Hindsight
Cathy leaned back in her seat, resigned to her fate. In hindsight it had been childish and stupid; she should know better. But she’d done it anyway, and now she must suffer the consequences. If she had only stopped to think, listened, made the effort to understand, none of this would have been necessary. As she sat there, under the guard's watchful eye, she thought back to how it began. Was it really only a day ago?
It started on a Friday afternoon. Cecilia had called about the party, all their friends would be there, and Cathy looked forward to it. She had gone to her Master, told him about the party, how excited she was about it, and then waited expectantly. When he had replied with a simple, "No, your Master requires your presence elsewhere" with no other explanation, she was in shock. She had gone back to the living room to sit and think, growing angrier and angrier by the minute. If Master thinks so little of me, she thought, perhaps a weekend without me is what he needs.
That was the fateful decision. She rushed into the bedroom, threw some clothes in a bag, and headed for her car. A quickly scrawled note, "Gone for the weekend," was the only indication of her plans. She headed for the freeway, determined to go somewhere, anywhere, but far from her Master.
While driving aimlessly on the freeway she saw the sign, "Los Angeles 264 Miles.” Perfect, a weekend on the beach, and her Master would never find her. Her destination set, and her fate sealed, Cathy headed for the City of the Angels. Six hours later she was in Newport, deciding where to stay. A familiar hotel, a chance cancellation, her trusty credit card, and she had a place for the weekend. She went up to her room, unpacked her bag, laid back on the bed to rest after the long drive, and promptly fell asleep.
Waking at 2 a.m., she felt restless, too awake to go back to sleep, and besides, she had the entire weekend to herself. She did feel a bit apprehensive, worried about how her Master would react. He would have long since found her note. She shrugged, smiled, and decided to take a moonlight drive through the Beach Cities.
Cathy showered and put on a casual dress. She grabbed her purse and headed for the underground garage. Although the hour was late, she remembered the attendant at the entrance and thought it would be safe. Going down the elevator, she again thought about her Master, and the confrontation sure to happen when she got back. She knew he was a powerful, influential man with ties to many organizations; in fact it was part of his attraction. She wasn't too sure just how he would react to her unplanned excursion. After all, she had pledged herself to him, his obedient and unquestioning submissive woman, with no limits on what he might demand from her. When she got back he would be more appreciative of her wishes, rather than dismissing them out of hand. Cathy smiled, thinking of all the clichés about absence makes the heart grow fonder and you never miss it till you no longer have it.
Exiting the elevator, she entered the garage and headed for her car. Always careful, she checked for strangers loitering nearby or suspicious cars. The garage was nearly full since it was a weekend, but no one was there at the moment. She could see the outline of the attendant at the entrance. Satisfied, she headed for her car.
At the car door, she started to open her purse to get the keys when a large, strong arm circled around her from behind, pinning her arms to her side. She started to scream, to yell for help, but the other arm came up, forcing a gag into her mouth. She started to struggle, readying a kick, when the man pulled her back, off balance. Just then a van pulled up, the door opened, and a second large, heavyset man jumped out, grabbing her legs. They quickly bundled her into the van, slammed the door shut, and began driving away. She struggled, trying to twist out of their grip, but they were too strong. It had been so fast she had no time to react or call out to the attendant, and the side of the van blocked his view of what had happened. She felt the van go up the garage ramp and out into the street.
Inside the two men held her face down on the carpeted floor of the van. Quickly her arms were pulled behind her back, and she both heard and felt the familiar click of handcuffs on her wrists, followed by a larger version of the same on her ankles. One man bent over her to whisper in her ear, "your Master requires your presence."
A cold chill ran through Cathy on hearing those words. Instinctively she stopped struggling, allowing the men to continue without any resistance on her part. She now knew what was happening. The hushed rumors when she had visited with the other women at special parties came back to her. Bounty hunters…slave catchers. Her Master had reacted swiftly indeed.
How had they found her so quickly? Then she realized her mistake. The credit card pointed right to her hotel. Her Master had the means to find her, to have her brought back to him, and he had used them. She had underestimated his reaction to her disobedience. The men who had kidnapped her must have been waiting nearby for hours, on the off chance she would come out alone.
While one man held her down, the other quickly and efficiently searched her, even removing her shoes and jewelry. She pulled slightly on the handcuffs, testing them. From prior experience she knew she would not be slipping out of them. They were on her wrists snugly but not too tight, with just enough space to allow for circulation. She was not going to be able to escape their hold. Cathy and her Master had played with handcuffs many times. She had never been able to free herself.
After the search was finished, the men pulled a waist chain attached to the handcuffs around her body, locking the ends together in front of her. Her wrists were now held close against the small of her back. With the leg chains, really nothing more than oversize handcuffs, fastened securely on her ankles she could barely move. Bound hand and foot she was easily controlled by her captors. Satisfied she could offer no resistance, one of the kidnappers helped her to a kneeling position.
One of the guards removed the gag. “Keep quiet and we’ll leave it off. Start making noise and we shut you up.” She got the message.
Forced to turn to the back of the van, she saw a seat facing the rear door. One of the men picked her up and placed her in it. Quickly he fastened the seat belt and shoulder straps, immobilizing her, and finishing by attaching the linking chain of her leg irons to a ring on the van floor. Cathy pulled against her restraints but in a few seconds it was obvious her abductors had come well prepared. There was no hope that she could reach the buckles of the straps to free herself. These men were professionals; they wouldn’t make mistakes like allowing her to escape so easily.
While she sat in the back facing the rear of the van both of the men watched her every move. Cathy began to realize just how serious a mistake she had made. She had disobeyed, even run away. Now she had learned her Master would not tolerate such behavior. Sitting there, bound and helpless, heading to an unknown destination, to face certain punishment from the man who owned her, she felt panic slowly rising within her.
Could she bribe the guards? She turned to the one beside her, began explaining how it wasn't her fault, a misunderstanding, couldn't they free her and let her return to her Master? "Quiet, or you get a gag for the rest of the trip," was all the closer man said. The other man, behind her, never said a word.
At that point she came to accept that matters were now beyond her control. She settled back in the seat, made herself as comfortable as possible within the restraints, and awaited her fate. Wherever they were taking her, it was outside the city. Already she could hear the traffic noise drop off. The back of the van had no windows, so she had no idea where they were going. She had lost track of direction while they drove through the city streets. She was sure they were now on a freeway since the van was at speed and not stopping for lights, but she had no idea which road or in what direction. The front driver’s section was partitioned off so she couldn’t see out the windshield, and there were no windows in the back. Very thorough on their part; no one could see her and no one would hear her over the traffic noise if she tried to scream for help.
Arrival
They drove for hours with not a word spoken by anyone. She was sure there were at least three men in the van, the driver plus the two watching her. None of them said a word to each other; communications were solely by looks and gestures. By all appearances they were a well-practiced team. They had certainly done everything right when they abducted her. After what seemed to be several hours the van slowed before pulling off the freeway up an off ramp. She heard the man sitting directly behind her get out. She started to look over her shoulder, but the man to her side told her to keep facing toward the rear door. There were faint sounds, as if a gate were being opened, then the van pulled forward a short distance. Again there was the sound of a gate closing, followed by the slam of the van door when the second man returned. The van began moving again, still on a paved road but slower now.
Cathy had thought the trip was nearly over, but they kept going, perhaps another hour or more. All this time she had not heard any passing traffic. Wherever they were heading it was isolated. She was sure the stop had been to pass through a gate, making it a safe assumption they were on some kind of private road. While the van door was open the outside air felt warm, so they were probably not in the mountains. She wasn’t sure of the time but it was possible they had driven all the way to the desert. That would explain the temperature, the straight roads, and the lack of traffic.
Again they came to a stop. The man behind her got out and closed the door. Cathy tried once more to turn and see where she was, but the darkness hid everything. The guard next to her said nothing this time as she tried to look. She could hear voices talking outside the van, even heard her name once, but could not understand what was said. All this time she had been trying to move around but the restraints held her close, so the remaining guard did nothing although his eyes never left her. She had thought about shouting for help, but since her guard seemed unconcerned she would cry out she concluded it would be pointless.
The conversation outside stopped just as she heard the latch on the rear door of the van. It opened, and standing there in the light from the back van door was her Master. She started to speak, but he cut her off with one sentence, "I require your presence, for an accounting.” The words struck Cathy like a blow. She had disobeyed her Master, run away, now she had been brought to him to explain her actions. In her heart she knew she belonged to him, and she must now answer to him for what she had done.
"Release her," came his short, clipped command. The guard next to her released the seat belt and shoulder straps holding her in the chair. The man stopped, looked over to her Master, waited for a nod, and only then took out a small key and unlocked the cuffs around her ankles. Leaning over her, he opened the lock holding the waist chains close to her body. Finally, the guard pushed her forward, then reached behind her and unlocked the steel handcuffs encircling her wrists.
She was free of her bonds, but as she gazed up to her Master, she saw the look in his eyes, felt his power over her. She sat very still, hands folded in her lap, head down, waiting for his command. "Out of the van, stand in front of me," he ordered, pointing to a spot near him. She immediately moved to obey, hoping she could somehow still please him, to placate his visible anger at her disobedience.
She climbed out of the van and stood up, stumbling a bit as her sore body protested at the sudden activity after being confined for the trip. Then she recovered her balance and stood at the spot where her Master had ordered her. She turned to face him, mindful of her posture, keeping her back straight, her hands at her side, legs slightly apart, and her head down. She dared not speak, for she had not been granted permission to do so. He had taught her to stand that way.
Her Master gestured to the guard who had sat beside her all during the trip to this lonely, isolated location. He handed an envelope to the bounty hunter. "Good work, fast and efficient. As always your organization provides exemplary service."
"Thank you sir, your generous retainer guarantees we are available to you at any time," and then the men got in the van and drove off. Cathy was surprised at the word retainer. It seemed her Master had anticipated her actions even before she had decided to run off. Somehow he had known there would come a time she would disobey and leave him without permission, and had planned for the moment.
When the van left she saw for the first time she was standing in the driveway in front of a small building, nestled against the side of a mountain, seemingly built right into the hillside. Other than the building and the road, all she could see was barren desert and a ring of high mountains. The predawn light revealed little of the building: a single door in the front, what appeared to be a garage door on one side, and nothing else, not even a window. Her Master turned back to her. Cathy looked at his eyes for a moment before quickly lowering her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.
"Remove your clothes, now!” As quickly as she could, off came her dress and underwear, in a neat pile beside her. Finished, she stood before him as before, arms at her side, legs slightly apart, and her head still down, open and vulnerable to her Master. She was grateful he had waited till the van left with the men inside. Still, she felt uncomfortable being outside in the nude.
She stood there several minutes, illuminated in the dawn, waiting to be told what would be required of her. Her Master made no move. He looked at her, saying nothing, slowly walking around her. She stood very straight, knowing she was being judged. He stopped, close in front of her, and then reached behind his back to produce a pair of plain handcuffs. He stood there, looking at her, cuffs in one hand, as if waiting for something.
At first she was confused. What did he want of her? Then she knew precisely what he was waiting for. She held out her hands, wrists slightly apart, waiting to be bound, submitting herself to her Master's authority. He paused a moment, looking closely at her, then locked her wrists together. He held the connecting chain in his hand, controlling her. He turned, and began leading her toward the building door.
She had no choice but to follow as he pulled her behind him. He stopped at the door, a buzzer sounded and then he pushed open the door before pulling her in behind him. Inside was a counter, with a uniformed man sitting behind it, and a heavy steel door set into the wall behind him. "Listen carefully, Cathy," her Master ordered.
"Your behavior has not been pleasing to your Master. Not only did you disobey, but also you left without permission; you ran away from me. There is no excuse for this. Perhaps I have been lax in my discipline, in overseeing your training. In the past I’ve been lenient, understanding of your needs, but no more. Now you will learn what your Master demands from you."
"This is a special training school, for those women who have not responded properly to an indulgent Master. Rules here are strict, no exceptions allowed, no excuses accepted. You will be told what to do, and you will stay here until you have learned how to behave in an acceptable manner. I’m not giving you a choice, so pay attention to what I’m telling you. As your Master I decide what is best for you. At this moment I believe the best place for you is this school, regardless of where you want to go or what you want to do. You may not like it; in fact I can guarantee you will not enjoy this experience. You will stay here anyway.
"And you will remain here for as long as necessary. This is a secure facility. It is built underground, and you are at its only entrance. It is over a hundred miles from the nearest highway, across empty desert. No one has ever left here until her Master has approved her release.”
A shiver ran through Cathy's body on hearing those words delivered in the harsh tones underlying her Master's irritation at what she had done. Not pleasing to your Master, words she had hoped never to hear. She had failed in what she most desired to give to him. Remain here was an ominous phrase too. The full impact of what she had done suddenly hit her. She had broken her pledge of submission, to her one true Master, without asking for her release. She had asked for no limits, given herself freely and totally to him, and now she knew she must face any punishment he chose for her, for she could not live without him.
