Slave Bells
Chapter 2
“You have a...girl coming over.” Mrs. Schneider arched an eyebrow, ladle hovering over the mashed potatoes.
“Not a ‘girl’, Mom.” Richard concentrated on cutting his chicken into ever smaller pieces. “Just someone I know from school. We met during lunch a few times and she asked for some help tutoring.”
“And she’s a girl.” Mr. Schneider cleared his throat.
“I guess so.” Richard sank lower in his seat. They were actually grinning. Sweet merciful Yahweh, kill me now. “She’s okay. Trinh—”
“Mrs. McCalley’s daughter? The cheerlead—”
“Yes, she’s on the squad.” Richard sunk a bit lower at the combined attentions of his parents. “An attractive female of my species is coming over here for help in study and perhaps in partaking of televisual excitements. Cats and dogs are lying down together, pigs have achieved altitude, and Satan is hosting the Ice Capades.”
“Do not mock mothers,” Mrs. Schneider intoned, shaking the ladle. “For we are subtle and quick to ground.”
“Yes, mom.”
“She’s welcome to spend the evening.” Mr. Schneider patted his son on the shoulder. “Of course, the bedroom door stays open. Capische?”
“Is she a nice girl?” Mrs. Scheider asked.
He picked at his food.
Her naked body exposed, swaying in place, upon finding her after sneaking into the women’s lockers.
Her soft sigh of “Master”.
Trinh nodding with each panicked instruction he gave her.
“A great girl,” Richard said.
The buzzer rang. Richard charged from his seat before either his mom or dad could react. The meal in his stomach threatened to return the way it came as he opened the door. Trinh stood there with schoolbag slung over her shoulder. To a casual observer, she seemed normal. Her outfit was certainly more attractive than her usual jeans and baggy sweater. Tonight she wore a starched white blouse beneath a cardigan. Her breasts curved beneath starched cotton and blue wool. Slim, shapely legs were revealed by a pleated green tartan kilt whose hem was high enough off her knees to be on the tasteful side of seductive. Knee-high white socks and penny loafers finished the image of a preppy schoolgirl over for a study date
His parents did not notice anything wrong. Trinh acted as shy as she normally did. He had been very, very clear in the locker room about that. Quiet, murmured answers to his parent’s greetings and the curtain of hair drawn over her face left the usual wallflower impression. His mother did her best to make her feel at home. She did not pay attention to Trinh’s eyes. Richard’s stomach rolled when he saw them. They appeared downcast. They were really half-lidded. Glazed. Empty, as Trinh looked out on a world she didn’t really see. A sleepwalker dreaming who knew what while the slave-bells of her earrings rang a siren song. Forcing himself to do it, Richard took her by the arm like a boy politely guiding a diffident guest. She swayed ever so much in his grasp, body curving against his, while he brought her into his room. The kilt rucked up her thighs by a couple inches when he seated her on the bed. He tried hard not to stare at the smooth expanse of flesh. So soft, when he had touched her in the locker room, trying to awaken her. Richard closed the door halfway. Enough for privacy, not enough to arouse his parent’s suggestions. Sitting in his desk chair, he opened his history textbook and pretended to read from it.
“Okay, Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon in—” He continued in this vein for several minutes. After five, the floorboards outside his bedroom door creaked. The TV came on. “Trinh, did you do what I told you.”
“Yes, Master,” Trinh said, that strange musical lilt pervading her speech. “i told brianna that i was sick and i needed to lie down.”
“Did she buy it?”
“Yes Ma—”
“No Master.” Richard swallowed nervously. “Only when we’re really alone.”
“i think she did.” Trinh smiled. “if not, i can take one of the bells and make sure she believes.”
“Don’t!” Richard glanced at the door, wondering if his parents had heard the strangled shout. “Not uh, yet. Trinh, are you in there?”
“i do not understand ma—ma—”
“Memories.” He risked caressing her cheek. She mewed, rubbing against his palm. “Identity. Before you put on the bells.”
“i hear the bells.” Trinh swayed. Her eyes widened. Staring at something. “when i think bad things the bells tell me and i listen and they ring and i forget the bad things and just listen—”
“But your name, and who you are.” What have I done to her, dammit? “Is that...in there?”
“i think so.” Trinh frowned. For a brief moment. Then she nodded her head,. The slave bells chimed. “but most of those are bad things and i am not meant to know them anymore. i must be good for You. a good slave.”
“Uh.” Richard shifted. All of a sudden things south of the border needed accomodation. “If I told you to remember—”
“no i—ah” Trinh clutched her temples. “bad thoughts bad thoughts trinh must listen—”
Trinh nodded over and over. The bells ringing. “Driving all contrary thoughts away”. The sweat poured down his brow. There was no way she could maintain the masquerade like this. Maybe for a few days she could fend off attention play-acting the shy one. It seemed to be one of her best talents. Eventually, though, someone would say something or she would react to him passing by in the halls. Then people would notice. If he was lucky then they might not trace his connection. They would simply see her vacant stare or hear her mindless chant. Where would they put her? An institution? Keep her there while for the rest of her life the slave-bells destroyed any rational thought? He had seen the books in her knapsack while rummaging in her locker for some clues how to help her. Papers graded A+, copies of Austen. Signs of a brilliant mind that would rot away while she rocked in a straightjacket in some comfortable padded cell.
No. He clenched his teeth. That would not happen. There had to be a way. This was akin to a curse or a prophecy. Magical objects in fairy tales always had a loophole. Standard deal, the kiss that awoke sleeping beauty or the apple that Snow White could cough out. He had to figure it what might counter-act the enthrallment. “All contrary thought” What did that mean? Maybe anything that smacked of disobedience. And the bells could be lessened so her mind might surface. Coming close, he brushes the hair away from her features. She was so cute. The spell had not altered her features as much as...other portions of her anatomy. Her eyes were a little wider, her face that of a schoolgirl out of an anime film. Lips like a cupid’s bow. Kissable. No! Think! Concentrate!
