Chapter 5: Ana, Rebellious or Confused?
The shower was excellent. The en-suite bathroom appeared to have been recently remodeled, with a large, jetted tub and shower combo, two sinks, and a bidet. Water pressure was excellent, and there was plenty of heat to wash away the stress of the day away. Even more useful for his purposes were the mobility options, presumably added to ensure Ana's aging parents didn't have a tumble. There was a mobility railing mounted behind the tub, another one beside the toilet, and a slotted bench mounted next to the shower to assist with dressing and undressing.
It contributed to Dane's strange, intoxicating sensation that this was all just Ana fulfilling her purpose. As if the girl had been destined to become his plaything from the moment her parents had laid eyes on the house.
There were other touches in the master bedroom that reinforced this sense. The four-poster bed was built of thick, solid oak — well-suited to secure a slave. The room was sparsely decorated, but the pieces in the room were high quality. There was an antique Chinese wardrobe, perfect for storing a few select toys, and a 19th century vanity to decorate his toy. And there was a little nook overlooking the street, with a rather heftily built chaise lounge that showed a number of possibilities.
Ana's apparent living habits only added to the sensation. Aside from a bathrobe and a slightly damp towel hanging in the bathroom, and a few outfits in one corner of the walk-in closet, there was almost no evidence of her in the room.
Apparently, she'd actually been residing in a small guest room on the first floor, despite the fact that most of the floor space was taken up by the bed, with only a small desk and chair, and a closet that was serviceable, but hardly spacious. It made no sense to Dane, unless on some level, she was anticipating a master to take possession of her family home, and dispose of her and his other possessions as he saw fit.
The one part of the room where Ana had made herself at home was the little reading nook by the window. She'd been apparently sorting her parents old books — a substantial pile of Cold War thrillers, grocery checkout erotica, and the odd self-help book, beside a smaller one of childhood favorites and a family photo album.
The small bookshelf was awkwardly piled with her should-be-readings: course packs, journals, and a couple of sociology books. But on the little table next to the chaise was what was no doubt occupying most of Ana's solo reading time: a small tablet, set out beside a little battery powered vibrator, sleeping away in its charging cradle.
This little spot more than anything else made the fantasy complete. Here he could force her to narrate her favorite fantasies, walk him through her family history, show how she made herself cum, or even have her explain her area of study if for some reason he suddenly took interest in it.
Afterwards, he thought, descending the stairs, he could enjoy a long slow blowjob, or spank and fuck her savagely over the chaise. Or he could simply leave her tied up while he attended to other matters. And then when he was done, he could dispose of whatever artifacts didn't suit her new purpose. He doubted the course packs would survive the winter.
Seeing Ana's current state, it was hard to imagine her fighting any of it. She knelt where he'd left her, pale and slumped forward, her head resting against Byron's knees as the man thumbed through a paperback, apparently oblivious to her plight entirely. As Dane approached, the man pushed her upright with his foot, until Dane caught her by the hair.
"Took you long enough," he grumbled, standing and stretching.
"How did she behave?"
"Decent throat on Swallows here, but the attitude could use a lot of improvement," he said, walking off towards the downstairs bathroom. "Watch her."
Dane shook his head, smiling to himself. She'd never know it, but this was probably the most lavish praise he'd ever heard Byron use in front of a new girl. He'd even given her a nickname to commemorate what must have been a truly impressive blowjob.
Dane squatted in front of her, watching her morosely slurping on the plug gag. She looked exhausted, her hair in disarray, and drool dripping down her chest despite her best efforts. He had the strange sensation of wanting to wrap her up, hold her, comfort her, just to feel her gratitude and relief.
But he knew what "watch her" meant. Despite all appearances, a rebellion was brewing in the bedraggled slave girl. And he was going to provoke it before she had any more time to stew. She was meant to be his, and even her disobedience would be under his command.
"I see what he means. You can't stop sucking, can you slave? I love a girl who knows her calling."
She tried not to react. But he could see her belly tense, and hear a little angry murmur behind the gag, spilling saliva between her tits. He ran his fingers through it and almost wiped them on her face, but thought better of it when he noticed a streak of cum. Instead, he wiped them off in her hair. Dane was glad he'd put on a thick rubber apron over his clothes — the sort a dog washer might use. This was about to get messy.
"You're a filthy little whore, aren't you?" Dane said rhetorically, circling around behind her. He grabbed onto her harness with one hand, and her hair with the other and pulled, ordering Ana to stand up.
It was easier said than done. She whimpered and struggled to stand when he pulled her hair, but her legs were weak and, kneeling without use of her hands, she had no leverage.
The dildo squished as it slowly slid out of her, a counterpoint to her quiet slurping around the gag. She'd made a mess, as he had expected she would, her saliva and natural lubrication streaking the floor around the suction cup dildo.
"Want to see what a mess you made?" he asked.
She nodded. Of course she wanted use of her eyes, even if he was only removing the blindfold to humiliate her. That meant her mind was probably more alert than her appearance would suggest. He removed the blindfold and, pulling her hair, directed her gaze towards the ground.
"A lot of owners don't like slaves with messy holes. You're lucky I like a slut who's constantly dripping. It shows me that you know what you're made for."
She immediately pressed her legs together and whimpered, angling her head towards the stairs. Dane remembered that it had been hours since she'd gone to the bathroom.
"You need to go potty, girl?" he asked.
"Mmm hmm, mmm hmm!" she nodded, looking towards the stairs.
He contemplated blindfolding her again, but she'd have enough trouble making it upstairs on wobbly legs as it was. So carefully, he half dragged, half led her up, and sat her on the toilet.
Her legs were shaking now, and she started leaning to the side almost as soon as he released her, moaning through the gag until he caught her by the gag.
"Piss, slave," he said.
She made a little whimper, motioning towards the door with her head.
"I'm not in the mood for games, slave," he said, pressing down on her lower belly. Her eyes grew wide at that, staring at him, then closing in defeat as her bladder was forcibly emptied.
"Better," he said, gently wiping her clean, then flushing the toilet.
Dane could tell something had shifted inside her at this latest indignity. She shifted her legs, as if preparing to dig her feet in when he tried to pull her off the toilet. He could have easily overpowered her, but instead he reached over and opened the door to the shower stall. He smiled as she sat up straighter and nodded, ready to stand on command. After a full day of sex slave training, it was always a safe bet that a girl would want a shower.
He carefully lowered her down into the bathtub, with her arms still locked to the harness at wrist and bicep. Then he tied a cord to her right wrist cuff and looped it around the railing behind her. He unfastened the wrist and then the bicep from the harness each time taking up the slack so that she'd have no opportunity to put up a struggle, then repeated the process on the left. Soon, she was inclined on the floor of the tub, with her arms tied behind her.
She looked up hopefully as he turned on the water, spraying her with the detachable nozzle. She immediately started to squirm and complain at the cool stream of water, and even more at the stiff brush he used to clean her body. Instead of punishing her, he'd just rearrange her as he saw fit and get back to work. A pinch here and a slap there, and soon, she understood the futility of rebellion.
Dane had decided not to crack down too hard on petty transgressions for the same reason he hadn't begun her training with a list of explicit rules and regulation — he wanted her to internalize the rules herself. If she avoided any major transgressions, she would have a relatively easy first day. If she rebelled, her rebellion would be put down quickly and cleanly. Either way, a major step towards adapting to her new occupation.