"Turn and face the wall. Hands behind your head, arms wide. Spread your legs," he ordered, pushing her ankles apart with his foot. Awkwardly she lifted her hands, still bound by the handcuffs, over her head. "Good, remain in that position, do not move," he commanded as he went to the counter where the attendant handed him a heavy box.
Her Master reached in and took out an oval metal ring, slightly larger than her neck, about an inch wide, hinged on one side, a lock on the other. She recognized it immediately. It was her collar, the one she wore for special occasions, as a token of her Master's ownership. He opened it, slid it around her neck and closed it, the "click" of the lock loud in the small anteroom. "This time, it doesn't come off at the end of the day. This time, it doesn't come off, period.” She felt the weight of the steel press against her throat. She had worn it many times before, but only for short periods of a few hours, once overnight, but never more than a day. It wasn’t uncomfortable but she wasn’t used to the weight and the closeness against her throat.
Then he turned back to the box and pulled out a larger object. At first she wasn't able to see it, but as he turned, she saw it from the corner of her eye, and a sense of dread went through her. Too well she knew the grip of the wide steel band around her waist, the heavy, close-fitting metal shield between her legs, the bar up to the waistband in the back. It was a chastity belt, her custom-fitted chastity belt. How well she remembered the weekend he had left it on her, her frustration as he had teased and excited her, with her pulling at it, trying to slip it off, to somehow get a finger under the shield. And she remembered her failure, her inability to touch herself, the belt blocking her every attempt. Like the collar she had not worn the belt very often or for very long at a time, only when her Master wanted to tease and play with her.
"Do not move," he ordered once again, and she was held motionless by his words. Standing behind her he unlocked and pulled open the waistband, placing it around her waist, above her hips. Stepping to her side he reached down between her legs and pulled up the shield, locking it in front to the waistband. Her Master stepped back, standing still with a slight smile parting his lips. "This time, it will not come off so quickly. Every minute of the day you will feel your Master's hold on you, in a most intimate way. Perhaps it will give you some incentive to learn.
"I will review your progress at certain intervals. If I am satisfied you are doing your best, meeting my expectations, perhaps I will open the front for brief periods. But if I find otherwise, then it stays on, and it stays locked shut. You will be required to wear the belt, and your collar, for as long as you stay here. It will be all you are allowed to wear. Now it’s time."
Taking her by one arm, her wrists still imprisoned by the handcuffs, he led her toward the rear door. The attendant stood and unlocked the door, pulling it open. Inside was an elevator with another guard waiting. Her Master handed Cathy to the waiting guard before stepping back. "Master?" she dared to ask, unsure of what was about to happen.
"No, I won't be with you. Learn, do your best, I will visit you as time permits and your progress warrants. Do as you are told, don’t cause trouble, and don’t bother asking to be released from here. Remember, the only way you will leave is if and when I allow it.” Those were her Master's parting words.
The guard took her arm, pulled her into the elevator and shut the door, cutting her off from the outside world. The elevator car began moving down, plunging her into a terrifying yet unknown fate. She did trust her Master, but she also knew he could be unpredictable when she defied him. She had never seen him so upset at her, but as always he was outwardly calm. He would not injure or maim her but she had little doubt whatever awaited her when the elevator stopped would not be pleasant.
A New Reality
The elevator car continued its journey downward, taking her to a new and very different world. She stood quietly, looking down at her hands, the handcuffs around her wrists holding them close together. She felt the guard's strong grip on her upper arm. She was conscious of how exposed and helpless she was, her nude body covered only by the chastity belt between her legs. Her Master's collar circled her neck, proclaiming her nature to all. She had no secrets from these men. Knowing she was submissive, they would expect her obedience; even take it as a matter of fact. There was a clear hierarchy of authority here, and she was at the lowest level.
After what seemed an eternity, the elevator car came to a stop. The inner door opened, revealing a heavy barred gate. Her escort unlocked the gate with a key attached to his belt. He slid it open to the side. Pressure from the guard’s grip on her arm forced her out of the elevator into the corridor. He halted her with a jerk on her arm, just outside the gate. She stopped and looked up to him, waiting for instructions. He shut the gate to the elevator and made sure it was locked before he led her forward, walking down the hallway toward another door at the end. They stopped in front of a heavy, solid metal door. He opened it with a key from his belt before leading her into the room, never letting go of his iron grip on her arm.
In the room was a small table, a steel-barred door to another hallway, and a large sign next to it:
SECURED AREA
Beyond this point, females are required to:
1) OBEY ALL ORDERS FROM WARDENS
2) REMOVE ALL CLOTHING AND JEWELRY
3) WEAR IDENTIFYING COLLAR
4) BE ESCORTED BY A WARDEN OUTSIDE A ROOM
5) WEAR A CONTROL BELT
6) WEAR RESTRAINTS WHILE BEING ESCORTED BETWEEN ROOMS
No exceptions are allowed for any reason
Cathy looked at the sign, understanding those posted rules applied to her. Silent till now, her guard, a "Warden" they were called, spoke to her. "Read these rules. Never forget them. We will know about any infraction, no matter how minor."
"Yes, sir," she replied, instinctively knowing she must behave in a respectful manner to the Wardens, hoping it was the proper form of address. The Warden did not reply; instead he towed her along with him to the far door, stopping in front of the close-set steel bars. In a moment yet another Warden appeared, on the other side of the door. Her guard unlocked the gate before handing her through, transferring her to the new Warden while he stepped back and closed the door behind her.
To this point she had passed through multiple locked barriers. Now she understood all too well what her master had meant when he said it was a secure facility. Her new Warden took hold of her handcuffs. "Come with me," he commanded, and led her down yet another corridor, passing several empty cells, until they reached one with a single inhabitant.
Inside was another woman, collared and belted as Cathy was, kneeling in the rear of the small cell, back straight, legs apart, and eyes down, hands on her thighs. Cathy's Warden pushed her against the bars at the front of the cell, "Don’t move," he ordered. He unlocked the cell door using a large key on a ring connected to his belt, pulled open the heavy steel door, and then shoved her inside. Noticing the woman on the floor had not moved, Cathy stood very still, not sure what was expected of her next. The Warden closed the cell door. Cathy heard the sound of the lock as it latched shut.
"Turn around,” he ordered, and Cathy quickly turned to face him. “This woman will explain how you are to behave while a guest here. It is in your best interests to listen to her carefully.” He turned and walked off.
Cathy was left standing there, behind the bars of the small cell, still wearing the handcuffs. She looked around, at the bare prison conditions. She was starting to feel trapped, closed in, as she grabbed the cell door and tried to pull it open. The locked door felt as solid as the walls around her.
"I know just how you feel, I did the same thing.” The voice behind her suddenly reminded Cathy she was not alone in her captivity. "Hi, my name is Paula, I've been here a while, so I can tell you what's going to happen. You aren't going to like it much. My educated guess is that you did something to really piss off your Master?"
"Hi, I'm Cathy, and yes, I sure did, something really stupid. I ran away.” Paula's calm, friendly tone brought her back from the edge of panic. Turning, she saw a woman of about her age, and all too obviously in the same situation since Paula was dressed in nothing more than a collar and chastity belt, the same as Cathy. She watched as Paula unfolded from her kneeling position and settled into a more comfortable pose, leaning against the rear wall while sitting.
Paula patted a spot on the floor next to her. "Make yourself comfortable, we aren't going anywhere for a while", she said with a smile. Cathy turned away from the cell door and sat down beside Paula, moving around slightly to find the best way to sit with the belt around her. "I know just how it is; it took me weeks to be able to sit down normally with these steel panties on." Paula laughed, watching Cathy squirm as she tried to find a comfortable way to sit. “For what it’s worth, a while back I was in exactly the same position you are now, so I think I can anticipate most of your questions.”
Paula continued, "Let me fill you in on what you need to know first. Welcome to the Center, that’s the name used for this place. Your Master has sent you to a training school, a nice sounding name for a prison, so that you will be taught how to properly serve and obey him. I know, you didn't agree to it, but you gave yourself to him, no limits, and now he is holding you to your promise. It’s the same story for all of us. In any case, the only way you can get out of here is if your Master comes and takes you out. No one knows where you are, no one is going to rescue you, and I can assure you that you are not going to escape. Any requests on our part to be allowed to depart are ignored. I suppose it’s totally illegal: false imprisonment, kidnapping, all of that stuff, but no one here seems to worry about it.
"The guards here in the Center, the Wardens, are a humorless bunch. You won't be able to influence them. They decide when you eat, sleep, where you go, and worst of all they watch you all the time. Don't try to be friendly or make small talk, they won't respond. One crucial thing: when they tell you to do something, whatever it is, don't hesitate, don't stop to think or ask questions; do it as fast as you can."
"What happens if I don't?" Cathy asked carefully. This was not sounding too good. True, she had given herself without restrictions to her Master, but not to be locked away in a prison cell deep underground. And certainly not to be handed over to strangers. A fantasy game for a day or so might be fun, but to be here for weeks, even months?
"Improper behavior is discouraged," Paula answered, in a lowered voice. "We are not allowed to discuss how it is discouraged. It varies, but it is never pleasant. I have been subjected to it in the past. I won’t describe what happened, it isn't permitted, but I would do anything to avoid facing it again."
"Some basics now. You saw the sign at the entrance? About the secured area? Those rules apply to us. We don't get clothes, so the first rule is easy. As for the collar, if yours is like mine it's another easy one; Master neglected to leave a key so I could take it off. Same for the chastity belt, what the Wardens call a control belt, oh yes, it does indeed control. Not likely you will be taking that off on your own either. The other rules are for when you are moved from one place to another. Outside of a locked cell like this, you have to be escorted by a Warden at all times, and you have to be in restraints. Considering that a Warden won't even open the door unless he has the cuffs on you first, you won't have to worry about wandering around the corridors by yourself."
Cathy sat back, considering what Paula had told her. The Wardens would have total, unrestricted control over her; she would not be able to put up even a token resistance if they became aggressive. "Paula, the Wardens, they are so powerful, do they ever, um, touch you? As a Master would?"
Paula laughed, and then sighed. "No, you needn't worry about that. Only your Master can make use of you in that way. Besides, they don't have the key to this.” She tapped a finger against the metal shield held close against her body by the belt. "No access. Other that the morning shower routine it stays closed until your Master comes to visit. You are well protected.” Paula grimaced, "protected even against yourself."
Cathy relaxed, relieved that her Master had cared for her enough to protect her against the Wardens. But as she sat there, pausing for a moment to consider what Paula had just said, an uneasy feeling came over her. She had always enjoyed the attention of her Master, sharing their mutual sexual pleasure, virtually on a daily basis. That would not be happening now. She looked down at the belt around her own waist, felt the steel between her legs. She put a hand over the front, touching the cool hardness there. Unconsciously her fingers went to the side, trying to reach underneath, the tight fit stopping her. A cold sense of foreboding ran through Cathy's body as she turned to her companion, asking, "Paula, how long have you been here? How long since your Master last opened your belt?"
Paula turned to Cathy, hung her head, and in a low voice, barely audible, said, "I don't know precisely, we aren't permitted to know the date or time, but I think I have been here at least two years. My Master has not visited me for at least one year. My belt has remained on since his last visit. And if you know what’s good for you get your hand away from there!"
Cathy quickly jerked her hands back. She sat there in shock at Paula's words. Incarcerated here for two years, and more than a year without her Master, Cathy couldn’t imagine conditions like that. "How...why...what happened?" Cathy asked.
"I don't know why my Master has not come for me" Paula answered in a low voice. "The Wardens prepare reports on us and send them to our Masters. If the report is favorable, a Master will visit to encourage her. If the report is not favorable, well, your Master doesn't show up. If he doesn't come for you, then here you stay. You are not allowed any type of outside communication at all; you can’t even call or write to him. There’s no limit on how long anyone stays here."
Paula continued, "You need to know about the classes. We learn from the 'teachers.' Like us, they are submissive females, but they are here only to help train us. They must follow the same rules we do, but they have privileges we do not. We are required to follow their orders. They are not allowed to strike you, or punish you directly, but they can call a Warden and report you for bad behavior. You don't want that to happen. The Wardens of course have no restrictions on what they can do.
"The teachers have had firsthand experience here. They are recruited from former graduates of this very school. They were sent here by their Masters to learn to serve. Now their Masters have sent them back to teach, but not a one is happy to be back here again and they let us know it. Be careful around them, they can make life miserable for you, and even worse, they can influence the progress reports sent to your Master. Sometimes I think the reason I have been here so long is that some teacher keeps giving me poor reviews, but I really don't know, we are never allowed to see the reports."
Cathy covered her mouth, hiding a yawn. "I'm sorry, but I was up much of the night coming here. Will we be given some bedding to sleep on?"
"You just broke several rules," Paula admonished Cathy. "You are not permitted to discuss anything prior to coming here. Don't even tell anyone what today's date is, we are not allowed to keep track of time. As for sleeping, eating, any activity, you do it only when given permission. No matter how tired you are, don't fall asleep until you have approval. The Wardens will bring something for us to eat, and will take us to dormitories when it is time for us to sleep. Don't ever ask."
