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This work Copyright (C) 2001, by Caitlain McCarren. I reserve all rights of distribution not otherwise expressly granted herein.
Should you like my works and wish to add my story to your collection, you are at liberty to do so for personal use as proscribed by the Berne Convention and U. S. Copyright law pertaining to fair use. In addition, electronic distribution is allowed through BBS or the Internet as long as the text retains my by-line, copyright data, and signature, and no fee for this transmission is charged or required by the transmitter. Transmission or distribution by all other modes; print, duplication to optical or magnetic media, and such other modes as may be currently or ultimately provided, are expressly forbidden. I, Caitlain McCarren, retain all rights to such transmission. In addition, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to or association with persons living or dead is coincidental. I describe situations, which without proper care could cause bodily harm or injury. Fiction is best left as such. Don't attempt any of what is described herein without providing utmost care and consideration before the fact. To close, this story, while work of fiction, describes adult situations. If you are not yet of the age of majority, or if accessing, reading, possessing, or distributing material of this nature is illegal in your community; or if such material offends you, I invite you to leave now, before you begin.

I felt the whoosh of air as the door opened, and, through the hood, heard the metallic clank as it crashed against the stone wall of my prison cell. She tugged at the rope binding my right ankle to my tightly bound wrists and released it to thud limply to the floor, asleep. Asleep for what seemed to me to be days. Days of merciless rope restraint.
She unlatched the rope holding the bar that put the twist in the tether between my elbows, bound together for all this unknown period, and used to pull me up and stand me on the toes of my left foot. I felt the sudden release and ducked, instinctively, the spinning bar lest it strike me in the head, adding insult to my injuries, and felt some minor form of relief as my four inch stiletto heel touched ground.
I was still unable to shift my foot for the stock used to keep me from spinning myself free of my bondage. "Have to go to the bathroom?" she asked hurriedly. I nodded affirmatively. She unlatched the hood and unscrewed the metal bands securing it to me and maintaining my head in constant compression since she was here last. The sudden rush of blood to the top of my head only increased the amplitude of the throbbing already there. She unlatched the foot stock and helped me free myself, then grabbed stiffly at my shoulder and motioned me along to the dirtier little room with what once must have passed for a commode.
She stood me in front of it and forced me into a semi-squat, not allowing me to sit. I voided myself as she donned rubber gloves and minimally cleaned me up. I murmured my relief past my brank, causing her to comment "Shut up!, you cunt. No communication beyond yes and no." She marched me back to the dark little 4x6 foot room with the single bare bulb. She backed me up to the foot stock and placed my left foot back in it, latching it shut. She connected the tether to my elbows again and used the rope to tie my right foot once again to my wrists.
"Hungry?" she asked. Again I nodded affirmatively. She released the tension on my brank and removed it from my mouth, admonishing me, "Not a peep out of you, little one. Don't make me angrier than I already am." She picked up the pot of nauseating gruel, now turned, and there since I can remember. She scooped out a dollop and sniffed, gagging. "How can you eat this, little one." I hungrily snapped at it when offered, smart enough not to respond to her rejoinder, "I certainly couldn't eat that." She scooped out and offered another at arms length and forced me to sniff at it while I tried to liberate it from the spoon with my tongue. I caught a whiff and turned my head to stifle the gag, but when I came back up, caught the spoon in my mouth and swallowed hard, laughing back at her teasing with my eyes. "Well, quite enough of that. Thirsty?" she asked, showing me the bottle of water. I nodded, again. She pulled the cork on the bottle and inserted a straw all the way to the bottom. "Take a breath, dear one." I took a big breath, not knowing what she was about, until she reached up and covered my mouth and pinched my nose. "Now, you can have only as much water as you can now draw through the straw until you have to breath out. Start to catch your breath and the water goes away, got it?" I nodded again and she put the straw to my lips. I started to draw, expanding my chest as much as I could. It was enough to splash a little on my tongue, was all. Not enough, even, to swallow as it was instantly absorbed on my parched lips. Worse, the effort had seemingly caused a muscle pull in my chest and I now felt a stabbing pain under my left breast. She pinched my nipples hard, both at the same time and sent a knife hot pain all the way to my groin.
"There, there, dear." she whispered as I gritted my teeth hard to prevent my crying out. "Feeling better?"
