Hello readers. This chapter, while not necessarily the last in this series, will set the stage for any future sequels. Again, this is a rape-fantasy, NON consensual story (although that might change throughout the story, you'll have to see) so reader beware. Thank you to those who have taken the time to offer constructive criticism on the previous chapters. I hope you all enjoy. -Red Phoenix
The next morning, I woke up early, around 5am. She was asleep next to me, curled up with her long reddish-brown hair spilled over the pillowcase. I got up and walked downstairs to make myself a pot of coffee.
It had been a little over a week since I had taken my revenge out on my ex. Since then, I had molded her into a compliant sex slave. But I woke up with a sinking feeling this morning. Last night's events had truly shaken me to the core. I knew I was past the point of no return. In the back of my mind, I thought this would eventually end with me being hauled away in handcuffs facing multiple charges of rape and kidnapping. But 'I love you'? It didn't make sense. Maybe she was fucking with my head. Maybe it was a weird Stockholm syndrome. Either way, I knew I had to go back to work. It was Monday. God fucking damnit.
I had a couple options. I could imprison her in some way, but I knew she would eventually be expected at work. For the past week I had used her cellphone to make excuses for her absence. A single text about flu-like symptoms got her out of work for a week. But I knew my time was limited.
My other option was to try and bargain with her. Maybe use last night to my advantage. Maybe if it was a weird Stockholm thing, she would let it go. Slim chance. If there was one thing I knew about my ex, she would eventually get even.
So, I chose my final option: I left her cellphone on the kitchen table and left for work. I briefly imagined myself being tackled by a SWAT team with my coworkers watching aghast. I thought about what I would say to my family. Would my trial be publicized? I couldn't think. I had to work. To have one last normal day. Maybe I wouldn't be arrested until I had one more drink of whiskey after work. Maybe I should have thought about that before I decided to enact my revenge fantasy.
With each excruciating hour that passed, I became more surprised that I wasn't behind bars. Then around 1 pm I got a text...from her.
A: What would you like for dinner tonight sir?
This couldn't be real. What was her game? Surely, she was not this brainwashed after only a week that she would choose not to escape given the chance. I decided to see where she was going with this, so I texted back.
J: surprise me. But it better be good. And I expect the house to be spotless.
A: yes, sir
J: and I haven't forgotten that you weren't up to serve me breakfast this morning
A: yes, sir. I know you will have to punish me for that
What game is she playing? Blackmail or? Either way I just have to wait and see what happens tonight.
When I got home that evening around 6pm, she met me at the door with a smile and a glass of scotch. I gave her a confused look, but it didn't faze her.
"Dinner is almost ready. I'm sorry, sir. Permission to speak, sir?"
"Permission granted." Then I used her name. For the past week I had almost exclusively called her 'my bitch' so that made her snap to attention. "Why didn't you turn me in? You have your phone. You've had 8 hours."
"Do you really think this was the first opportunity I had to escape? Or to turn you in?" She smiled a little.
"Wait, so...?" My head was spinning. What about the party?"
"When you were in the other room, Justin asked me if I was really ok with all of it. Actually, all the guys did at one time or another. I know you think they're loyal to you, but they're my friends too." She couldn't help but smile at the shocked look on my face. She continued, "I admit, the first day was...rough. It was hard, horrible. I mean, but... I can't explain it. We dated for four years, and I always felt like something was missing. I didn't respect you. We toyed with BDSM but...I don't know. There's some part of me that likes not being in control all the time."
"You mean...this past week, you liked it?"
"Not all of it. Sometimes it was hard and humiliating. But," she blushed, "it's been some of the best sex of my life. I think we can make it work... if you want to."
My head was spinning. This was too good to be true. I sat down at the kitchen table, and she sat across from me. "We need to talk about ground rules."
"Of course."
"You want to be in a relationship with me, as my girlfriend, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"You understand that I will still discipline you as I see fit?"
"Yes, sir"
"What if I cross the line?"
"Would you ever put me in real danger?" She asked.
"You know I wouldn't." I was serious about that.
She looked up at me from across the table. "I meant what I said last night. I know you didn't say it back and that's ok. But I meant it. I want this. I've wanted this for a long time."
We spent the next few hours discussing the terms of our relationship. She agreed not to press any charges in exchange for my word that every month I would check in with her and allow her to walk away free and clear if she wanted. In the meantime, we would resume our relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend in public and in most other ways we would have a master slave relationship at home. Most importantly, we established a safe word. She understood that use of the safe word would not automatically get her out of her punishment, but it would signal to me that I was getting too close to her limits, or that she was close to being seriously injured.
We agreed that my authority was final and that she would submit to all rules and punishments as I saw fit as long as she remained in the relationship.
Finally, around 8pm we had worked out all the details.
"I guess the only thing left is your punishment for this morning."
"Yes, sir" she lowered her head.
"Go put on your shelf bra, corset, and black thong. Crawl to me and present yourself on your knees with your tits out, hands behind your back."
She hurried to go change. I gathered the tools I would need for this particular punishment. I loved her shelf bra. It was an underwire push up bra with half cups that left her nipples totally exposed. They looked like they were perched on a shelf, ready for me to torture.
She did exactly as I asked and was presented in front of me. I snapped my fingers. She immediately assumed her submissive position with her head bowed deep to the floor.
I walked behind her and looked at her ass sticking up in the air. It was beautifully marked from the savage beating she had taken last night. I pulled her thong to the side and inserted the tip of an anal hook into her asshole. I could see it pucker and try to resist but I pressed forward. I heard her panting and trying to bear it. It was a large hook with a huge bell-shaped head that I knew would be painful. As I pushed it past her sphincter, she let out a wail. I got it fully inserted then grabbed her hair and lifted her back into the kneeling position. I pulled her ponytail back until her head was positioned in an awkward stretch backward. I secured her hair tie to the end of the anal hook. Any head movement she made would cause her to painfully impale her own ass. She moved several times to try and make herself more comfortable, but it resulted in cries of pain. I tied her hands behind her back.
I laughed at her kneeling before me, completely helpless in this painful position. "You're a pathetic bitch, you know that? Look at you. I should leave you like this for days. Make you beg me for your every need."
I was standing over her and the position I had her in forced her to look at me. When she tried to avert her eyes, she impaled herself again, making her cry out.
I laughed at her again. I was enjoying this too much. I sat down on the couch and started playing with her nipples. At times I would be gentle but then I'd give one or both of them a hard squeeze. That would make her writhe, and she would accidentally fuck herself with the large anal hook in her ass.
"God you're pathetic. Fucking yourself in your tight little asshole because you're such a whore. You love it when I torture your nipples, don't you?"
"Yes, master," she whispered.
"What was that bitch?"
"Yes, Master!!!"
"I'm going to play with these nipples for as long as I want. You know why? Answer me."
"They belong to you sir."
"That's right. I own these." I held her right nipple firmly and flicked her left nipple, watching it respond to me and harden under my touch.
