Part 1: Back in the Saddle
To coordinate:
to bring together sources
and make them function.
Her captor, her lover, her new best friend, her trainer, her master looked haggard as he walked down the hall, but the look in his eyes when he came through the door melted her heart and her legs went to Jello. May knew she was blessed to have this man in her life. Obviously exhausted, he still radiated a power, a manly charisma that made her run to his arms and rub as much of her mostly naked body as she could against him.
She would have enjoyed throwing her arms around him, but she’d been wearing a single-sleeve arm binder since lunch. Her arms were trapped very close together behind her back in a fitted leather sack that had been laced together from just above her wrists to just above her elbows. Her greeting to him consisted of semi-muted squeals and inarticulate mumblings that he could interpret only because he understood gag-talk.
“Hi May, you look smokin’-hot, glistening like that. How are your lessons coming along?”
In response to his question, May kicked her leg straight out and up over her head, and then swung it gracefully in a full arc to the outside. With both of her high-heeled feet back on the ground she slid forward a bit, did a shimmy with her hips, rolling them back and forth and then kicked out with her other foot, doing the same move in reverse. She slipped her position sideways, leading with her hip, did it to the other side and then bent down at the knee and shimmied her way slowly erect before bending over at the waist. With her legs out a little past shoulder width and locked straight, she wagged her tits at him, then high-skip-stepped backwards a few feet before slinking forward a little to the left and then a little to the right. Dropping down onto her knees with her legs splayed wide open she wagged her tits at him again, got up surprisingly quickly and gracefully, and leapt into his arms.
When Duke caught her, he nudged her head to one side and then buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweating skin, licking lightly up the tendons jutting out and then delivering a fake vampire bite to her neck which elicited a muted scream and giggles of delight. Putting her down he removed her ball-gag and helped catch the drool with his handkerchief before passionately kissing his slave. With one hand in her long straight platinum-blonde hair and his other hand cupping her jaw, Duke controlled the kiss that got both of them excited.
Before things went further than he wanted them to, at the moment, Duke looked past May to her older female dance instructor.
“Bethany, it looks like you’re doing a splendid job with May. Thank you.”
“And thank you again, High Lord, for not requiring me to pay homage to you. These knees have had a long afternoon of training with May and the other girls I was with before her. The dispensation is greatly appreciated.”
“I’m not real big on the proprieties Bethany. You just keep working with May and getting her dance moves down and we’ll call that respect enough.”
“Gladly High Lord, ...”
“Duke.”
“Gladly Duke. May’s a joy to work with. She’s so motivated and open to criticism. Her ego is all wrapped up in doing what she has to do to please you. It makes me wonder what it would have been like to have been trained by you instead of your mentor, Roy.”
“You still haven’t joined my groom-cougar program yet. They could use someone that looks as good as you do.”
“To over-work the cliché Duke, my dance card is full with training others in how to dance. When your grooms need that, then I’m your slave, but until then, there’s only so many hours in a day for this old girl.”
“Nonsense, Bethany. Age is a mind set and you still have lots of life in you. At any rate, thanks again and we’ll see you in three days.”
“Practice when you can May. I wouldn’t want to disappoint this man,” and with that Bethany showed herself out.”
“Did you really like my little dance routine Duke? Was I sexy enough for you? I want to arouse you when I dance for you.”
“I’m thinking of some suspension as a reward.”
“Oooh, I like a good swing on the ropes, or just the soaring through space. Is there something special you’d like me to wear for you?”
“I’m thinking your evening uniform, in blue and coffee.”
“My blue boots, front-lace corset and leather gloves with coffee colored crotchless pantyhose coming up as soon as you release me from my sleeve my Duke. Will you be cooking your dinner, or should I?”
“No, I will. You’re going to be tied up.”
“Oh goody,” and May started beaming a smile at him.
“What, you don’t like practicing your culinary fare?”
“No Duke, I love cooking for you. I just like being tied up more,” and she giggled again.
“Lazy little rope slut.”
“Only every minute of every day my Duke. You did make me this way.”
