Chapter 10

This time he seemed almost pleased with what I had written. He crossed out the word cunt wherever he found it, but strangely enough this did not seem like an admonishment, but rather like a routine action not threatening further punishment. I felt gratified when he nodded in agreement at something I had written, even though I did not know what it was. He stopped reading and thought about something, nodding his head slowly all the time as he pondered my statements. I thought of asking him what had caught his interest, and if he wanted to discuss it with me, but then I felt a surge of shame at even having such a thought.

When he finished reading, he told me I had done well and a wave of satisfaction washed over me, warming my skin and evoking a delectable ache between my thighs. It was the first time since I’d arrived that I felt this way. I did not know if I should tell him about it. I was not entirely sure what was expected of me and whether this feeling was a good thing, a step in the right direction, or not. I decided to say nothing, but the feeling did not go away, and as I crawled up onto his lap for my spanking, I could not get it out of my mind that although each of the smacks stinging my bottom was a punishment, it was also a reward.

Just as he left, I opened my mouth to ask him if I could carry on using the word cunt, but the words did not come out. My confidence had not grown that much. When I picked up the fresh paper to start again, I saw he had written at the top of the page, You may use the word cunt, but you must continue always to sit up straight while you are working and when you are waiting for me to return. I was so excited I could not wait to get started again. I took the paper to the centre of the room and sat on the floor with my back perfectly straight, and began writing.

I woke up and struggled to open my eyes. When my heavy lids finally lifted, I could see nothing except light. I tried to sit up, but found I could scarcely move my body it ached so much. I was surprised by the touch of a hand on my naked shoulder, and I turned my head so quickly it made me dizzy. It was Galen touching me.

‘You have done well, Syra my pet. Eve, and especially Cleo, have not benefited from the treatment in quite the way you have. Though I can forgive Cleo, for she is very young and has had little preparation.’

His words made me feel proud and I stretched my stiff limbs with the languid satisfaction of a cat.

‘Yes, you have done better than both of them,’ he concluded. ‘My floatation tank obviously suits you. Here, come and sit with me on the balcony.’

I accepted his extended hand, and completely naked, allowed him to lead me out onto the balcony.

‘Does the exposure still frighten you?’ he asked me, looking towards the unprotected edge.

I gazed down into the small square below us. I felt entirely different than the first time I stood there. ‘No, not in the slightest,’ I stated with absolute certainty.

It was that magical time just before sunset and nightfall when the world is hushed and suspended in the mysterious moment of crossing over. We sat on chairs near the edge of the balcony. I stretched my legs forward, tightening my buttocks and lifting my hips to more fully expose my shaved pussy to the world. Galen drew himself up close to me and pointed out the young woman I had seen before with the two men. She was sitting opposite the taxi driver, talking to him across a small table. She leaned forward on her elbows, and when she laughed her bright red lip-gloss glistened in the golden light of a small lamp on the table between them, accentuating the fullness of her lips and highlighting her white teeth and well defined cheekbones. Her face radiated youthful spirit and her curvaceous body exuded desirability. She sat back in her chair and tossed her long dark hair over one bare shoulder. Then she suddenly looked up at me and smiled in a casual, matter of fact way.

I shrunk back a little, embarrassed and startled.

‘Do not worry, Syra, my shy little pet, she cannot see you,’ Galen assured me. ‘She is smiling because she is pleased.’

‘What about?’

‘She is pleased because tomorrow she will have plenty of money to spend. Can’t you see she is agreeing to a deal, settling on a price for her favours?’

The girl stretched forward again and held up four fingers. The taxi driver nodded slowly and they shook hands. Her white teeth shone in the lamplight as she opened her mouth in a wide, becoming smile. Then they both got up and he led her into the alley where I had watched her before with the two young men. His cab was parked there. The girl leaned back against the front of the bonnet, placing her hands behind her and running her fingers across the smooth metallic surface. She ran her palms across the metal as if relishing its cool firmness. The amber glow of a streetlight just barely reached her, picking out sharply defined shadows in the pleats of her short tartan skirt and highlighting her nipples as they poked stiffly against the thin white material of her blouse. The honey-coloured light shone on her smooth legs and shimmered on the bright metal buckles of her highly polished black shoes, making it look as though she was perched on two dazzling stars.

