Betrayal Chapter 2: The New You

by AmyAmy

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© Copyright 2013 - AmyAmy - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF+/f; D/s; party; display; hum; bdsm; enslave; punish; torment; oral; sex; climax; denial; reluct/nc; XX

(story continues from )

Part Two

Chapter Six: The New You

“This is where the action is,” Lucas said.

I looked up at him adoringly and let my hand brush his crotch. I thought that might please him. He didn't seem to notice. He was very handsome, and for brief moments I could forget the circumstances and see him as I did before, but I needed to stop that. I knew that I needed to see him differently. He was so much more important to me, and his slightest whim could affect me profoundly. I could no longer think of him as 'just' a man.

Our destination was a large modern house of white concrete. It was brightly lit with spotlights in the grounds casting up onto the walls. Beyond the tall hedges of the perimeter, expansive flat lawns edged a long white concrete path to the entrance. The quiet thwipper-thwipper of sprinklers was barely audible over the sound of loud music and the cacophony of raised voices carrying from the house. I heard a distant splash and a squeal as Lucas 'helped' me from the taxi, his hand taking a firm grip on my wrist. He pulled me hobbling after him towards the front door and let himself in without knocking.

My little legs had to move at a furious rate to keep up with his stride, and the lethally tall heels made it impossible for me to take a longer step without tumbling. I was no stranger to high-heels, but these were four inches.

After my night in those boots I bestowed the title 'punishment heels' on anything taller than three inches. With my small feet, anything over two and a half, without the benefit of platforms, would inevitably be difficult. Platforms were old fashioned and already a bygone of the seventies, so they were out of the question.

With the three-inch heels on the sandals I could stand on the balls of my feet, but the boots forced me to put all my weight on my toes. On top of that they were made of impermeable plastic, which was hot and sweaty to wear in warm weather, and I would later learn – in quite different circumstances – that they provided no warmth or insulation in the cold.

Inside the house it was dimly lit and smoky. A room full of expensive, oppressively modern furnishings of cold chrome and smoked glass was hidden behind a crowd of people, all talking, drinking and smoking. People on the raised part of the split-level floor were dancing and there were flashing coloured spotlights.

At one end of the room was a fully stocked bar, staffed by tall young men in white bartender's uniforms. Smiling girls in 'Playboy' style bunny costumes moved through the crowd serving drinks from trays. I thought this was a little dated, but evidently the Australians like to adopt old American fashions and save them from the scrap heap.

Lucas led me through the crowd and through a succession of rooms, each filled with more people. The further we went, though the rooms became no less crowded, they did became more dimly lit, and the activities quieter and more difficult to identify. The smoke smelled of drugs, and people hid themselves in the shadows.

We passed by two burly doormen and emerged into the spacious garden at the back of the house. In front of us, illumination spilled dazzlingly from a huge swimming pool that was lit by underwater spotlights. Busty blonde girls were swimming naked in the pool. Big, ferocious looking Australian men were lounging around the sides, leaning against a railing or standing about in small groups. As elsewhere, they were drinking and smoking. Most of them had girls in attendance, who all gave the impression of being somehow pushed to the background. Most of the girls looked a lot like me, except they were Caucasians, I presumed Australian.

“Keep yourself within my sight, but not too close. Keep your eyes down and keep your stupid mouth shut. Nobody here wants to hear your horrible meowing. If you do have to speak, speak fucking English fergodsake,” Lucas said. Even then some people looked at him strangely when they overheard him mutter to me in Cantonese.

I nodded, “Yes sir.”

“In fucking English you thick cunt,” he snapped. He had confused me because he was still speaking Cantonese and didn't pull me up before.

“Very sorry sir,” I repeated in my awful, childish lisping English. I was terrified, and my voice was tiny like a mouse. I was pretty sure I had earned some punishment this time.

“Hmm, you need a name,” said Lucas. “Obviously, your old one won't do. If I ever hear you mention that name, even just to me in private, I'll shut you up for fucking good. That's not your name any longer so you better forget it,” he whispered to me in a snarl. He was still speaking Cantonese anyway, so I was pretty sure that nobody here would understand a word of it, but I suppose he didn't want to make a scene of his threatening me, it would be an embarrassment to him.

