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Li's Story Ch. 01

By: TheArcticFox



Li worked the shaft back and forth, faster and faster. Sweat sprung from her forehead and ran down her face as she struggled to increase her tempo still. It was a wailing crescendo towards the final climax. She could feel a thousand eyes on her: a stark black-and-white figure under blindingly bright lights that afforded her no shadow in which to hide. In truth, she only truly cared for one pair of eyes among the audience. He was watching most intently, eyes boring into her soul.

She felt a bead of sweat dribble down and fall from her chin. She ignored it. She had to be perfect tonight. This was her work, her art. Her grip on the shaft was slippery, but it was impossible to stop now. The tip shuddered to and fro inches from her face. 

At last the climax came. She gave one last glorious thrust before whipping the bow from the violin, and executing a graceful curtsey. The conservatorium erupted in applause. The stage lights finally dimmed and the rest of the orchestra glowed to life. Li felt herself blush with pride as the audience lavished her with a standing ovation. For a moment she saw him near the front, still seated. His face was still. He had noticed her mistake earlier. She curtsied again, towards him, and moved off the stage.

It was not long before the concert had ended, and she said her goodbyes to her colleagues. Half of them couldn't even pronounce her first name properly, and had taken to calling her "Li". She didn't mind. Most people had called her that since coming to the States, but it was a constant reminder that she was still an outsider to them. She didn't have friends amongst these people, not that that bothered her either. Not many people would understand the life she chose, and the fewer people who got close to her, the fewer awkward conversations there were likely to be.

She stepped out into the parking lot. It had rained during the concert and the air still had a crisp, fresh bite. His Lexus was parked under the nearest lamppost, his silhouette already at the wheel. She bowed her head and, walking as quickly as she could in her tight dress, made her way to the passenger door.

She was welcomed into the car with a waft of warmed air and the smell of his spicy cologne. His tuxedo cut a fine form: tight to his body and proudly displaying the tapering V of his torso. He gave a sideways glance and a half smile; just enough to tell her he was pleased at seeing her. For a while they said nothing as he guided the car through the streets. The engine purred under his commands, the gear stick compliant under his powerful hand. She loved the fact that this car had a manual transmission. He seemed so focused as he drove, managing the revs and the gears. Whenever he stressed the engine the entire chassis would thrum, sending a deep vibration up her spine and chills through her body. They stopped at a traffic light just as it turned red, and he finally broke his gaze from the road to appreciate her legs.

"That dress was a good choice for tonight. Exposes enough to make men want to see more, without divulging too much." He said, his voice deep and quiet. He had once said that if you need to raise your voice to get things done, you were saying the wrong words.

Li looked down. The dress was her favourite, simple though it was: tight, black, and strapless, ending halfway down her thigh. "Thank you Master. You chose it." He gave another half-smile in response, then slid his hand over her knee. It slowly crept down her silky smooth thigh. She bit her lip and took a wavering breath. It had been three days since she had earned her last orgasm. All she could think about was earning the next.

"You missed the C# in the second refrain."

"Yes Master. This whore is sorry, Master."

"You promised me a perfect performance this evening."

"Yes Master. This cum-stain knows she deserves to be punished, Master."

His hand started to drag the dress up her thigh, exposing more and more of her legs. In aching anticipation, she felt herself moisten at his touch. He still managed to do this to her after eight years. Her breath was ragged for a moment before she caught herself. She bit her lip and gripped the door handle until her knuckles turned white.

"Please Master." His hands pulled the dress higher, and she thrust her pelvis up to free the resisting material. She had lost underwear privileges last week. She was wet and exposed. "Please..." The light turned green. 

"You haven't earned it yet." He released her thigh and slammed the car into gear before gunning the accelerator down the empty road. Li was crestfallen, but knew better than to complain. She moved to pull her dress back into place. "No." That was enough for her, and she sat like that for the rest of their journey, exposed to any passers-by lucky enough to be at an opportune angle. 

The great, glistening towers of Manhattan eventually faded away to spires of tiny jewels on the horizon, and in time they reached a more luxurious, and far more private, area of New York. It was getting late, but there were still a few pedestrians out, some late-night romantics, some just walking the dog. They pulled to a stop at another traffic light. "Your breasts, expose them now." Without hesitation Li reached behind her back and undid the clasp, then pulled the top of her dress down, allowing her fulsome breasts to tumble out. 

Despite the warmth of the car's heater, her small nipples were hard enough to cut glass. Tiny gold studs glimmered on either side of them. To most slaves, she was told, a collar was the symbol of their submission. To Li, it was her nipple piercings. Although the exact jewellery was changed according to the need or occasion, so long as something was there, she felt fully owned. It had been Master who ordered her to get the piercings in the first place, and when Li did so without even a second thought that she knew that she truly was his slave. 

This was doubly reinforced when he sent her to have her breasts enlarged. She would not have complained even if the idea of resisting came to her. He had arranged for one of the top cosmetic surgeons in the country to attend to her, and being of Chinese birth, her suffering through adolescence had only rewarded her with a B cup size. Her body was the canvas where he did his work, and she now presented the passing world with perfectly formed, bulbous double-Ds. 

Although there were times of extreme pain, discomfort, and displeasure, she had never stopped being anything less than happy with their relationship.

Li left her thoughts as they turned down the road towards their home, a large colonial-era house with a ring of thick shrubs and a legion of tall trees to ensure privacy. Shrinking in the side-view mirror, Li saw a middle-aged man, and judging by his gaping mouth he must have been just at the right place to see everything. A thrilling rush filled her chest and put a mischievous grin on her face. She tried to hide it. This was supposed to be part of her punishment, after all.

Hardly a minute later they had driven up the winding drive to the garage. Once they parked, he exited first. She remained, waiting for orders, still exposed to the cold night. A few moments later he opened her door.

"Fetch the mail. Then go to the kitchen, and wait for me in your corner." Li got out and headed to the mailbox down the drive, the early spring air happily stripping the warmth from her skin. She retrieved two letters before starting her way back to the house, easily a five minute walk in her heels. Without thinking she checked the recipients of the letters: one for Xiaolian Hsu, probably her pay check, and the other for Master, Richard Hargrove. It didn't actually matter, she would give both to him and he would decide if she needed to know what was in the letters.

It hadn't always been like this, of course. When she had submitted to him eight years ago he almost immediately began to push her limits, taking more control of her while stripping her decisions away. At first she had resisted, but never actually protested. The fact was that she was happy like this, without having to make decisions, without having the burden of responsibility on her, beyond following his orders. It had hardly stunted her career. She had gone from a middling violinist floundering through a BA degree to Magna Cum Laude that was head-hunted by the New York Symphony Orchestra. 

By the time she entered the house, her body was covered in gooseflesh. She placed the letters on the entry-hall's table and, despite needing the toilet, went directly to her corner in the kitchen. She knelt down, bowed her head tightly into it, arched her back as she had been taught, and clasped her hands under her chin. While the kitchen boasted an array of only the best in domestic technologies, the floor was a simple white tile that was even colder than the air outside.

She remained there, stock-still. Some time ago she had remained in this pose for three hours, and had to relieve her bladder without moving a muscle. He had made her lick it up. Not a pleasant memory, but from then on she was far more diligent about her Kegel exercises. Fortunately, this time it was hardly a few minutes before his footsteps came up behind her. One of his large hands laid gently on an exposed butt-cheek and kneaded it lovingly.

"It is cold tonight. Let's warm you up. Stand up, remove your heels, and then sit down in the chair." For a moment Li was confused, but turned around and saw he had placed a heavy old wooden chair in front of the stove. The hot plates had been turned on to full power. He had a coil of rope in his other hand. She knew what was coming.

Without any ceremony, her arms and waist were tied securely to the chair. Her ankles were bound together, with a length of rope running around the stove's handle as a makeshift pulley. Li knew that Master was beastly strong for his deceptively lithe build. In his grip the rope might as well have been cemented into the wall. As he pulled on his end, her legs were lowered inexorably over the hot plates. 

The pain felt far away at first, an itching burn at the base of her heels. He pulled a little more, and the hot plates got closer.

"I told you during practice that you miss that note." He said while slowly feeding the rope towards himself.

"You did, Master." Despite herself, she tried to fight it. The muscles of her legs strained outwards. As toned and slim as she was, she lacked the strength to fight both him and the pulley effect. Her feet lowered, and the burning itch started to sear.

"Did I tell you practice that refrain more?"

"Yes Master." She huffed as she tried to control herself.

"Did you?"

"N-no Master."

"Why not?"

"Please forgive this slut, she was tired!" He gave the rope some slack just as tears started to well up in her eyes. 

"It was your debut tonight, Li. Your first solo performance at the orchestra and you had promised me it would be perfect. I and every member of orchestra, every member of the audience, knows you screwed up. Because you were tired." He pulled on the rope again, bringing her feet a fraction of an inch from the hot plate. The tension would not budge in his iron grip.

"Yes Master, this slave failed you. This whore failed herself. This cum-bucket deserves this, Master." Satisfied with her reply, he carefully measured her reactions, timing when to raise, and when to lower. Close enough and long enough to make her sob, to make tears trail from her eyes and splash onto the tile floor, to make her cry for forgiveness again and again...but just never enough to actually cook her flesh. In the short breaks between roastings, he slapped an ice wrap around her feet, cooling them and making sure that she would not be allowed to have any measure of adaptation to the punishment.

Fifteen minutes later, he was satisfied. Her heels felt charred, but it was just pain and there were no blisters or burns. She had expended every ounce of effort her legs could afford in her vain attempt to resist. He shut off the plates and untied her. After allowing Li a minute to relieve herself in the bathroom, he grabbed her firmly by the scruff of her neck and half-dragged her into the main bedroom and positioned her in front of a full-length mirror.

"Position two." Li immediately complied, standing with feet shoulder width apart, hands behind her back and clasping her elbows. With some measure of annoyance, he undid the last of the catches to her dress and tossed it aside. "Look at yourself." He pointed at her reflection, "Don't take your eyes away, and the only thing you are going to think about is your position. You are a slave, Li. You are a piece of property I own. You do not stop in a task when you are tired, or bored, or want to do something else. Is that clear?"

"Yes Master." He nodded and left her to her punishment. She was alone with her reflection, a five-foot-and-some-change Chinese woman with tear-streaked mascara running down her face, whose breasts didn't really belong to her. Even her body wasn't truly hers. Before they had met, Xiaolian had a certain pleasant plumpness to her. Not unhealthy by any measure, but she had longed to emulate the magazine covers and advertisements.

A few months after she had submitted to him, she had commented to Master how much she envied a certain porn star's physique, not simply incredibly slim, but also with a good muscle tone without any bulk. His reply was simple, "You will have that." And by God did he see to it that she would! Every morning saw her doing an incrementally intensive workout, and her diet could only be called Palaeolithic. Her will broke one day, and she binged on an entire custard pie. Overcome by shame, she resorted to shoving her fingers down her throat. Master had caught her in the act. It was the only time she had ever seen him truly angry. He could become annoyed or irritated as much as any man she had met, but that was an anger that only cooled after he had caned her to the point of scarring.

"If you want to look like that, Li," He had growled between strikes, "Then you will earn it. Otherwise it has no value." At the time, she thought that the horrid taste of vomit was already a high enough price to pay, but dared not say a word. That was a lesson that had stuck with her. Even glancing at a pastry or some other confection made her skin crawl at the memory of her caning.

As much as she tried to stay focused on her punishment, a near-meditative reciting of her status, her mind kept straying to her last orgasm. The more she tried to push the memory out, the harder it fought to take the centre position of her attention. It had been an exquisite experience. He had kept her on edge for hours, playing off pleasure and torture, teasing and indulging, before allowing her that sweet, sweet release. Without even realising it, she had closed her eyes and was gyrating her hips slowly. That was how he found her.

"I can't take my eyes off of you for a minute." He had a warm smile. Li knew she wasn't in trouble yet. 

She returned the smile without raising her eyes, "This is an unrepentant whore. She cannot help herself, Master."

"It is time for dinner." She obediently made her way to the kitchen and served the stew she had prepared in a slow cooker before the concert. One serving went into a plate, another into a plastic bowl. Carrying the plate carefully in both hands, she brought the plate to the dining room and placed it before Master. As was their protocol, she then moved to a corner of the room in his field of view, facing the walls, and stood there with her hands in front of her, head bowed, waiting to be called. She was still stark naked and was worried that she might have lost clothing privileges after the night's performance.

About half way through the meal she heard his voice again. "Attend." It was a simple command that allowed her to leave her corner and kneel by his side. Usually it was to refill his drink, or add spice or sauce. Tonight it was a different kind of service he desired. "Under the table, mouth only." 

Using her teeth, she opened his fly and pulled his boxers aside. His meat flopped out and she helped herself to a generous mouthful. Working strictly with her mouth and tongue as ordered, she kept her hands balled into fists, pressed into the floor between her knees. She felt his salty cock grow in her mouth. She blew it out and let it flop on her face as she playfully licked the underside, and worked down the base to his balls. She happily nuzzled into them, slowly drawing her tongue along the sack, enjoying the texture, revelling in his aroma.

"You may play with yourself." His voice came from above, "You will not orgasm." Releasing her fists, she eagerly stroked at her labia, teasing herself as she worked upwards to her clit. All the while she did not neglect her duty to him. Soon enough he was full and rigid, an unyielding staff which at that moment she would have done anything in the world to have inside her.

"Enough. Come out and get on the table." This was new. With great reluctance she stopped and climbed out from under the table. Master had moved the plate and cutlery aside and tapped the hefty oak dining table. "On your back. Legs apart." She clambered up and positioned herself as commanded. "Give me a show, my little toy." She slid her hands down to her clit, and enthusiastically stroked herself in large, rough circles. He sat back in his chair, sipped at his drink without letting his eyes wonder from her exhibition. Her breathing steadily increased, her hips writhed, her hands worked more vigorously. He drained his glass, put it aside, and then pried her wrists aside. He gorged himself with his tongue, slid his fingers into her, and deftly found her g-spot. 

