Authors: Gail Starbright
He asked me what I thought of my parents and what I thought
of my government. I don’t remember the specific answers I gave him. But I do
remember the emotions that poured through me—the despair that my parents sold
me to my government, the betrayal that my government decided my fate. But above
all else, I remember the rage.
After the emotional storm passed and he purged me of the
pent-up anger I didn’t even know I had, he assaulted my body with a steady
stream of strange toys and clamps. He said it was my punishment for withholding
information from him. He told me I wasn’t allowed any secrets or buried
resentment. He made me feel things I’ve never imagined. Some of it hurt a
little, like the metal clamps he placed on my nipples and pussy lips…but it
didn’t hurt in a bad way. He called it erotic pain.
He also introduced me to dildos and plugs. At first I
pouted, wanting his cock and not a toy, but he showed me how a dildo could fill
my sheath while he mercilessly fucked my ass. He called it double penetration.
At the very end, after he untied me and just before he
carried my spent and exhausted body upstairs, he told me to call him Master,
which I did, not because I was afraid of him or because I didn’t want to
provoke him, but because in that brief and strange moment, he was my Master.
I’m still struggling emotionally with what happened in his
cellar. I haven’t called him Master since then and he hasn’t asked me to again.
The bedroom door opens. As usual, he’s dressed in his
uniform, except his coat is draped over his arm. But today, he’s carrying
several brightly colored gift bags. I’m too nervous to even wonder what’s in
the bags, worrying instead we’re going downstairs to his cellar again. He tilts
his head at me.
“You look nervous,” he declares, setting down the gift bags
on the floor by the bed. He drapes his coat over the footboard.
I only shrug, trying to look aloof.
“In case you’re wondering, I’m not taking you down to the
cellar tonight.”
Relief washes through me.
He walks closer to me and then kneels down on the floor.
“Although I do think it’s time we talk about what happened down there.”
I only shrug again in a feeble attempt to be nonchalant.
“No response?” he prods.
“I don’t know,” I barely whisper.
“Well, I think you liked what I did to you, and I think you
liked calling me Master, but I also think it scared you because it was more
intense than what we usually do, which is why you’re nervous about going back
in my cellar.”
It unnerves me just how well he knows me. My eyes
unwillingly meet his. “Maybe,” I reluctantly whisper.
“Maybe,” he mutters, tilting his head. The skull pin on his
hat catches the light as he moves. He polished it last night along with every
buckle and snap on his belt.
He rises up a bit before gently kissing my forehead. “The
only remedy for our situation is time, American. Now stop worrying. I won’t
take you back down there until I know you’re ready.”
A bit nervously, I fiddle with the electronic game still in
my hands. My captor is beginning to bring out deeper and even more confusing
emotions from me. Unable to say anything, I simply stare at the mute device in
my hands.
“You still like your toy?” he asks.
“Uh…yes, I do.” I look up at him. “Very much.” I’m relieved
he changed the subject. It still kinda freaks me out just how easy it was to
call him Master.
“I thought you might. I purchased the most difficult level
for you, so it should stay challenging.” He turns toward the colored gift bags
on the floor.
“What’s in the bags?” I ask, putting down the game.
“I bought you a few things. I want to take you to the opera
tonight.”
Giddiness washes through me. “Out? Really?”
“I was thinking you’ve been cooped up for a couple of weeks
now. I thought you’d like a night out.”
“Yes, I would.”
“But if you give me any trouble, I’ll never take you out
again.”
I wasn’t even thinking about trying anything, but I’m not
going to admit that to him. “I understand,” I reply evenly.
“Good. I trust you can figure out what to do with all this.”
“What is it?” I ask, kneeling on the floor next to the bags.
“Some of it is makeup, there are also some shoes. I
basically purchased anything I thought you might need. I also had a designer
make a gown for you. I gave him your blue dress to use as a pattern, so the
gown should fit. If not, I had the blue one cleaned. They’re both in this box.”
He points to a rectangular-shaped red box that’s peeking out of a matching gift
bag.