“Yes sir,” I squeaked, in English, which was probably about the limit of my vocabulary.

“From now on your name is Suki ... Sooo ... Keee,” he pronounced it again for me slowly. “Pretty close to 'suckee', which is about all you're good for,” he said, chuckling to himself.

I didn't get his private joke, but I wondered if the new name was part of the punishment. It didn't seem so bad, which made me nervous in another way, because I knew how cunning Lucas was, and if I didn't see how something hurt me immediately it meant that it would strike more deeply and with greater impact in the end.

I guess that for some people having their name taken away on a whim, might be pretty upsetting, but for whatever reason, it really didn't bother me. On the other hand, I was certain that my new name was probably a bimbo whore name, and any Australian person would know right away what sort of person it was attached to, but it was just a couple of random sounds to me. I just hoped it didn't mean something obviously rude like 'cunt' or 'slut' that would make me a continual laughing stock.

“Sookee, thank you sir,” I said in my awful English voice. Again and again I hated myself for not learning when I had so many chances, and everyone tried to help me. I was paying for my stubborn laziness again.

Hearing myself speak English was something I always hated, and it might have been the reason that I had so much trouble learning. I don't know why it was, but my voice was always thin and squeaky in English, and I always sounded like an infant or at best, an air-brained bimbo.

“Can you remember that Suki?” Said Lucas?

“Yes sir,” I said. “Soo-kee sir,” I added.

“Roll it together more,” he sighed.

After a few more attempts, Lucas was convinced that I could speak my new name to his particular satisfaction.

It was hard work, and I did my best, but he was not easy to please in this respect, and I knew he was already angry with me for saying a few words in the wrong language, which I never would have done if he hadn't tricked me. I wondered if he would ban me from speaking Cantonese forever to punish me, but he had something different in mind.

Chapter Seven: Party Mood

Lucas circulated through the party. I wasn’t allowed near him, but I had to keep myself where he could see me. Like the other girls, I was nothing more than background decoration. The conversations he had were in English and too far away for me to hear anyway. Apart from when I received leering glances, or they seemed to be laughing at me, I was completely excluded from the social process. Nevertheless, Lucas would glance at me from time to time, to make sure I knew I was being watched.

Much of the time, my mind was on my crude makeup and sluttish clothes. It was humiliating enough to be dragged around as a mute attachment to Lucas, but dressed as I was, and away from his side, I knew what everyone who glanced at me would see: a whore working the room… Some dumb Asian peasant too stupid to figure what she was signing up to when the nice men in sharp clothes, with their fancy foreign watches and gold jewellery offered to help her start a wonderful new life in the west ... or south. It hurt the most because I had been that stupid. Lucas had put out a line and reeled me in, and his barbed hooks were not easily removed.

During this circuit, I counted only three other Asian girls. They clearly weren't a highly desirable ornament in these circles. There were two together, who seemed nice, though I felt sorry for them. They were dressed in nothing but leather straps that barely covered their private parts and wore buckled on studded collars like dogs. Their clothes were so humiliating, and nobody else was dressed like that, so they really stood out.

Despite their situation, they smiled in a friendly way and said hello to me in an impenetrable Pidgin English almost as bad as my own. I ducked my head, mumbling an English hello and turned quickly away. I later learned that they were Koreans born in Japan but never allowed to become citizens – though they might as well have been from anywhere for all that meant to me – I couldn't even point out Korea on a map, though I knew there'd been a war there back before Vietnam and that the Australians were in it.

The third Asian girl was hanging off the arm of a bulky looking Asian man who terrified me. She didn't say hello, but instead she questioned me in a hard little demanding voice.

“You Chinese girl?” Was all I could decode through what I took to be some harsh mainland accent.

I shook my head and scuttled away, my boot heels clicking nervously on the tiles around the edge of the pool. I fought back tears. I was determined not to make any kind of fuss here. I knew the slightest infraction would be harshly punished, and I dare not imagine how.

