WIND DANCER

BY CHRISTOPHER TOILKIEN

[ part 4 ]

Rigorio led me back out to the front of the house where the main stairs came down to the front door by the chain leading to the choke collar around my neck. And turned right, leading me down the main hallway that ran through the core of the house. Passing closed and probably locked doors on either side, he led me up to a large set of doors blocking our progress. After unlocking the doors with the only key from is pocket, he led me into the large room beyond.

From the outside, the mansion appeared to be a shallow H shape, with a story and a half ground floor with dormer windows in the Dutch barn style roof. But the north wing was all one large room, right up to the attic level. All the windows were there, but nothing was inside at the second floor.

Whatever the architect had in mind, had been circumvented, the room had been turned into a gymnastic training center. With the finest quality of every conceivable device and piece of equipment one could ever want. And I was the only pupil.

My jailer led me over to a black box taller and wider than my height. Set in a corner with a smaller oblong on top and silently ordered me to sit, by pointing to a place on the floor a few feet from the front of the big box.

I was nude, on a leash like a dog. With a dogs choke chain around my neck and my wrists cuffed behind me. I knew the doors we had just came through had locked shut behind me, as all the doors in the house did. And since there was not really anything else I could do, without bringing down more punishment, I decided until the opportunity presented itself. I would at least appear to obey.

"Sit and watch what I will train you will be one day." He instructed.

I jumped as music came from all directions and the box side facing me became a huge TV set. In front of me, girls, some no bigger, or probably not much older, than I was, were performing on some of the stuff I had seen when he led me in.

"That is Niana, four years your senior and the finest balance beam performer in Europe." He informed me as I watched a raven hared girl leap, bend and prance on a long wooden beam.

"The American girl Sandy is at fifteen is setting the standard for the parallel bars." Noted Rigorio. This American girl leapt and wrapped herself around a pair of parallel horizontally mounted wooden poles as if her body had no bones.

"Angelique, the French sixteen year old, has not been bested in the floor exercise routine since she was twelve." He informed me.

This girl was one fluid motion as she danced and contorted with a ball; ribbon decorated batons or just herself.

"The French will give her the Croix de Guerre if she wins the gold again at this summers Olympics in the US." He informed me.

Little female gymnast after little female gymnast contorted, danced, swung and performed. I had no idea such existed and was enthralled. Especially since he thought I just might be able to duplicate their actions, someday.

"Time for you to try a few steps on the balance beam." He informed me when the videotape was over.

I stood up and Rigorio unfastened the cuffs from my wrists and lifted the chain from around my neck. He then put his hand on my shoulder and guided me over to a long straight beam of wood supported by two metal feet just as high as my stomach. Beyond, two rings hung from two ropes all the way down from the ceiling and beyond that, a flat topped pyramid shaped wooden box.

"This is a balance beam, see if you can at least walk on it a few steps before you fall off.” He suggested. “The floor pads on either side will soften the impact when you hit the floor.”

“Yeah right.” I said to myself.

As soon as I felt his hand lift of my shoulder, I jumped straight up, landing surefooted on the beam. Ran as fast as I could down the beam, and launched myself for the metal rings. The velocity of my run, I knew was enough to carry me the distance to them, and swing me all the way to the blunted pyramid shaped box. I collapsed into a ball just before I reached it and rolled across the padded top of the box. Landed on my feet on the other side and kept running until I reached the vaulting horse. Jumped up, grabbed the rings and somersaulted upside down right over it. Landings on my feet with my arms rapidly wind milling backward to cancel my forward momentum

I had taught myself that forward momentum draining action to keep my feet on a branch after jumping onto it from another. A handy trick if you are high enough up in a tree where falling off would kill you. It was to become my signature, "Wind Dancer" dismount.

I was now on the other side of the gym, and out of his reach.

Wit my excellent sight, even from across the room, I could see the look of shock and amazement on his face.

As I stood there he clapped his hands once. I simply stood still where I was. I was not some animal, trained to come running at a call from its master.

