***Note: this is a work of fiction that deals with NON-consent****
Over the next few days, I allowed my bitch to heal physically from the abuse she endured over the weekend. At times I felt a little guilty when I realized the brutality she had endured at the hands of me and my friends. But her naturally rebellious spirit would shine through, and I realized that she could still take a hell of a beating before any real damage was done.
For three days I kept her in complete darkness with a silk bag over her head. Twice a day I would lead her to the bathroom so she could relieve herself. I would come in at random times, so she never knew what to expect. She knew better than to speak without being spoken to so she couldn't beg for food or water. It didn't take her long to figure out she could suck my cock as means to beg for survival.
I loved coming into her chamber and seeing her perk up at the sound of me opening the door. She would crawl in the direction she heard me enter and feel around the floor until she felt my feet. She would then worship at my feet for a few minutes before undoing my pants. She did all this hesitantly at first, since she didn't have explicit permission.
I would lift the silk bag high enough to expose her mouth, keeping it firmly over her eyes. Then came the most intense blowjob of my life. I always exploded in her mouth, making her take all of me. Then I would hold her hair and give her a drink of water or a small morsel of food.
With each new torture, I honed my craft as a slave master. I thoroughly enjoyed this new exercise, making her completely dependent on me.
Finally, after 3 days I was ready to take her back out.
"Crawl to me and present yourself."
She immediately obeyed, taking a kneeling position in front of me, head on the floor.
"Do you deserve to look at me?"
"No, sir" she barely whispered. I could tell she hadn't spoken in days.
"Good answer. Take off your hood and look at your master."
She rose and did as I asked. She almost reverently looked up at me.
"Have your bruises healed by now?"
"Not all of them, sir, but much better."
"Stand up and let me inspect my slave."
She did as I asked, keeping her head bowed in a submissive stance. I saw several large bruises in various stages of healing all over her body, but overall, she looked perfectly healthy.
"We're going to a cookout today. You think you can behave and not make me ashamed of my bitch?"
"Y-yes sir. I- of course, sir." She looked genuinely shocked but also excited.
"My dad is grilling out today. I told him we're dating again but it's different this time. I guess there's some truth in that." I chuckled, despite myself.
"Am I going as..? I'm sorry, permission to speak, sir...?" She braced herself for my punishment, but I was feeling merciful, and I realized she made an honest mistake.
"Just as my girlfriend. The guys understand the bdsm relationship but that's not something I'm going to explain to my family."
"I see."
"You will behave as my girlfriend, but that doesn't mean you can disregard our rules. I expect you to show me the utmost respect and behave yourself."
"Of course, sir!"
The ride over to my dad's house was a little awkward. I could tell she didn't know quite how to act. But that was ok. She was always so fiery-tempered, and had often shown her ass at family functions, much to my embarrassment. One Christmas she got drunk and started a fight that ended in me carrying her upstairs to sleep it off. Not anymore.
The barbeque was going well. I helped my dad grill out, she socialized with my stepmom and sisters. When it was time to eat, she fixed me a plate and got me a beer. She made it seem like that was the kind of girlfriend she had always been.
After dinner we were sitting around playing cards. Everyone was drinking, but I had been keeping an eye on my bitch and made sure she was pacing herself.
"So, what made you two decide to give it another try?" My dad asked, never one for subtly. I think he was the most disappointed when we broke up.
"Well.." I started, "we've been talking on and off and-"
"Some things are worth fighting for." She said, giving my hand a squeeze. She gave me the smallest smile and for the briefest of seconds I thought she might be genuine.
"No. This is her game. You might think you're in control, but this bitch is a master at mind games." I thought.
"Exactly. I couldn't let this one get away." I said, kissing her on the cheek.
We continued enjoying the night, and I noticed she became more at ease with me, almost like how we used to be with each other. She flirted with me, held onto my arm, and found ways to touch me. I had to admit, I had missed this.
"You're losing control." I told myself.
During a pause in the conversation, I looked right at her. "Get me another beer." I told her. Everyone paused and looked at me.
"Um, how about a please?" My Stepmom said, mostly to break up the tension.
I stared at her, and she was frozen like a scared deer for just a split second. Then she laughed, "get it your damn self!" My family laughed as I strode to the fridge to get my drink.
I passed her on my way back and raised my eyebrows. She knew she had fucked up. She played it off the rest of the evening and was extra attentive to me, silently begging me for forgiveness.
We enjoyed the rest of the night and headed home around 11pm. We headed out toward the road. My family lives in the country off a dirt road that's about two miles from any main road. On the way to the main road, we passed a woodshed. I knew by the time of year that it would be only half full. Best of all it was far from the prying ears of my family, and far away from any civilization for that matter.
I pulled over and parked behind the shed so that my truck wouldn't be visible from the road.