I picked up the names of the man, Johnno, and the woman Monica, and while they were talking, a second man called Tate, tall, lean and mean looking, joined the group. Tate worried me too, because he had no girl with him, and he looked half Asian, half Caucasian, which in Hong Kong was usually a recipe for a mean bastard with a chip on his shoulder. I was relieved that Tate never even seemed to look at me. I didn’t realize at the time that Tate was as Australian as Lucas.

Self-consciously, I adjusted my slutty clothes, trying to get as much cover of my more private parts as they would allow. The whore's uniform wasn't helping my self-esteem much – not that self-esteem was a phrase I used or thought of in those times – but I could feel how the clothes were helping me get into this new character despite myself. It was worse than I had expected, not only did they shape the expectations of everyone who looked at me, they were shaping me as well. It was an insidious means of control because it worked on my unconscious and I had no way to rationalize or fight against it.

I tried not to make a habit of tugging down the hem of my glistening red plastic skirt, which barely hid the vee of my crotch at the best of times. If I pulled it down too far it showed my bum crack. If I was careless when I moved I would flash my private parts to everyone. I kept my legs squeezed together all the time because of that. The equally shiny red plastic corset-style top wasn't much better. It laced up the front, leaving a two inch gap from top to bottom that showed my belly button and the little gap between my smallish breasts. It didn't come quite high enough either, and I had to resist the urge to hitch it up all the time, continually afraid that a wrong move would pop my nipples out of the top. I felt, or imagined, lusting eyes ceaselessly watching for the moment when it would happen.

We continued our rounds, and almost everyone else seemed to ignore me unless it was some joke at my expense. At least this is what I assumed was happening when everyone suddenly stopped to stare at me and laugh. I took comfort in the idea that my thick makeup would conceal my blushes.

I say almost everyone, because there was one person, who was most unusual because she did notice me, and I felt it intensely. It was a woman who seemed very different from the others. She was tall, with long blonde hair, swept up in a harsh, tight arrangement that reminded me of pictures from the fifties. She wore a long, sleeveless white dress of pleated satin with little stringy shoulder straps. Her eyes were full of fire and her arms looked strong and muscled, not thin and ladylike.

There was something about her that unsettled me, something slippery and rich in her voice that made me think of the horrible things that scuttle into the darkness when you rip up a rotting wooden floor.

Even though she never spoke a word to me, and like everyone else chatted only to Lucas in English, I felt her gaze crawling over me, undressing me – not that there was much to take off – in the way a man's might if he were subtle. She seemed very friendly with Lucas and they were soon laughing together. There seemed something about the tone of their conversation that suggested that when they parted, it wasn't quite finished.

After a while, Lucas took me into a dark corner and began to critique my performance. He had downed a drink or two by this point and was in good spirits. He instructed me to smile more, and to be a little more flirtatious, as my hesitant behaviour was irritating him. Though this only increased my nervousness, I did my best to comply, struggling to think of things I could do that would be little sexy without attracting unwanted attentions.

I was still dreading some punishment for my earlier slip. Perhaps he would save it for when we returned home, in which case it would be something long and unpleasant. It was a sort of relief when he raised the matter.

“As I am in a party mood, your punishment for forgetting my instructions will be very lenient, but remember, it is still a punishment,” he said. “Why don’t you go and talk to your new Chinese friends? I noticed how well you got on with them earlier.”

As usual, Lucas had instantly fastened onto what I dreaded the most. I really didn't want a repeat encounter with them. Even though they weren’t from the same country, they were still familiar in a way that allowed me to appreciate just what sort of people they were, and they were not good people, not good people at all. With the Australians, I could never really be sure what sort of background or class they came from; I had to guess based on their clothes, which could be deceptive.

Chapter Eight: The Centre of Attention

Lucas took me by the arm and ushered me back over to the Chinese pair. She was hanging off him like a decoration, like a needy woman who doesn't trust her man not to ditch her if she ever lets go of him. Despite this, I could see she was a hard bitch. If she thought I was in her way I knew she would hurt me, probably in a simple physical way, but maybe in some more profound and subtle way. I expected she would want to show her superiority again, right away. I was ready for that, and I was happy to acquiesce to her. There was no question in my mind: I would cave into her as quickly and as absolutely as possible. Hopefully, after that she would be happy she had established my place, and leave me alone for a while.