But he then clapped again, and again, each time faster. Until I realized it was applause, not a recall.

I bowed low and he began talking to me. All the time he was edging closer through the equipment between us. "That was an amazing performance." He began. "And your dismount at the end, simply brilliant."

"We can use it as a basis of your first routine if you can start it with cartwheels on the balance beam." Rigorio added.

"What is a cartwheel?" I replied.

Suddenly he was supporting his entire body upside-down with one hand and then rolling forward over his head sideways and onto his outstretched legs then back over his head as if they were spikes in a wheel. And suddenly, before I realized his performance had mesmerized me. Rigorio had me back in his arms, turned me upside down as he held onto one leg and instructed.

"You forgot I was trained as a gymnast since I was ten years old. By a man who literally kidnapped me right off the street after seeing me perform in a local gymnastic meet. And for the next two years held me a virtual prisoner in this house while he trained me.

"So you had better realize I already know the tricks you have pulled and ones you have not even thought of yet." Rigorio informed me.

Then he dropped me on my head with a swat on my ass. But I was ready and just folded up into a ball and rolled across the mat.

"Your actions a few moments ago have ably demonstrated why I chose you. " He began. "Now we can begin your training, with a ground floor cartwheel."

For the rest of that day, until the sunlight disappeared from the windows, I attempted to duplicate his cartwheel. If that old man could do it, this little eight-year-old girl would literally work her ass off until she could too.

Outahere

The moon was playing bide and seek with clouds as I slipped out of bed. Everything dead silent in my prison as I hurriedly dressed, except I stuffed socks into my shoes and hung them around my beck by tying their laces together. Then quietly moved to the two large French windows that flooded my room with moonlight tonight. They where actually pairs of doors composed of double pains if glass set in a stout wooden frame complete with brass hinges and latch work.

The first ones I tried were painted shut, and had not been opened in years, but the next one appeared as if they had been frequently opened not too ling ago. A brass bar ran along the edge, attached to the latch, acted as a dead bolt at the top and bottom sills. But it would not budge.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I wrapped a sock from the dirty clothing basket near my prison rooms door around one of my shoes and hit the latch, trying to move it. I banged it again and it moved a tiny bit. Cheered by this tiny victory, I hammered it until it moved all the way, pulling the locking bar out its brass fittings at the top and bottom of the window. Bracing my foot against one leaf while I tugged on the latch handle of the other, it took all my strength to pull the window open just enough to slip my thin little preteen body out.

But now I stood, toes hanging over the edge, a story and a half in the air. Nothing below except flower beds. The exterior walls were stucco and afforded no purchase even for my experience at climbing toes.

The high stone wall that completely surrounded my prison only a good sprint away. I was just about to give up when I noticed a metal down pipe mounted to the wall between my two windows with metal brackets. It was at least two meters away and I would not be able to take a run at it. It was now or never, as I knew it would be impossible for me to close the window door. He would discover my escape attempt and nail both windows shut.

I moved to the edge nearest the downspout, crouched low and leapt.

And almost did not make it.

My fingers just barely managed to grab a mounting bracket as my momentum faded. But I could not prevent my body from slammed into the metal pipe, knocking the wind out of me, but kept my grip on the pipe. My eyes warily searched the line of upper floor windows to see if the sound of my body striking the metal pipe had woke my jailer. But they were all still dark and the night air carried no sounds of alarm to my ears.

Then the pipe was just a thin trunk as my strong fingers and experienced feet moved me hand over hand all the way to the ground. Now for a quiet as a lamb scoot across the flower beds, up and over the ornate wrought iron gate, then freedom, and home.

I was a third of the way to the gate when I heard the barking of dogs behind me. I turned my head and saw four large low shapes just coming around the corner of the house. They spotted me, howled with delight, and gave chase.

Terrified, I turned towards the gate and knew I was literally running for my life. Leaping over bushes and flowerbeds, I reached the grassy area that covered half the distance between the house and the wall in a dozen heart beats. Then I bent low and raced for the gate, but the sound of the dogs was still closing.