“When I was in the designer’s studio, I saw a dress hanging
up. I thought it would look nice on you, and the designer told me it should be
your size. It’s not appropriate for tonight, but I’d like to see it on you
sometime in the spring.”
Spring? It’s still technically fall, though winter is just
around the corner. He’s buying me clothes for spring?
He picks up a small silver gift bag. “And this bag has your
jewelry.” He sets it on the nightstand by the bed. “Since you’ll be on my arm
tonight, you’ll be expected to be in jewelry. I bought some pieces that flatter
both the blue and the red, though I’d prefer the red tonight. I trust you can
prepare yourself in four hours.”
“Yes, I can.”
“Very good. I’ll be in my office working.”
With a polite nod, he turns and leaves me. I’m curious about
the bags’ contents, and I debate where I should begin.
I decide to look at the jewelry first and open the silver
bag on the nightstand. There are several white boxes inside, and I eagerly
retrieve one. I carefully pull off the small lid. There’s a black, velvet box
inside, and I gently open it. It’s a pair of earrings.
I’m certainly not an expert on such matters, but the
earrings look like rubies and diamonds. They’re almost too ornate to be real. I
tilt the earrings toward the light, and the clear stones reflect intense shades
of orange and yellow. I don’t know if they’re real or not but they’re
beautiful, and if they are real, which they probably are, they must have cost a
considerable fortune. Not wanting to lose them, I close the velvet box.
I decide to stow them in the top drawer of the nightstand
until I’m ready to put them on. Pulling out another box, which is bigger, I
find a necklace that matches the earrings. It’s just as ornate with three thick
rows of what look like diamonds and rubies. A large teardrop pendant, heavy
with red and clear stones, immediately catches my eye. Like the earrings, the
clear stones reflect intense hues of orange and yellow.
After stowing the necklace next to the earrings, I reach in
the bag and retrieve another small box. It’s another pair of earrings, only it
has clear and blue stones. The design is a little different, but they’re just
as elaborate and beautiful. I can only guess that the stones are sapphires and
diamonds, but I’m not sure.
After carefully going through the bag, I learn he bought me
two pairs of earrings, two necklaces and two bracelets. One matching set looks
like rubies and diamonds while the other looks like sapphires and diamonds.
Somehow, I can’t quite process that he just bought me so
much expensive jewelry. It’s not that I’m so materialistic that I’m swayed by
his bank balance, it’s just that…would he spend this much money just to turn
around and kill me? Can I really trust him?
I neatly stow the jewelry in the top drawer of one of the
empty nightstands. After ensuring I took everything out of the gift bag, I pull
the tissue paper out, fold it up and then flatten the bag.
I move to a large pink bag on the floor and then carefully
kneel down next to it. This bag is lined with pink and gold tissue paper. There
are several bottles inside including a bottle of body wash, a tube of face
wash, shampoo, conditioner, body lotion, face moisturizer, body splash, bubble
bath, body powder and a pink bath sponge. All of the bottles have matching pink
and gold labels, very feminine.
I open the bottle of shampoo and bring it to my nose. It
smells like flowers. I close the shampoo before setting it down on the floor
with the other bath products. Wanting to keep everything organized, I decide to
stow the bath products in the bottom drawer of the same nightstand, at least
for now. I may leave a few things in the bathroom later.
Rummaging through another bag, which is pink and black and
also lined with tissue paper, I find another bottle of face moisturizer,
foundation, concealer, powder, blush, eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, lipstick,
as well as a set of makeup brushes, a mirror, a makeup bag and a bottle of
makeup remover. Looking at the colors, I realize he even got flattering shades
that match my skin tone.
In the same pink and black bag, there’s also three bottles
of perfume and some scented body lotion. I can tell all of it is higher-end
cosmetics and fragrances.
I neatly stow the makeup and perfume in the second drawer of
the same nightstand, glancing briefly at a clock to check the time. In another
bag, which is black-and-white, I find a hair brush, a comb, hair gel, mousse,
hair spray and some kind of mysterious, goopy product in a jar.
There’s also a hair dryer, a curling iron, a hair
straightener and a crimping wand. I also find some bobby pins, which makes me
laugh because that’s how I picked his handcuffs the first night. Chuckling to
myself about the bobby pins, I also find some rubber bands and hairclips.