The driver placed his hands on her hips and she squirmed beneath his touch. I saw the glint of the thin metal clasp holding a narrow leather belt around the waist of her skirt. The buckle was pulled tightly up to the last hole on the belt and the remaining length, hanging down loosely, accentuated the appeal of her narrow waist. As I watched I felt a sudden shock inside me, as though I had tripped and was falling into a dream... I felt confused and for a moment forgot where I was... I could not be sure if I was sitting on the balcony or if I was standing in the alley... I was that young woman and the driver’s hands were resting on my hips... I could feel against the outspread fingers of my hands the smooth metal of the vehicle’s shiny bonnet... I shivered, blinked and the moment passed, but it left behind in me a shaky and profound feeling of anxiety.

I stretched my legs out further and slipped both my hands between them, resting the palms flat against the insides of my thighs so my thumbs touched either side of my soft labia. I shivered again as the grazing of my thumbnails set fresh sparks of sensation shooting through my body. I was energised by the charge of feeling as it coursed through me, tugging at my nerves. My stomach muscles tightened and I shivered again, looking desperately at Galen. I needed the reassurance of his commanding presence. I needed to know he was there, watching me and observing all my reactions because they mattered to him.

‘How long was I in the tank?’ I asked anxiously.

‘Why do you want to know, Syra, what is worrying you?’

‘How long was I in there?’ I asked again breathlessly. ‘Please tell me. And did I imagine those things or did I experience them?’ I felt myself beginning to panic.

‘Calm down, my pet. No harm has come to you. How long do you think you were in the tank?’

The firm sound of his voice helped clear some of the mist of my confusion. I realised I had no idea how long I had been suspended in a dark void, and I did not know what to reply. In a sense it had seemed like only minutes, and in another sense it had felt like forever. ‘A few minutes?’ I ventured a guess. ‘Maybe more?’

‘Then you have answered your own question, Syra.’

I was not reassured.

‘But the things I thought I saw...’ I went on hesitantly, still wanting the solid truth. ‘They seemed so real. But they weren’t, were they? Please tell me what’s been happening to me, Galen. Were those things I saw and felt real?’

‘Do you wish them to be real, Syra?’

I pursed my lips and looked down. I felt like a confused child uncertain of the world and of my place in it, because I still could not quite grasp where fantasy ended and reality began. I stared at my hands resting between my legs and could not believe I did not feel embarrassed at my nakedness and exposure. ‘Yes,’ I said at last, ‘I do. I do wish they were real.’

‘Then do not be concerned, Syra. You have nothing to be afraid of any more. Fear is not part of you now. Your fears have been exposed for the charlatans they are. Now you can be as bad as you wish. There is nothing holding you back. I promise you that now your every desire can be fulfilled. You only need to test yourself and you will have the proof you need what I am saying is true.’

That word again - bad - sent shivers of delight down my spine. The sound of it thrilled me intensely. It was like a parcel of bliss containing everything I had once been afraid of and everything I now desired. In some way that small, simple word held all the things I secretly wished for, every craving I ever dared have, and Galen’s promise unwrapped it and laid its contents bare for me like a priceless gift. ‘Can I truly be bad?’ I asked, thrilling to my own utterance of the word. ‘Truly, truly, bad?’

‘Does it excite you to watch the young woman down there in the alley?’

‘Yes, very much.’

‘Does the fact that she has sold herself for money excite you?’

‘Yes...’

‘And does the idea of her now having to satisfy a stranger thrill you, Syra?’

My throat was dry. I could hardly speak, but after I swallowed, I said the only thing that was possible. ‘Yes, it thrills me.’

‘And the idea that she does not know what this stranger wants, what things he wishes to do to her, does that excite you as well, Syra?’

‘More than anything,’ I breathed. ‘The idea of having to do something but not knowing what it is excites me more than anything.’

‘Then watch.’