The anticipation of the entire day had built up to this. Even in the midst of her violin performance, she couldn't stop her imagination straying to this moment. The stimulation pushed her to the finish line in record time, "Please please please, oh please Master! Let this whore cum! Let this little fucking whore cum!" Her toes curled and back arched as she fought to hold herself back, while every fibre of her being screamed "Forward!" A vein protruded from the side of her head she strained with all her might to keep herself under control. Fractions of a second before the point of no return, he whipped his hands over hers and pinned them to the table. She bucked, desperate to rub her throbbing clit against anything.

"What's this, my pet? You are still wearing your public piercings." He nodded towards her breasts, "Go to the main bedroom and put in the rings with the bells."

"No no, please Master! No!" He sat back with his half-smile.

"And when you've done you will eat from your bowl, and then you will clean the dishes."

"Fuck!" Li screamed out in frustration. His smile vanished. "Yes, Master." She said meekly before rolling off the table.

#

She stood at the basin, water steaming up into her face as she washed the slow cooker. He owned a dishwasher, but had never used it. Keeping everything spotless was among her duties. The tiny bells on her teats rang softly as her breasts jiggled to her vigorous scrubbing. Her long black hair dangled down, the tips dipping into the water from time to time, not that she cared at the moment. She was angry, although she would never admit that it was because of him. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she did not hear his footsteps behind her.

He glided his hands over her shoulders, and pulled her into him, pressing the back of her head into his chest. Despite everything, she felt herself relaxing. It was so rare that they actually just lay together, or held each other in an embrace. She wasn't even allowed in the main bedroom unless she was either cleaning or performing a task. The same went for his study; she had to kneel at the threshold and gently knock at the door if she required his attention. At bedtime, she almost always slept in a small, separate bedroom with a single bed whose mattress may as well have been made of concrete. If she had been really disobedient, she would be put in the cage for the night. It was a wrought iron affair hardly larger than she was, with just a thin layer of sawdust at the bottom as bedding. She hated the cage. It was in the garage where it got bitterly cold in the winter, and now that she had lost clothing privileges, it would be nothing short of arctic.


Li's Story Ch. 01



She looked up into his tanned, weathered face, giving the best puppy-dog eyes she could muster, "Please Master, this worthless whore begs a boon of you."

"And what would that be, my pet?" He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Let this cunt sleep with you tonight. She will behave from now on, she promises you."

"As you promised a perfect performance?" He raised an eyebrow, but his tone was more a tease than anything else. She didn't respond. "We will see. If you can finish the dishes without an orgasm, you may." It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, until he produced a bullet-shaped vibrator. It was the one with the remote control.

Soon enough, the vibrator was taped directly over her clit, and he seated himself up on the counter, manipulating the controls with expert precision. Li squirmed, crossed and uncrossed her legs, curled and uncurled her toes, tried every pattern of breathing she could, all the while trying to scrub off the last of the utensils.

"Don't forget to dry everything and put them away." Li only managed a whimpering groan as she struggled to limp across the kitchen, "And if you break a plate you will be in the cage tonight. Focus, Li!" That strengthened her resolve. Half-running, half-limping she packed away the last of the plates. She fell forward and gripped the counter top.

"Turn it off! Please turn it off Master, this fuck-rag is going to cum!" He let it run on for a few moments before slowly, very slowly, powering it down. Between the morning's particularly brutal workout, the stove punishment from earlier, and her frantic antics to control herself, her legs were utterly exhausted, and now she was shaking so much that she could hardly stand. He collected her in his arms and carried her to the bedrooms, his half-smile on his face.

"Does this meat have clothing privileges, Master?" She asked as they ascended the stairs.

"No. You are to be naked at all times. If someone is at the door, you have your dressing gown." Of course, 'gown' was a generous term. It was a flimsy, half-transparent garment that was just barely opaque over the nipples and crotch.

He laid her down on the massive four-posted bed. It was as soft as a cloud and liberally supplied with pillows and a feather-down duvet. All but one soft orange light had been turned off, basking the room in the gentle hues of a sunset. As he began to remove his tuxedo, Li could not resist pinching at her nipples. The bells gave soft jingles as she waited for him. She ground her hips into the bed in anticipation.

He came to her wearing nothing but his stiff erection. She was tired, exhausted, spent. But the prospect of finally being allowed her much-needed release spurred her on. He stood at the foot of the bed, so she crawled to him on all fours, head held low and nipples caressing the sheets. 

She cupped him in her hands, tenderly rubbing his balls and massaging his dick while running her tongue up his tight abdomen. He ran his hands over her back and into her long, silky hair, then gripped it tight and pulled her back from him. Her eyes fluttered with fear for an instant, until he swooped in and gave her a long, deep kiss. They pulled apart and looked into each other's eyes for a moment.

He had a way of looking at her. There was lust, yes, and a look of removed analysis, but there was, above all else, the look of appreciation...the admiration that might be in the eyes of a wine taster sampling a perfect vintage, or an art connoisseur seeing a masterpiece for the first time. She was an object, yes, but she was his most prized and treasured object in the world.

Suddenly he gripped her about the throat, and threw her towards the top of the bed. With animal ferocity he clamped his hands around her hips and dragged her back across the sheets. A second later she was helplessly impaled on his cock. He thrust hard, and he thrust deep. She was slick with desire.

He was in his mid-forties and had the salt-and-pepper hair to prove it, but he was in nothing but peak physical condition, ramming into her with such savagery that her breasts slapped together, sending the bells off in a tinkling applause. Her breathing became short, sharp gasps. She had been so close to climax for so long that it had become a painful throb. She whimpered under his assault, but for the world she wished to be nowhere else.

Li shut her eyes and held her breath. She had not been given permission to orgasm yet. She tried to escape the screaming urge inside of her. She tried to forget the feel of his hands on the small of her back, the smell of him that embraced her, the fall of his sweat on her skin, the mass of his cock filling her to the brim. She tried very hard.

"Stroke your clit." She slid her finger over the fleshy little pea, and rubbed it in vigorous circles as her entire cunt pounded up and down with his thrusting. There was no escaping it now; she was going to be sent to the cage in moments. Her fortitude crumbled and Li relaxed into the inevitable relief.

He reached forward, gripped her hair at the scalp, and yanked her back, increasing his tempo to a sprint, and commanded: "You may cum." Her reply was a long, low moan that got louder and raspier. Her fingers scrabbled impotently at the duvet as her eyes rolled back under the ecstasy one of the most intense orgasms of her life. For a moment she swore she felt her sanity crack. She crunched her eyes shut, gritted her teeth and gave an animalistic snarl as she squirted and bucked herself into Nirvana.

He released her hair, and she fell straight down into the duvet. Her body was shining, slick with sweat. Her left leg quivered in a spasm of pleasure. He pulled himself out, and lay beside her on the bed.

"Your work isn't finished yet, my pet." He gave his half-smile, and directed her towards his unspent cock. In a dreamy, half-aware state, Li smiled and obeyed. On all fours she crawled between his legs and sated herself on her own juices mixed with his pre-cum. Her head bobbed juicily, giving a pleased groan as she took him deeper and deeper into her throat.

"Hands behind your back." Languishing deep in sub-space, Li happily acquiesced to the order. He opened his legs wider, gripped her around the ears, and jackhammered himself down her gullet. Over the years she had lost some of her gag reflex, but the tears still welled up in her eyes, and she fought to keep her hands behind her back.

Sucking his cock was one of her favourite activities. Li knew how masterfully he measured her responses when she was getting fucked so that she would orgasm at the precise moment he wanted her to. Now he could focus his attention on his pleasure alone, and it was her honour to provide it to him. To serve him so fully, without regard for her own pleasure, was the ultimate fulfilment of her role as his slave.

He thrust himself as deep inside her as he could, and spewed out his cum into the back of her throat. She coughed and half-choked on the sticky, salty goo, but managed to swallow it down while keeping him deep inside her mouth. He finally released her ears and eased into the soft bed.

"You may relax." He sighed, still breathing hard from his effort. She brought her hands around his hips, but still held his cock inside, and nuzzled down between his thighs for a few minutes. The urge to cough and retch eased as his manhood finally subsided. 

"Come here." Reluctantly she let his meat slide from her glistening lips, and crawled up to lay her head against his chest. He held her in a gentle embrace, "Trying to score some brownie points?"

"This slitty-eyed bitch has performed poorly today, Master, but she hopes to earn the right to clothing again soon." He smiled down at her and brushed aside a lock of raven-black hair that had stuck to her face with sweat. He traced the edges of the eye liner and mascara that smeared down her cheeks through the evening's ordeals. He brushed her full, juicy lips. 

"It is your birthday tomorrow, my dear. Twenty-eight candles, if I remember correctly. What does my pet want?"

"This meat-bag has everything desires, Master." She murmured as the exhaustion of the day caught up with her, sleep pulling at the edges of her consciousness.

"I think I have a perfect gift for you. We will do something special tomorrow evening." They fell asleep entwined in each other's arms.

#

The next morning after Li had served breakfast and Master had left for his office, she returned to her daily duties. The entire house was to be vacuumed, dusted, and polished every day. It was monotonous work that allowed Li to fall into a semi-trance, being fed a constant trickle of dopamine as a reward for serving Master. When he returned from work she would be sent to her corner in the kitchen, and he would inspect every nook and cranny for dust. Then he would inspect her for cleanliness. Dust, dirt, or odour in the house or on her would be punished, while cleanliness was rewarded. Depending on her desire during the day her performance would vary greatly. A tin of coffee that was "accidentally" knocked over and ignored would lead to at least a heavy flogging, and would fulfil the masochistic thirst growing in her today.

Alas, she wished to earn back her wardrobe as soon as possible, and so would forgo any such mishaps. Not that she minded being naked, but she was not particularly fond of answering the door in her muslin gown that all but slapped public indecency laws in the face. In fact it might just do that. Her ass was exposed except for the transparent material. She once had to accept a FedEx package in that gown. The deliveryman seemed to get the wrong impression, and Li had to shove him out of the door.

She worked naked, mostly. He had ordered her to wear the sheerest pair of high-heeled shoes she owned, practically ballet boots, and of course the little bells that rung from her nipples as she worked. She cleaned the study and main bedroom first and the quickest. It always felt as though she was trespassing in those rooms. Even when Master was there, she felt like she needed to scurry out as quickly as possible.

Their dungeon was in the basement. There they stored the canes, riding crops, electrodes, and other implements that blurred the line between pleasure and torture in a giddy whirlwind of sensation. She was not allowed down there without Master's supervision. He held the key to the doors, and would allow her in to clean only once she and the house had been inspected. More than once Li had had to clean her own blood off of a cane. The coppery smell sent shivers down her spine.

Soon enough it was lunch time. On occasion Master would call the house and tell Li to deliver a meal to his office. Less than a week ago he had eaten sashimi straight off of her body. The one-way glass walls of his office opened out to the broker's trading floor. A hundred unknowing eyes had passed over her exposed flesh that day. The memory of it still made her drench her thighs.

There was no phone call today. Instead it was the sound she had been dreading. The doorbell. As quickly as she could in her absurd shoes, she hurried to the entry hall and slipped on the gown. Taking a deep breath to brace herself, she opened the door to a...police officer.

The young man stood with his mouth agape. His eyes weren't sure where to look. If his skin had not been black it certainly would have been maroon. Li felt herself blushing enough for the both of them.

"This...I'm sorry. I was expecting someone else." She stumbled through her words and crossed her arms across her breasts.

"Uh...excuse me ma'am. Would you like a moment to dress into...into something a little more, well...more?"

"N-no, that's okay." She would have loved to, but would never have dared, "What can this s- what can I do for you, officer?"

"I am looking for a er... Ms. Zee-ow-lee-ann Hsu." The officer decided to stare at some point at the top of Li's head.

"Xiaolian, yes."

"Please pardon me, ma'am."

"That's okay. Most people get it wrong and just call me Li anyway. What's this about?"

"Ma'am...I have some very bad news. You are listed as the emergency contact for Richard Hargrove. And I'm sorry but...there's been an accident."

"What?" Li's heart stopped.

"Ma'am, you may want to sit down." Li shook her head dumbly in response, "Mr. Hargrove, ma'am, he died on the scene. A truck skipped a light and-"

Li would never remember what the young police officer said next. Her world fell away.



Li's Story Ch. 02



"It's not like you were married." Those words tore her heart out and left her feeling dead. They were sprayed out by some cow, the wife of Richard's younger brother, Theo. How could any of them understand? Eight years she had belonged to him. Every day he had imposed his will on her, shaping her, conditioning her. It had been nearly a decade since she had so much as chosen what to wear for the day. Not fucking married!? She wanted to scream. Instead, she sat with her hand her laps, eyes lowered, through the entire painful process.

Theo had got the house. Not that he needed it, being an investment banker like Richard, but it had been in his family since it had been built. She was so distracted that she didn't even worry about what he would think when he went into the basement. Li had been awarded all of Master's liquid assets, after taxes, debts, and a plethora of fees that the lawyer explained but Li didn't listen to. It worked out to seven hundred thousand dollars, or near enough that it didn't matter. Everyone in the room but Theo gave her a scowl, and she could practically hear all the insults they wanted to throw at her. Gold-digger. Tramp. Whore. Li kept her head down and tried to hold back tears.

At the end of reading of the will, everyone quietly filed out of the office. Li stayed seated, staring down at her hands. She realized Theo was squatting down beside her, holding on to the armrest. She looked down into his watery eyes, his male pattern baldness, and the look of concern on his face that bespoke an honest kindness. The milkman's son, if Master was anything to go by.

"I uh...I know we haven't spoken much." Theo began, "And I can't say that I approve of...of whatever it was you and my brother had. But you made him happy. He was always driven, you know? Always the stoic bastard." He managed a wavering smile, "Ever since we were kids. But I swear the first time I saw him so much as grin was when he was with you. And I...I just want you to know that I want to honor that."

