Sally’s Subject I: Dungeon Visit
The Dungeon Visit
The click when the head cage closed and locked around his neck sent a thrill down Denny’s spine. There was a certain finality in the sound, a sense his helplessness was now complete. Through the wire mesh stretched over the steel frame that now enclosed his head he could see the slightest of smiles on Mistress Edith’s lips. She’s in charge now, she knows it, and there’s nothing I can do about it. With that thought in mind he could already feel the stresses of the day draining away.
Mental stresses, not physical discomfort, a reminder he was chained hand and foot inside an arch composed of concrete and reinforced cinder blocks. Chains attached to heavy manacles on his wrists held his arms high and wide above his head. A matching set of leg shackles forced him to stand with his legs spread far apart. As if that wasn’t enough the cage around his head was attached to a steel rod that descended from the top of the arch. Mistress Edith called it her “Doorway to Heaven” though anyone trussed up inside it might have a different description after a few hours.
Mistress Edith backed up, folded her arms and looked Denny over, head to toe. He had nothing to hide, since he had no clothes. She reached behind her and picked up the instrument Denny feared most of all. She slipped the loop over her wrist before taking a firm hold of the grip. Slowly, so Denny could watch, she drew the quirt through her free hand.
He’d tasted the business end of that fiendish bit of braided leather before. It was short, accurate, and most of all, it stung. Mistress Edith didn’t hesitate to use it either. The way she used it, that was the terrifying part. It was always from behind, where he couldn’t see it coming. The head cage was rigidly mounted and wouldn’t turn, so Denny’s vision was limited to what was directly in front. Or nothing at all, if she slid shut the cover over his eyes.
Last week he’d earned five strokes when he inadvertently forgot to show proper respect by neglecting to address her as “Mistress”. The welts were still tender. He would not make that mistake this visit. She was fair but strict in enforcing her rules, which included his undivided attention when she was present. In part that was what he found so appealing in a dominatrix, understanding yet with a firm insistence on acknowledging she was the one in control.
“So, Denny, have you been good this week?” She tapped the quirt against her high-heeled leather boot. “Should I be concerned about your conduct? You know how peeved I can be if I learn you have disappointed me.” She ran the tip of the quirt up and down his bare leg.
“Mistress Edith, I have tried to be good, the way you taught me.” As long as he could see her Denny felt reasonably safe. He would never outright lie to her, but he was an expert at half-truths.
Edith sighed. “Denny, Denny, Denny,” she shook her head as she spoke. “What do you mean, tried? We’ve had this discussion before. Try is not good enough. Either you follow the rules or you don’t. Now, which is it?”
Before Denny could answer, one of Edith’s assistants approached. She turned to face him. “Why are you interrupting me?” He didn’t speak but did hold out a slip of paper. Edith took it and read it over. “I don’t believe this. An emergency? Ask Sally if she can step in and entertain our guest,” she poked Denny in the chest with the quirt, “while I handle whatever this might be.”
“Gag him,” Edith ordered, almost as an afterthought.
Denny didn’t much care for being gagged but he wasn’t allowed to protest. The assistant worked quickly while Edith watched. First the lower section of the cage, in front of his mouth, swung open. A large, uncomfortable foam-covered rubber mouthpiece was inserted into a slot. The assistant began closing the cage, forcing the gag into his mouth. The cage held it in place despite his frenzied efforts to push it out with his tongue.
The assistant disappeared. “Something’s come up that I must deal with right now. I didn’t forget that question. When I come back, I will expect you to have an answer ready for me. In the meantime, I have a special treat for you, though you may not deserve it. My friend Sally would like to have a conversation with you. You have no idea what an honor this is, or how fortunate you are.”
She turned to walk away. “Oh yes, I want you to stay there until I’m finished with you. Don’t leave.” With that she vanished from sight when she left his restricted view.
Denny gripped the chains running from his wrist manacles to the overhead beam. I suppose I will hang around, he smiled at the irony. He wasn’t going anywhere until someone released him.
Sally Steps In
Denny had little choice but to stare at the wall opposite. He did catch bits of orders being issued by the Mistress, behind his back.
“I don’t care if he wants the Doorway, it’s occupied.” The reply from her assistant was too low for Denny to understand. She insisted on them being unobtrusive, so they always spoke in a near whisper.