Cathy nodded, "Okay, I get it. But isn't there anything we can do?"
"You can wait, and obey," Paula shot back immediately. "That's what we are here for. Put anything else out of your head. You won't fool them for a minute. These people are experts. They watch us every minute of the day; listen to every word we say. You can't keep any secrets from them. If you don't change, learn what they are teaching you, work as hard as you can, then your future is staring at those bars.
"Now, a Warden will probably be coming soon, with some food. When you hear the hallway gate open, you must immediately come to a kneeling position, in the rear of the cell. Face the door in front, keep your back straight, legs apart, hands on thighs, head down, your eyes focused on a point just in front of your knees. Hmm, with handcuffs on just hold your hands in front of you, at your waist. Don't speak, and don't move, unless the Warden addresses you. Stay that way until he has walked past the front of the cell. You will learn when you can break position. For now, wait until I give you the all clear."
No sooner had Paula spoken than both the women heard the rattle of a key in the hallway gate. Quickly Cathy moved to kneel as Paula had told her, glancing over at the other woman to see if she had missed anything. Since her wrists were still bound together she had to hold them in front rather than on her thighs as Paula did. At the sound of the Warden's footsteps Cathy straightened her back before lowering her gaze.
The footsteps stopped. Cathy dared not look up, but she sensed the Warden at the cell door, standing there, inspecting them. A sudden fear stabbed at her, would her position be acceptable? Would the Warden take her away, to "discourage her improper behavior?" She concentrated on breathing, holding herself motionless, praying that she would be found pleasing.
The Warden motioned behind him to a nearby woman with a small cart. She came over to the cell door, the chains fastening her ankles together making a faint rattle. She pushed two paper boxes through the cell door bars, moving quickly back to her cart when she finished, after a nod from the Warden. He motioned with his hand for her to follow when he left.
Cathy and Paula still knelt in position, waiting. Finally they heard the sound of the hallway gate being shut, and Paula raised her head. "It's okay to move now, let's eat.” Paula stood and picked up the box lunches on the floor. Each contained a sandwich and a bottle of water. “Another rule, you have to eat the entire meal, no matter what it is, and you can’t share any of it with anyone else. You can’t save any of it for later either.”
Cathy relaxed, returning to her sitting position against the wall. When she reached out to take one of the meals from Paula she noticed her hand trembling. What had happened? She had been terrified to move, afraid she might displease the Warden, a complete stranger. She leaned back against the wall, too weak and shaken to move. "I know, take a deep breath, close your eyes for a moment, calm down," came Paula's comforting words. "Try to eat something. And no, I'm not surprised at your reaction, it happens to all of us. Just try to relax and let it be natural; it will come easier that way. The Wardens are large, powerful, commanding men, all true dominants; you can't help but respond to them. And in a very real sense, if you fail to please them, well...," Paula trailed off.
Cathy and Paula sat together, slowly eating, each lost in thought, Paula hoping for the day her Master would return, Cathy hoping she would be able to survive the days to come. "Is this breakfast, lunch, or dinner?" Cathy asked.
"No, don't ask a question like that. It means you are trying to keep track of the day. We have meals, we go to classes, we sleep, sometimes we have a bit of free time, and if we are very lucky a visit from our Masters. There is no fixed schedule; we simply do as we are told. I don't know what will happen next. We might be taken to a class, or we might be allowed to sleep. We wait; others will make the choice for us. That’s part of what you need to learn here."
Paula continued to tell Cathy about the rules, no fighting, don't raise your voice, be respectful and pay attention to Wardens and teachers at all times, the list went on and on. "Just remember," Paula summarized, "when in doubt, wait for someone to tell you what to do. And one other thing. Don't ever try to get around this belt," she emphasized by tapping a finger on the metal shield covering her. "It isn't easy, but you might be able to work a finger under it. Don't even think about it. No matter where you are, they will catch you. Trust me, the consequences are not something you ever want to go through."
Cathy jerked her hand away from the edge of the shield, next to her leg. She had been absent-mindedly rubbing it while thinking about her Master. Cathy looked up, all around the cell, searching for hidden cameras or microphones. Paula noticed her searching and shook her head.
"Don't bother looking. I don't know where they are, but they have to be here somewhere. These days cameras are no bigger than the size of a pin so there is no way you can find them. Same for microphones. I’m sure every room is fully wired and someone is watching. I do know they seem to see and hear everything. That’s why no one has ever been able to keep anything secret here.” Paula smiled ruefully, "I found out the hard way."
Again both of them heard the hallway gate, which meant a Warden was coming. Cathy and Paula quickly knelt. The Warden stopped at the cell door, then in clipped words he ordered, "Both of you, stand and approach the door.” Paula gracefully rose to her feet, swiftly moving to the door with short steps. Cathy stood behind her, trying to copy Paula's graceful movements as best she could but hampered by the handcuffs on her wrists. Both stopped at the door, facing the Warden. Neither one moved or spoke, waiting for the next order. “You,” he pointed to Paula, “turn around. Put your hands behind your back.”
The Warden took out a set of handcuffs from a pouch on his belt. He fastened Paula's hands behind her, reaching through the bars. Then he turned to Cathy. “Hold out your hands,” he ordered. He reached in and unlocked her left wrist. “Turn around, hands behind your back.” He locked her wrists together again, this time behind her back. Then he crouched down, reaching through the bars to lock leg irons around Cathy's ankles. He reached over and placed an identical set of leg chains on Paula. Finished with their restraints he stood again, unlocking their door. He took Paula out first, locking one end of a chain to Paula's handcuffs, and then motioned for Paula to come through the door. He fastened the other end of the chain to Cathy's handcuffs, linking the two of them together. Very practical, thought Cathy, we can’t dash off in opposite directions.
The Warden closed the cell door behind them before starting down the hallway, his hand on Paula’s upper arm. Chained together, Cathy had to follow. She watched Paula closely, trying to emulate her poise and walk as Paula took short quick steps, working within the limits of her leg chains to keep up with the Warden’s pace. Cathy struggled to keep up, her own chains sharply limiting her ability to walk.
As they walked down the corridor, Cathy was uncertain of what was to come. Was she being taken to a class, to face the dreaded teachers? Or worse, to be punished? She thought back to when the meal came, had she sensed some kind of disappointment in the guard? Or the way her hand had rubbed against the belt, was that not allowed? What would they do to her and would Paula be punished too, because Cathy had not learned quickly enough? Whatever was about to happen, she knew she could not prevent it.
The Warden led the two women through an empty corridor, destination unknown. From long practice Paula was able to match the pace, but Cathy could not keep up with the guard, stumbling several times as the chain linking her ankles pulled taut, threatening to make her trip and fall. The Warden caught her and kept her from falling, but a quick glance by Cathy revealed a frown on the Warden's face. He slowed down, but she could tell he was not pleased. Cathy again concentrated on the short, swift steps Paula was taking, trying to copy them. It seemed she would have to learn how to walk again.
Twice they stopped while the Warden unlocked a barred gate in the corridor. The point of all the security wasn’t lost on Cathy. Escaping from a cell would get her no farther than the next gate. As far as she could see every door required a key, and only the Wardens had the keys. Beyond that there were no signs or markers of any sort in the corridors or next to the gates. Cathy realized she couldn’t even retrace her steps back to the cell she and Paula had been in. Somehow the Wardens knew exactly where to go, but she couldn’t figure out how they did it.
The Warden finally stopped at a solid metal door off the corridor, opened it, led the two women through, and locked it behind them. They walked down yet another hallway, passing several cells with three or four women in each. Cathy saw that all were kneeling, dressed in nothing more than a collar and belt, the wide strip of metal prominent between their spread legs. The Warden stopped at a cell door, opened the door, pushed Cathy and Paula inside, then slammed shut the door. Both women stood just inside the door, not moving, waiting for the next command. The Warden reached through the bars, freed their ankles, and then removed their handcuffs. He turned and walked away.
"Okay, you can relax now," Paula told Cathy. "This is Beth," Paula pointed to the nearer woman, "and this is Twenty-Three. Her Master does not allow her to use a name, so the Wardens have assigned a number to her.” The other, younger nameless woman looked up, nodded to the newcomer. Cathy looked over to Paula. "This is a dormitory. The Wardens will bring us some cushions and bedding in a while, so we can sleep on the floor. The Wardens move us around, so no telling if we will be in the same cell next time. No one knows how many women are kept here. Because of the way we are separated, it can be weeks before you realize someone is gone. Even then you never know if it's because her Master came for her," Paula lowered her voice, "or if the Wardens have taken her away for another reason."
Cathy, tired after the long night, strode to the back wall and sat down. She looked over at Twenty-Three, sitting close by. "Hi, it must be difficult if you can't even use your name.” The woman looked back at Cathy, shrugged, and then lowered her head. Cathy thought she might have said something to offend the young woman.
Beth spoke up for the first time, "Cathy, you should know that Twenty-Three is not allowed to speak, except when directly addressed by a Warden or teacher. She was caught whispering to another woman during a training class. The teacher called a Warden, who ordered Twenty-Three not to speak without permission.”
Cathy looked at Twenty-Three, then back to Beth. "How long will she be punished?"
Beth and Paula both smiled as Paula answered. "Until a Warden allows her to speak again. That's part of the process of discouraging improper behavior; you don't know how long the punishment will last. It could be an hour, a day, or a month."
Hearing a sound in the hallway outside their cell all four women quickly knelt facing the door. A Warden appeared at the door, followed by two women pushing a cart laden with bedding. At a nod from the Warden the two women pushed four sleeping pads through the bars, and four light blankets. The Warden then moved down the hallway. He was followed by the two women, accompanied by a light rattle from the leg chains between their ankles as they pushed the bedding cart behind him.
Cathy stood after the other women rose, and followed them over to the bedding. Each one took a pad and blanket, picked out a spot on the cell floor, and made up a modest bed. Once more she looked over to Paula. "Wait until the lights go down before you stretch out. While the lights are dim you don't have to kneel when a Warden comes by. You can sleep until you are awakened and the lights come back up. The Wardens will walk by several times at night, making rounds. When the lights go down, you are not allowed to talk or move around.” Cathy nodded to show she understood Paula's explanation.
The women stood by their beds for several minutes, until the lights finally dimmed. She lay down, covering herself with the light blanket, little more than a thin sheet. The events of the last day sweep over her; her rebellion, her subsequent capture, her Master putting her in here. She closed her eyes, drifting off to an exhausted sleep, feeling the fear of the unknown facing her, and the loneliness of her isolation, cut off from her Master's love and care.
The First Day
Cathy woke up when a hand shook her shoulder. "Get up sleepy, you don't want a Warden to catch you in bed," Paula warned her. She opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented at the sight of the bare walls and the barred cell door. Then she remembered where she was, and quickly rose from her sparse bed. She saw the other three women quietly folding their blankets and stacking the sleeping pads near the door. She bent to fold her own blanket as they had, and placed her bedding on top of the small pile. Cathy then looked over at Paula, a question on her face as to what would happen next.
"In a few moments the cart will come by to collect the bedding, and we usually get something to eat at the same time. After breakfast we are taken to the showers to clean up, followed by an inspection and classes afterward. That's the usual, but it doesn't always happen that way," Paula explained. "Sometimes we don't eat, sometimes we have exercise periods, and sometimes....well, we have disciplinary training.” Paula and the other women grimaced at those words.
A now familiar sound from the corridor, and all four women knelt. The bedding cart moved along the corridor, stopping at other cells until it finally reached their door. Two women, under the watchful eye of a Warden, pulled the bedding through the bars and piled it on the cart. The Warden raised his hand, and the two women immediately stopped what they were doing. He took one of the blankets, examined the folds, and then shook it out, examining it. Satisfied there were no secret messages on the blanket, or anything hidden inside, he handed it back to one of the two cart attendants, who folded it carefully and placed it back on the cart. The Warden and the bedding cart moved off.
Cathy started to relax, but stopped as she saw that none of the others had moved. She held her position, copying what the others did. And wisely so, for in a moment another cart was at the door, this one with breakfast. After the food cart moved on, the women rose and walked to the door, each one taking a covered plate. Cathy followed, picking up the last one. As they sat eating, Cathy asked Paula and Beth about the routine during the day, classes, inspections, training sessions.
The food cart returned, picking up the empty plates. Behind the cart was a group of Wardens. Two of them stopped at the cell door. One stood in front of the door and began issuing orders. "Stand up, line up in single file facing the door.” All four women stood and got in line to comply with his command. He unlocked the door, held it open just enough for one woman to pass through at a time. "First woman, step into the corridor, extend your wrists.” First in line, Beth stepped through the open cell doorway and stopped, extending her arms out in front. The second Warden fastened handcuffs on her outstretched wrists
The handcuffs were connected to a long chain with several other pairs of cuffs. As the Wardens ordered each woman out, she was locked into the next set of cuffs on the chain. The last one out, Cathy was at the end of the chain. At the head of the chain, a Warden gripped Beth's arm and began to lead her toward the hallway exit, the rest of the women forced to follow as the slack in the group chain was taken up. Cathy watched the others in front of her, trying to imitate their movements, back straight, head down, with quick, short steps.