She paused a moment and said "Take a breath, dear." She looked crushed when I wouldn't comply. "Won't play? I've half a mind to truss you back up and leave."
"Please, Mistress!" I blurted out.
"That will cost you the bite of the whip latter." She calmly replied, continuing, "Since you are talking, tell me something. Make it something I want to hear. It has been some time since I heard you're voice. I think I miss it, just a little."
This I understood to be my one chance to grovel and possibly see some release from this hell sometime in this lifetime. I leapt before I thought, knowing, if I took to long..., "Mistress, I'm sorry, so sorry, I was masturbating. It's just that it had been so many days since you had payed any attention to me at all. I guess I thought... I wasn't thinking... I was just mad, mad I tell you. Mad with the thought you may not want me anymore. Mad to know you could have other concerns. Jealous, I was jealous. Jealous of your time with her, the new one. If you could have just reassured..."
She interrupted, "Jealous, were you. You did that to get my attention? Got it you did. Is this true?"
The look on my face as she stared me down told her the truth of it. "Then it is as much a failure on my part as it was on yours. Yes. I see that now. I see I've been much too relaxed with your training as my slave. I didn't see that you needed the structure and conditioning, so. So, we shall redouble our efforts, you and I, and we shall make it right. You cannot be jealous of my time you silly fool. You have no rights in this regard. Have you forgotten you live to serve me? Jealous indeed! Surely you must understand you have no control in my domain."
After a long silence, not able to think of anything else to say, too stupid to shut up, I offered. "I have no good excuse, Mistress. You can trust I'll never let it happen again."
After an equally long silence, she began, "I have failed you, and for that I'm sorry. I won't beg your forgiveness. Rest assured you need not fear expulsion from my dominion." I breathed a sigh of relief. She claimed the entire world as her dominion. Dispatch surely meant death. "At least, not just yet. I still see a glimmer of hope for your submission. As for it happening again, well this incident will be a distant memory before you have opportunity to do it again. From this day forward you will wear restraint. We will work to purge you of these petty jealousies. As you have assuredly already noticed we have an excellent start."
She went to the door and brought back the goody case. From it she returned with a blindfold and, of course blindfolded me. A few moments later the crack of the whip resounded through the very small room. "As I apply each of these twelve strokes you will count out and thank me for each, little one. For heaven's sake do not loose count, for we would positively have to start over, from the first. Don't let me think for a moment that you are not thankful for the attention I pay you now."
She kept me waiting, in anticipation, for the first. At last I heard it coming and gratefully accepted the first stroke, counting out "One, Mistress. Thank you Mistress." It caused me to shudder with pain and delight as it had wrapped around my leg and bit deeply into my thigh.
The next five came in quick succession, striking hard at both shoulders, both nipples, and down my stomach, seemingly tearing open my waist from navel to crotch. The last hurt badly and it was all I could do to express through gritted teeth "Six, Mistress. Thank you Mistress."
"Have you any questions you would have answer to, slave?" she asked as she flicked the whip and caught the instep of my forward foot. "Seven Mistress, Thank you, Mistress. I would like to know, Mistress, how long have I been in this dungeon?"
"To answer you," as she cracked the whip again, catching me incredibly accurately, just at the nerve under my kneecap, causing the leg to give out, leaving me hanging from the elbows, "Eight, mistress. Thank you, mistress," I cried out. "The time spent so far is irrelevant when compared to the amount of time you will spend here. Perhaps in just this pose. Anything else?" she inquired, flicking the whip yet again. This time wrapping my waist and leaving the mark on the left side above my already bruised kidney. "Nine, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress. Next week, Mistress, could I stand on my other foot."
"I'll give it some thought, whether it could be allowed." She responded, flicking the whip. The next three landed at various painful points as I counted out each and thanked her. I stood again, teetering dangerously. She removed the blindfold and offered me the brank, which I opened wide and accepted, obligingly. She covered my head with the hood, laced it tightly closed, turned the screw just a little tighter than before and just before she left, said "The 'new one' will be down shortly to tend these wounds. She will bear your restraint. I want you to think about her freedom to serve me as you cannot. Be clear about your failure as I have been about mine. Trust, dear, that we will correct your shortcomes. Until I come again."
I exalted that I had been allowed to plant the seeds to my eventual release from this torment. I planned how I might serve her better. I listened and was rewarded with the clank of the door lock.

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