I was almost to the gates, but the sound of one dog’s growl was right behind me. Praying, I would be far enough up the gate before it caught up and pulled me down.

"STOP!! The gates electrified and one touch will kill you." Came Rigorio, s yell from behind me.

At the last instant I changed direction, but my momentum still carrying me forward and I threw myself down. Skidding on the gravel for a second. Then rolling on the grass right up to the base of the wall.

The scream of an animal in pain and the crackle of high voltage came to my ears bringing along the stench of burnt flesh. I looked up towards the gate I had almost climbed to see the body of dog that had almost caught me smoldering at the base of the black metal gates.

I jumped up, expecting the rest of the pack to fall on me, but Rigorio was there. He was nude in bare feet, the dogs behind him, lying prone, whimpering and he had a long buggy whip in his hand.

My jailer walked up to me where I stood, quivering in fear. His eyes were narrow and his expression hard.

I had tried to escape and in the attempt one of his guard dogs had died. The stench of its electrocuted body filled my nostrils, as tears dripped down my cheeks. I had never even seen anything dead before and I had caused this one.

"Strip, you stupid little bitch, before I loose my temper and let my dogs tear you limb from limb as I watch." He threatened, brandishing the long whip, and holding out his other hand, probably for my clothes. I threw the shoes down and stippled off my white blouse, handing it back to him. Next came my skirt ad last my underwear.

He then turned and threw it all to his dogs. We both watched as they leapt up and tore them to pieces between them. My jailer then walked over to me gripped me by the back of my neck, dragging me over to the still smoldering body of the dog.

"That is Souse, their bitch." He informed me. "I have a mind to chain you up in their kennel as her replacement." He threatened, as he turned and shoved me towards the dogs, still holding on to my neck. But just as they lunged for me, he spun me away behind him. Sending me rolling on the grass. I glanced up past him to see they stopped dead in their tracks, heads bowed ears flat against their heads. These half-wild dogs feared him as much as I did

"Back to the house girl." He ordered, turning towards where I lay face down at his feet, flicking the buggy whip across my ass. I yelped, and hurried to obey as it stung even more than his switch.

As I walked past him I noted his switching my bare ass had not aroused his maleness. Somehow I was just a little annoyed, but had no idea why.

He followed me all the way back to my room before he remembered being nude meant no pants, no pockets, and no keys.

"If you move from that spot." Rigorio threatened. "I will skin you alive after tonight’s bullshit." And stormed off towards the far end of the second floor corridor.

My head hurt, my arms hurt and my fingers were all bloody from grasping that drainpipe bracket to prevent me falling to my death. I simply did not care what he did to me and slumped down in front of my bedroom door.

My eyes opened to a view of a light blue painted ceiling. I was lying on my back on a padded surface, my arms drawn up and wide apart over my head. My ankles similarly spread wide. Trying to move my arms to a more comfortable position were thwarted as my limbs where apparently restricted by soft cuffs at wrist and ankle. My heartbeat increased and my body began to sweat. It looked as if I was about to get punished for trying to escape.

The walls of this new room where lined with white painted cupboards, and had no windows. In a corner, one of those low padded tables you find in a doctors examining room, complete with elaborate metal stirrups to hold your legs had me believing maybe he had taken me to a hospital or doctors office.

The sound of a key in a lock came to my ears announcing the entrance of my jailer. I rolled my head sideways to find he had taken time to dress after binding me to this table.

"You have managed to scratch up your left shoulder and hip as you dodged running into my electrified gate." Rigorio noted as he moved to a glass door cupboard. He removed something I could not see and then moved to another cupboard where he took down a plastic box.

'We will have to treat your scratches before they become infected." He informed me as he pulled on a pair of plastic gloves. Then he was standing over me dressed in another one of those tracksuits he usually wore.

"This room was meant for treating any muscle strains that are common in athletes." He informed me.