“Okay, busted.”
“It’s not like I haven’t been tied up by you, or your proxy, every day since we met, or anything.”
“Well there were the two days you were kept unconscious right after your kidnapping, the one day Roy kept you tied up, and the first nine days I was in the hospital for taking those five bullets for you, but I guess I’m guilty for all the rest of the days you’ve spent in bondage.”
“Paul kept me well tied up for those nine days you were convalescing. And you were quickly back in the saddle as far as keeping me helpless, even if it took you a while to get back in my saddle. I really missed you inside of me.”
“Hey, I did too. Okay, let’s get you out of that sleeve, changed and fed, so I can tie you up again.
May swung back and forth with wide wraps of rope going from each upper thigh, up to the winch ring and then back down to solid foot stirrups. She could move her legs forwards and backwards and stay relatively stable, like an elliptical, but if she moved them from side to side, especially if she moved them out to do the splits, her torso was lowered and that put more support pressure on her chest ropes that were attached to the ceiling. None of it was too awfully uncomfortable, but if she kept her ankles about two-feet apart it was more comfortable. Suspensions were sometimes tricky like that. May was technically about six-inches off the ground in that position and suspended from five points consisting of her thigh ropes, the attached stirrups she was standing on and the ropes going from her chest harness and up to another winch. Her arms were in a fairly comfortable box-tie with her forearms parallel to each other in the small of her back. May actually had a fair amount of mobility for being so helplessly tied. There was no way she could touch the ground though. Also, Duke had neither gagged nor blindfolded her, but she was most definitely helpless.
Duke played around a little, tickling her here and there, adding and taking off different types of nipple clamps to her bare and barely sagging breasts, alternating strokes and caresses and absentmindedly playing with her until May was starting to get a little bored. Duke must have really been tired because his play seemed so disjointed and just plain, off. There seemed to be no focus or intent in what he was doing. May knew him well enough to know something was up, but she had no idea what.
When she decided to just swing there and enjoy whatever attention she got that night, she heard a strange noise that sounded close to fingernails running down one of the old-fashioned chalkboards. She tried looking around, but he was standing directly behind her with his back turned, making this horrible low-keyed scraping noise. Over and over the scraping sound grated on her nerves. The low soft rumble of something moving over stone would occasionally shriek with a high-pitched sound. Finally, after he had teased her enough Duke moved in front of her and showed her that he was sharpening a katana, a.k.a. a Japanese fighting sword. He was using one of those plastic, sharpening guards that had twin rods of ceramic set and angled so that as you put the whole thing over the blade and then ran it up the length. The ceramic rods sharpened the edge of the sword. The sound she’d heard was the ceramic rods scraping over the metal of the sword. It made her teeth grind together. Duke stood where she could see him and scraped on the edge of the sword, then spun the sword in his hand like he was slinging something accumulating on the blade, off, then scraped it again. After a few times he pulled out a piece of paper and showed her how sharp the sword was by splitting the paper he held onto by just two fingers. He’d slice pieces of the paper off and then go back to scraping the blade to get it sharper. May was going crazy.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, Duke moved behind her and started to run the cold steel of the blade over her warm flesh, first with the flat of the blade, and then with the tip, like he was doing knife play, but with a sword! May started to get into this. Finally, with the flat of the blade against her butt he stopped everything.
“Now hold very still May, this may hurt a little bit. You wouldn’t want me to slip and cut you, now would you?” and pulling the blade back like a baseball bat, Duke hit her with the sword.
Thwack!
May went sailing forward and her butt felt like it had been hit with a cane, --- hard! As she swung forwards and backwards, she saw Duke spinning his blade with one hand, overhand first, then underhand, then take up a double-hand position behind her and as she swung back towards him, he hit her again
Thwack!
And she started swinging forwards and backwards again, and her butt hurt.
Thwack!