“Trinh, do you hear the bells?”
“Yessssssss.” The enslaved girl shivered. Nipples tented through her blouse.
“You will always hear the bells in your mind.” He swallowed. How did the hypnotists on tv shows do it? “Always hear the bells, deep in your mind, deep down, making you obedient and loving for—for—for Master, deep in your mind, so deep you don’t hear them with your ears, but you always know they’re their, down deep, ringing and ringing, making you obey, letting the top of your mind think and focus to obey Master better.”
“yes.” The slur in Trinh’s speech disappeared. “focus. must focus on Master’s word to obey.”
“You need to focus.” Richard tentatively stroked her thighs. Positive reinforcement. That’s right. “You need to focus and think clearly, or people might notice and take you away from Master.”
“no no—”
“Calm, calm. Just let the bells ring deep in your mind.” Richard squeezed a knee. “Now, we’re going to practise something. Trinh is going to come out, remembering everything just as if she had never put on the bells.”
“bad thoughts.” Trinh whimpered. “please. i want to hear the bells—”
“No, Trinh...” Richard draw a shaky breath. “Slave must obey. Master wants his slave to be Trinh again. He wants to talk with her for a while. Those cannot be bad thoughts because Master permits it.”
“obeys.” She swayed. “slave must obey.”
“Okay.” He thought for a moment. “When Trinh comes out, she cannot speak above a low whisper. She will stay on the bed, still. She will not struggle or fight.”
“slave will make trinh obey.”
Here goes nothing.
“Trinh will come out in one...two...three....now.”
A snap of his fingers.
Trinh opened her eyes. The girl stared at him for a while.
And then she screamed, clutching herself, voiceless, rocking on the bed in utter terror.
Trinh screamed and screamed and screamed. She sat with her hands in her lap and screamed. She watched Richard with his back to her at the computer and screamed. She heard the television in the next room and his parents a few yards away and screamed. She screamed with a voice taken from her and she screamed with lips sealed and she screamed as she remembered. The bells stripping her of will and thought. Gliding through the rest of the day with His hurried instructions. Act normal. Tell no-one. You’re feeling sick. You’re going home. Trinh screamed as the memories of mindless obedience listening to those bells telling her to say to Brianna and Miss Herrington and her mom and no one knew, she was trapped and screaming and no one heard her. Screaming while she rememberd the bells, the bells chiming down deep in her mind keeping her quiet and still.
Richard faced her. She wished there had been lust or hate or anything in his expression besides pity. She had seen a butcher at work in Phac Do when sent by the matrons to fetch food from the market. The butcher had been so gentle with the cattle and goats and chickens. Careful, never beating. The same compassion she saw in Richard’s face just before the blade fell. Whimpering, she struggled fruitlessly against the unseen chains that kept her still and calm. Richard laid her on her back, arms at her side, with a pillow beneath her head. His fingers played with the hem of her kilt. If he yanked it up any further he might see she had not put on any panties. Just her pussy smooth, unnaturally smooth and pink. Trinh braced herself. Smiling down at her, Richard drew the hem down until it was a few inches above her knees. He massaged her temples for several minutes, trying to calm her, so kind and good. She screamed and screamed because she knew what was coming and please no don’t don’t don’t.
“I guess this must be scary as hell.” Richard closed the door further. The bed shifted when he sat beside her. “You can speak now, remember, just a low whisper.”
“Why?” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Is it because of my brother? Because I am sorry so sorry I’ll do anything just take them off please please—”
“Shhh.” Richard shook his head. “I swear this was an accident. You have to understand, I—I bought something. Trinh, did you ever read a book by King? Needful Things?”
“I’ve heard—” Trinh quailed. “These earrings are from—”
“It’s complicated.” Richard dried her tears with a tissue. “Really complicated. Let’s just say the box creates jewelery that makes girls...well, slaves. Crafted by an Arab wizard who obviously liked having a full harem. You got whammied when I opened the box on an impulse and said your name instead of another’s. The really big problem being there’s no off switch.”
“Nooooooooo.” Trinh sobbed. “Please, don’t send me back to the bells. Don’t...don’t k—It’s like I’m buried alive in there, walking all hollowed out. Just a doll, a fake doll, i don’t want to die my mind gone don’t don’t don’t.”
“Calm down.” Richard flicked the earrings.
ching
“Mmmmmm.” Her eyes fluttered. A tiny current of pleasure ran from her toes to her bare pussy and to her head all along her spone. “Calm.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.” ching “You believe that with all your heart.”
“Yes.”
“You know that I...” ching “That your master loves you and you love him with all your heart and soul.”
“I—” Trinh tried to scream. ching Tried. ching “love Master. love Him.”
“Listen to Master.”
ching
“Sleep.”
ching
“Listen.”
Trinh’s eyes closed. She listened. Master was telling a story. A story about a girl who wore robes all the time. Heavy robes, stifling and hot and choking. Trinh struggled with the confining clothes. Tripping her up. Trapping her. The girl in the story one day went deep the castle where she lived. A bell guided her deeper and deeper into the heart of the castle. With each step she dropped a robe behind her. Trinh walked down the dark stone-walled hallway. Flagstones gritty beneath her soles. The robes dropping free. Emotions. Fears. Memories. Each garment slipping off her body. The cool air in the depths of the castle were a balm on her skin. She walked and shed her clothes until she stood naked and free in a great chamber in the very center of her castle. Dreamily, she stepped into the marble basin set into the floor. Gentle hands of other girls washed her and bathed her and combed her lustrous dark hair. They guided her into kneeling before a great silver mirror. The bells around the frame lulled her. Trinh smiled at the beauty reflected in the silver. The beauty that was her. Perfect. Pretty. Her. Not a fake. Her.