"You are lying on a masseuse table, complete with back ligament flexing motors. " He went on. "And I think you have earned a demonstration of how I intend to use it on you."

His hand moved to a spot in the platform just below my hip and a whirring sound came to my ears as my wrists and ankles were gradually pulled in opposite directions.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! Came from my wide-open mouth as tears stung my eyes. The pounding of my heart filled my ears, my lungs finding it hard to draw a full breath.

"Of course for a little body such as yours, it can double as a punishment rack." He softly whispered in my ear. Again the motors hummed as my helpless young form was pulled apart for the pleasure.

My world consisted of this room, this rack and pain.

Through the agony that ran from my wrist to ankles, I felt his fingers probing the scratches on my shoulder. A sharp sting ran across it, but is was nothing compared to the agony that he was inflicting on my thin little preteen body. Another sting at my hip, that would have normally made me cry out, if I was not already screaming as the rack stretched my body again.

Though my sweat drenched body was on fire from head to toes, I felt his touch at my sex, his gloved fingers caressing its outer lips. The cuffs had been designed to restrain adult’s body gently. My tiny eight-year-old one was spread wide by them, and could do nothing about it.

I was not the first female to be tortured for a male’s pleasure, but I was the one being tortured to please this one. And it was to become a frequent event in my life from here on. Even now, pain is irrevocably connected to pleasure in my mind.

Even through the agony of the racking, my female mind registered the first intrusion of my sex by another’s probing fingers. I felt a thin object gently caress my outer lips, mildly vibrating. It probed gently inwards, and I gasped as it touched something near the top of my femininity.

A low buzzing finally was allowed to penetrate my wall of pain. And its source came into my vision as his left hand moved up my abs and brushed my almost breasts. Through tear filled eyes, I observed a shinny box, trailing a black wire, was strapped to the back of his hand.

The effect on my pubescent nipples was immediate as they stiffened, regardless of whatever he was doing to the rest of my body. The vibrations multiplied the effects of his fingers probing my femininity at breast and quim. A moan escaped my lips, as the thumb of his left hand caressed my right nipple and his right hands thumb caressed that spot at the top of my slit.

"I understand even pubescent little girls bodies can be trained to produce a sweet nectar from their sex if it repeatedly stimulated." He noted. "And I intend on training that part of you on this table, as I train the rest of it in my gym."

At this point, I simply did not care what he did to the rest of my body. If he only continued his training of that newly discovered pleasure zone between my legs.

His left hand moved to the side of the table and the strain on my body slacked off, but the pain did not. His hands moved to the cuffs restraining my outstretched form, but my mind was simply too confused by the diametrically opposite feelings that were fighting for its attention.

Rigorio then bent down slightly, retrieving a clear plastic bottle from under the table and after pouring some of its content on to one of his palms. Rubbed his palms together and then gripped my right leg and started massaging it.

"Relax, the punishment part is over for now." He informed me. "I need to see if tonight’s little incident harmed your ligaments. "And that racking session did not?" I thought to myself. From my fingertips to my toes, my entire body was still very sore, and I hated him for it.

But my leg felt much better as his strong fingers probed and massaged its muscles. He moved to my right leg, lifting it up flexing it and massaging it. I felt as if I was a rag doll and he was a playing Doctor with it.

"Roll over." He instructed. And gripping me at hip and shoulder rolled me over onto my front. His hands reached down and massaged my taunt little ass cheeks, one slipping between my legs and caressing my sex. A soft moan inadvertently escaped my lips and my thin little legs parted.

"I am at a quandary." He said. "Whether to spank your ass for trying to escape and all most get yourself killed. First by my guard dogs and then my electrified gate."

"Or take the proffered offer your body has indicated me, to teach you more about your bodies pleasure zones."

"Please show me how to create those feelings in my little girl cleft." I begged him. "And I will promise to really try pleasing you with my mouth in return."