Lucas was talking to the Asian man, 'Johnno', in English, explaining something that was very amusing to him. He was heavy-set, with bulging muscles. He was tall, by my standards, though not as big as Lucas. His leering stare suggested that he wanted me in a simple physical way. He wanted to have me, but he didn't hate me. I was an attractive object to him, not a potential threat.

I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of him touching me. I was afraid of it, and yet it was exciting too. I didn't understand why at the time. I reminded myself, that if Lucas told me to, I would give myself to him without reservation. I imagined him tying me up in Japanese ropes and raping every one of my orifices for days on end while his bitch watched and laughed. I imagined Lucas giving me to them dressed in chains. I never did figure out why the idea of ropes popped into my head.

I was snapped back to reality by Lucas jerking my arm and speaking quickly and quietly to me.

“I've explained to them that your English is very bad. I've asked them to give you a hand with a little English lesson, and I know you're very eager to learn. Monica will teach you phrases, and you can try them out on Johnno here. He'll judge how well you've done,” explained Lucas, as if this were all some hilarious joke.

“Yes sir,” I said.

“When you've learned all your lines properly, you can come do a little performance for Johnno and Tate to see how well you remember without prompting. Do you think you can manage that without making a fucking mess of it like a stupid cunt?” He asked with a sneer.

“Yes sir,” I said, of course, though I wasn't so sure that I could.

Lucas adjusted his pitch-black sunglasses, then moved off to the pool side and settled into a seat. A bunny girl sidled up to offer him drinks. Meanwhile I was left with Johnno and Monica.

“Ok. I say something then you say it back,” Monica said, in English. I didn't really understand, but I had my instructions already from Lucas.

I assumed that they would make me repeat some dreadful humiliating slut-talk. Had I been aware of the foul racist stereotypes they had to draw on I might have made a better guess at what they intended. There was nothing I could do about it except make worse troubles for myself, so I decided I would try my best and let them enjoy it at my expense. Nobody here was going to think any different of me anyway, no matter what I did, so I might as well fulfil their expectations.

Monica provided my lines.

“My name Suki. I suckee suckee for you leal good,” she said.

She mangled the pronunciation for me deliberately. I would learn soon enough that Monica spoke perfect English, in fact she had grown up in London, and English was her preferred language. Her Cantonese had a London accent, which was a bit strange, and had confused me at first.

Monica knew the slurs that the Australians used, she knew them well and had suffered them often. On that day she vented her anger and at me, making me into a ridiculous parody of an East-Asian whore with only whore's baby talk. It was as if she could get me to carry the burden of all the suffering that had been heaped onto her because her skin was the wrong colour.

I repeated what she said. She wasn't happy and made me do it again, and again. It was a blow. I couldn't even say whatever horrible thing it was about myself that she wanted. Eventually she was satisfied with my repetition and she moved onto the next phrase.

“Two dorrah suckee suckee, five dorrah fuckee fuckee,” she said.

Again, she drilled me until I could repeat to her satisfaction.

“Ten dorrah, me love you long time, one guy, one, two, three hole,” she made me say.

“For you two guy toogedder, two hole, me do you for flee, on the house,” was the last line she taught me. It was a lot of nonsense to learn by heart in a hurry. I doubted I could remember it all, but Monica was smart, she made me go through them all from the top, over and over, until my head was spinning.

When I got it wrong she would snarl and stamp her foot, grab my nipple and twist it hard, but I didn't squeal. Then she would laugh at me, and make me start again. It never occurred to me to try and stop her doing that: she was in charge. We were hidden in a corner, with Johnno concealing us from everyone else. Nobody noticed what we were doing.

Then she made me try it with Johnno and Tate. When I'd done my little performance, they looked at each other and exchanged some words in English, I have no idea what. Tate didn’t look entirely happy. I felt that he had taken a dislike to me.

The tall woman who had made me nervous earlier had been chatting with Lucas. When she saw me busy with Johnno and Tate she drifted over, catching the end of my rehearsal.

“How delightful… Let me hear you do it once more, this time with feeling,” she said with a sinister grin. “I'll translate it for you after I've heard it.”