The driver turned the girl around and she leaned forward across the bonnet. I felt the control he had over her. He had paid for her and she had agreed to do whatever he wanted. Until the contract was satisfied, she would not be released. I could imagine how she felt now beholden to his every whim, no longer able to control what she did or what happened to her. Her only goal was to do what she was told and to strive to please him. Her only purpose was to satisfy any desires he demanded satisfied by her nubile young body. My heart pounded at the thought of being in her position, of following instructions without question, of being blindly obedient and completely submissive. It was so arousing I wanted to run down and take her place. I wanted to bend over the bonnet of the cab and wait for the first demand to be made. I wanted to experience the fear that would accompany the anticipation, and the sinking sense of hopelessness and despair tainting the dark exhilaration of being forced to satisfy a stranger’s sexual demands.

The man put his hand on the girl’s back and bent her fully forward across the shiny metal bonnet. Her pleated skirt lifted slightly and the pert curve of her buttocks could be seen from beneath the hem. Only the slightest crease marked the joining of her bottom cheeks to the top of her thighs, and I could see the tension in the beautifully smooth skin where it turned delicately into the shadowed indentation between her legs. I sensed her willingness to bend forward in front of the man, and the easy manner with which she did so entranced me. The simple act of facing away from him and leaning forward so her unprotected bottom was thrust towards him struck me as the epitome of submissive compliance.

The driver lifted the hem of her skirt slightly, and I trembled as the white edge of her panties was revealed. I leaned forward in my chair and peered intently into the space between her thighs, but the driver let go of her skirt and it fell as if in slow motion, almost fully covering her panties again and concealing from view the white purse of her pudenda.

‘Could you do that?’ Galen asked me abruptly.

I was surprised by the sound of his voice. I knew I wanted to do it as I watched, as I sat safe on the balcony, but wanting was not the same as doing. ‘Yes,’ I said, without letting myself think about it.

‘Then bend over in front of me. Get down on your knees, put your hands on the edge of the balcony, and expose your bottom, your pussy and your anus to me while you watch the scene below.’

I did not hesitate to do as he instructed. First I stood up and faced him, so he could look at me and I could enjoy the feel of his eyes on me. I hoped he would look at my breasts and see how hard my aching nipples were, and if he chose to, he could stare closely and see them lifting slightly with each throbbing beat of my heart. I wanted to see his eyes on the shaved flesh of my pussy. I wanted to watch him gazing at it intently, observing that the smoothness of my skin was broken only by goose bumps of excitement.

He indicated with a pointing finger that I should turn around and get down on my knees. My heart pounded in my chest, making it hard for me to take a deep breath as I fought to control my trembling limbs. I was filled with anticipation, bursting with a flood of expectation. It was as much as I could take. I was already very wet. How could anticipation be so fulfilling? How was it possible to be taken to your breaking point by a mere thought, without any physical contact, without the completeness of action? How could expectation itself lead me to the very brink of gratification? I turned away from his eyes and lowered myself onto my knees. I felt his gaze on my back. I could feel the heat of his stare as it penetrated every pore of my skin and made my blood boil with lust. Slowly I knelt and sat with my buttocks pressed against my upturned heels. I squared my shoulders, sat up straight and clasped my hands together behind my back. I stiffened my arms, forcing my breasts forward and tightening my stomach and thigh muscles.

‘On your hands and knees,’ he said sharply.

I felt a twinge of guilt that I had not obeyed his exact instructions right away, and bit my lip, feeling like a naughty girl. I had been indulging myself too much in the pleasure of submitting to him and in so doing failed to obey him, now he was disappointed in me. I unclasped my hands and planted them on the floor. Then, still facing away from him, I bent forward and knelt compliantly before him as I wrapped my fingers over the unprotected edge of the balcony. It was an act of remorse; I felt it as an act of penance, the only way I could show him I was sorry for my moments of slavish pride. I lifted my buttocks as high as I could, asking him to forgive my vanity by offering him my assets. I wanted him to look at my pudenda blooming invitingly between my thighs. I wanted him to glimpse the depth of my feeling for him in the promising shadow between my bottom cheeks. I wanted him to admire the sensual dip of my back as I gripped the edge of the balcony and lowered my shoulders as far as I could. I wanted him to forgive me.