Li shook her head, "What do you mean?"

"I know it sounds like you've got a lot of money. But it dries up really fast if you're not careful. We can place that money in a diverse portfolio with some blue chips companies and well...in a few years you'll be provided for."

"Provided for?" Li sniffed, "I don't even have a place to live!"

#

Warm autumn sunlight cut through the venetian blinds, leaving slashes of glowing dust motes floating in the motel room's air. The light finally came to rest on a bundled up eiderdown. Eventually the bundle shifted and moaned. A slender arm reached out to the nightstand and scrabbled for a wristwatch. The arm retracted back into the bundle. The bundle grunted, and sat up. The eiderdown peeled away, and Xiaolian shrugged herself out of her cocoon.

Her raven-black hair tumbled down to her shoulder blades, splayed out and getting a little greasy. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. Clothes lay wherever she had discarded them the night before. A loose stocking was draped over a calendar on the nightstand, obscuring all but the "Octo". She stared at it for a little while. How long had it been since the accident now? Four, five months? Damn it, who cared? She scowled at herself as she slipped out of her panties, that and a small, tight vest were the only things she wore to bed last night. Or rather, the things she did not bother to take off.

A memory floated up to her mind, unbidden. It had been the same pair of underwear she wore, the black frills and red edging was an unmistakable feature in her wardrobe. Master had that same half-smile of his. He was teasing her, sliding the panties down her shiny, smooth legs, caressing the tone of her muscle as he did. He changed direction, started to move them back up to her hips, used them as a bridle to gently guide her to him. Laughing, kissing. He pulled them down again, entangling her ankles with them.

Li caught herself, she was flushed and half gasping, half sobbing. In an attempt to distract herself, she got down on to the floor, hooked her feet under the bed, and started doing sit-ups. For years a rigorous workout had been the first thing she'd do upon awakening. Now that Master was gone though, the regime had become a flickering shadow of its previous intensity.

Li kept going. Minutes ticked by. She grit her teeth against the searing anguish as her abdominal muscles wailed with each contraction. She wanted it. She wanted that white-hot agony. But she could never give herself enough, and it was never the same, not without Master. Finally, Li let herself collapse the floor when her muscles cramped up and refused to take any more. After a lying on the floor, panting for breath, she grabbed the edge of the nearby desk, and hauled herself to her feet.

Her laptop was still open, although powered down. She hit the button that sprang the device to life. She may as well see if there had been any responses to her post.

It had been a difficult thing that, finally accepting she needed to try to move on. It had been impossible at first. When the young police officer first told her what happened, she entered into a world of the unreal. She had told herself she would wake up, or it would be some sick joke, anything but the reality.

While the computer was sorting itself out, Li tugged off her vest and tossed it on the floor before making her way to the bathroom. The full-length mirror greeted her on her way in. The difference to her physique over the last few months was noticeable. Once, she could have been smelted from copper, but the muscular valleys and hills had softened and disappeared. She had gotten soft, yet still managed to offer a weak smile to the mirror, the muscle may have been lost, but at least she managed to avoid any fat. Her breasts were the same perfectly formed orbs they had been before...little bigger perhaps, by the recent tightness of her bras. It looked like she was edging into E territory.

For the first moments in the shower, Li thought about Richard -- about Master. Some things he had done had left a permanent imprint. The breast enhancement was physical evidence of one. Others had faded with time. Her hard six-pack had given way to a soft hollow, but how many others were there that could not be seen?

Li became very aware of the droplets running down her body. Trickling down her cheeks, clinging their way down her throat, caressing skin, rounding her tits, teasing her nipples. She bit her lip. She needed this. Despite everything that might leave a mind in turmoil, there are still instinctive drives that had to be answered. But not quite yet. She lathered up her hands, and stroked her calves, rubbing in gentle circles up her legs. Her hands weren't her own. With her eyes closed she could imagine Master in there with her. It was his hands, she told herself. He worked up, and up, and up her thighs. With inches left to her womanhood, the hands parted and fondled her hips and the arch of her back. Creamy suds slid down on a warm current of moisture, clean kisses that slipped down the curve of her ass, slithering into the cleft, tickling the hot center of her passion.

She couldn't take anymore. Li seized the shower's nozzle, unhooked it, and greedily brought it to bear on her cunt. She propped one foot up against the wall, and rocked the nozzle back and forth. She gave little gasps of pleasure, but wanted more. Much more. She grabbed the soap in her right hand and awkwardly lathered it up, her other hand ensured hot pulses hit just the right spots. Her fingers slid in easily, and made sure she was scrubbed clean, inside and out.

"Mmmm..." She moaned with a grin spreading on her face, "Just like that, Master." She started to reach her climax. She needed this. She needed this. She needed permission to orgasm. "Come on!" She yelled at the ceiling, banged her head back against the wall, and thrust the nozzle right against her flesh. She needed this! As though it had a will of its own, her hand stopped. The nozzle lifted and pointed down at her feet. With an incoherent cry, she spun around and slammed her palm against the wall.

By the time Li had gathered herself to try again, the geyser had run cold. She quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. Soon enough she had wrapped herself in a fluffy cotton towel, breasts exposed as Master had preferred, and sat at her laptop, trying to sift through her inbox overflowing with responses from her post the night before. She read aloud from a few messages.

"Let's see... 'KNEEL BITCH, AND WORSHIP MY COCK!' Ha, whatever loser. Your caps lock is broken. Next. 'Yo baeb, 4sho u iz hot. letz hook up 2 c if-' No." The more messages Li poured through, the more annoyed she became. She was tempted to quickly hit "delete all", but maybe there were one or two genuine Masters out of the hundreds she would have turfed out. Maybe. But the problem was that Li wanted what she had before. Not to neatly slot into someone's opening between dinner and nightly masturbation. Li scolded herself. If she wanted more than that she would have to go out and actually meet people. Not that it was that easy. What percentage of people are really interested in BDSM? What fraction of those were Masters? What fraction of that fraction were the kind she wanted? Over the last month or so, a string of languid suitors had presented her with a pessimistic estimate.

Eventually Li replied to a terse message that insulted her intelligence the least and was surprised to see he replied back within a few minutes. For a moment she wondered if that was bad sign but it slipped from her mind while dressed in a rather skimpy white dress and a pair of white high-heel shoes. After a moment's consideration, she chose simple gold rings for her nipple piercings. She hadn't bothered to go clothes shopping in a long time, so her entire wardrobe still bore the marks of Master's tastes and decisions. What really bothered her was that she kept hearing Master's voice before putting on each article of clothing, as though he was still choosing for her.

While fumbling through the detritus in her room she uncovered her cellphone. Three missed calls. Two were from the director of the orchestra. Her 'compassionate leave' must have long been over by now. The third was Tyra, a cello player, who turned out to be an unexpected friend. The director had said those fucking words: "you weren't married". The conductor had stood by and nodded dumbly. Somehow Tyra had found out, and had brought down a wrath that was worthy of an old testament God. She had sworn to have the entire orchestra march out in protest, to have a demonstration on the steps of the conservatorium catered with Molotov cocktails. Li would have to at least call her back.

Tyra picked up on the first ring, "Jesus Li! Where the hell have you been?"

"I-what? I dunno. Just been touring I guess. Sightseeing."

"The director's been trying to get a hold of you. You need to get back asap."

At first Li just shook her head without thinking, "I can't. Not today anyway. I've got date."

There was a long, cold silence. "Are you fucking kidding me? You realize we are going to be playing in Prague next month right? You've missed every practice since...since...well in six months."

"I know, I know. I've been trying to deal with-"

"And you said you have a date, sounds like you've sorted yourself out."

"I haven't-" Li's voice was barely a squeak.

"Li. If you don't make Monday's rehearsal, you are going to be dropped from the orchestra."

#

Li's car whispered down the avenue, the overarching trees so orange they could be on fire. The car was a Lexus of course. It was a similar model to Master's, automatic though, as she never could get the hang of changing gears and managing the clutch.

She pulled up at the small bar where she had arranged to meet mister Internet. It was a mock-up of a log cabin, like everything else in this small New England town. Probably to hook in the tourists. Li had wandered in from New York a few weeks ago. She had been hopping from motel to guesthouse to B&B around the east coast without any real destination in mind. But there was something endearing about this little place. Maybe it was the simpler, more down-to-earth nature of the people, or maybe it was just that there was nothing here to remind her of the city she had left behind.

The bar had the warm dusty feel of sunsets in late August. Despite it being almost empty, she still had to wait to be served. The staff apparently had embraced the lethargic ambience, but Li folded her hands in front of her and waited patiently. A few other people were lounging at the bar, casually dressed and chatting amongst themselves. One rather handsome man from among the throng gave her an appreciative glance. She returned it with a shy smile as she paid for her drink. He looked young and well-muscled, but it wasn't the man from the e-mail. He had said he'd be wearing a plaid shirt (of all things) and that young stud was in a white turtleneck sweater and leather jacket.

She found a seat in a dim, secluded corner of the bar and carefully sipped at her glass of wine. After a brief scan of the room and not finding any sign of plaid, she fell into her own thoughts. It was Saturday night, and she would have to be back at the conservatorium by Monday afternoon at the latest. That gave her plenty of time for the date, even assuming things went orgasmicly well. Why the hell was Tyra so snappy?

She was so busy pouting to herself she almost didn't notice someone taking the seat across the table from her. She raised her eyes to what could only be called a tank made of flesh. The man's upper arms were the size of her thighs, his barrel chest strained at the buttons of his plaid shirt, and his forearms were thickly covered in coarse wiry hair. His face was as square and hard as an anvil...well, an anvil with a beard, but it was at least neatly trimmed. Two arctic blue eyes looked at her with an unnerving intensity.

"Li." He said in way of greeting.

"How did you guess?"

"Do you see any other Asians in this bar?" He cocked an eyebrow.

She gave a polite laugh, "No, I guess not. You must be Greg."

"Gregory." He corrected. His eyes hardly blinked. He felt like he wasn't actually looking at her, but rather through her. That she wasn't even worth acknowledging any more than a housefly. "You told me what you are looking for already, and I don't care." Li felt taken aback. The half dozen or so men she'd spoken to about her proposal had almost bent over backwards to accommodate her. "I will do my thing. When I am finished with you, you will say thank you."

Li had a strong compulsion to throw her drink in his face, to slap him, to call him names, or at the very least to storm off from this borderline psychopath. That was what her mind told her anyway. But there was something in his voice, some deep timbre just beyond the range of hearing that set her heart going. Master had had the same quality. It made her feel physically weak and small, and any effort to resist so much harder. That, and her memory of the morning's shower and fifty incidences like it over the last few months made her decision for her. Eventually she managed to reply in a feeble voice, "We don't know anything about each other. It's a bit sudden...a bit fast."

"I already know everything about you that I care to know. And I am not going to waste my night sharing stupid small talk before we get to what we both know you want."

"I...I would feel better..."

Gregory gave something of growl and looked at his watch, "Five minutes. Ask whatever you want, and don't be stupid."

Li gave a quick nod, "Can I at least know your full name?"

"Gregory Baines."

"Mine's Xiaolian Hsu." She dropped her eyes, "But you don't care. Um...what do you do?"

"Carpentry. I own a couple of hardware stores in town as well." Li looked down at his hands that could double as sides of hams. The skin was thick, and there was still a little grease caked under his fingernails.

"How did you get into that?"

"My grandfather taught me. It's been the family business as far back as anyone can recall."

"See? We're having a conversation!" She smiled brightly, but he just narrowed his eyes. She felt herself shrink. Get away, Li. Some wiser part of her said.

"I am getting bored with this bullshit." He stood up, bashing the table with his tree-trunk thighs so hard that it toppled Li's drink. She caught just in time, saving her white dress from a career-ending stain.

"Jesus!" She snapped. That caught the attention from the throng at the bar, but no-one moved.

"If at any time you want me stop, all you have to say is 'I want to go home'. Do you understand?" He said.

She looked up at him, a little confused, "What? Do you mean like a safe-word?"

"Do you understand?"

She gave a timid nod, "If I want you to stop, I will say 'I want to go home.'" Gregory secured his hand around her upper arm and, with hardly any effort, dragged her along behind him. She had trouble keeping up in her heels, each step wobbling as his mass threw her off balance. They were halfway out of the bar when the handsome lad from earlier stepped into Gregory's way.

"Hold on there, big fella." The young man looked nervous, but he planted his feet and wouldn't budge, "The lady over there doesn't look too happy right now."

"Piss off." Gregory snarled.

"I ain't going nowhere. Ma'am, are you okay? Is this guy bothering you?"

Gregory towered more than a foot and a half over the valiant fool. She didn't know anything about fighting, but she knew who would probably win between the two of them. "It's okay." Li managed in a barely audible voice, "I want to go with him."

"Piss. Off." Gregory shoved the man aside and continued his march out of the bar, Li in tow. "My car is over there-" Li began.

"It'll be fine for the night." He said as he led her to his pick-up truck.

Li was increasingly alarmed as they left the city limits and drove down a road deep in the forest. She sunk back into the seats, awfully aware of how small she was. So long as he didn't speak, she could wrestle control of her urges and think more clearly. Although all she could think about now was how bloody stupid she had been.

They turned off the tarred road down a dirt lane, deeper into the thick forest. Oh hell, was he some serial killer about to slice and dice her?

"Where, uh, where are we going?" She tried to smile at him.

"To my home." Ah shit, there was the voice again. "I told you, I'm a carpenter, and I prefer to cut my own lumber."

"That doesn't sound economical."

Gregory gave something between a sigh and a growl, "I do commissioned pieces. What I do is more artwork than manufacturing."