The girls brought robes trimmed with tiny silver bells. She recognized many of them. Memories of her life. All of them. Yet when they garbed her the memories swaddled her in silk light as the finest down. More robes. Passions. Emotions of love and respect and joy, all brightly coloured. All complementing the firm breasts and slim grace of her body. Her intellect, a brilliant gold tiara about her brows. In the mirror she watched other robes tossed into a fire blazing on a hearth. She saw the black sackcloth of depression consumed by the flames. The grey of her shame. The tight, hobbling skirt that was her desperation to please her mother. Her heart ached just for a moment when she saw it become ashes. Mom, I love mom, I must—She stroked the bright scarlet cloth adorning one robe. Love, I love her. Always I will have it and wear it, always mine. More robes. A tight belt. Obedience. A bodice that cupped and teased her breasts with silk. Love for Master. A green silk chemise. Pride. Pride in Master’s property, not arrogance, i am only slave, but pride in being His and always His. More robes that were tight about her body yet light and so good and soft against her skin. The girl in the mirror was dressed so prettily and was so wonderfully dressed in bright new robes. She was—
ching
She was her.
ching
she was-
ching
trinh floated out of the hallway, finery adorning her. she walked out of the castle and out of the gate. Through the forest along paths she knew so well. Out until she opened her eyes. Sitting up, she adjusted her robes about her. Oh, she was dressed in the blouse and skirt and other things. That was just what others saw. trinh knew what she truly wore. Beneath her skin and in her mind. The robes fit a bit oddly here and there. They would need tailoring. Adjustement with needle and thread, the bells would guide her hand. The bells deep in her mind, a constant chime that she would only hear by its abscence. Even when she was naked the robes would swaddle her body in soft confinement. Naked before—trinh slipped off the bed. He looked down at her. Worried. Master was worried. trinh must not worry Master. Wrists slipped behind her back. Crossed. Knees parted, her kilt rucking up, no shame, Master owned trinh, the bells ringing faintly in her ears as her knees spread wider and wider, thighs straining. Arching her back, her pert full breasts offered up to His touch.
“Trinh?” He reached for her. “Are you...are you there?”
“i am.” trinh smiled.
“How do you feel.”
“sleepy inside.” The bells tinkled. “but awake. both. i know who trinh was and who i am and who i will be.”
“Whooo boy.” Master rubbed the back of his neck. “What you were is mostly there? What...she was?”
“almost all.” trinh cocked her head. “just fitting better. understanding better.”
“Okay.” Richard nodded. He peered out the door. “The ‘rents don’t think we’re having wall-to-wall in here. I think you can leave, our ‘study session’ is over.”
“oh.” trinh bowed her head. “does my body displease you?”
“Uh, wow, no.” His hand hovered over a breast. Paused. Closed on it. Squeezing it. Kneading it. “Good. It’s good. And..this is mine.”
“yeesssssss” chingchingchingching “all Yours. all.”
“Yeah.” Richard licked his lips. “Go home. We’ll deal with, uh, that later.”
“thank you.” trinh rose.
“Hold it.” Richard brushed the hair that always obscured her face. From his desk he took a blue plastic barrette. “I don’t want you to ever hide your face from me or anyone else. Or hide yourself. Stand tall and proud as my...my special pet.”
“pet.” On impulse, she embraced him. His body so close to hers. Her pussy clenched. Aching. “Master.”
“Nrrrgh.”
“i want You to know,” she said, lips close to his ear. Kissing it. “trinh liked you before. wanted you but too shy to say. your pet is glad that is gone and she can truly feel.”
Then trinh was away and out and past the couch and out the door and down the stairs and out into the cool October air her robes so colourful and beautiful as she went to her new life. Her whole new life.
The streets were empty this early in the morning. Richard cruised through quiet neighbourhoods and past storefronts, the rhythm of brake and gearshift and balance calming him down. The crisp autumn wind on his cheeks woke him up better than the two cups of coffee he’d downed at breakfast. He would miss these rides when winter came. Delivery runs were all hustle and adrenaline. It was the slow rides that demanded enough attention to stay safe while still allowing him to think things over. Like last night with Trinh, for example. Or was it trinh? Or slave? Or pet? He still had no idea what he had done. The time he had spent online researching hypnosis and brainwashing had given him some direction. Yet it had mostly been improvisation. What remained of the intelligent fifteen-year old girl who had begged him not to destory her mind was very much in doubt. He couldn’t tell how much of her was really in there. The “trinh” who had knelt in apparent bliss could be a mere shell of instincts and memories over a mindless core. Enough to pass and reassure. But within gone—Richard missed a gearshift. The engine whined in protest. Her Master. The title she had whispered in his ear while hugging him. He was the Master now of what had become of trinh. What that entailed he preferred not to contemplate for now.
Richard locked the Passport at a bicycle rack by the school’s front door. Though early, the janitors had opened the school for any morning-birds who needed to cop a half hour of privacy or study time. He decided to head for homeroom. Though unlikely to be unlocked, he could park himself outside to do a little schoolwork until Mrs. Prentice arrived. Out of habit he jiggled the doorknob. It turned. That’s weird. The staff must have forgotten to lock it last night. Distracted, Richard walked into the darkened classroom. Then yelped when someone tackled him. A very athletic someone with soft lips and a sweet scent and hair that tickled his cheek and—A flailing hand flipped the lightswitches by the doorjamb. Richard gawped at Trinh McCalley’s beaming face. Her black eyes sparkled with an energy he had never seen, either awake or in thrall to the bells. Grinning, she skipped back and plopped herself atop his desk. Her outfit was akin to the one she had worn the night before. Only the white blouse was much tighter and unbuttoned much farther. The pleated green tartan kilt was a touch higher in the hem. Enough that the impression it made went from “cute schoolgirl” to “thighs! thighs! thighs!” The French braid that pulled her hair away from her features was new. So were the low-heeled, knee-high leather boots that clung to Trinh’s slim calves.