I should have known that Lucas wouldn't make it easy for me. He must have sent her to do this. When I had no idea what I was saying it wasn't so bad, but he wanted to make sure I'd know. At least I wouldn't learn what it was until afterwards. There were people watching but I concentrated on remembering my lines. It was important to get them right. It didn't matter what I was saying. Lucas could make me say anything he wanted, so there was no point dwelling on it.

So I began, addressing my performance to Johnno and Tate again, with the woman standing by.

“Me name Suki. I suckee suckee for you leal good.”

Johnno smirked, some people nearby turned to watch. Tate stared at me like he'd been served up a turd for dinner.

“I am Suki, a stupid whore who talks like a mental defective, whose speciality is cock sucking,” the woman translated quietly.

“Two dollar suckee suckee, five dollar fuckee fuckee,” I said. I congratulated myself on getting half way. I gave a big smile. I knew Lucas would like that. I knew he was watching, even if he wasn’t close.

Johnno gave me a wink I did not like. Tate looked like he was ready to punch someone. The number of onlookers was growing as people realised something was happening. Some people were already laughing, others looked annoyed.

“I suck cock for two dollars, but you can also fuck me for five,” the woman whispered in my ear.

“Ten ... dollar, me love you long time, one guy, one, two three hole,” I said, still keeping up that shit eating smile.

“For ten dollars you can fuck my mouth, ass and cunt,” she hissed.

Some people were still struggling to figure out what I was on about, but the ones that had caught up were either laughing or turning away in disgust. The worst was the girls who looked at me sympathetically. I didn't need their pity. If they couldn't get me out of this, how dare they remind me that I was human? I would rather hear the voice of Lucas laughing at me and promising me pain if I hesitated.

“For you two guy tsu-ged-ar, two hole, me do you for flee, on the house,” I pronounced my finale.

“But I am such a slut that I will let you two guys fuck me together for free, one in my cunt, the other in my mouth or ass,” the evil voice whispered in my ear.

I just knew where that was headed.

Johnno was making some lewd gestures, but Tate said something angrily to the woman. The bystanders were splitting into clear factions. One group found the whole thing hilarious and intended to watch any further developments intently, a larger group found the whole thing sickening and had moved away, and the third and smallest group seemed intent on having a fight with someone over something, and this might just be the excuse they were looking for. I was afraid, and not over the possibility of being forced to follow through on my ‘offer’, but of being lynched by an angry mob.

Lucas appeared out of nowhere, made a quick gesture to Johnno, then picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. In a flash we were across the gardens and hurrying down some steps, with Monica and Tate following behind. It was done so quickly that the crowd didn't really see where we'd gone and the few stragglers that did soon turned back after Johnno shouted something back up the stairs at them.

The staircase was cut into the rocks, and there was no railing. I squealed when I saw the drop, but Lucas ignored it and kept hurrying down the stairs. I was rigid with fright by the time we arrived at the bottom, where the stairs melted into a small beach cove. At high tide it might be completely isolated, but we could probably get away from the house if we wanted.

Lucas and Johnno continued laughing, but Tate was still angry about something. Maybe he didn't like running from crowds either.

“We'll head back up shortly, but first I think you need to make good on your offer,” said Lucas for my benefit.

Monica finally caught up with us, carrying her shoes in one hand. She looked down and wriggled her bare toes in the sand. Her toenails were painted red.

Lucas said something to the men then turned back to me.

“Hitch your skirt up,” said Lucas.

I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder. It was Johnno. I reached down. It seemed like slow motion. With one hand I pulled the skirt up, baring my behind, there was hardly any need to move it. I lifted one foot and moved it further from the other, parting my legs.

“On your knees,” said Lucas. “Get him good and wet unless you want it to hurt.”

At first I didn't understand. Johnno was pushing me down, pushing my shoulder down so my head could reach his cock. He had it out and it was in his other hand. I sank to my knees. I knew my part; it would be easy. First I licked it, kissed it, caressed it, then I took his cock into my mouth. At first just sucking on the bulbous head, tasting it, then pushing it into my cheek, and finally after preparing my breath, swallowing it whole.

Johnno gasped and exclaimed something in strangely accented Cantonese – he’d only spoken English to that point.