Every other time she rocked back on her swing she got hit. After the fifth impact, he let her slowly settle back into a hanging position. Surprisingly, she felt something liquid running down her leg. When Duke moved in front of her she saw a thin line of red running down the edge of his sword and almost fainted. Blood! He had cut her with his damned sword! He walked back behind her and she could feel his fingers wiping up whatever was running down her leg. He came back around to the front of her, smearing something red between his fingers, just like someone would with blood. To May’s horror Duke began licking the blood off his fingers one at a time. He made, “Mmmm, Mmmm” sounds and finally took one finger and wiped up some of the blood off the blade. With his finger coated with blood, he rudely shoved it in her mouth, wiping it all over her tongue and lips.
May tried to spit it out but then realization hit her. This didn’t have the metallic taste of blood, this was sweet, like sugar. When Duke saw her face change, he just started busting up laughing. May was running her tongue over the sticky sweet stuff on her lips that she thought was blood. Pulling a small squeeze bottle out of his pocket he poured a little more of the ‘blood’ out on his finger and stuck it in her mouth again. This time she wasn’t offended at all because she knew it wasn’t her blood, or any blood, but some type of blood substitute.
“I’m sorry May, but I had to pull that trick on you. This is nothing but corn syrup and red food dye. Your butt may be a bit bruised, but it isn’t cut at all. In fact, I didn’t even put a run in your pantyhose. I’m a closet fan of geek tricks and when I developed this one, I practiced for a couple of months on water balloons before I ever touched a human, figuring if I didn’t bust a water balloon, I wouldn’t cut the skin. I came home in a really funky mood and just wanted to do something different tonight.”
Using a rag, Duke cleaned up the excess ‘blood’ off of her.
“Well, now that I know I’m not all cut up, the humor of this practical joke is easier to see. The build-up with the scraping and sharpening was nerve-wracking though. Then to get hit with no warm-up, well I should’ve known something was up. Okay, you got me, --- (giggling) --- that was actually pretty good. The whole disjointed play, making me think it was just an off night, and then the no warm-up, full on beating, with blood no less, --- (pause and head shaking) --- I should have known. You’ve never been that careless,” and May started laughing as the endorphins started to kick in.
Duke shrugged and started to chuckle.
“You’re a mean man Master,” and May couldn’t help but laugh.
Duke just kissed her and then moved behind her where he adjusted her height with the electric winch until it was where he wanted it. Then, after taking his pants off, he slowly and gradually slipped into her moistening pussy. Duke ran his fingertips over her recent bruises juicing her endorphins up and lighting up her nerves with excitations. Within a few seconds May was fully and naturally lubricated for him and he rocked her in the suspended swing while he rocked her world. With a large hand on each of her hips he moved her around his penetrations rather than the other way around. He would purposefully swing her legs individually, one going forward and the other moving backward. This, added to his pumping motion got May ooowing and hooting as she built to a fever pitch. Duke was relentless in his desire to move and manipulate her as he banged away in his own pursuit of pleasure. Soon May popped off a trembling orgasm, moaning and telling him with inarticulate sounds just how much fun she was having as he dumped his load into her shortly afterwards.
Letting her slow her motion down naturally, and then moving her gently back and forth for the sensations between aftershocks, Duke let her get the most out of his manipulations before pulling out of her. After lowering her to the ground, Duke released her from all the ropes. She flowed into his arms and they stood there for long minutes making out. This moved to the audience couch on the side of the room for a while and then they just settled into snuggling.
“So hot stuff, tell me about your day, please Master.”
“Today we all worked on voice lessons. I scheduled two voice coaches from New York and one from The Bay Area to help me work with the groom corps on a command presence in their speech patterns. Grooms not only need to know how to train these women for what the High Lords want them to do, they have to know how to motivate them to want to serve the High Lords. Voice is a large part of that, so we were training slang out of them today, so their performance voices were more clearly understood when they told someone to do something. You might be surprised at what all they consider slang.”
“Any new intelligence on the movements of the women?”
“Yes, the security forces for Tangram-Tessera International are finally starting to get lax and complacent.”
“Then it won’t be long before you start the kidnappings?”