“Okay, we’ll go with the next best thing. Strap him into the Rack.” That poor guy, Denny felt sympathy for whoever Mistress Edith’s victim was. Edith’s dungeon was large and well-equipped to service darker fantasies. On his introductory tour he’d seen what she called the Penance Room and the imposing machines within. Revisiting the worst of the Auto da Fé, the acts of penance imposed on sinners by the Spanish Inquisition, was not high on Denny’s fantasy wish list. Much as he enjoyed the physical sensations of his present position, standing in a vertical spread-eagle, the idea of being slowly pulled apart by something out of a psychopathic chiropractor’s warped imagination held no attraction.
The sound of a heavy wooden door closing cut off all further conversation. At the same time an assistant appeared, carrying a small table and a folding chair. He set up the chair and table directly in front of Denny. What’s going on, he wondered? This wasn’t part of the usual visit.
Right behind the assistant a small, petite woman came into view. Denny frowned. Unlike Mistress Edith and her traditional leather costume this newcomer wore a simple dress, in a pastel pink color. It was attractive but very conservative, hardly what a dominatrix would choose to project authority. It reminded him of something out of movies about rural life in 1930s America.
She sat down opposite Denny. “Hello, my name is Sally. My friend Edith asked Sally to keep you company while she deals with an urgent matter. You are,” she looked down at the tablet in her hand, “Denholm? What an unusual name. Are you British?”
The assistant whispered something in her ear. “Sally is so sorry. She had no idea you were unable to answer.” She waved off the assistant, who left. Checking the tablet again she continued. “It says here you prefer ‘Denny’ for short. Sally likes a bit of formality but she will respect your wishes. Sally’s friend Edith requested Sally’s help, which is why Sally is here. Sally hopes you will be patient and allow for her inexperience in situations like this.”
Denny didn’t know what to make of this woman. Why did she refer to herself in the third person, and what was it with the odd way she stressed certain words? She certainly wasn’t a dominatrix. She was polite and soft-spoken where he expected shouted orders and being treated as some lower form of life. The appearance was all wrong, the odd speech pattern threw him off, and worst of all, apologizing for her clumsiness in advance, all were out of character. If not for the gag he would have gone with his safeword and stopped the session.
“It must be uncomfortable, being forced to stand that way.” Sally placed the tablet on the table, reaching down to straighten the hem of her skirt before carefully placing her hands on her bare knees. “Sally would never let herself be so…exposed. You are a remarkable man, Denny. Sally admires a man with the strength of character to reveal his vulnerable side.”
Denny suddenly became aware of just how exposed he was. With the Mistress it was all about humiliation. On the other hand, Sally was so normal in the way she carried herself that he felt as if he were standing in a park, in full view of anyone passing by.
He saw the way she scrutinized him, her eyes sweeping from head to toe. She tilted her head to one side, as if puzzled. “Do you like women, Denny? During the day, do you turn your head to watch a pretty girl go by?” She reached down to adjust an ankle strap on one shoe.
“Denny, do you think Sally is attractive? Would you like to know more about her, to be with her? Are you thinking about what it would be like, to discover what is under Sally’s dress? Don’t you want to run your hands over Sally’s body, to explore what you see from afar?”
He wasn’t immune to pure lust, especially when an attractive woman encouraged him. Out of his control he began to rise to the occasion, in full view of Sally.
“Oh my! Is that for Sally?” She stood up, running her hands down her hips in an entirely unnecessary motion to straighten her dress. It did nothing to cool down Denny.
To his horror that was the moment Mistress Edith reappeared. She pushed Sally to one side so she could stand directly in front of him. With her high heels she almost came to eye level. “You have embarrassed me, Denny. I thought we’d moved beyond incidents like this. I trusted you, yet I turn my back for a minute and what do I find?”
Her voice was icy calm, which scared Denny more than uncontrolled anger. He had a very bad feeling about what was sure to come next.
She gestured to someone out of sight. “We’re going to have to start all over again, Denny. Discipline is important; you most of all should understand that. If you can’t control yourself then you need to be taught a lesson.”
When the assistant reappeared with the apparatus dangling in his hands, Denny lost his composure. He began struggling in the chains, desperate to escape from the grip of that most terrifying of all Mistress Edith’s tools. He yelled his safeword into the gag, but all that came out was garbled noise.