“does Master like?” Trinh laced her hands behind her neck. When she arched her back, the tops of a lacy white bra came into view.
“Nrrrrrrgh!”
“is that Masterese for ‘yes’?” Trinh arched her brows.
“More like ‘hell yeah’!” Richard leaned back against the wall, palms flat for support. “The look is definitely, um, you.”
“trinh is glad Master approves.” She suddenly grabbed his shirtfront and jerked him into the seat. A taut, rounded bottom landed in his lap. He could feel it through his jeans because Trinh had flipped up the hem of her skirt a second before. “very very glad. otherwise Master would have to bend me over the desk and spank me.”
“I would?” Richard stiffened in a variety of spots when she wiggled. “Trinh, gah, slow down! Now!”
“what what what?” Tears glistened in her eyes. “has trinh been bad? she was just trying to be Master’s pretty pet and she got it wrong didn’t she and i’m so new i don’t—”
“Uh no, you didn’t get it wrong!” Richard’s hand slipped beneath her skirt and stroked the bottom. The bare bottom. Her bare warm ass without panties. Meep “It’s just a total 180. I mean, I’ve never seen you so, uh, hyper.”
“it’s great!” Her tears disappeared as she seemed to shift emotional gears instantly. “whenever i woke up in the mornings there was always something to worry about. but today i never felt bad because trinh is Master’s pet and she must be proud and the bells tell me mmmmm always ringing down there keeping me—”
“Trinh?”
“—so wet owned by Master—”
“Trinh!”
“—take me right now, hot and nasty, punish me for what my brother did, you know you want to, use—”
CHING
“Ohhhhhhh.” Trinh blinked as Richard flicked the other earring. CHING “belllssss.”
“Yes...pet.” Richard supported her with an arm about her waist. “It’s alright. My slave must, uh, control herself in public though.”
“control.” The bells tinkled while she nodded over and over. “Master controls trinh.”
“That’s right.” Richard couldn’t help palming a handful of smooth, firm asscheek. “When we’re in private you can let go. I love this, you’re great like this. But dial it back for now.”
“oh right.” Eyes focusing, the lovely Asian girl bit her lip. “a bit much, huh, Master?”
“Juuuuust a little,” Richard said, holding up finger and thumb seperated a tiny bit. “You don’t have to make yourself a slut in public to please me.”
“Mmmmmmm, but when we’re alone.” Trinh—or was it trinh?—rocked her bottom cheek against his hand. “Like tonight, Master, trinh will be all alone and she can be your pet, your hot fuckpet—Bri, Rhianna, heya!”
Brianna Madison and Rhianna Jackson stood frozen in the doorway. Within the mind-melting supernova of fear and arousal that was Richard’s consciousness, he was able to notice the Starbucks coffee cups they held. A thin stream from Brianna’s dribbled, unheeded, onto the floor. She must be distracted, Richard realized. Distracted by Trinh wiggling in my lap with her blouse halfway open and my hand on her bare ass and if Brandon came early too they’ll have to scrape my intestines off the walls with a spatula. For her part, Trinh hardly seemed phased. She merely buttoned up her shirt and skipped over to the two senior cheerleaders. Her blithe chatter distracted Brianna as she pulled the blonde out into the hallways. Rhianna was not so easily drawn away. She stared at Richard for an eternity of searing embarassment. Groaning, Richard tried desperately to adjust his jeans so the effect of Trinh’s advances was not so obvious. What—He looked down at what drew Rhianna’s attention. Wetness. A rather large dark patch on his jeans all too obviously left by Trinh’s aroused sex.
Stiff, he walked to the door with shirt untucked to cover as much as the incriminating evidence as possible. Rhianna stepped aside. Very faintly, Richard heard suppressed giggles. His dignified march transformed into a flat-out run towards the men’s gym lockers. The door slammed into the wall as he barrelled into the haven. Stripping off his clothes, he turned a faucet to “cold” and unleashed a spray of icy water. It took several minutes of shivering under the spray before he could safely leave without a “pointing hazard”. Thank God only those two showed up, he thought while towelling off. If it had been, say, Portia or her brother—He examined the jeans. Well, these were a loss for the day. He opened his locker and tossed them in. Good thing he had a pair of sweats. A sniff confirmed there wasn’t any really offensive odours coming from them. Anything funk from them was nothing compared to the musk ground into the jeans. Pausing, he raised them close to his nose. Inhaled. The rich, pungent scent of Trinh undid the work of the cold shower. Tonight she had said.
I shouldn’t. She’s brainwashed, out of her mind. I have no right to take that from her.
Her seductive whispers. Her ass offered to his touch.
No right.
“Master”.
Right.
“There.” Rhianna flicked the mascara brush one last time. “That’ll do it.”
“Does it really look nice?” trinh regarded herself in her bedroom mirror. The sensation of the dark eyeshadow about her eyes and the mascara fluffing out her lashes was strange.
“I wish I looked so good,” Brianna gushed. “I don’t know what happened, but Richard is going to spazz out when he sees you.”
“More than he did this morning?” Rhianna cackled. “Girlfriend, I don’t know what you and Rich talked about last night besides homework. Must have been something for our little Trinh to give him a freaking pole dance before first bell.”