I discard as much of the packaging as I can before neatly
stowing the hair products in the same drawer as the cosmetics. I add the
packaging, the empty gift bag and the folded tissue paper to my neat pile next
to the nightstand. Giddiness washes over me. This is fun—tearing through tissue
paper, opening gift bags and boxes.
There are still four gift bags left to explore. In a
smaller, simpler bag, I find some products that give me a little more pause.
There are three toothbrushes,
more
body lotion and face moisturizer—even
though there was some in the other bags—disposable razors, antiperspirant, nail
clippers, three bottles of nail polish, a small manicure kit, toothpaste, a
loofah and some feminine hygiene products. There are also several fashion
magazines, some paperback books and even bubble gum. It all screams
so…long-term.
I can’t help but smile at all the products he bought. It’s
as if he went to several stores and told the staff, “Sell me everything a woman
would use,” which apparently they did.
There’s some room left in the bottom drawer of the same
nightstand, and I store the drug store items alongside the bath products he
bought me, though I stack the magazines and paperback books on the top.
I turn to the large red bag he pointed to earlier, the one
he said had the dress in it. I pull the box out and set it on the bed before
carefully opening it. Wrapped in gold tissue paper is a folded red dress.
Pulling it out, I realize it’s heavy with elaborate beadwork. It’s much more
ornate than my blue dress.
In the same box, I find my old blue dress, clean and folded
in some tissue paper. After setting aside the two dresses, I find the third
dress on the bottom, the one he said he wanted me to wear in the spring.
It’s bright pink with spaghetti straps. I hold it up to my
body. It hits me about mid-thigh. It’s adorned here and there with satin
ribbons and tiny bows. He’s right. It’s very spring. To be honest, the pink
dress kinda freaks me out. Again and again, he keeps making this sound long-term.
Curious about whether or not it’ll fit, I slip off his button-down shirt and
quickly slip on the flared pink dress. I walk to the mirror and take in my
image. It fits.
I’m not sure why, but I want to show him what it looks like.
I quickly dismiss trying to get his attention though. He said he wanted me to
get ready for tonight, besides, I don’t know what the hell I’d call him. A part
of me is tempted to call him Master again, as I did in his cellar…but I don’t.
I slip the pink dress off and walk back to the bed before setting it down. I’m
torn between trying on the red dress next or going through the other bags. I
decide to explore the other gift bags next. I slip his dress shirt back on,
just to keep warm.
In the next bag, I find three pairs of shoes that match each
dress as well as a lovely red wrap and my navy coat.
The thick wrap, which beautifully matches the red dress, is
also padded and lined with something plush and soft. There’s even a small,
zippered pouch on the inside that’s just big enough for a few small items. I’m
actually grateful for the wrap. It’ll probably be cold outside, and it might be
chilly in the theater. My captor is quite good at anticipating my wants and
needs.
I’m tempted to tidy up a bit. I’d like to hang up some
clothes and put away the extra shoes, but I have no idea if the ensemble he
wants me to wear tonight will even fit. I may have to wear the blue out of
sheer necessity.
A bit hesitantly, I slip on the lovely red shoes first.
Heavy with beadwork and elaborate crystals, they almost look like jewelry for
my feet. Holding my breath, I sit on the bed and strap them on. I cautiously
stand up. Much to my relief they fit, except they’re a bit spikier than I’m
used to.
I once again shrug off his button-down shirt before tossing it
on the bed.
I pick up the beaded red dress before gingerly slipping it
over my head. It’s beautiful, and I’m a little nervous that the dress won’t fit
me right, which is why I think I hesitated to try it on earlier.
After letting the ankle-length garment fall around me, I
reach for the zipper, which is actually on the side, and zip it up. Much to my
relief, I can zip it! And it feels like it fits. I walk to the mirror and study
my reflection. Not only does it fit, but it even hits me in all the right places.
My blue dress was from a consignment shop and it was a little too big for me,
but the red dress fits me much better. My captor must have gotten my exact
measurements at one point. There’s no other explanation.