The Warden led them through several gates to the shower room. One at a time, each woman was released from the coffle chain and allowed to enter the shower room through an open door. As Cathy went through, the Warden shut and locked the door behind her. She followed Paula into the showers.
The warm water and soft soap felt luxurious. Cathy stayed under the shower as long as she could, relaxing in the feel of the water against her skin. As the others finished and moved off she followed them into the next area where a woman was issuing towels from a small room. Cathy took one of the large, soft, fluffy towels and dried herself. Following the others, she next picked up a small hair dryer and, watching how the others did it, dried under her collar and belt. She closed her eyes a moment, enjoying the sensation of the warm air through the narrow slit of the shield in the front of her belt. But only for a moment, remembering Paula's warning about trying to defeat the belt's control. She moved over to a sink and mirror, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair.
Finishing up, she headed to the exit door, where the other women had gathered together. Cathy felt ready to face her tasks for the morning, but suddenly realized she didn't know what time it was, or even which day. Thinking back, her Master had brought her into the school at dawn Saturday morning, she had spent some time with Paula in a cell, and then slept, but she had no idea of how long she had been asleep. It could be either late Saturday night, or some time Sunday morning. No windows, no clocks, and an irregular schedule, made it impossible for them to track how long they had been here.
As before, a Warden came to the exit door, ordered them to line up single file, and again handcuffed them together in a line. As they walked along yet another unmarked corridor, Cathy began to feel lost, unsure of which direction they were moving. There were no identifying marks anywhere on branching corridors or doors. It was like a maze, no way to know if she had passed through the same corridor an hour ago. Even if she could escape from the Warden now escorting them, she would soon become lost, and the numerous locked gates would further limit where she could go. She grimaced, realizing her Master was right; she would not be leaving of her own choice. She wondered how the Wardens always knew exactly where to go, how they could tell direction without any visual help.
Eventually they stopped in a hallway, behind another group of women. The group in front was chained together by the wrists too, but this group was facing the wall, hands raised above their heads. When the supervising Warden in Cathy's group halted them he ordered the women to assume the same position, hands above their heads, against the wall, feet back, legs spread, leaning against the wall. Another Warden was moving down the line, inspecting each woman, checking the security of her collar and belt.
As the inspector reached Cathy, she tensed. She felt his hands on her, first testing the belt fit, that it wouldn't slip over her wide hips, then making sure the shield was held tightly against her. He pulled on her collar, verifying it was securely fastened about her neck, then ran his hand along first the collar and then the chastity belt, feeling for any signs of tampering. He stepped back, his eyes conducting a visual inspection. She held her breath, not daring to move, yet stimulated by his touch and gaze. After a moment, he moved on, inspecting Beth, next to Cathy, in the same thorough way. Cathy remembered to breathe again, thankful she had passed inspection.
First Class
The inspection finally completed, a Warden at the front of the line unlocked the door and began passing the women into the classroom. When Cathy reached the door she was freed of the chain, after which the Warden took her arm and guided her through the classroom door. Inside the room Cathy looked around, seeing a larger space compared to her previous small cells. There were several small, flat cushions in rows on the floor. The women in front of her were positioning themselves behind the cushions, standing quietly. Cathy walked over to the next free one, standing as the other women did, feet slightly apart, hands at side, back straight, head down, not talking or moving about. Several more women came in behind Cathy, after which she heard the door shut and the loud click when the lock engaged.
The class stood, waiting, in silence, until another door opened at the front. Cathy raised her head just enough to see a woman dressed, or rather undressed as she was, nothing but collar and belt, but Cathy knew this was a teacher. The long thin pointer stick in the teacher's hand represented authority, authority over Cathy and the rest of the class. An uneasy feeling came over Cathy. Until this moment she hadn't really thought about the teachers, what Paula had told her, but now Cathy realized she would be forced to learn, to follow instructions and obey orders from another female.
The teacher walked to the front center of the class, turned and looked at the women in front of her. She stood there a minute, slapping the pointer against her leg, before she spoke. "I am your teacher for this class. You will address me only as Miss Sarah. Learn what I teach you, and you will be able to leave this place. Don't learn, and we will get to know each other very well. Yes, very well indeed."
She continued, "Now, you will kneel on the cushion, facing the front of the room. You will kneel with your legs together, sitting on your heels, hands on your knees, back straight, head up, looking straight ahead. You will not speak or move unless ordered to do so. You will pay attention to what I say. Do it now."
Along with the rest of the class, Cathy knelt on the small cushion, in the position ordered, looking straight ahead. The teacher moved about the class, occasionally correcting someone with a word or a touch from her pointer. As she stopped at Cathy's side, Cathy felt the pointer in the small of her back. "Feet slightly farther apart, and don't try to lean forward.” Cathy quickly moved to change her posture as the teacher ordered. The teacher paused a moment more before moving on.
When she finished her inspection the teacher returned to the front of the class, with all eyes on her. "You are here to learn how to serve your Master. Each of you has done something to displease him, that's how you got here in the first place. I and the other teachers are here to make sure you don't make that mistake again. You are here to focus on one goal, pleasing your Master. The isolation is to keep out the distractions. Your confinement here, well, that’s to motivate you.” She smiled at the last part.
Cathy knelt on her cushion, listening to the teacher lecture about the submissive mental attitude. As Sarah the teacher moved around in the front of the room, Cathy followed her every movement, not daring to glance away. On and on the teacher droned, constantly returning to the core of her lesson, "your Master is always present.” As the lecture wore on, the kneeling position became increasingly uncomfortable.
Finally the teacher stopped. "We’ll take a break now. You may stand and stretch, walk about, and talk quietly.” Cathy sighed in relief, standing up with the others to work out the growing pain in her legs and lower back.
As Cathy slowly paced back and forth the teacher motioned for her to come to the front of the room. "Cathy, please come with me," Sarah told her, gesturing toward the teacher's door at the front of the classroom.
"Yes, Miss Sarah," Cathy answered, following the teacher to the door. A tall, handsome looking Warden opened the door from the other side, motioning Sarah and Cathy into the hallway. A plain wooden door was open just down the corridor. With a look at the Warden, and his nod, Sarah led Cathy down the hall and through the door, into a small plain room beyond.
From the furniture, it appeared to be a lounge for the teachers. There were a few round tables with chairs around them. Sarah went over to a table with a package on top of it. Unwrapping the package Sarah took out two dresses. She checked the size tags, then handed one to Cathy, "Here, this should fit you, put it on."
Cathy took the dress, started to put it on, and then stopped as she remembered the sign at the lower entrance. "Miss Sarah, the rules said we weren't allowed clothing," Cathy questioned, looking at the teacher.
"Normally no, but teachers have special privileges in the lounge area, including the right to wear clothes. As my guest you may also wear a dress. My Master, who is also a Warden here, the one you just saw in the hallway, has given permission," Sarah reassured Cathy. They both got dressed before sitting down at the table.
"You can relax in here; you won't be punished for breaking any rules. I like to bring the new ones here and get to know them, casually. My Master will join us in a little while. Meanwhile, we can talk over a cup of coffee," Sarah explained, while she stood and went to a coffeepot in the corner. Sarah poured two cups, and then brought them back to the table.
Cathy took a drink from the cup, then leaned back in her chair and relaxed. "May I speak freely?" she asked Sarah.
"Yes, within reason. I won't answer questions about the Center, or about anyone else, but I can tell you a little about myself," Sarah answered. Sarah went on explaining that her Master had worked here for five years as a Warden, she herself had been sent here by her Master once, several years ago, and later she had become a teacher, both because her Master ordered it, and Sarah could be near her Master more often. As Sarah talked, Cathy sat back in her chair, coffee cup balanced on one knee over her crossed legs. It was a bit of normality, a pleasant conversation with a friend over coffee, an escape from the oppressive atmosphere in the rest of the Center. They sat talking for about ten minutes when the door opened and the same tall Warden entered. "You may remain seated," he said, "I’m Sarah's Master, Cathy. You may address me as sir.”
Cathy and Sarah both set down their cups and turned to face him. "Thank you, sir," Cathy spoke first, followed by "Welcome, Master," from Sarah. The Warden went to the coffee pot. Cathy quickly uncrossed her legs behind his back. While she watched he poured a cup, and joined them at the table. He took a sip and leaned back, smiling at Cathy and placed his hand on Sarah's knee.
"Please continue your conversation. Like Sarah, I'm on a break right now. The normal rules are relaxed in here. You may talk freely, as long as you are respectful, both to me and your teacher.” He nodded toward Sarah to emphasize his point.
"Yes, sir," Cathy said, "we were talking about how Sarah came to be here.” As Cathy spoke to him, she set the coffee cup on the table and rested her hands in her lap, her legs together, facing him. Cathy was self-conscious when he looked at her, even in the informal situation, and sat straight in her chair.
Sarah continued to talk a few more minutes while she and Cathy drank their coffee. When they had finished, Sarah looked at her Master. He nodded, and she stood, motioning Cathy up as well. "It's time we return to the class. Remove your dress and leave it on the chair, and leave the cup on the table, someone else will see to it.” Cathy stood with Sarah, reluctantly removing her dress, following Sarah's example. The Warden, Sarah's Master, stood and walked to the door.
"Both of you stand in front of me and extend your wrists," he ordered. Once again the rules were in force. Cathy and Sarah stepped forward, raising their arms. The Warden placed handcuffs on each of them, a small chain running from one set of cuffs to the other. Then he took hold of the connecting chain in one hand, and opened the door with the other. Pulling on the cuffs, he led them down the corridor and back to the classroom door.
Unlocking the door, he motioned them both through, removing their restraints before closing and locking the door. The rest of the students in the class were all standing in front of their cushions. Cathy looked at Sarah before taking her place.
The front of the classroom now had two large video monitors, and a control panel between them. The teacher went to the controls, turning on the monitors before facing the class. "I am your teacher. You will address me only as Miss Sarah. You will now kneel, legs together, back straight, face front, hands on knees.” Cathy and the other students did as Sarah ordered.
After everyone had knelt, the teacher pushed a button on the control panel and the image of Cathy and Sarah in the lounge appeared on the screen. Cathy watched with growing unease while the break was replayed. At the end Sarah paused the video.
"Now first, remember what I was saying, your Master is always present, even when he is not with you? Your attitude should always reflect that idea. You do not act one way when he is present, another when he is absent.” Sarah stepped away from the monitors, toward Cathy.
"Cathy, you are new, this may not be obvious to you, so listen carefully. The rest of you, what did Cathy do? Did anyone spot it?"
Silence for a moment, then Beth raised her hand, "Miss Sarah? May I answer?"
Sarah looked around, and then nodded toward Beth, "Go ahead."
"Miss Sarah, when you first sat down and started talking, when Cathy was sitting across from you she had her legs crossed. But after your Master entered, she sat with her legs uncrossed."
"Exactly, very good Beth," the teacher answered. "Cathy? Why the change?"
Cathy hesitated for a moment, an understanding of what Sarah had been lecturing about suddenly dawning in her. "Miss Sarah, it was a difference in attitude. Talking with you, I crossed my legs without even thinking about it. But when your Master entered, at some level I was aware of his power and dominance, even though he isn't my Master. I have always desired to be fully open and available to my Master. I never cross my legs when he is present, it would be too much like trying to conceal myself, to deny my availability to him. I reacted without thinking, uncrossing my legs."
"Precisely, you forgot your Master's presence when it was just the two of us talking," Sarah went on. "Yes, you behaved properly when my Master entered. But there should always be something you have to remind yourself of him, in this case the collar," Sarah raised a hand to the band around her own neck. "Even if you don't have a collar on, there is always something, a bracelet, a necklace or locket, maybe your earrings, something that represents the man in your life. Use it as a constant reminder to think of him, about him. It is a tool to reinforce your own submissive desires."
Cathy reflected on the comment, remembering the small silver locket and chain he had given her. She always wore it when they were separated for any length of time, though she had left it on the dresser when she ran off. It would take on a new meaning now, a reminder not only of her Master, but also of how she should act and think.
"Well done, that concludes the class for today. You may stand. Line up single file at the rear door, Wardens will escort you to your next assignment.” Sarah turned and went to the teacher's entrance, waiting for a Warden to come for her.
Cathy got in line with the others, still pondering what she had learned. When she came to the door, a Warden took her arm and handcuffed her to a chain with three other women she hadn't met before. The same Warden started to lead the group down the hallway. Chained to the rest, Cathy followed at the end.
All in all, she thought, it hadn't been so bad. Miss Sarah, the teacher, had been strict, but also friendly and understanding, not at all like the harsh and cruel treatment she had dreaded. And she had actually learned something. She smiled, no, this wouldn't be so bad after all. All she had to do was pay attention, follow the rules, learn the lessons, and surely her master would soon take her back home. She looked forward to talking with her new friend Paula about her lesson today.
