Converting Cassandra Ch 2

I brought the bottle of spirits toward her nose slowly, not wanting her to be awakened too abruptly. Not that I was worried about her wrinkling her nose in disgust; lord knew she did that often enough. It was because I was trying to avoid her realizing that I was manipulating her sense of time, and why.

Although she came awake a little more languidly, her reactions to her bindings were much quicker, and more violent. She jerked with both hands, which instantly clenched into fists. That caused her pectorals to flex, making her breasts jump quite enticingly. Then she snarled like a caged tigress.

"God damn it! I was hoping this was some sort of bad dream." Then her voice broke into a near sob. "Why are you doing this to me? What is it you want of me?"

I had steeled myself to resist her plaintive protests. Still, it was hard. The uncertainty, the fear, must be terrible. On the other hand, that was exactly the psychological effect I had hoped to achieve, so the agony and the ecstasy of hearing that helpless, pleading tone of voice were nearly equal.

When she had calmed down again, I gave her more water. She was a little more used to the experience, and didn't fight it. For the next two hours I just sat and watched. Although she occasionally tested her bonds or shook her head trying to shake off the blindfold, for the most part she lay quietly. Once she cursed at me for several minutes, calling me a coward and a lot worse, then demanding that I let her go, or at least do something to her and get it over with. During that tirade her breasts heaved and shook excitingly again, and her muscles tensed in ways that moved her pelvis around very temptingly. Afterwards she slumped back, as though exhausted with the effort. Her mouth looked a little down to me, so perhaps she was already starting to feel a least a little despair.

I finally fed her again, just soup. Once I dribbled a little on her cheek, and wiped it off with a napkin. As I did, she started to thank me automatically before stopping herself. She finished the meal in silence.

Another hour went by, and she started squirming. After fighting it for about fifteen minutes, she gave in.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she said harshly, hating having to admit such a thing. I just sat there. "Hey, asshole, I said I have to go to the bathroom. I know you're there. You going to make me soil your bed here?" She was perfectly aware that, if she did that, I would let her lay in it for a while.

It took ten minutes before she finally said the magic word, in a fairly polite tone of voice. "May I please go to the bathroom?"

This would be the first test of my control system. I had run a very heavy track from above the bed to the bathroom. From that track hung two half-inch metal cables, more than enough to bear her weight easily. I fastened the clamps at the end of those cables into the eyelets on her wrist restraints. Then I gently pulled on the single cable that went through a block and tackle hanging from the track. This raised her hands above her head to the extent of her ropes from the bed, which I released once her hands were far enough above her head to not be able to quickly snatch the blindfold away. I pulled her to a full sitting position before releasing her ankle restraints. Although she had not said a word through this process, as soon as I released her second foot she tried to kick me. I almost laughed. Having expected her to try something, I easily dodged the kick. I released the cable from its mooring, and continued raising her gently to her feet. She was naturally intelligent enough to get off the bed and stand before I actually had her hanging in the air. That would come later.

As it was, she couldn't quite put her feet flat on the floor. From behind her, I put both hands on the back of her waist and guided her toward the bathroom. I was very tempted to push her from those round, firm butt cheeks, but it wasn't time yet. I let the line play out as she walked the twenty feet, then turned her around when she was in front of the toilet. I let her down very slowly, not so much worried that she might miss the seat as she sat down, but to make sure I kept her hands taut enough so she could not reach that blindfold. That would be one of the most difficult problems whenever I was letting her exercise, which would not happen too often, or go to the toilet, which would.

"You're not going to watch, are you?" she asked, half in horror, half in disgust that a man would watch her do something so personal. When it was obvious I wasn't going anywhere, she said, "Well, shit! Go ahead, you pervert!" with as much vehemence as she could. Then she used the toilet. When she was done I raised her up again, wiped her off thoroughly as she gritted her teeth, and walked her back to the bed.

As I turned her to lay her back down, she got off a much stronger kick and actually grazed my leg. I calmly raised her to where her toes were just touching the bed, picked up a crop from an array of toys on a nearby table, and whacked her firmly across her butt.

"Ouch!" she screamed, far more loudly than the blow deserved. "You sadistic animal!"

I gave her a second whack, harder than the first. "Yeouch!" she screamed. This time her volume was more appropriate to the pain. "You bastard! You cowardly shit!" she yelled as she writhed in pain, obviously wanting to rub her stinging bottom. Well, I wanted to rub it, too! Instead I gave her another one, even harder.

She screamed again, but this time gritted her teeth and didn't call me any more names. I let her hang for a full minute, wondering if she would get another blow, before slowly lowering her down, reversing the process by which I had released her. She was crying bitterly, I'm sure more in rage and humiliation than the amount of pain I had given her. I have to admit, I was grinning broadly as I refastened her hands and looked at the tears running down her cheeks.

I let her lay there for another half hour, until I was sure the pain had faded. Then I gave her some more water, which she drank down eagerly. Then I slowly and carefully etherized her again, to avoid her knowing for sure what I was doing.

When I was certain she was soundly asleep, I stroked her cheek very gently, tracing the dried water on the soft, pale skin. I sat by her as she slept.