“Hook him up,” Edith snapped an order to her assistant. “Sally? Could I have a word with you?” The two women disappeared.
The assistant came over to Denny. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I suggest you accept the inevitable and cooperate. You’re in no position to stop me.”
He was right. Denny could twist around, try to slow him down, but in the end that nightmare in his hand would be fastened on his body despite his best efforts. The assistant knew what he was doing; it didn’t take long before he finished with Denny.
After a final check the man carefully placed the controller on the table, next to Sally’s tablet. Before he left, he stopped and shrugged his shoulders, as if to apologize for what he’d done to Denny. He was only following Mistress Edith’s orders; Denny bore him no ill will.
He stared at the small box on the table. There was a single button, with a plastic cover over it. In frustration he grabbed the chains above his hands. If not for the gag he’d be long gone by now. Instead, here he stood, robbed of his freedom to move, of his ability to communicate, and now, thanks to that box on the table, of his last shred of dignity.
First Impressions
In Edith’s private office Sally took a seat. “Cup of coffee?” Edith held up a coffee mug.
“No, thanks. You were right to contact me, Edith. First impression, this Subject is very promising. It’s been so long since I had time to have some fun on my own, without worrying about keeping the customer happy. If I do decide to keep him, will that be a problem for you?”
Edith shook her head. “Short term, no. I have a secure room where I can store him for a day or two. I’m sure you’ll need more time, so it would be best to move him to another location.”
Sally waved a hand in the air. “I have just the place. You know Gary, Mr. G? He has this sprawling residence out in the desert, well equipped, plenty of room, and a private plane. It’s very isolated, perfect for those long, extended conversations. I have a standing arrangement with him.”
Neither woman referred to Denny by name. To them he was only the Subject, a thing, an object to be used and discarded. Edith had nothing but disdain for men in general. The ones who sought out her services were especially deserving of her contempt.
But Sally, that was a different story. Even Edith felt sorry for the ones Psycho Sally decided were worth her interest, be it men or women. She had worked with Sally numerous times, and seen the results. The “Psycho” nickname was, if anything, an understatement of her true personality.
“We’ll have to unhook him before too much longer. You certainly don’t want damaged goods. Let me know if he walks or if he’ll be staying with us for a while longer.”
The Belt of Agony
The waiting was getting on Denny’s nerves. He didn’t visit Mistress Edith’s dungeon to be bored. How long have I been here, anyway? The session must be getting close to the end. So far it had been one giant disappointment. This Sally was no substitute for Mistress Edith. Why was he being handed off to some raw beginner with no experience?
He heard someone walking around behind him. Sally reappeared in his line of sight. She bent over to get a better look at the belt around his waist and between his legs. She reached out but didn’t touch him.
“Sally has read about these chastity belts. Obviously, this is the male version. It looks like a snug fit. Sally assumes you can’t slip out of it? What’s it made of, some kind of metal? There is a place for a key. Sally thinks without one you can’t easily remove it?”
Chastity belt, now there’s an ironical twist. Denny was far more concerned about the belt’s other capability. True, he couldn’t have sex with it on, though that was the least of his worries. The real secret to the belt, the Agony Belt as he liked to think of it, rested in that simple controller resting on the table. One press of that button sent a nasty shock into the most sensitive part of a man’s anatomy. It didn’t take many servings of the belt’s delights to convince Denny to be the very model of perfect obedience and respect for authority.
Sally took her seat, once more looking up at Denny. She reached over and picked up the controller. Denny tensed when she ran a finger around the edge. Was she aware of what it could do to him? After all, she was a beginner, and what he wore definitely required expert level experience.
“Edith says one push this button and you will receive a mild correction. Sally isn’t sure exactly what that means.” She flipped off the safety cover. “Should Sally try it out, to see what happens?” She rested a fingertip on the button.
In a panic Denny tried to yell out a warning, begging her not to activate the belt. The gag stifled his pleas for mercy. Resigned to the worst, he closed his eyes in preparation for what was about to come.
Except it didn’t. When he opened his eyes, the controller was back on the table. “Sally admires those who can live by a rigid set of rules, like you, Denny. Sally isn’t familiar with your arrangement with Mistress Edith, but between the two of us you have, mostly, behaved as a gentleman. That one incident you will have to resolve with your Mistress. Sally will put it behind us. There will be no correction administered by Sally over what happened.”