“He’s...” trinh paused. They couldn’t understand. Truly. Unless—“It’s the first time I ever felt like this.”
“About time too.” Brianna applied a touch of subdued lipstick to Trinh’s mouth. “There. Perfect for a, uh, study date.”
“Riiiiiiiight,” Rhianna drawled. She punched Trinh on the arm. “Don’t let him get farther than you need to. He does anything, just hit my cell on speed dial and I’ll have Tyrell over—”
“NO!” Trinh shot up. “Not again, no, I won’t let you!”
“It’s okay, Tri.” Both her friends recoiled. “We just want you to be safe.”
“Sorry, sorry.” trinh settled down. “Just sensitive about that.”
The two seniors fussed around her for several more minutes. trinh eventually had to shoo them out. she loved them, she really did. They had helped her ready herself for tonight the second she had asked. It was simply a strain to be Trinh rather than trinh. The mask was still a burden, even if this Trinh fit better than the old one. It was easier when she was left alone. Sitting in class, seemingly intent upon the blackboard, her conscious mind barely there. Only enough to listen to the teacher drone on and on and file away the lesson into her memories. The outside world drowned out by the bells chiming deep in her mind. The constant melody allowed to the fore once more, soothing her into a pleasurable haze. trinh sank anew into the trance. The bells scattering worries and anticipation away while she stripped off her school clothes. Darkened the empty house. Lit tea candles set about the stairs and hallway, their flickering light tracing a path to her bedroom.
The bag from the lingerie shop was hidden in the back of her closet. Too little time during lunch to pick out what she needed. She had had to dawdle far too much gossiping with Bri and Rhianna. More time wasted convincing the proprietor that she was buying a surprise for an older cousin’s bachelorette party. It had been worth it. trinh held up the ivory satin corset. Expensive. Very expensive. Her purchases had almost drained her bank account to overdraft. No matter. The money had been given by her mother with admonitions to spend on “good clothes, dear, your wardrobe is too drab!” She had never used her allowance for such, only for the odd book. But for Him. Everything. trinh tied the stays to the closet doorknob. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward with as much force as she dared. The ribbons tightened. So tight. she panted when the corset nipped her waist inch by inch. By the time she tied the laces her face was red from lack of breath. trinh had to waste a few more minutes on hands and knees to recover.
Creamy thigh-highs held fast with bows. Three-inch high white bridal pumps, the ankle-straps secured with tiny brass padlocks bought from a luggage store next door to the lingerie shop. The stiff bridal veil tugged down over her face. Would Master be mad she had hidden herself? trinh did not know. He would punish her. Spank her. Subject her to the belt. she ground her wet thighs together. No, no, listen to the bells, become ready. trinh donned the elbow-length fingerless lace gloves last. she examined herself in the mirror. A bride. The bells chimed in her mind as if from a church steeple. a bridal offering, she was but a thing, Master’s pet, but special, she wanted it to be special. For Him. For her first. she knelt on her heels, knees spread, facing the door. Wrists crossed behind her. A little like the books she had once found hidden in the back of Brandon’s closet, badly written books with “of” in the titles, long speeches about women as slaves filling page after page. she had re-read them avidly before her friends had come over. How to kneel. To crawl. To ready herself for pleasure.
He was here. she knew. Not by sound or sight. By the force of His presence, just as she had seen in science class, a deep hollow in the fabric of space she circled and circled down and down until one day she would reach bottom and disappear into Him forever. trinh whimpered. Closer. Closer. The smell of the pizza he carried, the excuse he had to come over so late, wafting through the hallway. she bowed her head. Swaying to the bells. Ringing while she walked down the aisle, near naked, to take her vow. ‘Til death do us part. A sharp intake of breath. Was he displeased? The bells overwhelmed all fear and doubt. If she was displeasing he could end her, she would welcome it. His to use or discard. His touch on her cheek, fingers tracing the lines of her features beneath the veil. Moaning, trinh could not help arching her naked pussy, bare of any panties, toward Him. His touch was tentative. Unsure. Stroking her neck. Lingering over her breasts, offered up to him by the corset’s bodice. Hot juice gushed down her thighs at the touch of his fingers on her nipples, clumsy, so good, pinching, lifting them free of the scrim of lace covering them.
“I’ve—” Master lifted away the veil. His expression obscured by shadows cast by the flickering candles. “Pet, sorry. Not much practise, you know.”
“No, is gooooood,” she slurred. Lost. Bells. So loud. “more, touch so nice—”
“You did this.” He sat on the bed. His fingers running through her hair, freeing them of the braid. Allowing it to hang loose over her shoulders. “This is incredible. Thank you.”
“All for You.” trinh swayed. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be sad, i know You are, just allow trinh to be Yours.”
“Yes.” His tone husky. “Mine.”
“just—” trinh shivered. “let the bells ring. i want like before, let them just take me away and away.”
“Are you sure?” Master tilted her head back, cupping her chin. “It scared you before. Like your mind dying away.”
“not now.” trinh closed her eyes. Readying herself. “understand. peace. peace.”
ching
Master flicked her right earring.
ching
Her left.
CHING
Both.