Life Goes On
The classes continued, and Cathy learned more of the submissive lifestyle. She quickly fell into the routine, up in the morning, classes, exercises, some free time to relax. Like the others she lost track of the days. She had no idea of the time of day, the date, or even the month. She thought it had been less than two weeks, but she wasn't really sure, and of course it was forbidden to discuss it.
Interspersed with the lessons were exercise periods and what were called “self-discipline periods”. The exercises weren’t difficult. There were the typical aerobics and some more traditional exercises, usually in a room equipped with sunlamps in the ceiling lights. Cathy looked forward to the exercise periods because they invariably got some free rest time afterwards. Since they were never allowed outside the exercises helped to keep muscle tone and the lights helped to maintain vitamin levels from the skin.
What were euphemistically called disciplinary periods Cathy did not enjoy at all and dreaded each one. They were placed in a long narrow room in a line, kneeling on a cushion facing mirrors. For however long the session lasted they must remain immobile, in a submissive posture, staring at their reflection in the mirror. Behind them Wardens would walk back and forth, scrutinizing them closely for any mistakes. The pacing behind her made Cathy very nervous and difficult for her to concentrate. After the first session, she had asked Paula why they were forced to practice their posture in such an odd way.
“That’s not what it’s about,” Paula had told her. “They deliberately make it unpleasant. You aren’t supposed to be enjoying your stay here, remember? Aside from that, there is another purpose. It’s a type of training exercise, no, not on how well you present yourself, but on how well you handle orders you don’t like. It’s easy to submit when you are told to do what you want to do anyway. When it really counts is how well you obey when it isn’t fun, like when you are required to kneel in front of a mirror with some stranger staring at you, something you would never do normally. That image you see in the mirror? You are being forced to confront your own nature, the core of who you are. No pretense, nothing concealed. You begin to realize just how truly dependent you are on your master. Give it some time, Cathy. After a while you start to see a change. Who knows, you may even start to enjoy it,” Paula laughed. Cathy thought about it. Paula was right in one respect; the disciplinary periods were not pleasant interludes.
One particular lesson had fascinated Cathy. Like many others it started with a teacher entering the classroom, in this case Sarah again, but for this one lesson Sarah’s master also attended. At the start, he sat down at the front of the class. When everyone was ready, he nodded to Sarah for her to begin.
“I’m sure you have all read the countless books and essays on what it means to be submissive, how we should behave, what makes us the way we are. But did you ever wonder what it is that goes on inside your master’s head? What is it that drives him to dominate you? In this lesson we will look at those questions and more. Now this may surprise many of you, but I am not the most qualified to talk about this subject.” Everyone laughed at Sarah’s joke. “So I will join you for a while and we shall all listen to my Master describe the innermost dark secrets of that most feared and loved, by us at least, species of man, our masters the dominant males. Afterwards we will discuss how we can use that knowledge to better serve.” Sarah went to a cushion to one side of the rest of the class and knelt facing her master.
Once she was settled he stood and began. “Why am I dominant? Why do I want to own someone like Sarah? What is it that makes me want to control her entire life, dictating rules, overseeing and approving her every action? Well, here’s the secret: men want to dominate, to master, because they are insecure. They want to control their environment. They want to control anything and everything that affects their lives. They want to be sure that what they have today they will also have tomorrow.
“Wait a minute you say, isn’t it about sex? Don’t men want to have a willing woman available any time, day or night? Sure, any man who denies it is lying, but there’s more to it. Yes he does want to find you there whenever he rolls over in bed in the middle of the night, but he also wants to know you will be there tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. He wants you to be his best friend, who’s always there, the one he can share his secrets with, the one he can trust. Yes, trust, surprised? You hear so much about how a good submissive builds trust in her master, but you don’t think about the rest of it. He has to trust you as well, trust that you will keep his secrets, trust that you will be there for him, trust that you won’t walk out or turn on him.”
“It goes back to that basic insecurity. He wants a woman he can spend a lifetime with, but he has that craving for control, to make sure everything is done his way. Who can best answer that need? Someone who loves him, is devoted to him, wants to serve him, take care of him, but also someone who will obey him, defer to his judgment, be it right or wrong, someone who can allow herself to become dependent on him. What type of woman would best be suited to a role like that?”
He stopped and looked around at the class. Cathy had never thought in those terms before. She couldn’t picture her master as being insecure.
“The answer is obvious to all of you here: a deeply submissive woman,” he continued. “Each one of you has chosen to submit to your master. Why you choose to do so is another topic, but you submit knowing that it means you accept his unrestricted authority over your lives. Is it what he really wants? Yes, and don’t ever doubt it. Your submission is like a powerful narcotic drug to him. The more he gets from you, the more he wants. It draws him to you, an attraction more powerful than you can imagine.
“As a submissive it must seem that you take all the risks. You give him everything, yet he could abandon you on a whim. Reality is far different. The more you draw him in, the more power you give to him through your submission, the more he will need you. Can you walk away from him on a whim? No? Well, he can’t either. You are fulfilling dreams he’s had since childhood. He will no more abandon you than he would cut off his arm. Remember this: just as his dominance binds you to him, so your submission holds him to you.
“To me, domination is not about what I actually do, but the potentials, what I could do if I wished. If I were so inclined I could order Sarah to crawl around on the floor barking like a dog. Am I going to do that? No, it would be silly. But I know I have the ability to make her do that if I wanted it. See the distinction? That’s why your master isn’t some kind of abusive monster. He doesn’t need to prove he’s in charge by issuing a constant stream of orders and rules, to put you through some degrading or humiliating scene. Rather he sees, from how you obey him, how his power over you is there whenever he wants to use it.”
“We’ll take a short break now. Afterwards Sarah will continue the lesson. Sarah? Come to the front.” He concluded his lecture and left by the teacher’s entrance. Sarah stood after he had left the room and took her place at the front of the class.
“As my Master said, there will be a break, you can stand and talk quietly. Afterward I’ll speak of my own experience and how it fits with what you’ve just heard.” She gestured for everyone to stand.
After the break Sarah called the class to order again. “You have heard from my Master about what motivates a dominant male to seek our submission, to be our masters. Now, how do we use that information to better serve them?
“Remember what he said about insecurity, and that drive to control to overcome it? We attract a master in part by offering our submission, but it doesn’t stop there. We have an obligation to demonstrate his control over us in tangible ways. Let’s take an example to illustrate the point.
“I’m sure every one of you has certain rules imposed on you by your master. Some may be practical, some for your own good, but there are always a few he dictates just for his own personal enjoyment. For instance, my Master insists that I always put on my left shoe first and take off my right shoe first. Sounds sort of ridiculous, doesn’t it? How could it matter to anyone which shoe you put on first? It’s a rule, so of course you follow it, but more than likely you will think it a waste of time. It isn’t. There is an excellent reason for rules like that, if you know how to look at it.”
Cathy thought about some of her own rules. One oddity was that her master insisted that she always wear a skirt and blouse when they ate lunch together. She hadn’t thought much about it, perhaps he liked to look at her legs, but she never understood why it had to be a skirt and not a dress. A few times she had forgotten, so he had told her to go change before they sat down at the table. After that she had gotten into the habit of simply wearing a skirt during the day. She listened as Sarah continued.
“Does my Master care which shoe I put on first? Not really. Does he care if I follow the rule or not? Absolutely, if I forget even once he’s on me immediately about it. After a few, umm, let’s say painful reminders, I don’t ever put on the right shoe first.” There were several laughs at Sarah’s comment; everyone there knew what she meant by a reminder. She continued with her example.
“Why does he care? Because it’s a way to control me, to see that I obey him. It’s a reassurance that he’s in charge and our roles are not subject to change. He can see his dominance over me on a daily basis. It’s important to me as well, because I know I’m doing something special for him.
“That’s the key point to this lesson. Why are all of you here? In some way or another you disobeyed your master, broke one of his rules or challenged him in some way. Do you see what happens when you do that? You strike at the core of his insecurity. For those of you who believe being sent here is unfair and an overreaction to what you did, think about it a moment. It wasn’t what you did, but what it represented which brought you here. Remember my master’s comment about potential? When you defied your master, you took away that same potential from him. He no longer had the certainty that you would be there for him. He doesn’t want to lose what he has, so here you all are.”
That ended the lesson for the day. Cathy thought about it as they were taken out of the classroom and back to their cells. In retrospect she could see what she had done. It wasn’t so much that she had walked out, but that she had deliberately disobeyed his direct order. She had intended to get his attention, but not to push their relationship to the brink. She had not understood the impact of what she had done to him. If she could turn back the clock now she would never have left that afternoon.
Time Drags On
In their short time together Cathy and Paula had become close friends. She looked forward to the long talks during their free time when she and Paula were assigned the same dormitory cell at night. She appreciated how Paula would listen to her, and sometimes offer helpful advice. Several times Paula had helped her understand the point behind the lessons. For one problem in particular, Cathy needed Paula's insight and experience.
Cathy had not felt her Master's touch in some time. It was becoming more difficult to sleep at night. Her thoughts were filled with memories of her Master, the times she had been with him. More than once her hand had strayed to the metal strip between her legs. She had jerked it away as soon as she felt the shield, warmed by contact with her body. Her desire was becoming unbearable, satisfying that desire impossible with the belt on.
Once, late at night, unable to sleep, she had dared to leave her hand between her legs, knowing she risked punishment if a Warden saw her, but driven to recklessness by her need. She had tried pressing against the steel, then rubbing it, finally even trying to slip a finger underneath it. All her clandestine efforts were to no avail, the fit was too close and the metal unyielding. She could not seek release from her desire while the belt was fastened on her. In frustration and desperation she had tried to force the waistband over her hips, but the loop around her waist was too narrow to slip.
She asked Paula what to do. Paula shrugged, "Cathy, there is no answer; all you can do is wait and hope your Master comes to visit. This device from hell," Paula grimaced, tapping the shield between her own legs with one finger, "is to make sure you don't get used to the routine here. It isn't enough to just get by, you have to work at your lessons, earn a good report from the Wardens for your Master, so that he will come to see you. That's the only way to solve your problem."
Paula's words had not helped much, but Cathy did put more effort into her lessons. And then one day her routine began to change. She had not seen Paula for several days, but that was not unusual as the Wardens constantly moved them around. Every day there was a changing mix of students and teachers in the classes. Each night had been with a different group too. Cathy had been asking Paula about visits by their masters, but Paula had been evasive, not going into detail. Cathy had hoped to find out more about it, but she hadn't had the opportunity yet. But she was sure she would see Paula in a few more days. Cathy really hadn't made any friends with the other women, other than casual conversation, and didn’t feel comfortable talking to them about intimate subjects.
The day had not seemed out of the ordinary. Cathy had gone through the usual routine and she had been placed in a cell for the night with three women she only knew slightly. She had settled in for the night, but as usual was finding it difficult to sleep. She heard the steps of a patrolling Warden, slowly walking down the hallway, pausing at each cell door. The footsteps came near her cell, before they suddenly stopped. She could see him standing at the door, looking in at them through the bars. She expected the Warden to walk on, but he just stood there, staring right at her. She became uneasy, had she done something wrong? Did they know of her attempt to get around the belt? Probably, they seemed to know everything.
"Cathy, stand up, approach the door," he ordered. Immediately she pushed back her thin blanket, rose, and went to the door. She stood in front of him, close to the bars, back straight, head down, arms at her side, waiting for his orders. "Turn around, hands behind your back, feet slightly apart.” Expecting just such orders, she turned, placed her hands behind her back, palms facing out, the backs of her wrists a few inches apart. She could see the other women watching her from their sleeping pads. She heard the familiar click as the Warden closed the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Her back to him, she heard the key in the lock, the opening door, and then his hand was around her upper arm, pulling her into the corridor. He locked the door behind her.
While she stood in the hallway a shiver went through her. How would she be punished? The Warden led her down the hallway, past several cells. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she went by, but of course no one said a word. She had to concentrate on walking, her guard set a fast pace making it difficult for her to keep up given the short chain hobbling her ankles. They went past the end of the sleeping cells, through the cell block exit, and past other rooms with closed, solid doors.
The Warden stopped in front of one unmarked door, opened it with a key, and brought her inside. It was a small room, carpeted, a table and one chair in a corner, a low bed fitted with wide leather straps placed against the wall. Her guard placed her next to the bed, and began removing her handcuffs. "Get on the bed, on your back. Place your hands and feet next to the straps."
Seeing the smaller wrist straps at the head of the bed she laid down, her hands toward the wrist restraints, and her legs as wide as possible drawing the leg chain linking her ankles taut. She looked up at him as he strapped down her wrists above her head, spread widely apart. Satisfied her hands were secured, he moved to the foot of the bed, unlocked the cuffs on her ankles, and placed them in straps too, her legs now held wide apart. Finished, he looked down at her for a moment from the foot of the bed, then without a word he turned around and walked out the door, leaving her alone. The door closed and a moment later the lights went out.