As they turned a corner, the pick-up's headlights flashed to life a rather spacious looking lodge in the clearing of the forest. A rather out-of-place satellite dish poked out of the roof, breaking the rustic charm of the place a little. The garage was massive, and as the pick-up pulled into it, she saw that it was littered with sawdust and planks of wood. Propped up against one wall was a set of barbells so large that they probably had their own gravitational pull, on the other was a menagerie of tools neatly arrayed. Li wondered if she could name even two of them.

Gregory got out and made his way into his house. Li fumbled at her seatbelt when she realized he wasn't going to give her any orders to do so. She flushed at her own absent-mindedness. Gregory isn't Master. She reminded herself, vaguely aware that she had been unconsciously comparing the two all night.

She followed him into a darkened living room. She couldn't make out much; the only light was spilling in through a door left ajar, leaving everything else as stark silhouettes. His powerful form was framed by the light.




Li's Story Ch. 02



"Hurry up." He muttered. Li obediently came towards him. With each step her heart beat a little faster. It was fear, mixed with a long-unsatisfied arousal. He may not be Master, but he had that same effervescent aura of domination about it him. If he allowed her to orgasm, she would do so happily.

Through the doorway was his bedroom. A massive bed with an oak frame took up most of the space. It was larger than a king-sized bed by far. It must have been one of Gregory's own projects. A few photos hung from the walls. Li only afforded them a quick glance and saw people in military fatigues.

"Stop." Gregory laid his hand on her shoulder, engulfing it, and spun her to face the wall, "Hands behind your head." Li obeyed, "What do you say when you want me to stop?"

"I would say 'I want to go home, sir.'"

Gregory smirked, "Sir, hm? Haven't heard that in a while." He stepped closer to her. She started to turn, "Don't move!" He snapped. The power of his voice made her tremble, and meekly kept staring at the wall. His hands found their way around her upper arms, lightly exploring their shape. There was a gentleness Li hadn't been expecting. His touch slid down to her shoulders, cupped her lats, sunk into the inward dip of her waist, rode up the crest of her pelvis. She unconsciously ground her hips under his caress.

"I said still." She froze. His hands drew along the small of her back, retreating to just the tips of his fingers, then slid back to caress the fine curve of her ass. He left a hand to linger there, a thumb massaging into the cheek. "You were candid on your post." He spoke quietly into her ear, but she could hear that he was restraining himself, "But it's easy to be brave behind a screen. What did you call yourself? Say it."

"A cock hungry whore, sir."

"Are you?"

"Yes sir. I am a cock hungry whore. I love to suck dick. I love its smell. I love the feel of it in my mouth, sir."

"But that is not why I chose you, whore. Cocksuckers are a dime a dozen. What else did you say?"

"I said I was looking to submit to a Master, sir. To obey orders. To serve, sir."

"I can get a maid." His free hand reached around and grasped at her breasts, "You've had surgery on your tits, haven't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Fucking whore. You had your body cut up to be a better fuck toy."

"I did sir."

His hands moved up to the nape of her neck, and undid the clasp to her dress. "Take it off." Li obeyed. It fell to a pile around her ankles. She returned her hands to behind her head. Her heels, a pair of stockings, a garter belt, and a bra were all she had on, the white a striking contrast to the tone of her skin. A few drips glistened down her inner thighs. "No panties, whore? Your cunt was exposed all day."

"I-I like it like that sir. It makes me feel..."

"Say it."

"Like a worthless tramp, sir. Open to the world to use."

"And you have nipple piercings too?"

"Yes sir. Please sir, play with them."

His hands seized her around the throat, "Listen to me carefully slut: I don't care about being your goddamn master. I don't give a shit about your needs or wants. And I definitely do not need the responsibility of a whining little bitch crawling after me. You want to be used? Fine. You want to be a worthless sack of meat? You've come to the right place. I don't want a slave. I want a sex toy that can cook." She could feel the hot rage barely restrained in his words. Li struggled to turn her head to see him. Her eyes had blossomed with tears under the sudden shock of his grip around her throat.

"I understand sir."

He deftly removed her strapless bra as he spoke, and her ponderous tits flopped out of their confinement, "Do you want to go home?"

"No sir." She hadn't finished speaking when he suddenly hurled her towards the bed. She caught herself against the oaken footboard.

"Work your cunt." Bent over the bed, she ever so lightly let her clit taste the texture of her fingers. She was surprised at how slippery it was. So naked, so exposed, so vulnerable to that beast behind her...she couldn't remember the last time she was so fucking horny! Her initial tentative circles became more vigorous, and her entire ass swayed from side to side, waiting for him to ram himself deep into her. From the corner of her vision, she saw his shirt sail through the air into the corner. She heard the unmistakable sound of a leather belt being undone and slithered off. The last time she had heard it had been when Master was preparing to belt her. Her skin twinged under the sudden desire for pain. She had to fight it back down. Under their tryst's pretext, she had no right to ask for anything. She wasn't even a slave. She was a thing Gregory was going to use. And she had to thank him for it afterwards. God damn it, what was taking him so long?

He gripped a thick handful of her hair and tore her away from his bed. She teetered precariously on her heels, trying to find her balance. He didn't give her a chance. He turned her towards him, and she saw him naked for the first time. He wasn't just bulky: his muscles were rock-hard. He could easily put an 80's action star to shame. His entire torso was a massive, rippled V. Master had been lithe, reminding Li of a snake, but for Gregory, a bear...a tank...nothing did him justice. He pulled her down to his cock, as enormous as any other part of his body. Li felt fear again. Master had been six and some inches, and that was more than enough to hurt her when he wanted. This...this leviathan could be used to club goats to death with.

Without realizing it, she had been trying to resist his pull. He was not happy about it. He stepped back at the same he yanked hard on her hair. She fell to her knees and sprawled forwards. He thrust his hips right into her face.

"Open your fucking mouth." With one hand still gripping her hair, the other clasped her jaw and pulled it open before force-feeding his long cock down her throat. She had to open so wide her mouth hurt. The sudden deep invasion left her choking. "I thought you were a hungry whore!"

"Please sir, it's been a while since-" He thrust into her mouth again. She didn't dare close up on him and kept her hands busy by eagerly stroking her pussy, just in case she did something stupid like resist again. There was an anger in him a blind man could see. It scared her, and yet at the same time its presence made her pussy twitch in delight. He gripped the back of her head with both hands and pulled her towards him until her nose touched his skin. He held her there a second, then slowly retracted, only to repeat again, and again. Li's face contorted in concentration as she tried to rap herself up in the pleasure of her own hands.

This wasn't the first time her throat had been fucked, but not only was the cock much larger, but her mind blanked on all the little techniques she had to make it easier on her. There was something about breathing, and rhythm, and doing something with your tongue, but it was either the fear or her lack of practice that put it all out of her mind. Instead she kept trying to remind herself that, tonight at least, she was not even a slave. She was an object, and that was all. A book does not complain when you tear it. A plate doesn't cry when you smash it. She was a meaningless object, and she would comply.

Those debasing thoughts shifted her pussy into overdrive. Her thighs may as well have been a waterslide. At last, with tears streaking down her cheeks he extracted himself. It still stood firm and erect, unspent. A caveman and his club.

"You enjoy that, whore?"

She gave in to a coughing fit, saliva and snot running down her face, "Thank you sir. I love eating cock sir."

"That you do." He growled, seeing the small wet patch between her knees. He yanked her aside and shoved her face into it, like an errant puppy, "Look what you did!" He roared, "Do you have any idea how much this carpet cost?"

"I'm sorry sir! I'm sorry sir!"

"I don't want your fucking stench all over it!"

"Please sir! I'm so horny! I can't help it sir!" She whimpered as her face crushed into her own juices. He roughly pulled her back up to her feet.

"Strip. Everything. Then on the bed and on your back where you belong, whore." Li obeyed. She laid back, her silky legs spread and exposed. He lumbered towards her, his cock swinging like an elephant's trunk, before climbing over her. He batted one of her legs wider before unceremoniously stretching out her cunt. Li gave a pained gasp and started to sit up. He pinned her at the throat. "Take it you worthless cunt."

"Yes sir. I am a whore sir." She bit her lip hard as he started his rhythmic assault. With a mind of their own, her hips raised up, eager to devour more, deeper. The force of his movements made her legs wobble about uncontrollably in the air. Before she even realized it, strong pulses of tingling pleasure washed over her body. "I'm going to cum! Please sir let me-" She clawed into his back and gave a frenzied cry as she climaxed while he continued to pump away, hardly acknowledging her ecstasy.

Li gave deep, desperate gasps as she rode the aftershocks of her orgasm with him fucking her. She was hit by a sudden surge of guilt. She had orgasmed for the first time without permission in years. She was crest-fallen and couldn't bring herself to enjoy being used anymore. She lay back, feeling like a fleshy rag until Gregory finished with her. He pulled out and squirted his hot load over her stomach and thighs. She couldn't bring herself to revel in the bleach-like smell, or for bringing joy to the one who dominated her. She deserved to be punished. She needed to be punished. Severely.

Gregory fell aside, coated in sweat from effort and was breathing raggedly. She looked up to his stern face, a scowl instead of the faint post-coital smile she had been used to. Li couldn't ask for him to hurt her. She knew that, but still felt guilty for her transgression.

He suddenly roused himself, planted a foot on her hips and shoved her out of the bed. She fell in a painful bundle on the floor. "Whores don't sleep on the furniture." He growled, and turned off the bedside light. They were plunged into darkness.

"But sir, it's cold!" A few moments later her white dress flew through the air and landed on her face. She clutched at it gratefully and used the skimpy outfit as a blanket. His cum was still messed on her, and she knew he wouldn't be happy if that fell on the carpet, so she stayed on her back. She was cold, uncomfortable, and with his juices drying on her skin. Li sighed. It would have to do. For now.

"Thank you, sir." She meant it.



Li's Story Ch. 03



The warbling of an unnamed songbird seeped into Li's dream. Slowly, reluctantly, she awoke. Sleep had been fitful throughout the night, not so much from the cold, hard floor as the terrible racket Gregory made as he ground his teeth in his sleep. 

Her first thought was that it was Sunday, and she had to be back in New York by tomorrow. Her second thought was to check that she hadn't rolled over at some point in the night and spilled anything on Gregory's expensive carpet. She pulled aside the dress she used as an improvised blanket and inspected the detritus from last night. Some had gotten on her dress, but luckily the rest had dried and hardened on her skin.

When she eventually got up to pull on her dress, and realized that he wasn't in the room. A glance at the alarm clock told her that it was pushing nine o'clock. Her first steps towards the door reminded her how savage last night had been. Li was extra tender today.

She entered the living room for what felt like the first time. The night before a combination of fear, darkness, and long unsatisfied lust had kept her from noticing anything about it. A large flat screen TV hung from the far wall, but she noticed the remote control on the coffee table had a thin layer of dust over it. Next to the controller was a well-thumbed special interest magazine on...huh...scuba diving. A series of staccato bangs from the garage told Li that Gregory was working. She took the chance to look about a bit for more hints to Mr. Angry Stoic's character.

The walls were covered with more than three dozen photos. All of them were of men in military fatigues. Gregory was in every one of them. Some of the photos must have dated back by more than ten years, judging by his youthful glow and soft skin on his face. Most bizarre was the fact that he was actually smiling. It was a big goofy grin that showed most of his teeth. Everyone was smiling in the oldest pictures. Li guessed at the chronology of the pictures, based on wrinkles and the fade of the images. There were fewer and fewer smiles as they went on. Fewer and fewer soldiers too. The most recent-looking picture had the date scribbled in the corner. It was from two years ago. Four grimacing men squinted into the camera against the glare of a harsh desert sun. Four from the original twenty. Li hoped it didn't mean what she thought it did.

A sudden bang and accompanying shout shook Li from her musings. She hurried over to the garage door as quickly as her heels allowed her. Gregory was bent over his workbench, sweat dripped from his face while he cradled his hand. 

"Are you okay?"

"Fucking peachy." Gregory grimaced, "Hang on, I need to take care of this." He brushed passed her in the doorway. He smelled of freshly split wood with a hint of lacquer.

"Can I do anything to help?" Li offered.

"Yeah, I need another twenty logs chopped like those." He threw his head back towards the garage as he made his way towards the kitchen. Li looked back out. Just beyond the driveway an axe was embedded in a stump with a pile of logs beside it.

"But...my dress...it's expensive."

Gregory yelled back from the kitchen, "Then take it off, princess! It's not anything I haven't seen before!" Li obeyed. She quickly stripped off her clothes and made her way to the stump. The crisp autumn air was fresh on her exposed skin, setting off a wildfire of gooseflesh. At least she didn't have to step on the frost encrusted grass, as he had not said anything about her heels. She hefted the axe up, placed a log on the stump, and took a swing. She missed. Maybe she should take her heels off, but M...Gregory hadn't said so. She hefted it up again, more careful with her balance this time, and her swing struck home. In a few minutes she had split several armloads of logs.

Gregory came back into the workshop, his left hand bandaged up. Li saw the look of genuine shock on his face when he saw her, and how quickly he covered it up.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?" 

"I did as you told me, sir. Where do you want the wood?" Gregory vaguely gestured somewhere near his workbench, and then sat back to admire the view. Stockings, heels, garter, and bra. That was all Li had on her. She had preferred to go without any panties for the date last night, leaving her exposed to the forest. 

She could feel his eyes on her, and she couldn't resist giving a little show. Crossing her feet on every step as she went from the stump to the garage and back, bending down with legs straight and back arched to really advertise her rump. She hardly noticed the splintered wood digging into her.

"Why did you take off your dress?" He gathered her scanty outfit in one hand, thrusting it at her like an accusing finger.

"You ordered me to, sir."

"I was fucking joking! I told you, I am not your goddamn master!" In a few powerful strides he was outside, and hurled the dress among bushes. Li started to move to fetch it, he grabbed at her the throat and bodily dragged her back inside, "Here's a fucking order: leave it." He launched her backwards. She went teetering out of control and banged against the garage wall.