Sally picked up the controller again. That got Denny’s attention fast. “Sally is going to ask an assistant to remove your gag. Sally wishes to have a conversation, rather than sitting here lecturing you. However, Sally must insist on certain rules of conduct.
“First of all, you will not raise your voice, either in anger or to make a point. Next, Sally will ask the questions; you will provide the answers. Sally does not tolerate lies or half-truths. You will answer as best you can, remain focused and not try to deflect the question. If you do not follow these rules Sally will use this,” she held up the controller, “to remind you about poor attitude and its consequences.”
A choice which is no choice at all, Denny thought. Anything is better than being subjected to a “correction” from the belt.
Sally signaled for an assistant. He opened the lower part of the head cage and removed the gag, then closed the cage and left. The relief of not having that thing stuck in his mouth was so intense, Denny actually felt some gratitude towards Sally.
“Now we can have a proper talk, just the two of us. Remember the rules Denny, or Sally will have to resort to unpleasant measures. Sally doesn’t like to be mean, but she has to keep to Edith’s rules as well. Can you help Sally by cooperating?”
This has gone on long enough. “Raspberry, raspberry,” Denny repeated.
Sally stared at him with a puzzled look. “Sally is sure you are trying to tell her something important. You will have to explain to Sally what it is, without the references to berries.”
“That’s my safeword, ‘raspberry’. I want to end this session, right now! Release me from these chains. Either I talk to Mistress Edith or I’m leaving.”
Sally picked up her tablet and studied the screen. Shaking her head she told him, “Sally is sorry, Denny, but that’s not this week’s safeword. You know how it works. Only the proper word can end the session. You seem to be very agitated. Sally certainly cannot release you until you calm down. And all these demands! You of all people should know this is not acceptable while a session is in progress. Sally regrets she must disregard everything unless you use the correct safeword.”
Denny was getting angrier by the second. “That was the safeword we agreed on last session. Mistress Edith didn’t give me a new one for this week! No more roleplaying, I want…”
Sally’s finger on the controller cut off the rest of what he was going to say. The pain from the electric shock racked his body, causing him to thrash around in the chains. When it ended, he was left limp, suspended by his manacled wrists overhead.
After he recovered Sally was still in her chair, with the controller in one hand. She held it for Denny to see. “Sally regrets this was necessary. There will be no more talk about non-existent safewords or pretending about role play. You can see for yourself, Denny, this is the real world. Sally is serious about how you will conduct yourself. Let’s not have any more slips, okay?”
Her speech pattern was beginning to really irritate Denny. He was about to say as much when he caught himself. Answer questions, don’t ask them; that was one of her stipulations. She had made it abundantly clear it would not be to his advantage to antagonize her, not as long as she could push that button. “Yes, Mistress Sally.”
She laughed while shaking her head. “Oh no, Denny, Sally is definitely not a Mistress. No titles, please.” She leaned in toward him. “Sally will tell you a secret, Denny. She is attracted to large, powerful, confident men who aren’t afraid to express themselves in, umm, forceful ways. Look at Sally. She is so small and weak, who would ever believe a dominant personality is in her?”
Denny had to concede her point. His own impression of her was a direct opposite of someone like Mistress Edith.
“That was a rhetorical question, by the way. Don’t answer.” She stood up and moved closer to Denny. “Now that we’ve moved beyond the difficulties, can we have a quiet talk? Sally is fascinated by you, Denny.” Once more she reached out as if to touch him, stopped, and drew back her hand. “Sally wants to learn all about you. Sally has so many questions. Will you help Sally to better understand who you are?”
The Quiet Talk
From Denny’s point of view, he had few options other than to cooperate with Sally. Sooner or later Mistress Edith would return to close the session. Until then, as long as they were having a discussion, even if on her terms, Sally would be distracted from pushing that button.
“I’ll do what I can,” Denny replied. “How should I address you? Miss Sally? Or…”
She held up her hands as if to stop him. “Oh no, Denny, I’m just plain Sally. Two people, one on one, on an equal footing, sharing personal details in an uninhibited fashion, that is so precious to Sally. Don’t you think so, Denny? You will share with Sally, won’t you?”
“I’ll do what I can. I’m not sure I have all that much to say…”
She cut him off. “That’s such good news, Denny! Sally was sure we would get along. A man like you, so important, so powerful; you must have all kinds of stories.” She was standing very close now.