Silver bells everywhere. trinh fell down and down into the cacaphony. Her robes of memory and identity flying off as she fell down and down into the bells in the depths of her mind. Not afraid now, for she knew she could put them on again when Master commanded her. Or not—he might keep her like this. It was all one and the same. Nothing now save the peace of no thought as the slave-bells erased everything except purpose. trinh leaned forward, free of shame and fear. she unzipped her Master’s jeans. Deft fingers freed his shaft. It stuck up high, erect. The head purple, shielded by a hood of skin. trinh had thought “Schneider” might mean Jewish, but not. No matter. Master gripped her hair to bring her close. Eyes half-lidded, lost in the dream of belltrance, she bent to attend. Lips kissed the base of his cock. He quivered. Perhaps he might erupt now. Bathe her with His sperm. The gush did not come. trinh kissed up the shaft, the taste of him slightly acrid on her tongue. Slowly. Slowly. Her lips hovered over the head. An exploratory lick. Both hands in her hair clutching. Guiding. Her lace-gloved hands took hold, one supporting his cock while the other peeled back the foreskin. trinh lapped the exposed head, teasing it with her tongue, memories now in her mind. Not hers, but of another, a princess, kneeling on a Persian rug, attending to a swarthy man in robes. The Arab’s taste becoming Master’s. her mouth engulfing him. Lips sliding down and down...then up. Bobbing. ching Bobbing. ching Licking, tongue swirling over glans and slit, then down and up and down like a bell swaying from side to side ching ching ching.
trinh cried out when Master threw her on her stomach on the bed. Had she been too fast? Too clumsy? Wrists jerked behind her. The white silk scarf draped on a bedpost, offered just for this, binding them. Master gripped her hips. Flipping her onto her bound arms. trinh could not see, lost, so lost, only Master’s touch, his weight, guiding into her. So wet. His almost-agonized hiss when he drove himself into her. Years of cheerleading practise had sundered the barrier that might have been there, yet still it was a shock. She was so tight despite her arousal. A sob of fear ripped from her before the bells chimed loudly and brought her down again to peace and lust and obedience. Easier now, her body changing, healing, altering to accomodate her Master. He pounded into her. Eager, too eager, a dozen strokes only before he arched and came and filled her with her seed. It didnt matter. The bells within her rang and rang and it was so much and pleasure like silver fire rippling through her so much and the bells chiming all thought gone just Master and existence. If her mind cracked now into a million billion pieces it would be perfect. Utterly perfect.
trinh wailed through the hand clamped tight over her mouth to silence her passionate scream.
CHING
ching
ching
Peace. Her Master slumped over her, exhausted. trinh waited.
ching
trinh drifted.
ching
Slept.
ching
Rain pattered against his bedroom window as Richard slowly explored his slave’s body. With the few girls he had known before this there had never been time. Furtive meetings behind a cabin or the school or on the couch in front of the television. Fumbling touches over clothing, always afraid of discovery and of what they were doing. Not now. His parents were away at a movie, Trinh’s family told she was out at the library. He had a few hours to enjoy Trinh at his leisure. She lay upon the covers, nude, gazing up at the ceiling with sleepy eyes. Her only movements were the slight rise and fall of her chest and the twitch of her muscles at his touch. Her lips parted while he traced the line of cheek and nose and brow. The only sound she made was a gentle sigh as fingertips traced her lips. Try as she might, the words he had whispered as he flicked her earrings would keep her in place. Stay still. Be silent. Each touch inducing sleepiness and arousal. Her eyelids fluttered with each caress.
Muscles bunched like wires when his hands roamed down throat and shoulder. Trapped by her trance, she could not resist as he cupped a breast. It was just perfect. Full yet scaled to her slim, petite form. A handful of firm flesh that yielded just a bit beneath kneading fingers. Bending down, he brushed lip all around the base of her breast. Her breath hitched once. Resumed. He could sense the tension in her body as he kissed in a slow spiral around and up. Tension that could find no release until he commanded it. His tongue licked and tasted salt and that indefinable taste of girl. Up and up, no hurry, kisses soft and long, until the moment when pursed lips took in the stiff nub crowning her breast. A shift, every so slight. He tickled an earring, bells chiming, to settle her down. Trinh did not move a fraction of an inch while he continued suckling upon her nipple. Teeth and tongue and lips teased it to aching tautness. A nip sent ripples coursing up and down her supine body. Then over to the other, lapping the salty sweat off her smooth skin.
Richard kissed down. He stroked her flanks, cupped her hips, ran his fingers over her slightly-parted thighs. Tongue delved into her navel, swirling, until it passed down to the V between her legs. They parted to his touch without resistance despite the twitches running through them. He studied the bare pink folds with an odd detachment. Engorged, the lips of her slit pouted to reveal hints of the mysteries within. It called out for a thorough investigation. Trinh uttered a single mumur that swiftly died as he ran a tongue up her cleft from bottom to top. An interesting taste. Not as harsh as he had been led to believe. Careful not to blow air past them, he delved past the outer folds into the inner lips. His tongue stiffened and slipped into her depths. Very interesting taste. Thumbs resting on her mons parted them wider. He kissed and licked up and up. There was a hint of raggedness in her breath. A thumb rested at the apex of her sex. Was it there? He peeled away her small hood. Was it...oh yes. Trinh uttered a low moan when three fingers impaled her. Richard arched them, pumping slowly, as his tongue lapped her clit. He felt it stiffen beneath his tongue while flat strokes followed by gentle licks circled the sensitive bud. Her sex clamped down upon his fingers; her inner walls rippled against them. The scent of her need filled his world. Time. He had all the time in the world to learn. Hours of laving her clit fast and slow, finding the right combination of touch and speed and angle of his fingers. He lost himself in the strange territories of his slave’s body. Helpless, she lay quiet and still. The only sign of her desire a soft mewl and her heels digging into the bedspread. He kept her there for a very long time. Then, with one last nibble against her clit, he tapped her thigh once twice thrice.