"This slut is sorry, sir."

"Shut up!" Gregory raged, "You! You are going home. Right fucking now."

"My car is still at the bar, sir."

"Stop calling me that! I'll drive you there, and then you can fuck off. I don't need this shit." He dug into his jean's pockets and fished out the keys to his pick-up truck.

"There will be bruises..." Li whispered.

"What?"

"B-bruises. There will be bruises on me...in me. If I-if-if I go and-" 

"And what?" Gregory pressed his face right up against hers, "And you go where? Tell people what?"

Li shrank back, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was talking about..." A few tears brimmed in her eyes.

"Jesus woman, what the hell is wrong with you?" Gregory stepped back and let her collapse down to her haunches. She wanted to ask him that same question, but thought better of it. Instead, once she had composed herself, they went to the couch in the living room and they talked. Or rather, she talked while he had a face set in steel.

She told him about her life, about growing up in Tianjin with her parents. How every minute of her life had been structured from the word go, and how she excelled in school, as a violinist, as a gymnast. She told him how she faltered when she came to the US on a scholarship, how she was nearly sent back, how Richard...how Master gave her back the discipline and structure she craved. How her sterling performance, thanks to him, won her a green card and eventually citizenship. She told him how happy she had been with him for eight years, how in love she was, and how they nearly got married. She told him how only her insistence on remaining a slave rather than becoming a family member had stopped that. She told him about the accident.

For the tiniest fraction of a second, Gregory's eyes flicked to the pictures on the wall at the mention of Richard's death. There was a miniscule change in his face after that; an ever so slight softening around the eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Gregory finally spoke, "You're clearly trying to fill the void, but I am not the person for that."

"You are!" Li blushed a little at how desperate she sounded, "I'm...I'm sorry. Maybe you're not. But you have this...this same quality that Richard had. I don't know what it is, pheromones or body language or just something in your voice. But I can't find something like that and ignore it!"

"So what's stopping me from just making you say that you want to go home?"

"If you're not a Master, how do you know about safewords?"

"Safeword my ass, little girl. I'm just not a fucking rapist. Now answer the question."

Li squirmed a little, "It...it would take a lot to make me say it."

"Right," Gregory stood up, "I'm getting your dress, then I'm taking you back to your car."

"Please! One day!"

"Fucking hell...last night was fun but I do not need this shit."

"Twenty-four hours is all I ask. if your mind's still made up, you won't hear from me again." Li pleaded. Gregory marched past her, but paused at the doorway to the garage. He spoke without turning to face her.

"Twenty-four hours? In that time I am going to teach a goddamn lesson you crazy bitch. I am going to make you scream that-that fucking... 'safeword'."





Li's Story Ch. 03



"So boys, we got her for twenty-four hours. What did you ever want to do to a meat-puppet?"

Dex spoke first with a devilish grin, "Well I got to see those tits. Just look 'em! Big enough to fucking burst. Take that shirt off." Without thinking, Li looked at Gregory. He nodded. She obeyed. It took a few moments and she heard the material stretch as it came off of over her head, but she eventually got it off. "Bra too. What's the problem? You shy?"

She was. In all her time with Richard, there had only been two occasion in eight years where they had someone else join them. Both times she had felt horribly awkward and taciturn. But now, as then, she obeyed. As she undid the clasp, her eyes glanced up at Ian. He was very still, very quiet. He even looked a little afraid. Somehow she found comfort in that. She unslung her bra and let it fall to the floor.

Ian finally spoke, "Cheeee-rist."

"Big 'uns eh?" Dex smiled, "Well if none of you're gonna taste I sure as hell am." He got off the couch and came right up close to Li. She looked up at Gregory and Ian. They were watching intently, neither of them were going to stop him. He cupped a breast with a hand and squeezed eagerly. "You like that?"

"Yes sir." Li let out a hot, shaky breath.

"Sir?"

"I told you already." Gregory grunted, "She's into that shit."

"Good. This'll be fun." Dex sneered as he grabbed her other tit, massaging them with his surprisingly strong grip. His tongue unfurled and lashed at the tips of her nipples. Li felt herself go red under his manipulations. She gave an approving groan as he opened his mouth and gorged himself on her full breasts. A hand slid down, over her ass then in between her cheeks and grasped up to her hot, wet centre. The other hand savagely yanked at her hair, "You like that, you yellow whore?" His voice half muffled by her generous flesh.

"Yes sir, I do." She shuddered as he bared pressure right down on her clit through her jeans.

He hastily undid the button and zipper to her jeans, and started to tug them off, "Fucking chink bitch. All you goddamn gooks-"

"Dexter!" Gregory's voice thundered loud enough to shake the picture frames. Dex pulled his face away from Li to face Gregory, but his hands stayed where they were. "Li, go fetch more drinks. There're some beers in the fridge." He quickly added as an afterthought, "And...fucking...crawl!" Li nodded and quickly sank to her knees, still panting. Gregory came up close to Dexter, the skinny man barely reaching up to his shoulder. "I don't want to hear any of that shit, Dex."

"You said-"

"I know what I said!" He glanced after Li as she turned into the kitchen, her tits swaying pendulously as she wriggled along on all fours. Dex had yanked her jeans down off her hips, and now they had worked their way loose, exposing the top half of her ass. The silly bitch was wearing a g-string. He growled something incomprehensible and turned back to Dexter, "We are not doing that. You got issues like that you can sort them out somewhere else with someone else. Got it?" Dexter tried to match Gregory's glare, but eventually broke away and nodded, resigning himself back to the couch.

"Anyway," Ian added, "Aren't gooks the Vietnamese?"

"Shut the fuck up lard-ass." Dex huffed as he folded his arms, "They're all the goddamn same anyway."

"We got all night, boys. Pace yourselves." As Gregory spoke, Li made her way back from the kitchen, still on all fours, biting into the plastic packaging of the six-pack to carry it. "Put those on the table, then kneel below the TV, hands on head."

Li quickly complied. As she moved to her position beneath the television, one of the three turned the volume up high. Over the blather of the news anchor she could hear the beer cans being opened and the murmur of discussion behind her, but she couldn't make out the details. Her pants had worked themselves low enough to expose her ass completely now. 

The sense of exposure was palpable. She couldn't see or hear anything, but she knew his eyes were on her, she could feel them, running over the curves of her body. Her ass trembled in anticipation. Dexter's hands had been so rough, yanking at her as he pleased with no thought of her. When Gregory fucked her the night before it had been hard and angry, pleasuring in her submission to him, but Dex's attention was self-centred and totally uninterested in her reaction. It was a whole breed of objectification she hadn't known before. Her hips squirmed excitedly at the abuse she was in for tonight.

The television went mute. "Bend over!" Gregory barked, "No, don't turn around! Move back if you have to, don't fucking turn around! Show us that ass of yours." Li had to shuffle back from the wall and pulled the g-string down before bending over. She did so in the manner that Richard had instilled in her: Breasts and forehead tight to the ground, lower back arched toward the floor, coccyx pointed up. This exposed her holes in the clearest possible manner for use or inspection. Her hands were folded just above where her head lay. Her jeans had worked down to her calves, restraining her legs.

"Cheeee-rist." She heard Ian breath, "You can see her dripping from here."

"Shit, I'm gonna plough that chi- that chick into the ground!" The couch squeaked as Dexter started to get up.

"Nah, hold on. Watch this." It sounded like he was speaking through a smile, "Slut, finger yourself." Li obediently took a hand and rubbed it eagerly against her saturated pussy. Gregory's tell-tale heavy footfalls approached behind her, "Don't stop. Keep doing it." He grabbed her jeans and ripped them free of her legs. The force was so much that she sprawled helpless against the floor. "Keep moving that hand! Don't stop! Back on your knees! Now!" The speed and ferocity of his orders left Li disorientated for a moment. Nonetheless she did her best to obey, bringing her knees back under her hips as her hand worked. His footsteps receded back to the couch.

"I wonder if she's any good at sucking cock. I bet she can take mine all down her throat." Dexter sniggered,

"Your little peanut? I'm sure." Gregory laughed.

"P-please sir," Li groaned, "I would love to suck all your cocks."

"Shut up, slut!" Gregory yelled, "We weren't talking to you." The three stared transfixed as Li continued to pleasure herself, her hips gyrating hypnotically, drips of passion snaking down her hand. Gregory loomed over her, watching, listening intently. As soon as Li's breaths became ragged, as soon as her hand started its racing crescendo, he barked the order: "Stop!" 

There was moment of hesitation from Li, an inward groan of annoyance that she dared not give voice, but she assented and moved her hand away, and brought it back above her head. She felt her pussy twitching, spasming, desperately seeking that last iota of stimulation she needed to be pushed over the edge.

Ian had been bent forward, trying to stretch his whole torso towards Li's rump for a better view. He sat back with a wavering sigh and mopped the sweat from his forehead. "Well, what should we do next?"

"I'll tell you what," Dexter sneered, "I'm going to show you boys how it's fucking done. I ain't getting sloppy seconds."

"Relax Dex, she has three holes and there's three of us. Math. It's useful. Ian, on your back here, you've got her cunt." Gregory pointed at the floor, "Dex, I know you're a dirty bugger so you take her asshole. And I want to see if that polite tongue of hers is any good wrapped around a cock." Dexter immediately started to rip away at the buttons of his shirt, a sharp smile on his face.

"Uh..." Ian blushed a deep beetroot, "I don't think...uh I mean I'll just hang back."

"Faggot." Dexter sneered as he happily pulled off his trousers, "You know why we're here, right?" Ian just shook his head and looked back at Li's ass, still on display, still glistening juicily.

"Fine. Dex, take her asshole." Gregory grabbed a thick bushel of her hair, and dragged her along as her legs splayed about trying to keep her balance. He sat back into a recliner, hauling her head into his lap. "Right bitch, show me how well trained you are. No hands, and I swear to God if I feel teeth you're going to regret it."

"P-please," Li looked back over her shoulder at Dexter, striding towards her with his stiff cock wagging at her with each step, "My pussy, please fuck my pussy! I'll do anything!" Gregory grabbed her hair again and yanked her to his crotch.

"You already will." He muttered.

"Come on, Greg. She asked nicely. Lemme plug her pink hole." Li's ass gave an excited wiggle as she pulled Greg's fly open with her teeth.

"No, this little slut has been spoilt enough already." Li nuzzled into Greg's open fly, work her way over and around boxers, to the thick sausage that was pulsating larger and larger under each touch. Dexter was behind her. She could feel the heat from his body, he was so close. Rough hands laid down on her ass-cheeks and zealously kneaded her flesh. Her pussy twitched and dripped in vain hope.

Dex's cock was coming. Any moment now. Shit, don't forget about Master! Li wrapped her tongue under the base of Gregory's bulky cock and lifted it free from his clothing. It'd been months since her asshole had been given a proper fucking. Dex's cock was going to shove home soon. Gregory! She licked tenderly up the long shaft. Anxious for approval, she looked up at his great big face. His jaw was clenched shut, but his eyes burrowed down into hers. Dex was coming.

Fuck! No poking about gingerly for him. He force-fed his entire cock into her asshole, which hungrily ate up all it could take. It was a small mercy that Dexter's cock wasn't of the same mammoth proportions as Gregory's. Li gave a sharp gasp; a sudden hard thrust shook her pussy so much as to push her just that much closer to the edge. Gregory slapped her face, "Cock goes in your mouth. Let me show you." He gripped her jaw and wrested it open, drilling his meat into her.

Ian mopped at his face again. He was intently watching Li. The paradoxical contortions of her face between pain and pleasure, the fervent moans as her mouth polished Greg's cock, the jiggle of her tits and ass under each of Dexter's surges. There was a surreal beauty to it that Ian just couldn't tear away from. The sheen of the sweat coating her body, the way the light reflected along her curves as she moved. Her beauty was striking when she first came through the door, it had punched the wind out of him, and now to see it so corrupted in such a...burlesque manner...he only wanted her more. 

Her eyes found his for a moment. Through the slightly smeared mascara they cried for him to join them. There was an insatiable hunger those eyes, the hunger of a woman who so fully embraced her sexuality that it had come to consume her. She wanted him. She wanted all three. She wanted to devour them in a carnival of lust. Ian just couldn't bring himself to move. There was hardly more than two yards between them, yet it lay a vast gulf.

Li's head rode up and down, just ever so barely able to bring his entire cock into her mouth, coughing and blinking away tears. It took all her focus and all her will to keep pleasing Master. Dexter filled her up to the brim, stretching her hole to its limit. Her tits bounced against each other under each stroke. 

She couldn't take it anymore. She was going orgasm any second. As she thought so, she heard the words she had been dreading: "Stop!" Gregory boomed. In one powerful motion he drew her head away from his cock, and threw her aside from the recliner, dumping her down to the ground. She coughed and gasped for air.

"What the fuck man?" Dexter yelled, "I was about to blow my load!"

"Not yet. I told you, the night is long. Go hit the head and clean yourself off!"

"That supposed to be an order?"

"Just fucking do it!" Again, Dexter was the first to break and stomped off towards the bathroom. Li was writhing on the floor, sweat dripping from every pore, doing everything she could to resist finishing herself off.

"Ian! Get off the couch and get some of this. I need a minute."

Ian blushed again and vigorously shook his head, "N-no, I can't. Maybe later." Gregory looked like he was going to yell something but eventually nodded.

Li gripped at Gregory's trousers and entreated him, "Please Master! This whore begs you, let her cum."

Gregory looked down at her and sneered, "Jesus, look at you. Are you happy like this? Is this who you want to be? Begging like a dog to be allowed to get off?"

"This whore is happy, Master. This is what this whore is."

Gregory growled in response. After a moment's contemplation, he hooked his hands under her armpits and dragged her up onto his lap in the recliner. "Open your legs, whore. Let everyone see." She spread herself wide, and looked at Ian with her ever-hungry eyes again. Dexter returned from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.