Again I was not the first little girl to offer to please the male who owned her body. But again I was the one offering it up to the one who owned mine

If my life was to be one of constant training under his hard task mastering. I would need to reach that level of pleasure he had shown me my own body was capable of giving me, or go insane.

Rigorio said nothing, but his hands moved to my slit .I eagerly lifted up my ass and pressed back against his exploring fingers.

"Easy girl." He warned. " I do not want to take your hymen with my finger." His thumb was rubbing that spot at the top, as his fingers caressed the lips of my sex.

I had no idea what he meant, except it felt so good, I would have done anything he asked me just to have him keep doing it.

Suddenly my little slit explodes, flooding my mind with maximum pleasure, as it spread throughout my body; I cried out and fainted.

If You Let It Go

It was another day; he woke me as usual and was annoyed because I was not already up and kneeling ready for him. But he simply took me into the bathroom and hung me up for my morning bath. Everything went as it had on the first two days, right down to blow drying my hair and fastening it into a ponytail to keep it out of my way in the gym.

Until he walked me back into my bedroom, that is.

For the first time he ordered me to stand still while he walked over to the large dresser and started removing items. As I moved under his direction, he really surprised me when he began to dress me starting with fine cotton underwear and knee high socks. I had been left to dress myself ever since I was five and wondered why he wanted to do it for me as if I was his walking talking living doll.

Next came a crisp bright white new blouse and followed by a dark gray wraparound skirt. Finally new saddle shoes. But my surprise was cooled when he, as usual, he then fastened my wrists behind my back adding the usual choke chain with attached dog lead and again led me down the stairs into the kitchen.

This time he wrapped a large bib around my neck to protect my new clothes as he fed me my usual high protean breakfast. As it had now had become our habit, after a feeding, he unzipped his pants and withdrew his cock for me to pay in the usual way for his feeding me. I had promised last night, after all, to at least try to please him with my mouth.

Then I was no where near as proficient with my mouth and tong pleasing a male as I am now. But most females did not start their training in oral sex when they are eight years old.

After carefully cleaning my face of both my breakfast and his cum, removed the bib. Again Rigorio surprised me by leading me for the first time to the front door. There he stripped off my chains, leaving them on a table just inside it. My jailer then placed a lunch pail he had carried with him from the kitchen into a new tooled leather backpack that had been sitting on it. And slipped it over my shoulders and onto my back.

By now I was thoroughly puzzled but was starting to believe he was playing a sick joke on me. I had tried to escape his abusive clutches twice in the last two days, and I guess it was payback time.

I gasped as he unlocked the door and walked with me all the way down the drive to the main gate. Was this also part of his little game? I knew the walls were not climbable and the gates electrified.

We stood there in silence until the school bus pulled up, and I almost let out a whoop for joy when he unlocked the gate and escorted me out to it.

As I stepped up into the bus and freedom, he said.

“You never know if something you train is really yours unless you are willing to let it go and wait to see if it will come back to you.”

"Don’t wait up for me." I sad to myself as I walked down the length of the bus and took a seat.

Out in the yard I met my usual friends and told them I was now living at Rigorio’s house as he thought I might be trainable into a gymnast. About the size of his house, it’s own gymnasium, and my bedroom.

I left out the parts about him switching my bum and backside or forcing me to suck his maleness for feeding me after each and every meal. I was embarrassed, especially about how much I had enjoyed the sensations when his strong hands caressed those private places.

“He at least dresses you well.” Natasha noted. "That blouse you are wearing alone must have cost a hundred."

“And your hair is actually not its usual rats nest.” Allay added.

"You even smell like one of my mothers perfumes." Seleen noted.

"Do you wash his clothes, or clean his house as payment" Natasha asked.

These girls’ parents were well off and usually better dressed than most. And I realized I for the very first time as I looked at my fellow schoolmates, I was better dressed than everyone else in the schoolyard was. As the youngest girl, I had inherited all the clothes the older girls in the other families that worked on our orchards grew out off. That meant I actually had an extensive wardrobe, but also meant only my underwear was bought new for me.