“Seems like the bitch knows her job. You want to get her off your hands Lucas? I could get some work out of her for sure. I know you’re not the kind to work her hard enough.”

Lucas replied in English and I couldn’t tell what he was saying exactly, but it began with a ‘no’.

Johnno slipped out of me, and helped me back to my feet. Then he spun me around to take me from behind. I felt his fingers on my pussy, then the warm wet end of his cock pressing against my lips, then a firm push and he was inside me. It was easier when I didn't have to look at him.

Tate stepped in front of me. He raised his hand, and for a moment I thought he was about to hit me. Then he caught his fingers in my hair and dragged my head down to the erect cock sticking from his pants.

I wondered if I could manage it with Johnno's cock inside me. I ran my tongue along the length, then with a slurp took it inside as Johnno pulled out then thrust back in. It hurt, he was tearing into me, not as big as Lucas, but so aggressive.

Tate pushed into my mouth, his hands knotted deep in my hair, I had no control of my head as he rammed into me. I swallowed and took him into my throat. I'd never felt so physically stretched and full, packed from both ends.

Lucas and Monica were both calling things in English that were probably not kind, more likely imprecations for them to fuck me harder. Never mind, let them do it, I would manage. Maybe they would tear me open and I would bleed to death. So what? At that point the experience was so intense, and I was so excited and out of control I didn't even care what happened to me. How ironic that my fear put me in a situation, and then once I was there it abandoned me.

Johnno pumped into me from behind, his hands digging into my butt-cheeks, while Tate fucked my mouth from the front. Lucas was right. I really was the centre of attention. I wanted to gasp and scream and carry on to express my feelings, but I had a big mouthful of hot cock, so that was impossible. Instead I had to be quiet while they pumped into me. It really wasn't so bad once you got past the pain and humiliation.

Johnno sprayed all over my behind, and then a bit later Tate pulled out as he was cumming and spurted partly into my mouth and partly over my face and breasts. I stood up licking my lips. Lucas had made very clear to me that cum was something precious. I didn’t even have to think about how I should react to it. I looked in Lucas direction and ran my fingers over my butt-cheek, scooping up a big blob of cum, which I lovingly licked off my fingers and smiled.

There was never any possibility that I would cum, it was all over so quickly, but still it was a very memorable experience. If you are forced to serve as a whore, cum-dumpster receptacle, then you may as well try and make the best of it. There are highs, but the lows sink very low, and I was a long way from hitting the bottom.

Johnno and Tate were high-fiving and acting very manly, as if they had just overcome a great challenge. What a challenge for them, they had both fucked a stupid slut at the same time! Any man could have done it.

Lucas smirked, “Just what I expected of you. Now clean yourself up, you're a disgrace.”

I scraped off as much of the cum as I could and ate it all up before it dried completely, but if anyone looked closely they would see traces of it on my face and chest. I put more makeup on to hide it.

There is really not that much more to say about that night. We went back up to the house but we didn't wait around for long. We sat about in one of the darkened rooms for a short time, while Lucas talked to the other men, and then a taxi arrived to take Lucas and myself away.

When we were standing in the lift heading back up to the apartment, Lucas said something strange to me.

“It will get a lot worse for you soon. You think you are ready, but you're not. Do you think that if you had quoted higher prices for your services to Johnno earlier that anyone would have got so angry? No. They would have thought you were serious and thought nothing of it. It was because they thought you were messing around that they got angry. Don't think I will start to go soft on you now. I am getting tired of you already.” Then the lift doors open and he fell silent.

Chapter Nine: Sarah Says

For a couple of weeks things continued much as before except that I performed oral sex for Lucas more often. The taste of his cum had become something completely familiar to me and I began to take some kind of twisted self-hating satisfaction in swallowing it. He announced that from thereon I was required to call him Master Lucas.

I spent most of my time staring out of the window brushing my hair like some fairy-tale princess locked in a tower. What Lucas did when he was away I had no idea, but he didn't spend much more than an hour a day with me.

I avoided any punishments, but I had the sinking feeling that if Lucas didn’t soon regain interest and find something to punish me for, he would sell me to Johnno instead. It turned out that he couldn't even be bothered to do that. I guess it was the truth when he said that I bored him. I imagined he had spent his time on capturing me for some purpose, but whatever it was it wasn't simply to serve as his sex slave, torture victim, or to sell to a pimp.