His left arm tightly snaked around her throat, locking her in position. His right hand slid over her thigh and caressed her pussy. "Please, please, please..." His fingers worked in slick circles. Gently at first, but pressed on by her hips keenly thrusting towards them, he became more vigorous. Her breath came quickly, her hips ground against his hand, smooth legs out wide for everyone to see. "Please Master, let this bitch cum."

"Do it. Do it like the worthless whore you are!" Hardly moments after he gave permission, an incinerating heat enveloped her. Her breaths became rapid and shallow. Her hands desperately scrabbled about, and finally clutched at his thick, controlling arms as spasms of joy shuddered through her body. She gave a rasping cry of pleasure that turned to a low, mumbling moan as she rode the quivering aftershocks. Her body finally went slack in his powerful embrace.





Li's Story Ch. 04



Li wondered how she kept getting herself into these situations. She was exposed. Her feet fixed apart by a spreader bar. Her hands, hell even every individual finger, were bound tightly together in black latex gauntlets behind her back. On top of that her head was enveloped by latex hood which sported a thick blindfold kept in place by a heavy bridle that even a plough horse would consider a bit much. The bridle itself was roped to the middle of the spreader bar, keeping her doubled over. Oh yes, and she was also suspended upside down, twisting slightly to what miniscule writhing she could manage. 

This was all par for the course for her, even pleasing. There was a sense of security in the tightness of the restraints, and a liberation from choice itself. But what was driving hair-shreddingly insane were the two vibrators strapped snugly to her groin. One, a stoppered thumb-sized bastard, had been slid into her ass. The other was one of those magic-wand doohickey's, tied against her thigh and pressing against her clit. Some sadist had been edging her for the last three hours, incessantly playing with the speed settings, getting her closer and closer to climax only to back away or even switch them off. Her posture had gone pretty much unchanged in all that time, the only reprieve she was given was to be occasionally lowered to the ground and let the blood rush from her head. Then five minutes later it was back up in the air. 

She guessed whoever her tormenter was, it was also the same person who would feed his cock into her mouth every twenty minutes or so for a good polishing. He never ejaculated, so he was being edged as much as she was. It was probably Tom, that servile prick. Master's cock was larger than his, so it had to be Tom. 

This was all punishment of course, so it wasn't like she was supposed to be enjoying herself. Orgasming without permission came with some stiff penalties in this house. 

As her tormentor powered up the vibrators for the umpteenth time Li asked herself again, how did she get into this situation? 

# 

Close to a year had passed since Li was Gregory's toy. She had spent it aimlessly rolling around the entire width of the country, waiting for that fat goose of an investment to lay its golden egg, and then...what? She didn't like to think about it. Fortunately there were enough states, enough cities, and enough insipid tourist traps to keep her distracted. She didn't like Washington though, something about all the trees kept reminding her about Gregory. Utah was picturesque at any time of the year. 

There had only been one man in the interim. Some boring, forgettable slouch somewhere around California. He had been all smoothness and smiling confidence in the club, which was soon followed by a lacklustre performance in the bed. All she got out of it was a giggle to herself as she imagined starting up a "Yelp" style website for sex. "Piss-poor showing with insufficient equipment. Not worth suffering the arrogance." 

Somehow, and she would swear through no conscious choice of her own, Li had looped around the country and had returned to New York. Perhaps it was inevitable, as it was the last place where there had been any sort of anchor in her life. An invisible leash that could only be pulled for so long before eventually wrenching her back. 

Li surprised herself by driving by Richard's old home, her old home. She stared at it through the tinted windscreen of her Lexus. There was a distant tug of nostalgia, but that was soon overwhelmed by a crashing wave of the most deviant desires. She squirmed in her seat as she bit her lip at a hundred memories, some pleasant and others not quite conventionally so. 

"Like a well-trained terrier." Li sighed with hot breath and dropped her head to the steering wheel. Richard, as a lover, was finally dead to her, and yet his influence still gripped firmly at her. The sixteen months since his car crash had clearly not washed everything away. 

It dawned on her there, idling in a car outside a home that was no longer hers, that it might never go away. If that was indeed the case, then she could not imagine living her life without having those desires filled. There must be millions of Masters in the world, with millions of slaves. Why was she having such a hard time finding her place? Of course her introversion and horrible experience on the Internet certainly didn't help. Smiling slightly, she realized that she may have walked passed a dozen suitable Masters today alone, as they cursed a very similar thing to themselves as she went by. 

There were only two people left in a 500 mile radius that she really knew, and Gregory was someone she had sworn to never lay eyes on again. Almost absentmindedly, Tyra's number was punched into Li's phone. The line buzzed. They had not been on good terms at all when they parted ways. A particularly talented cello player who was well known for her fiery temper. The line buzzed again. Li had slapped her awfully hard during their last conversation, would she even want to talk? Li's thumb started to move to cancel the call when it was picked up. 

"What?" Ah, Tyra clearly remembered too. 

"Hey." Li began timidly. 

"What?" Tyra repeated. There were daggers in her voice. 

"Tyra, it's, well, it's Li. I'm back in the city and I just, I just wanted to apologize." 

"Apology accepted. Now fuck off." 

"Ty! Please, no, really I'm sorry. You're the closest thing I've had to a friend since college and I screwed things up between us because...Jesus I don't know. Because I always screw things up. One cup of coffee, my treat, that's all I ask." There was a long silence. 

Eventually there was a distant sigh of resignation, "Fine. I got a twenty minute opening at one o'clock. The Bronze Urn, you know the place?" 

"Yeah." Li glanced at the clock, it'd have to be a fast drive. Tyra hung up without another word. 

# 

Tyra! It was Tyra's damn fault that she was in this situation! The two vibrators growled up to full throttle. Christ were they gas-powered? Li bucked and twisted as much as she could under the draconian restraints, effecting only a tiny wiggle of her body. The rope between the bridle and the spreader bar was unhitched and her torso achingly unfurled. A zipper was undone right where her head dangled, and hands clasped at her head. 

"Please! I'm so sorry!" Li whimpered, "I won't do it again, I won't -mmf!" Six inches of cock slid its way down her throat, right to its base, and held there. 

"If you want to add a ball-gag to your punishment," Tom's voice, the cocksucker! "Say another word." 

Li coughed and gagged, but did not even dare think about introducing her teeth. She hated servicing Tom, he was not the Master of this house, and she only cared to serve Masters, not other slaves. Tom rocked her head back and forth, letting his meat run along her tongue ever so slowly. Li tried to console herself, this was what Master had ordered to be done. Servicing Tom served Master. This was her fault, after all. She knew the rules, they had been clearly explained to her, along with the relevant punishments. She had agreed to this. She wanted this. Right? 

Tom started to pump his hips into the motion, moaning with pleasure. She could hear the self-satisfied smile on his face. Her toes curled as the powerful vibrators threw her towards an orgasm. Oh please don't notice! Please don't notice! Oh shit don't- 

She couldn't help it, as a prelude to the coming climax Li let out an animalistic groan, her thighs in joyous spasm. He noticed. Tom hastily yanked out his cock, a tendril of saliva eagerly stretching for more. He hit the controls, killing the machines. 

"God damn it!" Li snarled. 

"What did I say about speaking?" Tom gave a sleazy laugh before plugging her mouth with a rubber ball-gag, locking it in place with a baleful 'click'. "See you soon." Tom slapped her ass on the way out. The door slammed shut and his footsteps disappeared, nonetheless Li felt she was still being watched. 

# 

The Bronze Urn was a pleasant coffee shop in Manhattan that had not been taken over by either Starbucks or even any one particular sub-culture. Hipsters, emos, yuppies, retirees, and every other clique of New York seemed fairly represented, although at this time of day it was mostly businesspeople looking for that midday fix of caffeine and a doughnut. Decorated in warm yellows and browns, it felt almost a bit much in the late summer heat. Wooden stools, old sofas, and threadbare recliners were carefully selected and placed to provoke a homely yet haphazard ambiance to the shop. 

Out of the oldest of habits, Li ducked her head as she walked through the door. The joyful jingle of a little bell eliciting quick smiles and practiced greetings. Li bought a cup of ginseng tea, and flicked her eyes about, quickly spotting Tyra sitting in a corner booth by herself, well away from anyone else. She was staring out the window with her brow deeply furrowed. 

"Hey." Li said awkwardly as she slid into the couch opposite her. Tyra just looked at her over her cup of coffee. She looked older than Li remembered. A single grey strand against hair as black as her own, a few wrinkles creased what was surely once a perfect caramel skin. An old memory surfaced of Richard joking if Li would like to taste and see if it was as sweet as it looked. Memories like that once made her melancholic, now it seemed like an inappropriate thing for anyone to say. 

Tyra glanced at her wristwatch, an anachronism in the twenty-first century, "You have eighteen minutes. Then I need to get back to work." The surprise must have been visible on Li's face, "Yes, I have a day job. Playing in an orchestra doesn't pay much, unless you got some sugar daddy." 

"It was never like that." She diplomatically changed topics, "What do you do these days?" 

"Same thing I did back when still never talked. Assistant editor to the magazine FemCap. We focus on issues of intersectionality in capitalist society." 

"Such as?" 

Tyra sighed and threw a finger around the room, "Black people make up 17.4% of Manhattan's population. What's the black population of this upscale slice of the American Dream?" 

Li didn't need to look around again to know. "One." 

"Women outnumber men as well, ten to nine. Before you rolled in I did a count: twenty-seven people in this place, only eleven women here. It's not an anomaly either, I've been coming in here every day at one o'clock for two weeks. The figures are fairly constant. Now go to any impoverished neighbourhood in this state and you will easily see a reversal of this trend. In a capitalist society this then necessarily means that-" Tyra caught herself, "Oh you clever devil. No, I'm still pissed at you." 

Li gave a weak smile and blew on her tea, "At least we're talking." She hesitated for a moment, not sure how much she should explain, and how much she should lie. "I am sorry for hitting you, back then. I loved him, and you, well you never did respect him, did you?" 

"He came from old money?" Li nodded in response, "That earns zero fucks from me. Hell, then he played life on easy mode. He should've done more than anyone else." 

"You didn't know him. Richard worked hard, harder than anyone I've ever known, and he still had plenty to spare to push others. I've never met anyone like him, not even close." 

Tyra's eyes narrowed for a moment, "Wait, you didn't call him by his name the last time we spoke. What was it you said? Master?" 

Li's face flared red. She was trapped! Could she lie? No. Too late. Cat's out the bag and begging for treats. "Yes." She whispered. 

"You understand why that would make me want to reach across the table and smack you, right? I know you weren't born in this country, but you got the gist of our history?" 

"Y-yes. And I understand how you might feel-" 

"Oh you have no idea, don't even pretend. How could you do that? How could call someone that, ever?" 

"Am I not free to live my life as I choose?" Li started to rally herself. She could take any manner of abuses, but she would not be looked down upon by those who had no idea what she could endure. 

"I suppose you are. Our magazine even ran an article on - on what I suppose you'd call the 'lifestyle' a few months ago. I met a so-called 'master'. A sociopath, total fucking sociopath, and you want to bow down to someone like that?" 

"So I'm free to live as I choose, but others are not free to help me realize my decisions?" 

"People aren't islands, Li. The idea of a private world is a myth. Even things behind locked doors, they resonate outwards." 

"Jesus, Ty! I'm not here to argue this with you!" Her voice was much louder than she intended, although a few annoyed glances was all she got. 

"All right, okay. You apologized for hitting me, and I suppose I was a bit of a deserving bitch in the moment. Look, I have to get back to work. Next issue is heading out to the publishers the day after tomorrow. Are you okay though? It's been a long-ass time and I guess I still don't know what you're doing with yourself." 

"Ha, me too. But I'll live." 

# 

Master had finally come home. She never thought that she'd be so happy to see him, nor so grateful when he released her from her suspension, almost forgetting that he had been the one to put her in that condition in the first place. No, no, that was not right. She had put herself there by breaking the rules. She should know better than to think otherwise by now. 

The blindfold came off first. Master looked tired, his greying hair dishevelled and his face more careworn than usual, but there was a hungry glow in his icy blue eyes that sparked Li's heart when their gaze met for an instant. Despite his apparent tiredness, he still bore himself with an air of calm authority and determination. It was something quite unlike Richard's aloof ambition, or Gregory's brute violence. Instead, it seemed to Li to be an authority born from experience and lifelong prudence. 

Li had guessed him to be in his early to mid-fifties, although she would never presume to ask. A daily workout routine that could only be described as "Spartan" held any threat of a beer-belly well at bay, and, while not exactly of athletic build, he still earned himself a body that many twenty year-olds would be envious of. 

Her ball-gag stayed on, even though saliva had been pouring out of her mouth almost as soon as it had been put on an hour ago. The latex gauntlets were replaced with wrist cuffs that clasped onto her nipple rings, giving her only a few inches of motion with her hands if she was willing to tug painfully at her own nipples. Beyond that and some delicate-looking black high heels, she was left naked. 

Her current condition, as it had been explained to her, was "omega" in the household. She was the slave of slaves, so long as the orders of a lower-ranked member did not contradict the orders of higher-ranked, she had to obey. Tom was a slave, though he made her regret even mentioning that detail greatly on her first day. In fact, not only was she the slave of slaves, but she had to endure a strict, high-protocol consideration period of three months which she had only barely begun, and had already screwed up. No touching oneself without permission, no orgasming without permission. Rules two and three blown right out the gate and she had been suffering for it all day. 

Master had Tom bring her to the parlour. It was a spacious room, brightly lit through the day by the southern wall being entirely glass, opening out to a large, high-walled back garden which even boasted a heated pool. The room itself had a milk-white carpet, thick and soft enough to be a blanket. Li had already spent a lot of time keeping it in absolute pristine condition. Large black aniline leather chairs and couches offered more than enough seating space for the household and the occasional guests. There was hardly a shortage of funds. 