Every little girl I knew helped around the house, even these. Natasha always whined she had to help her mom cook dinner and wash up the dishes after. Seleen, s parents owned the town’s only drug store, but you could find her dusting shelves. Allia, s parents were both doctors and she was the one who did the laundry and vacuumed the floors at home.

I had no idea who cleaned Rigorio, s great house, or who would wash these brand new clothes I was wearing. The grounds of his house inside the walls covered a greater space than my school. Who tended all those flowers and cut all that grass?

I was beginning to realize I was not so badly off after all. Maybe a little pain mixed with a little pleasure was not a bad trade for a life of relative leisure.

The bell went off and we all lined up to march in.

Once in my room, I found my seat and the class began. After giving out some deskwork, my teacher, Mrs. Natalie, called me to the front. She was young, pretty and had a trim athletic build. She was a new teacher in our school from the west and we all liked her very much, especially the girls.

“You appear to be none the worst off for living with Rigorio.” She noted. As her eyes took in my new expensive attire.

“Your mother phoned and informed me of your new situation. Asking me to inquire every day if you are OK. So are you?”

“He works me real hard and yells at me a whole lot.” I replied. “But he feeds me well and I have a great big lock on my bedroom door. I added.”

Why I did not add, “For which I do not have the key, he keeps me chained up like a dog and I am hand fed like one.” I did not think of till later.

“He lets you come to school.” She noted. “So if you did not like being there you simply do not come back on the school bus one day.”

“I never thought of that.” I replied. “So everyday I get to decide if I want to go back?”

“If you train something. You can never call it yours until you let it go and it comes back to you.” She noted as she scooted me back to my desk.

Being a very naive eight year old at the time. It never occurred to me to question why she used exactly the same phrase as he had, to describe my new situation.

At lunch, we were all surprised when the teacher wheeled in a big plastic cooler and handed each of us a half litre bottle of milk.

"Rigorio has arranged for each of the schools students to receive one at lunch everyday." She whispered to me as she handed me one. "So everyone is benefiting from your new situation."

The rest of the day went on as usual in any grade school. The communist regime had disappeared and we are again one country. But nothing much had changed in our daily lives.

But for the first time I began to compare myself to the rest of my classmates eating their lunch at their desks around me. Most had only a limited wardrobe; even the girls and their lunch mainly composed of something on two pieces of home baked bread from a paper bag. The milk Rigorio was providing, replacing the tap water just about everyone else drank at lunch

Mine came in a separate square metal lunchbox adorned with that American doll Barbie’s face. And contained a chrome flask with a screw off lid holding a meat and potatoes stew. For an after lunch treat, one of the largest oranges I had ever seen. I shard out the orange slices, keeping only one slice for myself. Our town was the hub of an extensive agricultural area. But even here, fruit was only available in season.

I knew even under his harsh regime, I was still better off than I would have been if I had said no to his offer. I had been one of those eating something slapped between to pieces of bread I had made myself. After I had helped my mother bake the bread first, that is.

My New Life Ever After

He was standing there at the gate when I stepped off the bus. That day and everyday I returned from school after that, he said the same thing.

”Thank you for coming back.”

He followed me as I walked up the drive and back into the house. I think I surprised him that first day when I lifted up and placed the choke chain around my neck and the cuffs around my wrists behind my back, as I was to do every day after school from then on.

Only that one time he inquired. “Why?” And I replied. “ I really do want to become one of those girls you showed me in those videos.”

He then led me up into my bedroom where he sat me down at a table with a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. Then proceeded to go over what I had taken in school that day, making sure I understood it all. That too becoming part of our daily routine on my schooldays.

After that he stood me up and stripped off my new clothes. I was allowed to pee and he wiped me with a soft damp cloth. Next came dinner fed to me on my knees followed by the usual blowjob as payment and then he led me back into the gym.

The daily sequences of events in my life were set, and they would never change one iota as long as I lived under his thumb.