Late one evening, I heard Lucas unlocking the door, and of course I was quickly down on my knees, naked apart from my heels, waiting for him to fuck my mouth. To my surprise, he entered with the woman from the party who had whispered her cruel translations in my ear. He still expected his usual treatment, but while I was swallowing his cock, he was talking to her, and in Cantonese.

It was far more embarrassing serving Lucas with her watching but there was something about this that made it more exciting. Alone with Lucas the only thing on my mind was failing to please him perfectly – which would result in some nasty punishment – and besides that I had few other feelings. With her present, even though it was humiliating, I felt more alive. When my existence was shared only with Lucas I was only his object, not really a living thing. I had begun to feel as dead as an object that is not even wanted.

She spoke a little stiffly, but her pronunciation was very clear, and her vocabulary very impressive, though sometimes I think she made words up.

“It's quite simple Lucas. She may be submissive but she’s far from willing, the little bitch is faking you out. She may act as if she's broken, but inside there is a stubborn core of resistance. She might even still be in love with you. You've got to smash that, break her down completely. Until you do that there’s too much chance of her doing something stupid and she certainly won’t induce the right amount of pity from Dehlia. Right now, she does as she’s told but she has to think about it. You have to make it her nature. She has to want it and it has to be obvious that desire is something that’s been taught to her, something that’s been done to her, but which consumes her.”

“Sarah, I know these things. Don’t talk down to me or I’ll remind you of who comes first here. I simply don't have the time to mess with her now. I'm too busy and things are heating up with the press. I know you want to have a play, else you wouldn’t be here. Take her. Do what you like. You won't see much of a change because she's so pathetic. Genuine submissive or otherwise, if you ever get her to resist I’ll be surprised. Still, I guess we need to show her a horrible time if we want her to be really convincing for the witch. So, if you want to find out if she has a limit, you may as well go for it. As long as she is still alive she should suffice, but it would be best if it at least seems like she isn’t beyond repair.” He paused and laughed that sharp brittle laugh that often preceded him inflicting awful pain on me. “Though I have heard that the witch can repair some unbelievable things.”

She gave him an odd look when he said that. Something had made her angry but I wasn’t sure what part of it. Then she sniffed and turned away from him, turning her disdainful expression towards me. She gave a slow, deliberately smile that touched only her lips and left her eyes dead and cold.

Was he going to give me to that awful woman? I was horrified. In some way I dreaded the possibility of any change, and worse, that my beloved master would cast me away so easily. I was devastated of course. I wondered what he meant about being convincing, but it was obviously something they weren’t going to explain to me.

“I don't have anything set up in Sydney. I could take her back to Adelaide, but it's all closed up down there. I'd have to reopen the house.”

“You can keep her here if you don't mind staying with me, besides it will give us a chance to catch up... Not that I'm actually here much at the moment. I have to be careful of my movements. Most of the time you’ll be by yourself,” Lucas said.

“Do you have the space?”

“You can have this room. A pet only needs a basket to sleep in. Spare bathroom is rigged as a dungeon. Anything you need, this is Sydney, you can get it here. The regular toys are in the hall cupboard.”

“Oh Lucas, how sweet of you. I can't wait to move in,” she said with a wicked laugh.

Lucas turned to me, and stepped close. He took my face in his and gripping tightly he gave it a squeeze, twisting my face upwards to look at him.

“Now slave, I’m going to put you in the care of Sarah. You will call her Mistress Sarah. She is only a woman but I don’t want you treating her like a soft touch. Obey her orders as you would mine. She can do anything to you short of killing you. If she wants to rip your eyes out and stuff them up your ass like pleasure beads it really won’t matter to me, so bear that in mind won’t you?”

I tried to nod, though he had hold of my head.

“You do understand, don’t you Suki? You may answer.”

“Yes Master Lucas Sir.”


He pushed me roughly away and turned back towards Sarah.

They continued talking for a while, discussing me as if I wasn't there. I knelt attentively, waiting for them to leave, or to take me somewhere. Eventually, they left, and Lucas locked me in.

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