“Well, my staff and I want to see if they’re trying to pull a fast one, or if they are truly slackening up on their security. It’s been over three months since we assassinated their CFO and all his guards. Gentle probes against their defenses told us that they were on high alert for anything for a while, and then they went on super-secret alert after making it look like they slackened their security two months ago. Our civilian probes were easily detected and harassed but not countered in any way. Just like we know that their spies try to infiltrate us, they know we try to infiltrate them. If we stopped all together, they would become very suspicious again. Now, and for the last month it looks like they went back to the levels of security they had before. Lee has been working tirelessly to sneak past their electronic defenses, and the intel he’s gathering is hard to refute. We should be able to slip past the bulwark of their defenses with a multi-pronged forking attack and take most if not all of the primary targets before they can rally any form of significant defense. This should happen whenever we get the grooms trained up enough to start retraining the mindsets of these victims.”
“When you say, ‘most if not all’, why aren’t you sure you can get all of them in one fell swoop?”
“Because the best laid plans only work until you put them into action. We plan for success, hope for the best, expect the worst and have contingency plans for when the shit hits the fan.”
“That sounds very pessimistic.”
“But it’s the way of the world. Sometimes things work, sometimes they don’t. Think back to the stories I told you about the CFO we shot. I aimed for his knee, wanting only to maim him for what he did to Roy, but when his guard got shot, the rest of them all jumped on him while my bullet was still in the air and traveling down range, so it ended up impacting him in the gut killing him. In that instance I planned for one thing, but the human factor caused something completely different to happen. That will be the same type of chances we take when we go to kidnap all their women. Some will come easily, like you did when I kidnapped you. Some will fight and that always leads to problems. Some will have the luck of the draw with them and other humans will interfere no matter how perfect our plans are. You can’t take into account random and chaotic actions by bystanders. Short of slaughtering everyone on the way in, you cannot take away the human factor. So, that’s why I say most if not all.”
“Will you be on any of the missions when it goes down?”
“Because I’m now a High Lord the most I can do is pull high guard with my sniper rifle from about a mile away. I can’t really get my hands dirty with the actual kidnappings like I did with you, for Roy. Most of the grooms on the ground will be journeymen like I was. Many of the full grooms will be commanding the individual units for them, like I’ll be doing and most of the apprentices will be running distraction tactics. Beginner grooms will be back here preparing everything for the influx of new slaves.
“Can I do anything to help you with this?”
“You’ll be more of a help after we get them back here. I’ll have to have examples of happy, content slaves for them to emulate. You are thriving here, and you are a slave.”
“I’m thriving because I’m happy and well cared for. Actually, this is the type of lifestyle I always wanted anyway. I wanted to be taken, for the pleasure of a man I could respect. I wanted to be appreciated for my efforts to make him happy. I wanted fancy clothes and expensive shoes. I also wanted to feel productive. Short of a lavish and extravagant diet that I could over-indulge in and get fat, I have everything I could have ever wanted in life. I have a tall, strong, intelligent, handsome, caring man that I love. I have a closet full of clothes and shoes that were made just for me. I’m learning new things all the time, and I have a sex life that other women would kill for. I’m a happy bimbo.”
“May, bimbo implies that you’re empty headed. I know you’re smart and I see you learning new things every day. With only instructions from me and a little help from a couple of beginner grooms, and Paul, you basically trained yourself after I got shot. I know you’re still learning and that’s so gratifying to see, so I don’t think the term bimbo applies.”
“Then what would you call me Duke?”
“Let me think on that for a few. Roy chose you for your beauty, talents and intelligence. You are my slave now that he’s dead and I’m proud of you, so for a label, I’m going to call you my trophy-slave-wife. Sound good to you?”
“Wife! You consider me your wife? And a trophy-wife at that? Oh, how wonderful. I’ll work extra hard now to make you proud of me. I love you, I love you, I love you my Duke.”
“Alright, calm down. It’s getting late and I still have some studying and homework to do for tomorrow’s class on Verbal Judo and how to convince others that they want to do what you want them to do. So, let’s get you stripped down to nothing and tied for sleep.”
May has been labeled.
She’s now his trophy-slave-wife
and she is happy.