She was brought to her knees in the middle of the room, Master was sitting back in his great big armchair. He had changed from his office clothes to jeans and a white polo shirt. Tom stood off to his left, just in Li's periphery. Unlike Master, who had a tall, solid frame, Tom was lithe but short. He was young too, even younger than Li. Twenty-four if she were to guess, and his thick, blonde curls jangled mockingly whenever he laughed. He wasn't laughing now, but he was smirking. The prick. He had been the omega until Li arrived, and he was clearly enjoying his new station. 

The two men regarded her in unequal manners. Tom leered, while Master inspected. She was kneeling, head bowed and ass cheeks settled back onto the slim heels of her shoes, hands up like a begging dog due to the way the cuffs were secured to her nipples. Her shoulders were beginning to burn; she could not relax her arms without tugging at her nipples in a way that she felt she just could not suffer at the moment. A drab of saliva dropped from the ball-gag and splattered along her exposed breasts. From the corner of her eye, she could see Tom getting antsy. Master was still, studying, contemplating. 

"Sir, do you think we should wait for Mistress Patricia and Miss Francesca?" Tom asked. There was something in his voice that made Li realize that he had been edged just as much as she had been all day. That somehow made her feel a little better.  

"I don't think there is a need for the whole house to be in attendance for this. Take off her ball-gag." Tom obeyed, and let it simply fall down into her lap. Li didn't move. "Did she orgasm?" 

"Not once, sir." Tom returned to his position. 

"And you?" 

The tiniest hesitation, "No, sir." 

"We will discuss your lie later. Slave, do you understand why you were punished?" 

Li's jaw hurt as she spoke, "This slave does, Master." 

"Do you believe you were sufficiently punished for breaking two rules of this house?" 

Li also made the mistake of hesitating. She had been suspended, edged, and skull-fucked for five hours. The muscles in her neck screamed in pain, her pussy was in equal measures too tender to be touched and dying for a release. 'Sufficient' was a speck in the rear-view mirror and 'insane excess' was a fast approaching wall. "No, Master." 

"What is rule number one, slave?" 

"Do not lie, Master." A moment of silence passed, and Li shuddered out a broken sob, "Forgive this slave, Master. She broke two of the most important rules after she had said so much about what a good slave she is! I - this slave deserves more punishment but-but I can't - this slave can't!" 

"You can't?" Tom laughed, "After all you said? Or was all that lies at well?" Li looked up imploringly at Master to chastise or overrule him, but he just looked at her through slits. She gave another sob. Had she broken three rules so quickly? 

"Unhook her cuffs. Slave, position seven, and await your punishment." Li only had a moment to enjoy stretching out her shoulders. Position seven placed her bent over the back of a chair in the dining room, legs spread wide and up on her toes, hands gripping the legs of the chair. She was short, but fortunately so was the chair. The position was just right to jut out her ass, perfect for a fuck, or more likely in this case, a caning. She was not restrained, and she did not need to be. She obediently waited, expecting Master to have Tom fetch his cane shortly, but seconds turned to minutes and still she waited unmoving, her back, calves and hamstrings began to feel the strain. Indefinite noises of movement told her little of what was happening or what to expect next, and her focus slowly began to wander. 

# 

Two weeks had gone by since the Bronze Urn. Li had set herself up with a modest apartment in a part of the city that was considered safe, if not high-class. The night before Tyra and Li had met up again for a dinner date which went far more amicably, even if Ty had occasionally pushed the issue of her proclivities. It was more so out of curiosity than any moral vindictiveness, although the latter did creep up as an undertone. Her mention of interviewing some members of the scene had gotten Li's hopes up. Aside from a few exchanges over the Internet, she always had the impression that it was something very few people ever indulged in as a hobby, never mind as a permanent way of life. 




Li's Story Ch. 04



Li sat in a corner of her apartment. It was dark except for the cold glow of her laptop which she huddled over, a large pizza box and linen-free bed the only furnishings so far. Her Stradivarius violin had been safely locked away in a specially arranged security box at the bank. She had always known them to be the finest and most beautiful violins ever made, and that they were very expensive. Then not long ago she came across an online article gushing how one of the last remaining Stradivarius violins had been auctioned for $45 million. Her jaw hit the floor and stayed there for a long while. Through the barrage of emotions that flooded her on reading that, the one that shone forth the most brightly was the implicit faith Richard had had for her in buying one for her. It was no sparkly trinket. It was a most singular delicate work of art, which he had entrusted in her because he believed in her ability to make the most of its potential. Li promised herself that she would retrieve it from the bank when she believed that she had earned it again. 

She cast a menacing eye at the last slice of pizza, swimming in its own grease. Fat fat fat, not good enough. She scolded herself ruefully. How had it come to this? Not two years ago she would have been satisfied with a garden salad, or something else stamped with the official Barbie seal of approval. 

In reality, Li was only approaching the lower end of 'average' by any sane metric, abundant tits notwithstanding. That fact did not make her feel much better though. The severest of gymnastic training regimes growing up gave way to eight years of Richard's borderline sadistic exercises twice a day. Not so long ago she had a body that would not have looked out of place at the Olympics. It had been something that she drew an immense pride from every single day of her life. She pouted down at the over-sized turtleneck sweater which draped over her knees, hiding herself from her soft body. Average or otherwise, she did not feel happy and resolved to make some changes, for the hundredth time. 

After yet another unsatisfactory Google search, Li snapped the laptop shut. There were no shortage of clubs, dungeons, and professional services in the area of her particular concern, but for one reason or another she rejected them all. On more than one instance she found herself pausing and asking herself how much she actually knew about the lifestyle which she so delightedly threw herself into. Had she been a "slave", or a "Richard-slave"? Taught and moulded to his specifications and to the exclusion of all else. There were certain terms and phrases that were common among the websites and profiles she viewed, but had no idea what they meant. That sculpting of her to fit himself perfectly still remained, the palimpsest of his life upon her own, could she ever be free? 

She shook herself from her ruminations: her cell phone buzzed with an email from Tyra. She read it, re-read it, and then read it again. She wasn't entirely sure whether to be angry or excited. The feisty young editor responded to Li's reply almost immediately. Probably working late again. The exchange was to the effect that Tyra had contacted one of the Masters she had interviewed some months ago, and related at least some of Li's story. In what felt like a dizzingly quick exchange, Li had the Master's contact details and a...huh..."interview" the next afternoon. She was so excited she barely noticed the creeping light of dawn as she crawled from her corner to the bed. 

# 

Her thighs wobbled, calves afire, tears creeping out of the corner of her eyes. The chair clattered against the dining room tiles beneath her trembling. Position seven for a good twenty minutes was a punishment in itself. This wasn't fair. This was too much! Stretched over the backing, she gripped the chair legs until her knuckles turned white. No, she deserved this. She had lied, breaking the first and most important rule in the house. If anything she got off incredibly lightly. 

She could not see much from her position, her dangling breasts blocking a good portion of her view. The room had been silent for a long time now, but she dared not move. Four strikes in one day may be pushing the limits. God, had she ever done so much wrong since her earliest days with Richard? 

The clack-clacking of heels on tile snapped Li back to the present. Francesca rarely wore heels. It must be Mistress Patricia. The footsteps stopped not an inch behind her. She could imagine the heat of Mistress' body emanating over her. 

"I am told that you have been a naughty girl today, slave." Her voice's husky southern twang trembled down Li's exposed spine. 

"I'm -" 

"Quiet! Keep your trap shut until I direct you to speak." The tip of a thin, narrow cane touched Li's bare ass, slowly stroking across her cheeks, circling back to her crack, then pressing in cruelly. "You told me you were the best. You told me you were tough, trained, eager, and unquestioningly obedient." The cane pressed harder and twisted into her soft, pink asshole. "You lied." 

Li wanted to scream out that it was the truth. That she had slipped up, but that she still believed every word she had said before. She knew better, and kept quiet. The cane slid across her ass again, before landing with a thwack! Li grit her teeth and tensed her body, exhausted muscle rippled up her calves and back, but otherwise didn't move. 

"That you are a liar, and in need of correction is a forgone conclusion. The only question I have for you is: how much did you lie?" The cane drew back, and cracked against Li again. Patricia could not help but admire the way her tight ass reverberated under the impact. "Answer, slave." 

"I did not lie, Mistress. I-" Five strikes followed so rapidly that the pain of the first only began to register after the third. Li bucked upwards, clenching her eyes shut, but didn't let go of the chair. 

"You are a liar, and if I have to restrain you I will double your punishment. It has already increased once with your insipid denials. Now answer the question, truthfully." 

A tear escaped Li's eye. The little bastard had been hovering on the brink for a while now. "I was mistaken, Mistress. I thought I was all those things. But it has been so long. I failed you. I failed Master. I failed myself." The clacking of heels slowly circled around Li's bent over form. "I still believe that what I said is true. I will accept whatever punishment you have, and I will continue to strive to do better, Mistress." 

The clacking had come full circle. Mistress' hand gently caressed Li's reddening skin, before withdrawing and striking again. Li let out a whimper. "And if you don't? Each of us brings something to this house. Thomas is an engineer who fashions all our restraints and devices. Francesca is a medical resident who cares for us when we are sick or injured. You? What do you offer? You are Master's flavour of the month. A toy. A broken one that does not do what it is told, by all accounts." 

Li could not take that. She broke into heaving cries as the cane landed again and again. It was true. "I can play the violin!" She sobbed. 

"And I can play the piano." Patricia paused from her task, "Shall we start a band? Oh do not answer that." The strikes resumed, until she finally broke the skin, then three more. On the last strike Li yelped and her legs failed her, she barely managed to cling to the chair, slumping her weight down. Her breasts squeezed out against the seat, nipple piercings small and sharp against her flesh. Patricia moved to the front of the chair, grabbed a fistful of Li's hair and wrenched her head up to face her. 

Li's sight was blurred through the stream of tears, but she could make out Patricia's dyed blonde hair. A late-forties ex-cheerleader who never let go of the dream of youth, nature be damned and cosmetics be praised. She could have been Bambi Wood's sister once upon time, but the face that looked down at her now was vicious and angry. "I do not think you have what it takes to be in this household, Xiaolian. We play a lot harder than you can handle." 

"Just Li, Mistress." She sniffed, ignoring the way Patricia butchered the intonation of her name, "And I beg you to let me be the judge of that." Patricia threw down Li's head. 

"Then you can stay like that until someone tells you to move." Her heel-strikes receded, and Li was left alone and shaking in the darkening dining room. 

# 

It was close to an hour before Kyle - Master - had Li get off the chair and prepare dinner for the household. It was quite cheeky, but she took Mistress' parting words to mean that she could remain slumped over the chair like laundry, and not in the stressful position seven. It felt oddly therapeutic after the day's suspension, all the knots in her muscles eased a little. 

It was to be salmon-stuffed chicken fillets for dinner with garden salad and garlic buns, a dish Li had cooked a few times in the past. However, she was a bit distracted this night. She was still clothed only in her high-heels, and mercifully an apron, but it was more than her constant exposure that bothered her. She fumbled through the cupboards and drawers of the kitchen, only half-remembering what Francesca had shown her when she first arrived. She had to navigate around a low central table of oiled teak wood that hosted a Korean grill, a little out of place amidst the sleek grey-veined black granite countertops, with a swathe of silvery appliances that could pop back into engineered hideaways. 

Mistress had challenged her. "Play too hard" she said! Almost unthinkingly Li had responded, but - and this is what was leaving her unfocused - had it been a matter of her choice, or lack of choice? Or just a product of her impatience that prevented her from searching longer for a better fit for herself. She clicked her tongue in annoyance as she flipped over a fillet. Charred at the corners. She slid that one into the fridge for Francesca when she eventually got back from her shift at the hospital. If the last few days were any indication, she'd be too tired to even notice. 

As she had done for every formal meal since she joined the household, Li knelt into the corner of the dining room, only standing up and turning to face the room when she was called. A little bit more of pepper here, a splash of wine there. And as with every formal meal before, cocksucker Tom was the one to call on her the most often. A little smile curled on his lips every time. And every time he paused to drink in her body in the dimmed lighting. Her smooth, creamy skin sent to a slightly darker tan under the light, perfect and unmarred except for the many thin red welts on the curve of her ass. Her breasts were squeezed like ripe melons when, careful not to bump anyone, she tucked her elbows together while refreshing their drinks. When she was on either side of him, he pinched and pulled one of her nipple rings, forcing her to clench her jaw and focus entirely on her task. She did her best to ignore the dripping wetness between her thighs as he toyed with her. 

No-one in the house stood up for her of course. Not only because she was on the lowest rung of their little community, but also because it had been made abundantly clear to her that she would go through a baptism of fire before a long-term contract was considered. 

Li's downcast eyes flicked up to Patricia for the briefest of moments. It was her that wanted Li gone, no doubt. She'd show her yet. Dinner went smoothly, despite her tired and aching body, no glasses were knocked over, and no elbows were jostled during her service. She was especially proud when Tom gave her tender bare ass a hard smack while she was bending over to clear some plates, and she was positively beaming when Master even complimented her on the dish! She silently prayed that Francesca wouldn't mention her brunt portion, if she even noticed at all. That would really ruin it. 

There was something of an epiphany as she ate her own dinner later in the kitchen, all the while chewing and absentmindedly staring at the steam rising from the pots and pans that were left to soak. Tom had been in her position until six days ago. He had been subjected to just as much as she had for much longer. Maybe he had earned a little bit of cathartic sadism. She grimaced in disgust at her own thought. Tom was a slave, and she had no desire to please a slave. Annoyed with herself, she threw out the remains of her meal and returned to her duties. 

As was their custom, Kyle and Patricia cuddled on the couch late into the evening, occasionally whispering something to one another. Tom and Li stood on either side of the parlour, feet together and hands behind their backs, ready to serve on command. Francesca had called earlier, apologetically explaining that she had to spend the night at the hospital, and Master had excused her from any duties until she was able to resume. Li tried not to show her disappointment, despite spending only a few days with her, the two slaves had become fast friends. 

