bite.

Swish. WHACK!

"Two." Cecilia was zeroing in on the music. She was starting to understand that the music was there for her benefit in some way, and clung to the notes as if they were a life raft to her drowning thoughts.

Gerry kept at it. He had twenty strokes in mind, but seeing how easily her skin was welting, decided to keep it at twelve. He had more than just this specific punishment to instill today, and didn't want to cause undo damage. It was her mind that needed the real training after all, her body was fairly compliant to his desires.

Swish. WHACK!

"Eleven! Please, please, PLEASE! Oh God!"

Swish. WHACK!

"Aggh! Twelve!"

Gerry dropped the cane, letting the clatter echo on the floor. "Crawl to the rug on the right. Show me the greeting."

Cecilia didn't have any more pride left, she crawled, and when she sat on her heels, hissed as the stinging pain reawakened even at the soft motions. Cecilia whimpered, her hands were in front of her on her lap, and her head was down in humility. In front of her was a short vertical post with a large dildo mounted just above her eye level.

"Good girl. Now, present yourself."

Cecilia knelt up, relieved to take the pressure off her bum. The dildo was right in front of her now. "Spread those legs." He was barking the order as his hand travelled up her thigh. Instead of soothing away the stinging sensation on her bottom, he reached to feel wetness that startled Cecilia. This couldn't be happening. Why? Why was this happening? But the music took a turn for magical, and if she closed her eyes, Cecilia felt trapped, as if she were floating feet above the pain that was rooting her to earth. Without it, she could probably fly away, and the thought scared her, just momentarily she was grateful for something that kept her anchored, bound even though she was untied.

"What do you think I want yeh to do now?"

Cecilia didn't want to answer any more questions. Instead of having to hear her own submission, she licked her lips and started taking the silicone member into her mouth. "That's a girl," Master encouraged, "That's a good slave. Suck." Cecilia was slow and reluctant, trying to focus on the music and ignore the present situation. It was lyrical and teasing, and even though the music was better, it made her aware of how aroused she was. God she wanted to come again!

Gerry encouraged the sucking slave, placing stern control on himself as he watched the girl lave at the fake cock. Would it devalue her

that

much if he fucked her mouth? He'd love to see the look on her face. No. All in good time. He'd take care of his throbbing need later, and enjoy the show for now. After a few more minutes, he decided to move her to the next rug.