Cathy lay spread out on the bed in the dark, tied down and helpless, unable to move, wearing nothing but that accursed belt and her master's collar. Wild thoughts raced through her mind. Would she be beaten? How long would they leave her here? What if no one remembered her? She pulled on her bonds, testing them, but it was immediately obvious she had no hope of freeing herself. She relaxed, waiting patiently in the knowledge someone else would decide when she would be freed of her restraints. She remembered her lessons on trust: never panic, her master would not let her come to harm. She closed her eyes and awaited her fate, whatever it might be.
Time passed, and she drifted into a light sleep. She was only half awake when she noticed the lights were on. Opening her eyes fully, she realized someone was standing at the foot of the bed. Looking up, she saw her master towering over her, looking straight into her eyes. Shock and joy rushed through her, and an involuntary "Master...” escaped her lips before she remembered she had not been given permission to speak.
She looked up at him, tears of joy filling her eyes. Without thinking she tried to rise up, go to him, but the bed restraints held her down. He just stood there, his eyes moving up and down her body, not saying a word. Desperate to please him in any way she could, Cathy tried to pull her legs further apart, to arch her back to better display her breasts. Her eyes pleaded with him, to allow her to speak, to let her beg for his touch.
He stood there a moment longer, enjoying her wordless pleading, before he walked around to her side. He knelt down next to her, and placed one hand on her knee. His touch felt like fire to her, she gasped for air as a shiver ran through her aroused body. Still he would not allow her to speak. He lifted up his other hand, a small key dangling from a golden chain necklace he held in a fist. She recognized the key, and a wide smile appeared on her face as she nodded in eager agreement.
Cathy's master chuckled at her eagerness. He inserted the key into the lock securing the belt around her waist. Cathy was very still, hoping her master would open it, but knowing the decision was not hers to make. She watched him, trying to look at him and the key at the same time, hoping to see him open it. He paused, a low laugh as he saw her anxiety that he would not unlock her. He turned the key and released the belt that had held her prisoner for so long. He pulled out the top of the shield from the lock and away from her body, setting it down between her widely spread legs. For the first time since she had come here she was uncovered, fully open to her beloved master.
He reached down, touching her intimately, feeling her wetness. Cathy gasped and moaned, her eyes closed as the sensation washed over her. She tried to push against his hand, but he didn't allow it. Instead his hand began to roam over her, touching, stroking, exciting her. Cathy kept her eyes closed, drinking in the feel of her master's touch once again, feeling herself lose control. Distantly she felt her aroused body respond, breathing faster, nipples hard, skin hot and flushed. She heard low moaning sounds, knew she was making them, but unable to stop it. Then she sensed the presence of her master over her, around her, entering her. She pulled at the straps on her wrists and ankles, wanting to put her arms around him and pull him further into her.
She could not reach him, her master had chosen not to allow it, but she could push against him, trying to move in rhythm with him. And then the thinking stopped, she reached the point of release. Her love for her master, his love for her, her complete surrender to him, his power and dominance, all combined in an endless moment when she and her master merged, becoming as one, the parts completing the whole.
Slowly Cathy returned to her exhausted body. Feeling her master stroking her cheek, she opened her eyes, looking at him. "Quiet, no words," he told her in a low but commanding voice. She tried to reach out to him, but she was still held down. Noticing her struggle with the straps, her master leaned over and kissed her, then said "No, I'm not going to untie you. You are doing very well here, so I decided you deserved a visit as a reward. I am quite pleased with your progress so far. I will not be taking you home today, but if you continue to work hard, learn your lessons, you won't have to stay here much longer."
With those words, he reached down and pulled the shield up over her, inserting the top back into the lock plate of the belt. He turned the key, and she was once again imprisoned by the cool metal strip between her legs. Cathy's eyes went wide as he closed and locked the belt around her, but she knew any protest would be futile. The choice belonged to him; she had given it to him willingly.
He stood up and once again looked down at Cathy. He hung her belt key around his neck. "It's safe here, I'm sure I won't lose it this way," he told her, smiling as he patted the key. "I know this is hard for you, Cathy. This is not a pleasant place, and the methods can be harsh at times, but I want you to complete the program here.
"I know you didn’t agree to being sent here, to be imprisoned like this. I doubt you ever imagined anything like this would happen. But I think we have progressed beyond the issue of consent. We’ve been together long enough for you to learn I will never harm you. Every decision I have made about your life has been toward what I thought was best for you. Being here is no exception.
”I will come for you when you’re finished, Cathy, but not until then. No one here will let you leave; no matter how much you threaten or beg here you remain. You will not be released until I’m satisfied you’ve learned your lesson. But never think I will abandon you or forget about you. I miss you every day.”
He bent down and kissed her one last time, then walked out the door, closing it behind him. She heard the Warden lock the door behind her Master, then the lights in the room went off again. Tired, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of her Master. Still strapped down to the bed, unable to move and at the mercy of anyone who came into the room nevertheless she felt safe, protected by her master, trusting him to watch out for her. Whatever her future held, she knew he would be there for her, she would feel his presence.
Though Cathy was bound tightly to the bed, still she was happy and content. As she fell asleep she thought of her master, now absent but always watching over her. She was disappointed she would have to remain here, more than a little annoyed her master had left that belt on her, but she trusted him, accepted his judgment that she had not finished her lessons.
He knew her too well; he was right about not needing her consent any more. She couldn’t tell him no. He had paid for her kidnapping and confinement here, all serious crimes, but he rightly wasn’t worried about it. Even if she somehow escaped in the next few minutes she wouldn’t go to the police. That explained in part how this place could operate; no one who left would ever consider filing a complaint. Cathy sighed as she drifted off to sleep. Somehow masters always rigged the game with rules to let them win, she thought drowsily.
A Lapse
Sometime later she was awakened by a Warden's hand shaking her shoulder. Sleepily she looked up at him, momentarily confused, forgetting where she was. She started to sit up...and suddenly remembered where she was when the bed straps halted her movements. The Warden walked over to the foot of the bed, released her ankles, then walked back to the head and freed her wrists. Cathy carefully did not move, waiting to be told what she should do next. The Warden stepped back, waiting for a moment. When Cathy did not move, he nodded in approval and gestured for her to stand up. Cathy quickly got up, stretching her stiff muscles for a moment before standing in front of the guard, head lowered. He took out a pair of handcuffs, locked her wrists together in front of her, and then led her to the door, holding the chain between the cuffs in his hand.
He took her through the open door, and then closed it behind her. He stood by the door for a moment, still holding her wrists, until a line of women came by in the hallway. Her Warden placed Cathy at the end of the line, wrists in cuffs on a common chain, then the group moved on at a command from the Warden at the head of the line.
In the showers and during classes afterward Cathy looked for Paula. There was so much to talk about; Cathy hoped they would be assigned to the same cell tonight, so they would have some time to talk. She felt sure she would be going home soon, and she wanted to tell her friend all about it. But she didn't see Paula at all, and that evening she was put in with three others she had never met before. Cathy was disappointed, and did ask her cellmates if they had seen Paula, but none of them knew who she was.
The next day was back to normal: eat, shower, classes, inspections, but still no sign of Paula. Cathy hadn't seen her all day, and neither had any of the other women. Cathy was concerned, what had happened to her? Had she broken a rule? Was she being punished somewhere else, isolated from her friends? Cathy knew it was forbidden to ask a Warden or a teacher, it was even risky to ask the other women. No one seemed to know what had happened.
Several days passed, always following the same routine. Every day Cathy looked for her friend, asked about her, and every day the same answer, no one had seen her. The days and evenings seemed to be so long and empty without those conversations with Paula. Cathy had no one to talk to, no one to share her thoughts, no helpful advice about the day's lessons. And she especially missed her master. As wonderful as his visit was, he had not yet returned, and her desire for him was as strong as ever. More than once her hand had again found its way between her legs, and more than once it had been stopped by that frustrating steel plate covering her.
Day after day the loss of her friend and her own needs built up within her. The constant confinement, the lack of privacy, the Wardens always watching her, her missing master, all combined to make Cathy edgy, sullen and irritable. She wasn’t speaking to the other women, and she obeyed orders reluctantly and with little enthusiasm. Matters came to a head during an afternoon class.
Cathy had been depressed all day. Her one friend was gone, her master had abandoned her, and she felt cut off, lost, no hope of ever escaping the misery of this place. She had forced herself to go through the motions yet one more day, and now she was in an afternoon class, listening to the teacher, Sarah again, lecturing on how to kneel at a master's side. Cathy was only half listening to Sarah, more concerned with her own problems.
"Cathy, come to the front and demonstrate the position we just went over.” The words from the teacher caught her by surprise. Cathy hesitantly stood up and walked to the front of the classroom. She looked at Sarah, unsure what to do next.
"Well? Show us how to kneel next to your master's chair," came the teacher's impatient order. Sarah took her pointer stick and tapped the floor in front of Cathy. Furiously trying to remember what the lesson had been about, Cathy knelt, legs wide, sitting on her heels, back straight, hands on her thighs.
"Very nice Cathy...if you were submitting yourself to your master's use. But this lesson was about how you behave when your master has guests. Perhaps if you paid more attention and learned the lesson you would do better and not embarrass your master in the process.” Sarah continued to berate Cathy, touching her with the pointer to emphasize her mistake. "Knees together, remember you most likely will be wearing a dress. And legs to one side, lean against his chair."
Cathy knelt there, humiliated in front of the class. Sarah continued to correct her; Cathy seemed unable to get it right. "Come on Cathy, concentrate on what you are doing. Your master will never come for you as long as you do so poorly.” Sarah crouched down in front of Cathy, the pointer in Sarah's hand touching Cathy's leg.
That comment pushed Cathy over the edge. All her anger and frustration boiled over. Cathy reached out and slapped Sarah’s pointer away with her hand. "Don't tell me what to do. You are not my master. He will come for me and take me away from here, because he loves me," Cathy shouted. The classroom fell silent, no one spoke or moved. Sarah backed away, a look of sadness on her face.. Instantly Cathy regretted what she had done, "Please Miss Sarah, forgive me, I didn't mean to strike you. Please, tell me what to do."
Sarah shook her head. "I'm sorry Cathy, but there isn't anything I can do for you now. Stay where you are, don't move or speak, and when they come for you, don't even try to resist. Class, you are all to remain where you are, don't move, no talking, face front, until I tell you otherwise. Sarah then knelt down, some distance from Cathy, quietly waiting. Cathy looked around, at the class, unsure just what Sarah had meant, then froze when she saw the frightened look on Sarah's face.
Cathy heard a noise behind her, to one side. The teacher's door opened and four large, heavyset Wardens came in, swiftly moving to surround Cathy. She knelt, not daring to move, too scared to even breathe. The Wardens on either side of her grabbed her arms and forced her down onto the floor, pulling her arms behind her back. The guard behind her was locking large heavy cuffs around her ankles, with a steel bar rather than chain linking them. One of the two guards at her side was closing a matching pair of handcuffs around her wrists. The Warden in front of her knelt down, lifted up her head and admonished her, "If you talk you get a gag. I advise you to keep quiet. The gag is very unpleasant and you will be forced to wear it for some time. Do exactly as I say. Any resistance will only increase your punishment.” Cathy looked up at him, saw the glint of determination in his eyes, and all the fight went out of her.
The Warden on her other side took out a wide padded leather strap and covered her eyes, fastening the blindfold behind her head with a buckle. Hands grasped her arms and pulled her up to a standing position. Someone pulled the ends of a chain, connected to the handcuffs behind her back, around her waist and locked them in front. Her wrists were pulled close against the small of her back. The bar cuffs around her ankles had a swivel where the bar joined the cuff, allowing her some movement for short, hobbled steps. The Wardens turned her around, and began to march her forward, she guessed toward the door they had come in. The guards forcefully pulled on her, keeping her off balance, unable to keep her feet under her because of the bar between her ankles. She would have fallen several times except for the hands holding her arms. They didn’t let up, virtually dragging her from the classroom.
They went through the door, paused while one Warden locked it behind them before they headed down the hallway. Unable to see, Cathy had no idea where she was being taken. They stopped several times to pass through some kind of door or gate, she wasn't sure. Finally she heard one heavy metal door close behind her, and then a Warden removed her blindfold.
Pay the Price
Cathy blinked at the light, letting her eyes adjust before she looked around. She was in a round room, a Warden seated at a circular desk in the center. Around the wall were several small brightly lit cells, some occupied. The Warden at the desk pointed to one empty cell, and her guards led her toward the open cell door. Inside she could see what looked like a high backed chair, facing a mirror. One guard led her to the chair, "Sit" he ordered. She sat down, leaning forward because of the handcuffs behind her back. Two of her escorts held her in the chair, hands on her shoulders, while another removed the cuffs around her ankles.