I kept my bottom high as my eyes focused again on the scene below. The young woman was still lying prone across the bonnet of the taxi, the hem of her pleated skirt still barely breaking the line of whiteness that was the edge of her panties. The driver was still standing behind her, but now he dangled a rope from his hand. He looked ominous and threatening, especially since I could not tell if she was aware of what he was holding. She was still running her hands across the shiny metal, and she was either unaware of the rope in his hand, as yet innocent of its threat, or she knew about it because it was part of their agreement and she was anticipating its bite. If she was anticipating it, I wondered if she was afraid of the pain it might bring her of if she was relishing the sting that would perversely feed her fulfilment. Both possibilities excited me as I eased forward slightly so my face was hanging fully over the edge of the balcony. I imagined if I went too far, if I forgot myself, that Galen would grab me by the ankles and hold me there, dangling naked and suspended on his mercy.

I did not know what to expect from the tableaux below me. I did not know what I would prefer to happen. The alternatives were confused inside me in an arousing way as I fought to find reality amongst the pictures flashing through my mind. Did I want to see him tie her down so she could not move, and would I feel the tightly pulled bonds against my own wrists and ankles if he did so? Would I wriggle in front of Galen like a captured animal desperate to free myself? I pictured the look in the girl’s eyes, desperate for rescue, desperate to hold on to her courage until he decided what to do with her as already she regretted their bargain. I lifted my bottom higher as the driver swung the rope idly in his hand. The sight of its lazy, swaying motion hypnotised me. I could feel my eyes following it and could sense my mind being paralysed by the rhythmic movement. It seemed to mimic the beating of my heart and the aroused pulsing of the veins in my neck as I began breathing in time with it. I stared, entranced, at the swinging rope and the beautiful victim it threatened.

The man reached forward with the hand holding the rope. He extended his forefinger and inserted the tip beneath the hem of her skirt so the loose braids of the rope fell across her bottom. He lifted the hem slightly and exposed not just the edge of her panties but the full tight spread of them enclosing her taut young buttocks. I could see the shadowy line down the centre of the material outlining the sweet divide between her bottom cheeks, and again I revelled in the sight of the darker hollow opening up like a secret valley beneath the flimsy gusset. One of the strands of rope lay in the furrow at the centre of the gusset and its end fell between her open thighs.

I wanted him to lift her skirt higher and not pull it down again, ever. I wanted to remain suspended in that moment of time until the end of time. This was the point at which I desired all actions to pause, the moment just before something happened, the cusp of expectation, the edge of the beginning of fulfilment. I wanted to see myself watching this scene forever, never having to release the tension of my orgasm, never having to commit myself to the energy that would eventually lead to dissipation. I did not want any more. This point was the point I wanted to inhabit eternally. But it could not be. Moments like these could not last; they were too perfect.

He folded the hem of her skirt up and I watched it drape across her hips. I expected to feel disappointment, but the folded edges of the sharp pleats lying above the waistband of her panties and crumpled against her bare back sent a shiver of delight through me like the unstoppable surge of an ocean swell. He took hold of the elastic rimming her panties and pulled them down in one swift movement, exposing her abruptly, shockingly, and now there was no going back. She writhed slightly as he tugged the white cotton down to her knees, and I saw the backs of her legs tense as the material pulled into a twisted knot around them.

‘Have you decided what you want to happen?’ Galen asked from behind me. His question was like a flash of lightning devastating me with excitement. I was surprised and shocked and swallowed nervously as my grip on the edge of the balcony weakened dangerously. Suddenly I felt dizzy and anxious, reeling with nerves, vulnerable and frail.

‘Have you decided what you want to happen?’ he asked me again.

This time I felt afraid; afraid because I had not responded instantly, afraid he would abandon me as a failure once and for all. But I did not know what to say. And I did not know what he wanted to hear. But he had asked me for a decision and I knew I had to make one, fast. I opened my legs slightly, so my pussy was more fully exposed to him. I imagined his gaze on it, his dark eyes looking closely at my moist flesh, but it was not enough to distract me, I still had to give him an answer. I still had to decide what I wanted to happen down there in that dark alley. But already it was too late. I could sense my master’s impatience and I could see the driver lifting the rope behind his head. He was making ready to lash it down on the girl’s upturned buttocks, and within seconds it would all be over. Once the rope had bitten her skin, I would not be able to decide what I had wanted to happen. Events would have overtaken me. I would have failed. Galen would see me as inadequate and would desert me. He would find someone else to take my place and he would tell her how I was a failure like the pet and like Cleo. I would become nothing more than another failure, just another of the many young women unable to fully appreciate and take advantage of the training he made available.