Since dinner was over Li wore only her black heels, while Tom was relegated to a pair of red boxer shorts. Although their eyes were downcast, Li couldn't help but notice Tom's body from the periphery of her sight. A hard six-pack against a deeply tanned skin, veins running down his muscled arms that were thick and coiled like rope around a ship's mast. His thighs made of hardened hills and valleys, and the bulge in his boxers promised something that made Li bite her lip in anticipation. A handsome man, if she didn't have to look at his damn mocking smile. 

She snapped out of her reverie only when Master dismissed him for the night. She flushed maroon as he left. She had been sucking his cock all day and had hated every moment of it. What was wrong with her? Her blushing deepened as he breezed passed her on the way out, leaving behind a trail of his musky scent. 

"I'll see you later." A whispered half-promise. Her heart fluttered out of fear, surely. It was difficult to think of anything else for a while, but thankfully Master ordered his nightcap shortly after that. She was only too happy to do something to distract herself, and brought his whiskey on a pewter tray. She knelt at the foot of the couch, tray held out at shoulder height but a little forward from her body so as not to obstruct the view she offered Master and Mistress. Fortunately for her, the whiskey bottle was mostly empty, so despite her numerous aches and pains she knew she could hold the position for a while at least. 

Patricia poured two tumblers and handed one to Kyle. He smiled in thanks and looked down at Li. 

"A few slip-ups aside, I am quite happy with our new acquisition. What do you think, pet?" 

Patricia curled a lip in contempt, "Do you want my honest opinion?" Kyle nodded in response. Patricia stared right down at Li as she spoke, who kept her eyes down as she had been told to always do, "She has lied. She, a slave, has pleasured herself without permission. The only good thing I have to say is that when it comes to punishment, she takes it. So far." Patricia looked to her husband, "Honestly, I think this eastern craze you recently acquired has clouded your judgement." Li felt her heart plummet into her stomach. 

"Come now, pet. Was Cess any better when she first came to us? Was Tom?" 

"Francesca was a twenty year-old college student, stressed out and spinning out of control. Thomas had not so much as drunk beer before. They had legitimate excuses. She has lies. This big-titted slut would not stop bragging about how she is some perfect slave. You will be tired of her in a month, at most!" 

"Pat, honey, take a breath." 

"I am going to bed. Do whatever you want with this sack of meat." Patricia pulled away from Kyle, dropped the tumbler on the tray, and disappeared up the stairs towards the bedrooms. Li discreetly blinked away a few tears. Mistress' words hurt the most because she truly feared that she was right. Kyle didn't bother chasing after his wife, instead he repositioned himself on the couch, lying back with his head up on an armrest near where Li knelt. 

He took his time, slowly sipping at his drink. His free hand explored as much of Li's body as it could reach, which was a lot, given his six-foot-plus height. His hands ran through her raven black hair, following the strands as they splayed over her shoulder, down her back, a shimmering ebony waterfall. His thumb stroked the rim of her little ears, down her jawline, there his hand clasped her chin. Li drew in a sharp breath, remembering to keep her eyes down, in that moment she felt as controlled as though a leash had ensnared her. She wanted him to say it. She wanted him to say it: "I am going to fuck you." 

He didn't. He had given her a mind-shattering orgasm on her second day, and another on the fourth. He was both gifted and masterfully skilled, but she felt starved on the rations he gave out. Yesterday, desperate for a fraction of the pleasure, she had hastily worked herself up to an at-best tepid orgasm just as Tom walked in on her. She had been paying for that all damn day. 

He raised her head up from the chin, a few slashes of hair caught her long eyelashes. He saw the desperate pleading in her eyes, the animalistic desire to be dominated and fucked. How could he miss it? It was written all over her face. It was ignored. Instead he inspected her make-up, the mascara was thoroughly smudged from the day's trials, ruining the artfully done wing-tips she had applied in the morning. 

He turned her head this way and that, before pulling it back down to its place. He sat up to pour another glassful, the last of the bottle. He didn't lie back down. His measured breaths gently fell over her. Judging by the strain at his trousers, he was not only controlling her, he was controlling himself too. He lifted the tray away and set it aside. 

"Thank you, Master." Her shoulders had been burning for a good few minutes already. Much longer and it would have been rattling in her hands. 

"Stand up, feet together. Take one step back." She obeyed, "Hands behind your back, eyes straight forward." She also squeezed her shoulder blades together as she did so, presenting her breasts. The light cast great shadows across her stomach from them. Master sat back and smiled, sipping at his whiskey. "Turn around, face the wall. Hands behind your head." She turned, showing him her ass. A drip of wetness glistened on her inner thigh. His breathing came a little more rapidly. "Try not to get caned anymore, slave. I don't like how your ass looks afterwards." 

"Yes Master." 

"Pat is right, on a number of accounts. You do not bring anything to this household. You are uninvested in us, so why should we invest in you?" 

His words made her think about the fortune she had entrusted to Theo, Richard's brother, to manage on her behalf. Six hundred thousand, no small sum, was tied up in the stock market. Then of course there was her violin, and her Lexus. Oh, and about thirty thousand dollars or so stowed away in her savings account. All of it Richard's legacy. She was wise enough not to breathe a word of it anyone, Master or otherwise. 

"Answer, slave." 

"Forgive me, Master, but you already have everything I can give." 

"Hmph." An ominous noise from him, at the best of times, "Legs straight, grab your ankles." Li brought herself right down to squeeze her breasts against her legs. A move that was a little harder than she remembered, especially in heels. She curled her hands around her calves, and gripped her ankles. She couldn't see much, but she could hear Master drinking. His footsteps approached. She quivered in anticipation. 

A hand found her rump, and ran along it, soothing then stinging as it ran over her skin. His hand slid upwards, palm lifting off, leaving the light strokes of his fingertips to the arch of her back. 




Li's Story Ch. 04



"Please fuck me, Master." She gave out a gasp at her own lack of control. 

"No." His hand withdrew, "Go to bed. Tomorrow we consider your contract." 

It was with the greatest of effort that she straightened, and wordlessly went to her bedroom. A test, she knew, it had to be. Her groin was a fucking fountain. The moment she was out of sight she had to clasp her hands together to prevent herself from misbehaving again. She didn't want to risk an even worse ordeal tomorrow if she got caught. 

She pushed the door open to her bedroom. A rather plain affair, with a dull green and beige motif. Other than a dressing table and a single iron-framed bed it was bare. A small smile flickered when she realized that her own apartment was even more poorly furnished. 

Li hardly took a step across the threshold when a hand gripped her hair tightly, yanking her off balance on those damn dainty heels, she fell into Tom's arms. She could feel his heart beating hard through her back. 

"I've been waiting for you, meat." She could hear his smile. Brusquely, she was propelled onto her bed, the door slamming shut somewhere a thousand miles away. She couldn't react. She clasped at the bed's iron headboard, bewildered and disorientated. Oh she knew what had happened, and what was about to happen. She had no idea if she wanted it to happen. 

Without ceremony, his fingers slipped right into her slick, wet pussy. She was caught between his hands, one inside her, the other still with a steely grip on her hair. Like a lamb on the spit, she was helpless to his will. He jerked and jostled her entire body, yanking and twisting both ends violently. Li squealed in a confused mix of pleasure and pain. Brought to the very edge a hundred times or more already today, it did not take long at all. 

Her back arched and flexed, she fumbled wildly, gripping at the bed then the bars then biting down on the pillow. She wasn't going to let him know that she was orgasming, she wasn't going to- 

"Oh fucking helllll!" The spasms rocked her body, her thighs pulsing in pleasure, snapping open and closed as Tom continued his relentless attack. Finally her right leg couldn't take anymore, an aching cramp shot it out straight, off the bed. 

Tom released her, dropping her sweating, convulsing form to the bed. But he wasn't done. He was far from done. He stepped over her and hooked his elbow around her shoulder and easily flipped her onto her back. Through a black tangled mess of hair, Li tried to get words out between her deep, huffing breaths. "You, you-" 

Tom dropped a knee over her one arm, and caught the other before pressing his free hand over her mouth and nose. She couldn't breathe. He could feel that her body was still quivering in aftershocks beneath him. Such beautiful, manicured fingers scrabbled against his strength to no avail. 

"You came without permission, slave." He smiled down on her, "That's what? Rule two? Rule three? I could never remember." Her face became a deeper red, her tired and sore body was useless, legs flailing about hopelessly, "But you were going to say something weren't you? Something stupid I'd bet." She tried to shake her head no, but his hand forced it into a nod. "Yes, yes, because you're a dumb whore saying dumb whore things. But I'm going to show you the only purpose of a slave's mouth. Do you know what it is? It's to suck cock." Purple now, veins pressing out against her skin, eyes tearing up and real panic starting to simmer, "And if I so much as feel teeth I'll hang you back upside down for the rest of the night!" 

He released his hand, Li swallowed in the sweetest air she had ever tasted, but the relief was all too brief. His cock, which by now she knew every ridge, every smoothness, every taste, hovered over her mouth. He paused. It was a turgid missile, aimed right at her, pulsing its eagerness for her mouth. His was the first uncircumcised cock she ever had. A drip of pre-cum drooled down to her lips, spilling down her chin. She comforted herself, he had been edged all day long too. He won't last long. Do a good job polishing it and it would be over quickly. 

She was wrong. 

First he took her depth, sinking his cock right to the base. Tom had a decent size, but compared to him, Gregory had been a fucking stallion on Viagra. But that was still a long time ago, and he held, and he held, and he held. Li finally gagged, coughing and retching, but he only pushed in harder. Her hips lifted ineffectually into the air, and just when she could not take it a second longer, he slowly, ever so slowly, pulled out. She gasped and coughed again. 

"Not bad." She looked up at him, but dared not say anything. He touched the tip to her lips. "Show me those skills you wouldn't shut up about, bitch." Li obeyed. She craned her mouth up his shaft, then back down, sucking in his flavours. She offered her tongue, teasing the tip, up and behind the hood, tickling the part left so sensitive by his foreskin. Tom groaned in unexpected pleasure. Li couldn't hide her smile around her busy mouth. A few licks with the blade of her tongue on the underside, and she very gently drilled the tip into his urethra. 

"Fuck me!" His hand gripped tighter at her arm, "Careful there, slut." She knew what she was doing, exciting long dormant nerves. She curled her tongue around the head, giving it a softly rummaging bed to rest upon. "Hmmm, good. But now let's see if we strike oil." Tom pressed both knees into her upper arms, gripped her head securely, and fed his cock into her. 

It was an unapologetic skull-fucking. Saliva dribbled out as Tom worked his arms and hips in union. Gagging and gobbling, Li tried to push him back to no avail. Cum! Cum you son of a bitch! She swore at him, trying to will him into shedding his hot load onto her face. 

He pulled out, the liquid detritus of the exercise spilling down Li's chest. He still hadn't cum. Li shook her head and blinked away more tears. Tom nimbly hopped off the bed, grabbed her hips and dragged her half off of the mattress before flipping her back over. Both Kyle and Gregory were stronger, but Tom was strong enough. He wrapped his elbow around her thigh and hoisted her up to his hips. The low bed left her heel-over-head. His ever-ready meat first pressed towards her aching cunt. 

"Please," She snivelled, "No more. It's too sore. No more." She was blinded, face pressed into the mattress, but she knew he was smiling. As a strange mercy, he pulled away, then forced into her asshole. It hadn't exactly gone untouched all day. She gave a groan before she managed to relax herself into his pressure. 

His hold on her was precarious, especially given the sweat beading and streaming down her skin. That didn't slow him down. With reckless abandon he hammered into her, growling as his own sweat slipped off and met hers. She ached everywhere, becoming delicate glass still treated like a sack of meat. 

She squirmed and flexed her hips with his thrusting. The force bared down on her g-spot, engorged from his earlier assault. She grit her teeth and curled her toes. No! Not this prick, he doesn't get to be the first one to- 

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" On the shakiest of arms, she picked up her torso from the bed, convulsed in one powerful spasm, spraying sweat, tears and saliva about the room. 

He pulled out, and dropped her back onto the bed. With what little she had left, she rolled onto her side to look at him. The cocksucker still hadn't cum. It was absurd, but she felt absolutely affronted. Was she not good enough? Not pretty enough? What the hell? He noticed her stare, but only sneered as he bent to pick up his dressing gown from the floor. She hadn't even noticed him wearing it. Then again, she had been ambushed. 

He sat down at the dressing table and produced a rumpled cigarette and lighter from its pocket. Smoking indoors was strictly prohibited. Li looked at him with what anger she cared to muster. She will be punished for it in the morning, and more even more so if she claims it was Tom. She sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. 

"You think I'm cruel?" He spoke between frustrated puffs, "You want me to stop? I'm doing you a god damn favour. This ain't even an introduction to what those two fucking sadists will eventually do to you. Yeah, they seem like a sweet ol' married couple don't they? They hurt you. They torture you. They make you want more. Like a fucking drug that kicks the shit out of you. Just...just get the fuck out of here. You're too soft." 

She let her knees fall to one side. "Why didn't you cum?" It suddenly dawned on Li that he had never orgasmed when it was just the two of them. He took a long, hard drag before flicking the half-used cigarette out the window. 

"Fuck off." He drew himself up and stormed out the room. She fell back into her bed, and ran her hand through her hair, suddenly afraid for her future. Kyle and Francesca...she would happily be in a household with the two of them. At least, as they were. Tom and Patricia could swing by on the days when she was feeling particularly masochistic. But to live with this every day? She hugged herself, no, this was all a test. She knew it. They told her: a baptism of fire. This week was a physical and psychological test. Li swore to herself not to back down, not to run away. She had given up on Gregory after only two days, and barely five minutes with what's-his-face in umm...California? 

She curled up into herself. She would belong here. She will make herself belong here.