Her hips bucked up. She arched against his fingers. Richard pressed mouth to pussy to drink of her release. She clutched the coverlet, mouth a wide O, while his tongue lapped the juices of an explosive climax. By the time she collapsed onto the bed, Richard had drunk his fill. He stroked her brow while she awoke from the spell. Shivering, she wriggled into her arms. He rocked her for several moments, kissing her, until the final spasms ended. He spoke a word. Trinh’s eyes glazed over once again in the haze of trance. Swaying, she walked towards the shower. He enjoyed watching her flexing asscheeks before she left the room. Another terrain feature he intended to survey very thoroughly. The clock caught his eye. Noon. He smirked. He was hardly hungry, but he bet Trinh could use some grub. Calling out for her to join him, he threw on a coat and clomped down the apartment building stares. The weather outside was spitting. Bracing himself, he dashed the few steps to Pendelli’s doorway. The heat coming from the huge oven in the back turned the pizzeria into a sauna.
“Richard, hi!” Brianna Madison waved from one of the tables crammed into the small space. “I just ordered. Want to sit with?”
“Uh, glad to.” Richard waved at Mr. Pendelli. “Could I have a half all-dressed, half pepperoni?”
“Coming up,” Mr. Pendelli said. His walrus moustache twitched. “That girl of yours must be over, you always order the same thing.”
“Extracurricular activities, looks good on the college application.” Richard suddenly remembered he was not alone at the table. “I mean, study date. For school.”
“The kind of date that comes with a glow?” Brianna cut a piece off her small pizza with fork and knife. Bright blue eyes flicked up. Amused. “Don’t have to pretend with me, Richard. Complete approval here. Just tell me you’re being careful with her.”
“No, no accidents.” It was, in a way, the truth. Richard suspected Haroun Al-Azif’s enchantment extended to certain...inconveniences. “She’s told you about us?”
“Gushing, actually.” Brianna paused and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Pretty recently too, by the looks of it.”
“Oh Jeebus.” Richard hunched down. “I have got to pay closer attention.”
“I’d never have thought our mouse would have found the nerve,” Brianna said. She stared out the window at the rain-swept street. “I’m glad she found a guy, a good guy. It’s not easy.”
“Thought you’d have your pick.”
“You would. Popular girl and that.” Brianna toyed with her half-eaten meal. “Honestly, I haven’t met anyone I like for a long time. My natural dating pool is filled with schmucks. Like Trinh’s brother, though don’t tell her I said that.”
“Secret’s safe with me,” Richard assured her. “I can keep your secrets if you keep mine. Seriously, nobody else? It’s a big school and not everyone who isn’t on the Team runs with the nerd herd.”
“So sue me, I’m a snob like the rest.” Brianna rested her chin on a clenched fist. “The boys that aren’t run off by Brandon and his buddies I don’t notice. Terrible thing to say, you know, but it’s true.”
“Nah, you’ll find somebody.” Richard chuckled. “Why not Enzo in the back? Big arms, funny, and hey comes with employee discount at Pendelli’s.”
“Oh very cute. Now I know why Trinh dates you.” The blonde winked. “Come to think of it, maybe I should too. Wouldn’t that be cool? Your own harem of cheerleaders. I bet Rhianna would get in on it too.”
“Where the hell—” Richard’s jaw dropped.
“Trinh joked about it once,” Brianna said. “I told her yesterday that I liked her earrings. She told me that if I wanted a pair I could ask you, although I’d have to become your slavegirl or something like that. Trinh’s can be funny when she has a couple glasses of Wild Irish Rose in her.”
“Hilarious.” For a second, there was a weight in his right pocket... No!
“Well, I think I’d look hot in harem—Damn!” Brianna frowned. “Richard, could you tell Mr. Pendelli I’m not running out? I’m a dollar short and have to grab some change from my car.”
Brianna dashed across the street to her car. Pre-occupied, Richard didn’t offer to take a bill from his own wallet. Trinh told others about the bells? Even if tipsy, she would not casually let slip such information even if it had could be laughed off as a joke. He knew all too well how deep the hold of the bells was on her psyche. It must have been calculated. He shivered at a memory from the night he had conditioned Trinh into slavery: “i can take one of the bells and make sure she believes.” Ready to enthrall one of her closest friends if there was a risk of exposure. Friends who she knew he had fancied. Was still attracted to, admittedly. She had been ordered to tell no one about her enslavement. But wasn’t the imperative to serve and please her Master stronger? Making him happy by offering up her beautiful friends by putting him a position where he had no choice except to take them? He was definitely going to have a long conversation this afternoon to head off that kind of logic.
He was about to go back to the apartment when he heard the roar of a car engine. And then a loud thump.
Portia gripped the steering wheel.
We should see other people, he had said. His snide tone over the phone. That arrogant bastard had dared to break up with her. Her!
I’m just not that into you.
Tires squealed as she took the curve around Montrose Park twenty miles above the recommended speed.
Just because she had lost her place on the squad. Just because she was clumsy and they couldn’t find out why even with MRI’s and tests.
Everything. Lost everything.
Portia slalomed through the puddled streets downtown, aimlessly driving. Not caring where she went.
I’ll get him. I swear. Maybe through that little bitch sister of his, wouldn’t Brandon just love it if it became general knowledge Trinh was dating a geek like that stupid pizza boy.
That fucking pizza boy, he was in on it, it had all gone wrong since then. She would find out somehow how he had done it. Hurt him. Make him—
Portia gasped. Through the windshield wipers appeared a flash of blonde hair. Brianna, walking across the street. A street that was wet and the car was going much much too fast.
Later she told everyone that she had tried to hit the brake instead of the accelerator. She had. She swore to herself she had. It was just that she was so clumsy these days. So very clumsy.