Slowly she reached up, once more as if she was about to touch his arm before suddenly jerking back. “Do you work out, Denny? You seem to be fit, not like many of the men who come here. Do you take care of yourself, eat healthy, get a lot of exercise? So muscular, Sally thinks maybe you lift weights.”
“I do try to get to the gym at least twice a week,” he answered.
“You are so modest! Sally can see for herself you are very conscientious.” She went back to her chair. “What Sally really wants to know, Denny, is why you need to visit Mistress Edith’s dungeon on a regular basis. With all you have going for you, a successful business, and you certainly are handsome…” she paused, “what is it that makes you risk all that by coming here?”
Denny had wrestled with that particular question for months. More than once, he’d decided never to return, yet within a couple of weeks the siren call of Mistress Edith’s dungeon lured him back.
“It’s the stress,” Denny began. “Sometimes it gets to me, all that responsibility. In here I don’t have to think about it. The minute I’m strung up in these chains I can feel the tension drain away. The way I see it, if there’s nothing I can do, then there’s nothing I have to do. Mistress Edith takes care of all that.”
Sally nodded in agreement. “That’s a very good answer, Denny. I’ve read the same explanation many times on those blog websites, almost word for word.”
Denny suddenly screamed when the pulsing electric shocks wracked his body. It seemed to go on forever. When Sally finally lifted her hand from the controller he hung limply, occasionally twitching from reaction.
“Sally has studied you, Denny. She is aware of your talent for misleading half-truths. You misjudged Sally; she can see through your attempts to hide the truth. Sally still wants to help you, even if you are unwilling to be honest.
“Sally will not give up on you, Denny. Once you can admit your failings Sally will work with you to become a better person. It will take time, but Sally will be with you all the way. You have been through a difficult experience; Sally will arrange for you to rest before we continue.”
“I’m…I’m sorry, Sally.” Denny hung his head, trying his best to be contrite. “Sometimes I can’t help myself. You were right to remind me.”
Disposition of Subject
Edith leaned back in her office chair. “I watched that bit where you practically threw yourself at him. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing. And he ate it up! Here you’d just tortured him with electric shocks to the genitals, and now he’s convinced it was his fault he made you do it. Unbelievable!”
Sally shrugged. “You’re too confrontational, Edith. Not that I’m criticizing; there is a time and place for your special skills. You are my Strawman; I can win the Subject’s trust by shielding him from your excessive cruelty. But when a woman strokes a man’s ego his critical reasoning seems to vanish. The Subject will buy into whatever I tell him, because it’s what he wants to hear.”
“So? Have you reached a decision on the Subject? I need to take him down in the next few minutes. He’s approaching the limits of endurance.”
Psycho Sally looked up at the ceiling, considering what to do. It had been some time since she’d last indulged herself; she deserved a break from business. “Yes, I’m going to keep him. If you could handle the details tonight, I’ll be ready by tomorrow afternoon to move him. You have a good eye for suitable candidates, Edith. I owe you one.”
Edith waved her hand. “Nonsense, I’m the one who’s indebted to you. Our last two projects were so lucrative I was able to open this business. About the details, there’s no paper trail to here; he pays cash, but we will need to create some explanation for the Subject’s disappearance just in case.”
“I’ll handle that. I know just the person to arrange it. Hmmm, I think our Subject has this bondage fetish, one where his ability did not match his ambition. If his car were to be found in the desert, say somewhere around Death Valley, along with his wallet and clothes, plus ample evidence of his penchant for handcuffs and chains… Yes, a midnight stroll burdened down with a large, heavy assortment of non-removable steel jewelry; disoriented, wandering off into the desert; perhaps stumbling across one of those old open mine shafts, vanishing without a trace; definitely a misadventure finding from a judge.” Sally smiled at the description.
“Someone will come by to pick up his clothes and personal effects. A van will call for him after dark. Nothing will be traceable back to you. Naturally, I’ll cover any expenses.”
As callous as Edith was, especially after working with Sally for so many years, the unguarded ramblings of an extreme mental case still unsettled her. The Subject, and how dehumanizing that description was, would simply cease to exist. When Psycho Sally finished with him, the empty husk, whatever remained of his shattered life, would live out his days in ignorance of the man he once was.