After he removed the ankle cuffs he placed her ankles in heavy padded steel shackles built into the legs of the chair. Then he unlocked the chain around her waist. The two Wardens at her side pushed her forward, while one reached down and released her wrists, pulling the handcuffs and waist chain off her. Both Wardens at her sides immediately grabbed her wrists and arms and forced them into padded metal shackles on the chair arms. Once her wrists and ankles were secure they continued with several leather straps across her legs, arms, and body, fastening her tightly into the chair. There was something odd about the straps. On the inside what looked like metal plates were touching her skin. More ominous were the wires running from the straps to a box in the base of the chair.
They finished by gagging her. It was an impressive piece of apparatus: a wide panel across her lower face, straps around and over her head, and what tasted like a foam rubber insert stuck in her mouth. A final strap went across her forehead, pulling her head back against the chair. Cathy knew serious preparations like these foretold an extremely unpleasant experience as about to commence.
Her original escorts left the cell, and the Warden at the desk entered, standing in front of her. "This is how it works. See those two lights at the bottom of your chair? The green one corresponds to the button under your right hand; the red one on your left. When the light comes on you push the matching button. You hold down the button until the light goes out. Any deviation from those instructions will be punished. You stop only when I tell you.” With those words he turned and left the cell, locking it behind him. Looking down she saw the lights reflected in the mirror.
Cathy sat there, unable to move a muscle, not even able to turn her head. The mirror in front of her showed the extensive restraints holding her, and the Warden in the background, staring at her. She recalled Paula's words when she had first arrived, "discourage improper behavior.” Now Cathy would find out for herself what Paula had meant.
Cathy stared at her reflection in the mirror, strapped into the chair, unable to even turn her head to the side. She pulled against the straps, trying to slip a hand or ankle free, but she was held too well, no escape would be possible. She shifted her weight, trying to move the chair, but it was securely bolted to the floor. As she struggled, testing her bonds, she could see the Warden watching her, expressionless, sitting at the desk.
She gave up trying to free herself, and sat there quietly. How long would they make her sit in the chair, and what would happen after that? Since she had to sit anyway, she closed her eyes, trying to relax and make the best of her situation. Her mind wandered, times with her friends, her master, her time in this school turned prison. For the first time she truly regretted not only running away from her master but also not accepting his decision about that party in the first place. If she had only trusted him, waited for him to explain why she couldn't go to that party...she wouldn't be here.
The red light lit up. She pushed down on the button under her left hand. It had a stiff feel to it. She waited until the light went out. The green one came on next, followed by two more with the red. There has to be more to it than this, she thought. The lights were like some simple child’s game. There didn’t seem to be any pattern to which light came on next, or how long it remained on. There didn’t seem to be any point to pushing buttons but she continued under the assumption they’d find something worse if she didn’t obey.
After two hours and no respite in the lights the game was starting to wear her down. It was boring, the chair was uncomfortable, she was tired and the gag was driving her crazy. Right after the green light went out she closed her eyes for a moment to give them a rest.
The sharp jab in her thigh felt like a hot poker. Her eyes flew open, in time to see the red light on. She slammed her hand down on the button until it went out. Electric shock, she realized after a moment. It had been a mild one but still painful. That explained the wires on the chair straps.
It wasn’t a simple game any longer. The stakes were higher now. No wonder she had that gag stuck in her mouth. It wasn’t to prevent her talking; it was to spare the guard watching her painful screams if she missed another light. Her initial boredom was replaced by grim determination not to close her eyes.
The ordeal went on and on, without even a few minutes rest. She could see the silhouette of the guard in the mirror. Because of the lighting it was difficult to determine if he was actually watching her. Cathy wanted to cry out for help, to somehow beg him to make it stop. The gag frustrated her efforts, muffling her pleas into meaningless garble.
The green light flashed on. Exhausted and disoriented Cathy accidently hit the wrong button. This time the sharp pain was in her back. It felt like she’d been stabbed with a knife. She screamed in agony, though the Warden showed no reaction.
Her world shrunk to the two lights. She battled sleep, fighting to keep her eyes open. Her hands were tired to the point muscles were near to cramping. Still she battled on, desperate to stave off the chair’s punishment for failure.
At some point the lights stopped. She kept both hands poised on the buttons, waiting for them to start again. I have to keep going, she told herself. Suddenly the guard was standing in front of her.
“You’ve earned a rest,” he told her. He reached behind her head and loosened the straps on the gag, pulling it out of her dry mouth. “Here, take a sip of water.” Eagerly she took the straw into her mouth and sucked on cold water. “Not too much,” he warned, pulling it away.
“Please, sir. I’ve learned my lesson. I swear I’ll never misbehave again. I…I can’t take any more of this.” Her voice broke. All she wanted to do was escape those lights, close her eyes and sleep.
“You have permission to sleep.” He slipped a cloth bag over her head, blinding her.
“Thank you, sir.” That was all she got out before falling into a deep sleep, despite being strapped into the chair.
When she woke and opened her eyes once again she saw the same image of herself, bound to the chair. A different Warden was at the desk, but he was staring at her, watching her like the other one. Again she pulled at the straps, desperate to get away from that constant stare. But there was no escape, all she could do was sit there and wait. She could not bear to look directly at his reflection, but she could not turn away.
What seemed like hours passed. No one walked by, the room was very quiet; no sounds reached her apart from her own breathing. At least she wasn’t being subjected to those lights. And always there was the Warden, watching her. Once again she shut her eyes, trying to block out that stare and the prospect of the lights starting again. This time sleep did not come. Instead she lived over and over the incident that had brought about her punishment. If only she had paid attention, if only she hadn't been distracted. If only her master had visited her again, she wouldn't have felt so lost...and then she realized, if she had trusted her master, accepted that he would come for her eventually, she wouldn't be in this chair now. For the second time, her own failure to trust her master's actions had only worsened her own situation.
She sat there pondering her actions to date, good and bad, and what had come of them. In retrospect, if she had followed the simple path, allowed her master to do his job, she wouldn't be in this punishment cell, or even in this training school. Instead she would be in her small studio, working on her next painting, waiting for him to come home from work. She smiled, thinking of how incredibly foolish she had been to ever risk losing an idyllic life like that.
She wasn't sure how long she had been in the chair, there was no way to mark the time, and she didn't want to open her eyes and see that Warden's cold stare looking back at her. At any moment he could turn on those hellish lights again. Cathy sat there calmly, resigned to her punishment, knowing she had earned it by her own misdeeds but at the same time praying the Warden wouldn’t take notice of her. Time passed, she drifted, waiting. Eventually they would come and release her, but until then all she could do was sit, think, and hope.
Time had blurred. She might have been there a few hours or several days, she no longer had any idea. The boredom was the worst, except for the alternative. At times a woman would come in and give her some food and water, feeding her by hand. At other times someone would come in and clean her off with a bucket of warm water. No one would speak to her, not a single word. More and more she sought refuge in sleeping, or at least daydreams, anything to help her escape the confines of the chair.
Failure
Cathy wasn't sure who it was, but she suddenly felt another presence, close to her. At first she was afraid to open her eyes, knowing the Warden would be there, observing, watching her every move. But, somehow she knew it was not the Warden standing near her. She could sense someone standing over her, behind her, somehow familiar. She opened her eyes, looked into the mirror, and caught her breath, her master's reflection clearly visible. She started to speak, but the word "master" died in her throat when she saw the look in his eyes and on his face. It was the look she had prayed she would never see again: anger and disappointment.
"I know what happened, Cathy, everything. I had hoped to take you home today; instead I find you here. You were doing so well, and then this. I am disappointed that you could not do better. I know the potential is within you, and I hope you will improve in the future.” And with those words he turned away and walked out of the small cell, leaving her behind.
The tears flowed freely from Cathy's eyes. She was crushed, she had failed her master and thrown away her chance for release from the Center. She watched his receding back as he walked away, desperate to call out to him, but knowing she had nothing to say. He was right; it seemed he was always right, she had failed the one person whose approval meant the world to her. At that moment, she resolved she would never again doubt him. She had freely chosen him as her master; she had given herself to him totally, without reservations or limits. She had trusted him to decide for her, guide her path in life. But now she realized it had not been quite the full commitment she had thought it was. She had held back, second guessed him, but no longer.
There was no question now, she would accept him as a master should be, complete and total. If she had doubts or questions, she would tell him, as he always insisted on, but whatever the outcome she would follow his wishes. She would do her best, show him that she could learn. No matter how long, if it was his desire, here she would stay, until he decided to come for her.
Cathy kept her eyes closed, even as she cried from the pain inflicted by her master's harsh words. A few sobs crept out, but she willed herself not to make a sound. She did not have permission. No more improper behavior, she had been well and truly discouraged. Now she understood why Paula had never disobeyed, never broken a single rule. It wasn’t the fear of some physical punishment. That would have been relatively easy to take, especially when she wasn’t given a choice. Far worse was to be left alone day after day, isolated, and her master’s disappointment weighing on her mind.
She opened her eyes, looking straight ahead. The picture was the same, her body trapped in the chair, and the ever-present Warden watching her. Her master was gone, she was alone again. She stared straight ahead, directly into her reflection. She had no idea how much longer she would have to sit there, but however long it was, she would wait, with a new determination to succeed.
At some point she fell asleep again, because she awoke with a start when she felt the Warden's hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, at his reflection in the mirror since she couldn't move her head to look directly at him. "Your time here is over Cathy, for the moment. But remember, the chair, and worse, is always here.” The Warden moved in front of her, began to undo the straps holding her. When he finished, he stood back, and nodded for her to stand up.
Crisis
At first it was agony, her muscles were stiff and sore at the prolonged immobility. She staggered, nearly falling as she tried to stand on her weakened legs. She caught herself on the arm of the chair, waited a moment to recover, and then shakily stood up. She could see the marks all over her body where the straps had held her. She looked at the Warden, uncertain what to do next.
"Stand still for a minute, take your time, then move around a bit," he told her. "When you have recovered, you will be taken to the showers, then to a dormitory cell where you can sleep in better conditions. You are not allowed to discuss what has happened here or the incident in the classroom with anyone, except of course your master. If you break that rule you will be immediately returned here. You do not want that to happen."
Cathy waited for a few moments before she tried walking around. Her steps were unsteady at first but she recovered rapidly. It seemed that every muscle in her body was complaining, but not quite as loudly as when she first tried. The Warden stood close by, to catch her if she started to fall, but allowing her to work out the stiffness herself. She walked around some more, sat for a moment to rest, then stood and nodded to the Warden, "Sir, I am able to walk now."
He took hold of her arm and led her out of the cell toward the desk. Another Warden was waiting there, out of sight from within the cell. The first Warden took her over to him. "Extend your arms in front of you, wrists slightly apart," the new Warden ordered. Cathy held out her arms toward him while he produced a set of handcuffs and locked her wrists together. He took hold of her upper arm in a firm grasp and led her to the exit door. As Cathy and her guard approached it opened from the outside, a third Warden watching when they left the punishment room.
He took her to the showers first, where she indulged in a long hot shower, which did wonders for her sore body. Afterward the Warden took her to an empty sleeping cell, with bedding and a meal already inside. After the Warden left her alone she devoured the meal, not realizing how hungry she was. She placed the empty meal carton next to the door, in a corner, and then turned to her bed. As she lay on the pad, the thin blanket barely covering her, her thoughts turned again to her Master, as they always did at bedtime, and once again her hand met the impenetrable metal shield covering her. A slight smile, she would have to wait. It would be for her master to decide when she would be freed from her own personal prison. She fell asleep, with renewed determination that she would be the best she could be, for herself and for her master.
Cathy had fallen asleep immediately after eating, exhausted from her punishment and emotionally drained by her master's words. She woke in the morning, but it seemed to be early as she didn't hear any activity from the corridor, and no Warden came by. She lay on her bed, glad for the time alone to rest and gather her thoughts. She thought about the pressures, the stress that had brought her to strike the teacher.
She had felt so lost. Her friend Paula was gone, no one knew where, and it seemed her master had forgotten about her. Yet, he had appeared so quickly after she had been taken to the punishment room, surely within hours. If he had truly been ignoring her, how, why had he gotten here so fast? Then she realized, he was already on his way here, to visit her, maybe even take her home. Once again she had doubted him, and yet once again she had made a mistake. And his words, "disappointed", she could not remember the last time he had ever said that to her, before she had been sent here.
She heard movement farther down the corridor, the bedding cart. Cathy quickly folded her blanket and placed her sleeping pad and bedding next to the door. She moved into the daily routine once again, kneeling as she had been taught, waiting for the bedding cart and meal carts. After her meal was delivered, she ate thoughtfully. Everything she had done contrary to her nature had caused a problem for her. It started with running away, and now culminated in physical violence. She didn't want to be like that. She loved being submissive to her Master, following him while he guided her, set her boundaries, having him take on the responsibilities that so distracted and worried her. And he asked so little of her in return. She had a nearly ideal life, virtually all she could want, and she was throwing it away.