The rope lifted higher as the man extended his arm. I saw the girl’s bottom cheeks tighten in trepidation, and the shadow between her upturned buttocks narrowed into a thin line as she drew her lovely mounds together in fearful anticipation. She spread her hands out flat on the bonnet of the car to brace herself, extending her arms fully and tensing her shoulders. She turned her face to the side, biting down on her full bottom lip, and I saw in the amber light how she squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as she could in a vain attempt to absorb the pain she knew would be visited upon her within seconds.

Still I had not answered him. It was as though I could not fight against the distraction of the images being presented to me. It was as if even Galen’s request was not enough to focus my attention away from the exquisitely promising moment below me. I felt wayward and distraught. I had lost my way and did not know in which direction to turn. But I had to speak, I had to reply, I had to tell him what I desired.

‘I... I want it to happen to me...’

Had I answered correctly? Would my reply please him or had I waited too long? Had I failed?

‘Watch the little drama until the end, Syra my pet, and then I will send you down into the streets and you can experience it for yourself. I will know everything you do, of course, everything that happens to you, but when you come back you will tell me everything in your own words. I will want to hear it from you and I will want to make sure what you tell me is correct. But for the moment, simply watch, my pet.’

I peered down into the shadowy alley as earnestly as I could. I watched the flailing rope and listened to the stinging blows as they fell. I saw the perspiration glistening on the girl’s buttocks and saw, even in the dim light of the streetlamp, the lines of redness appearing on her smooth skin. Then I saw other men enter the alley and take their turn whipping her as two of them held her down against the bonnet. Some of them chose to spank her, and she raised her bottom higher with each smacking blow as though revelling in its force, the sound it made, and the penetrating pain it filled her with.

I watched avidly as they finally turned her over, stripped her naked and tied her firmly to the bonnet. I saw the rope lashed around her chest, binding her tightly across the breasts, and peered eagerly, trembling with shockwaves of pleasure inevitably building into an orgasm, as they drew some of the rough rope down between her legs, tugging it tightly up into the sensitive valley between her thighs before leading it back up around her trim waist.

I clutched the edge of the balcony even more tightly as I saw her legs spread wide by grasping hands, and I was seized by the clenching grip of a climax as Galen began spanking me, with each blow driving me further out over the edge of the balcony. I watched the men take the helpless young beauty in every way they desired while I, too, longed to be filled with throbbing cocks. I yearned to be penetrated by endless erections and baptised with flowing semen as countless took me repeatedly. I wanted to be tied and passed from man to man as I succumbed to every pleasure they demanded from my flesh. Then I wanted to be spread across their laps and spanked as punishment for everything I had done with them and every orgasm I had experienced. I wanted my bottom spanked like the girl in the alley, as I felt cool cum flowing over it and running like a river between my thighs and over my smouldering vulva.

And when it was all over, when I was panting with fatigue, when semen was trickling from the corners of my mouth, I wanted to be freed from my bonds. I wanted to feel myself slipping off the smooth bonnet of the taxi and sinking to my knees in silent exhaustion and supplication. I wanted to experience the dizzy confusion as I knelt, used and spent, on the cobbles of the alley and attempted to wipe myself dry with the tattered cotton of my torn white panties. And then I wanted to feel again the smarting pain of a final spanking.

Suddenly he appeared in the doorway and told me to stop writing. I wanted to say I had more to do and he would not be satisfied if he read my work in such an unfinished state, but I could see he was in no mood to listen to my excuses. I put the unfinished pages down and stared at them in hopeless frustration. He said he had decided to untie me. He wanted to see how I would react to being free. It had been so long since I had not felt the bonds around my ankles I could hardly remember what it was like. He bent down and slowly untied the thin rope. I looked at the back of his neck as he worked to loosen the tight knot. It was as though he was my servant, as though he was tending to my needs, almost as if he was my captive. I imagined he was worshipping at my feet, holding them in adoration, letting them rest in his upturned palms, caressing their soles and running his thumbs up around my ankles. I thought of him prising his fingers between my toes, gently easing them apart, and pressing his fingertips into the soft indentations between them. I sat up as straight as I could and my head drooped back. I moaned as the tension around my ankles eased, and I let my knees sag apart as the rope finally fell away.