Richard screamed at Mr. Pendelli to call 911. The rain drenched him as he ran out. The car had slewed to a stop across the street, blocking traffic. Portia Caldwell sat in the front street, hands clapped over her mouth, while she stared at the crumpled figure in the middle of the road. He ignored her, kneeling beside Brianna, holding his coat over her to shield her from the rain. Not that it mattered. Bile soured his throat. The human body shouldn’t bend that way. He heard Trinh scream from the doorway, Enzo shouting while he laid out flares to warn off drivers coming from the other direction. They faded into insignificance while he listened to Brianna’s laboured breathing. Her breathing hitched every few seconds, more crimson froth staining her lips. Blue eyes opened and stared at the asphalt.
“Bri, don’t move,” he babbled. Sirens wailed in the distance. Come on! “We have the street blocked off, it’ll be okay. Just don’t move no matter how much you want to.”
“I—” Brianna coughed. “I can’t. I can’t feel anything, I’m trying.”
“Don’t think about that.” He brushed damp hair from her brow. “Let the docs at the ER worry about that.”
“I can’t feel anything.” Another laboured breath. “Rich, tell my mom and sister I love them, that I love them so much, please—”
“Don’t. Think,” Richard growled. He had to distract her until help came. The sirens wailed closer. Faster!
“Give Mr. Pendelli—” Her body shuddered. “Ah. Ah.....”
“Fuck fuck fuck—” What to do? Here she was, he couldn’t do anything, nothing.
Wait.
Heal all flaws.
The box appeared in his hands.
No. Had to be another choice. Had to be.
“Brianna.” He wiped her cheek dry with a shirt cuff. “I think I can help. But there’s a price. A really big price.”
“Ah—I can’t feel anything can’t breathe—” Brianna sobbed. “Price, anything, I’ll—”
“It’s the price Trinh paid by accident. The price she told you about.”
“What?” Sky-blue eyes flicked up to him. “Richard, PLEASE! I’d pay even tha—tha—ahhhhhhhh—”
Richard bowed his head. “Brianna Madison, I chain you body, heart, and mind.” The box clicked open.
The tinkling of the bells could be heard even over the siren’s wail.
trinh crept through the quiet hospital corridors. Master had once ordered her never to hide herself. Tonight, though he gave her leave to use her old skills. she flitted from door to door, concealing herself in shadow, whenever a doctor or nurse on rounds passed by. Years of practise made her very good at not attracting attention. Peering a corner, she spotted Brianna’s parents slumped into a couch by the door to her friend’s private room in the ICU. Hours of waiting to hear if their daughter would survive had taken its toll; they did not rouse when she eased past them, hand slowly twisting the doorknob to ensure the click would not disturb their rest. Closing the door, she faced the figure sleeping in the bed. The soft beep of a heartbeat monitor was the only sound in the room. Well, the only sound save the chime of bells strung on the delicate silver chains around Brianna’s ankles. Above them were padded leather hospital restraints fastened to the bed-rails. Another set around her wrists ensured that she would not hurt herself if convulsions wracked her body. trinh had overheard a doctor saying Brianna had suffered seizures soon after being brought in.
He had been puzzled. A girl with that much apparent damage to her spine should not have been able to move at all.
trinh understood. There would be further amazement at her friend’s recovery. The changes were already happening. Underneath the bandages covering half her face, Brianna’s features were slowly shifting. Improving. The blonde was already beautiful. In a few hours she would be stunning. trinh tucked tiny earphones into her injured friend’s ears. The fully-charged MP3 player set to repeat was tucked beneath the pillow, the cables leading out of it hidden beneath the spray of golden hair fanned out over the pillowcase. The player would not drown out the bells. Nothing could. Brianna stirred when trinh moved aside the covers. A muted protest came as toned thighs were parted. The cuffs at wrist and ankle prevented her from interfering when trinh strapped the butterfly vibe into place. she centered the butterfly over her friend’s hooded clit, elastic straps around waist and upper thighs holding it firm. trinh indulged herself for a moment in caressing Brianna’s already bare, pink mons. she had never been attracted to women. Master had changed that with gentle words, rocking her in his arms while she cried, the bells chiming.
“Muh.” Brianna roused.
“hello, my sister,” trinh said.
“Sist—” Brianna groaned. “Trinh? I feel so strange.”
“i know, it is scary at first.” trinh popped out one earbud so her friend might understand better. “but it will be easier for you.”
“You sound so—” Brianna’s eyes opened wide. Startled. Shocked. “What are you doing?”
“readying you to become Master’s slave.” trinh kissed her. “he told you the price.”
“Stop!” Weakly, Brianna writhed against her restraints. A fortunate coincidence they had been applied. “That can’t be—”
“i am sorry for trying to trick you before.” trinh flipped a switch on a control wired to the butterfly. she dialed it to a gentle hum. “it is better you chose. Master would feel so bad if he thought he had taken another slave without her understanding.”
“Ahhhhhh.” Brianna shuddered. “I—I can feel, I can move... trinh, this can’t be, please stop, I can’t..I...i....”
trinh stoppered brianna’s mouth with a thick wad of gauze filched from a nurse’s cart. A white strip of medical tape sealed it in. Replacing the earbud, she started the recording. Over an hour of Master’s commands, to be repeated over and over through the night. The vibrator reinforcing the conditioning with pleasure. brianna slumped back, eyes dreamily gazing at nothing, as the anklets jingled with each shudder the butterfly induced in her body. trinh sat in a lotus position by the door. Sinking into herself. Disregarding her fellow slavegirl’s weak struggles against the bells and Master’s voice invading the depths of her mind. tring only listened for the footstep of a family member or doctor or nurse. she would quickly remove evidence of brianna’s conditioning before they came in, and hide in the closet until they left. trinh would ensure nothing interfered with brianna becoming a happy slave. a loving slave. Master’s slave.
Forever.