Cathy knew if she really insisted, demanded to be freed, the Wardens would comply, at least with the point of contacting her master. She had not asked for it, because deep within she knew she still wanted to belong to her master, to be owned and controlled by him, and if he wanted to place her in this Center, a virtual prison, then so be it. It was time to stop playing. Either she accepted him totally, or she walked away from her life with him. She had pushed him to the edge; she risked losing him, the one person she wanted to please, the one person whose approval she needed.
The Warden was at her door, gathering the women for the day's classes. At his order she rose, approached the door, and joined the group under the Warden's supervision. Walking down the hallway with the others, she resolved to do her best from now on, no more doubts; her master's presence would always be with her, as it had always been before now, even if she had never really thought of it that way. Her master had put her here to learn, and as Cathy smiled ruefully, she had indeed learned her lesson.
The day went normally, no one mentioned her incident. Some of the other women had looked at her oddly, but not one asked. For Cathy that was just as well, because she remembered all too well the Warden's admonition not to discuss it. Too, the uncertainty, a fear of the unknown, and her own unwillingness to discuss it would only serve to discourage the other women from copying her own inappropriate behavior. That evening she was placed in a cell with three others she knew slightly. All three of them had looked at her, asked if she was feeling alright, but skirted the real question. Cathy had smiled, thanked them for their concern, and made some small talk about the day's class. The others had taken the hint, and dropped the carefully veiled questions as to what had happened.
The days became weeks, and Cathy again lost any track of time. She allowed herself to be absorbed into the routine. She was always attentive in class, and worked hard to understand the lessons, and how they would apply to her when her Master finally came for her. And she had no doubts now, one day he would come. She dreamed of that day, when a Warden would come for her, and then take her to her Master, and then they would leave together. But until then, she would wait, because he would decide when she was ready.
Over the next few weeks, several women seemed to leave, as the classes were getting smaller. Cathy would often find herself with only one or two other women in a sleeping cell. One night Cathy found herself sharing a cell with only one other, a woman she had only seen a few times. Tonight the new woman, she had said her name was Alicia, was very quiet, sitting in a corner by herself. Cathy had tried to start a conversation, but Alicia had said very little, so Cathy left her alone, thinking she wanted some privacy. After the bedding came, they settled down for the night, but after a few minutes, before Cathy had fallen asleep, Alicia spoke to her. "Cathy, I think something is wrong. I feel so sick I can hardly move. Please, call a Warden, I need help, please."
Cathy sat up. It was a serious violation to speak after lights out. If Alicia broke that rule deliberately, something must really be wrong. She got up and went over to Alicia. At a glance she didn't seem to be that sick, her skin didn't feel too hot or clammy, but Cathy could feel slight tremors as Alicia shook beneath her blanket. Up to now Cathy had never seen anyone get sick in the Center, so she didn't know what the approved procedures were. But Alicia did appear to be sick, so Cathy went to the cell door and looked to see if a Warden was close by making rounds. She didn't see anyone in the corridor. Looking back at Alicia, Cathy could see her shivering. She got her own blanket, laid it over Alicia, and then went back to the cell door. She hesitated, but the situation was so serious that she called out, "Sir? Is anyone there? Sir, a woman here is very sick and needs attention. Please, Sir, I think it may be an emergency.” If they really did monitor everyone with cameras and microphones then her calls would surely attract some attention, even if it was late at night.
After a moment she heard the by now familiar sound of a barred gate open and footsteps heading her way. Cathy stepped back from the door, kneeling close to Alicia. "Relax, hon, someone is coming. They’ll take care of you.” Cathy reassured her.
A Warden stopped at the door. "What's going on here?"
"Sir, this woman, Alicia, seems to be seriously ill. I’m worried about her. She was complaining earlier, now she is shivering.” Cathy looked from Alicia to the Warden, waiting for him to decide what to do. The Warden took a set of keys out of his pocket, selected one, and unlocked the door. He knelt to the other side of Alicia, opposite Cathy, and made a quick examination of Alicia, taking her pulse, feeling her forehead for fever.
"Okay, this does require attention. C'mon Alicia, try to stand up and I'll take you to the infirmary. We have a doctor here, I'll wake him and he can treat you.” The Warden put an arm under Alicia and helped her to stand up. Alicia didn't say anything but did stand shakily and walked out the door with the Warden holding her. Stopping outside the door, the Warden closed it behind him and locked it. Just as he removed the key Alicia started shaking violently and collapsed against him. Caught off balance the Warden staggered and fell to the floor, but managed to hold onto Alicia and break her fall so she wouldn't injure herself. Alicia continued to shake and thrash about violently, but the Warden was able to hold her down. In a moment Alicia had stopped, just as another Warden arrived with a medical gurney. As Cathy watched, the two men loaded Alicia onto the gurney, strapped her down, and quickly wheeled her off to the infirmary.
Temptation
The lights were still dimmed, and Cathy knew she should return to bed, but she was worried about Alicia. She went to the door, trying to catch a glimpse of Alicia as the Wardens took her away. She could hear them moving quickly down the corridor, but could see nothing. As she turned away, her eye was caught by a gleam on the floor. It was a ring of keys, close to the bars of her cell.
Immediately she knew what had happened. Just as the Warden was putting the keys back in his pocket, Alicia had gone into her convulsions. As the Warden fell, holding Alicia, the keys had fallen out of his pocket. And the other Warden had been unlocking the gates; they might not miss this set of keys for several hours. Bending down, she reached out through the bars and picked them up. Looking closely at each key in the dim light, she could make out the labels: "SLEEP," "GATES," "SHOWERS," "EXIT," "ELEVATOR," and "VAN.” She stopped at the last ones. This was a complete set; she could open her cell door, make her way to the elevator, and escape in a van parked at the entrance. It was night, there were only a handful of Wardens awake, and at least two of them were occupied. After all these weeks, even months of captivity, she held in her hand the means to leave it behind. She selected the key labeled "SLEEP," then reached back through the cell bars and inserted it into the door lock. The key went in easily, it was the right one. She started to turn the key, to open her door to freedom...
… and stopped. She couldn't do it. Not like that. Cathy felt her master's presence, looking at her, waiting for her to choose. She pulled the key out of the still-locked cell door, gazed at the ring of keys wistfully, and then tossed them out the bars to the far side of the hallway, out of reach. She turned and went back to her bed. It was lights out; she was supposed to be asleep. The rules did not allow her into the corridors without a Warden as escort, and she was certain she wasn't permitted a set of keys. Falling asleep, she smiled in satisfaction. She would continue on her chosen path, and wait for her master.
About fifteen minutes later the first Warden returned, picked up his set of keys in the hallway, looked over at Cathy sleeping in her cell, nodded in approval, and continued on his way. His woman Alicia was a superb actress; even he had been halfway convinced she was having some type of seizure. Alicia was back in their quarters now, sleeping. He had stopped in the surveillance room for a few minutes, to review the tape of Cathy with the keys, and then continued on his rounds. Cathy's master would be pleased when he saw that tape. And he would collect that five dollar bet from Joe, the other Warden who had helped tonight. Joe had been sure she would at least open the cell door.
The next morning Cathy awoke to the usual routine. When the Warden came to collect her, she started to ask about Alicia then thought better of it. The Warden noticed her slight hesitation, smiled, and told her, "Alicia is okay, Cathy. She had a quiet night and won't be returning here today. She’ll be well cared for."
"Yes, Sir, thank you for telling me," Cathy replied as she took her place in line. The day proceeded normally; the incident with the keys was never mentioned by anyone. That night Cathy was back in with several women she had known for some time. Cathy and the others talked about the day until lights out, when they all went to bed.
Cathy did not see Alicia again, and assumed she had been released to her master for medical reasons. She had worried it might be something contagious, but no one else got sick. She had seen the Warden from that night a few times since, once he had looked at her oddly, but he had never mentioned the keys in the hallway, or how they had gotten to the far wall. Since he still made rounds at night, she assumed he had not gotten into trouble over the keys, or no one had known they were missing. Just as well, he was a decent guy and she didn't want to see him get into trouble.
The daily routine continued for a few more days, until one morning after showering, while the group Cathy was in was headed down a hallway to their assigned classroom, the Warden in charge suddenly stopped them. Another Warden came through the door, spoke to the supervisor for a moment, then came back to where Cathy was standing. The Warden unlocked her wrists from the group chain, handcuffed her hands behind her back, took hold of her upper arm, and led her away from the group. Cathy glanced back, saw them continue on, and then turned back to her guard. What was happening? Had they finally discovered the incident with the keys? Was she being taken to the punishment room again? She almost spoke, to plead for leniency, but she knew better.
They continued on for a while before he stopped at a barred door. He unlocked the door, freed her wrists, and then pushed her inside, closing the door behind her. She looked around, suddenly realizing where she was when she saw the sign on the wall, "SECURED AREA," and the rules underneath. There was the small table, and the other door, the one to the elevator. This was the lower entrance.
Aftermath
On the table a set of clothing was waiting for her, including underwear and shoes. Next to it was the familiar box that had held the chastity belt she had worn since the day she arrived, and which she still wore. Sitting by the box was a simple necklace, with two keys on it. Cathy recognized them immediately, the keys to her belt and the collar around her neck. On top of the clothing was a short note in her master's handwriting, "Your time here is over. I will arrive shortly to take you home. You may dress while waiting for me.” Cathy looked at the note, read it over and over, tears in her eyes, relieved her long ordeal was finally over and she would be with her master once again. She set the note down and reached for the keys to that belt that had caused her so much frustration and misery.
Cathy smoothed her skirt one last time as she heard the entrance door unlock. It had been such a long time. She wanted to look her very best for her Master. The door opened, and there he was. She ran to him, put her arms around him, and felt his muscular arms encircle her once more. She laid her head against his chest, feeling again his sure strength holding her, surrounding her. He held her for a long moment, bent down and kissed her, then held her out at arm's length, "Let me look at you.” Cathy stood with her head down, sensing his gaze on her.
"Well, I think you are more than ready to leave, shall we go?" he asked her. He walked over to the table and picked up the box off the table. It felt very light so he looked inside, and saw only an empty box.
"Master? I believe these keys belong to you," Cathy said, placing the long necklace chain with the keys around his neck. "But please, master, don't lose them,” she smiled back at him. He reached for her, slid a hand around her waist, and felt the hard steel band of the belt underneath her skirt. Looking close, he could just see the steel still circling her throat, under the high collar of her blouse. He looked a question at her. "Master, it is for you to decide what I will wear for you, and for how long. I want you to hold the keys."
He looked at her for a moment, one hand holding the keys hanging around his neck. Then he picked up the empty box in one hand, took Cathy's hand in the other, and led her into the elevator. At the top, the elevator door opened, and the guard looked in to make sure Cathy and her master were the only two passengers. He unlocked the gate, nodded to them, and resumed his seat by the door. The two of them walked out the front door, to her master's waiting car in the driveway.
"I have a surprise for you Cathy. We aren't going straight home. A friend has loaned me his beach house on Coronado Island, in San Diego. We will be spending a few days there first."
"Oh master! That's wonderful. It is so pretty there. And we have so much to talk about, so much I want to say. And do, if you might consider using that key around your neck," she winked at her master.
Her master roared with laughter. "Yes I would imagine you are very interested in the disposition of this particular key. By the way, I invited some guests to meet us there. I don't think you ever met Big Mike, interesting story, he's a mining engineer, and was held hostage by Bolivian Indians for about a year. An old friend of mine, he just got back to the States a few weeks ago. I think you do know his woman, her name is Paula."
Cathy sat back in the car seat, "Paula? You mean the Paula I met in ...” Her voice trailed off at the sight of the big smile on her master's face. "Oh master! You know all about her. Sir, I really did learn my lesson in there. No more doubts, I want to be your woman, I want you to be my master. I will never disappoint you again."
"Cathy, I believe you. I can see the difference. I love you, I want to be your master, to care for and protect you, to give you the space to grow in your own way. It hurt me, more than you can know, to have sent you to that place, but I knew it would save our relationship."
"It was a terrible place master, but it also works. Free from distractions, forced to focus on what's important, I came to realize, and accept, what I am and what I want. I hope I never have to go back there, but if you believe it is in my best interest, I will go willingly.” She leaned across the car seat, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and then settled back as they drove through the desert.
“Sir, I was wondering if you could answer just one question, about that place? I never figured out how the Wardens always seemed to know where they were going, but none of the hallways or doors are marked. I never did figure out how they managed it.” All during her stay Cathy had tried to spot some hidden signpost on the wall or pattern in the floor or ceiling, but never saw anything to mark particular locations.
“Funny you should ask, that’s an idea I suggested from some unrelated research I did for a customer years ago.” He started to explain. “There is a small radio transmitter in each wall and by many doors. As they walk by the location is whispered into a hearing aid type receiver in their ear. It’s very short range, only a few feet. They always know exactly where they are, and they can hear announcements over a private intercom too.” Cathy nodded, it made sense. She had been looking for some secret mark and had never noticed the receivers.
She relaxed and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of once again belonging to her master, the feelings of freedom and completeness in her submission to him. And she knew, with a certainty, the next time she heard the words your master requires your presence, she would be there, at his side, her place.