loneliness, I was still not alone. With my blindfold in place, it
just felt that way. When Tane returned he'd ask, "Did you
hear the bells?" And the guard would answer either yes or no.
'Yes' was much more common than 'no' was.
Towards the end of my 'Falcon' days, the guard
disappeared and then I truly was left alone. Darkness
swallowed me, panic that I might be left like this forever
consumed me. But always my Master returned to soothe me
with a touch from his hand, and he'd ask, "Did you move,
Mischief?"
There were many times when I told him 'yes' just so I
could feel the reassurance of being pinned across his strong
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thighs while a seemingly endless explosion of pain rained
down across my bottom and thighs as he spanked me. It was
a comfort to know he still wanted me enough to bother with
punishing me. And I liked it when he held me afterward and
kissed the tears from my face.
It was a rare occasion when I made it through the day as
still as a statue of stone, but when I did I was rewarded with
tender touches and praise. Gentle hands would caress their
way to my breasts, squeezing and lifting them to his mouth,
plucking and suckling at the nipples until they tightened for
him. His body would come into mine, and he would satisfy
himself with me. If I was very good, and if he felt I deserved
it, then sometimes he would allow me pleasure as well, but it
wasn't necessary. Just the feel of him sliding inside me, hard
and thick, his desire for me driving him to love me with
breath-taking vigor, left me as satisfied as any orgasm.
Impossible though it may be to believe, I was coming to
think of my Master as my savior and not my tormenter. And
in these early days of training, his gentle touches were the
only light in my darkened world. I cherished them. They kept
me alive when isolation and darkness consumed all else and I
could no longer remember a time when I hadn't worn a collar
and restraints or welts and bruises constantly upon me. All I
knew was my Master rescued me from my seclusion and fears
when I was good. And when I wasn't, he took me to the
absolute depths of despair.
He was the air I breathed, his scent filling me as I filled my
lungs. When I ate, it was always from his hand. When I
drank, he held the cup. What words were spoken, were in his
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voice; my every moment of pleasure derived from his touch.
With all my heart, I knew he was the only reason that I lived.
Chained, blindfolded and alone, I was convinced that I would
die without him.
He molded me like I molded my clay, but it's only upon
reflection that I can see just how drastically I changed,
becoming for him the perfect Personal, a possession and a
thing of beauty.
And I was proud to be so for him. My Master, my beloved.
I was valuable now. At long last, I had worth.
After two months the blindfold came off and I was led,
blindfolded and on my leash, into the Personals' Day Room for
the very first time. It was a little frightening to suddenly go
from days of silence to the sound of movement and the soft
voices of other females talking quietly around me. I would
have been perfectly content to turn around and go back to a
life of utter isolation, but my Master ran his hand down my
leash until he could hook my collar with his fingers and pulled
me right into the room.
"You are going to meet the other Personals now," he said
close to my ear. "Relax, Mischief. Remember, you are a peer
among them. This is where you belong outside my presence."
My breathing quickened and I panicked anyway when Tane
removed my blindfold for the first time since my falcon
training began.
At this point, I will point out that when you lose the ability
to think for yourself, you lessen your ability to cope with even
the smallest of changes. This is why Personals were separated
from the unpredictable, free-thinking Lessers. It's why we
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were kept deep inside the mountain fortress, under lock and
key, our every waking moment supervised and guarded and
scheduled. Because our masters couldn't always be with us,
the Personals' Day Room was created as a safe place for us to
meet, like a flock of passive sheep, under the watchful eye of
one master or another, depending on whose free hour it was.
Every day was always the same and our schedule ran like
this:
Borsch was the first master of the day, and his was a quiet
hour spent reading, studying a new skill or brushing up on an
old one. Next came Deaton who herded us out to the exercise
field and put us through our paces. Then Master Oxley and, if
the day was nice, we worked in the gardens and Aviary.
Lunch came next, and the arrival of six masters and all the
sub-masters. Because Personals did not feed themselves, we
were paired two or three females to a male to eat and drink
from his fingers. Then came Masters Grayson, Doctor
Moulton, Wilhite, and Shipe, respectively, and we could either
nap or work at whatever skills we possessed. That last hour
of the day was always the longest one, filled with softly
whispered conversation and excited glances cast to the clock [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]