Silent
H.  Jekyll

MF, Mf, Ff, bdsm, nc, some scat:  story codes refer to the series, 
not to specific chapters.

Chapter Three:  Domination

"Can you be an obedient little girl?"  She finally noticed that he was talking.  
She was hardly there, but she did try to nod.  Did she?  He was saying 
something she couldn't follow.  Someone's shoulders hurt.  She didn't notice 
the shit anymore.  

She did notice that he was scrubbing her with a warm, wet cloth.  He washed her 
face gently, and when she smelled the water she tried to touch it with her 
tongue.  "Don't do that!  It's filthy."  She tried to keep her tongue in her 
mouth, to resist the moisture.  Oh, it was so alluring.  She managed to keep 
her mouth closed while he washed her hair.

She wasn't there again, then was again and found that her legs were untied.  
Her arms were being loosened.  She fell outright this time, pulling her arms 
up, screamed the most beautifully agonized scream, and passed out again.  

When she came around this time she was again lying on a bed or something, but 
she was spread-eagled, her arms bound to two corners and her legs to the 
others.  She was blindfolded and ear-plugged, but the gag was gone.  Her 
shoulders hurt but she wasn't tied rigidly.   

Primarily she was crazy for water.  She couldn't swallow.  When she moved her 
tongue in her mouth it came away dry.  She kept opening and closing her mouth, 
trying to get a feel of liquid.  Her lips were dry and chapped.  She writhed 
her body on the bed, passed out again, and awoke from a dream in which she was 
drinking and drinking the coldest water, but not slaking her thirst.  

It didn't matter what he had said about speaking.  She would ask for water.  
But she couldn't, not really.  The parts of her throat and mouth didn't move 
together as they should.  She finally whispered:  "wha-der."

He pulled out the ear plugs, to speak to her.  "I have water for you.  Open 
your mouth only a little."  

After her mouth was open he did something with a container, then bent over her.  
He pressed his mouth against hers hard, formed a seal, and blew a mouthful of 
water into her.  The breath of life.  She coughed, then swallowed and 
swallowed.  More!  He pulled his mouth away, then leaned back over and did it 
again.  She couldn't get enough.  That beautiful, despicable mouth!  After the 
second mouthful she reached for his mouth with hers when she felt him leaning 
close.  He kept his mouth on hers after she swallowed, and sucked on her 
tongue.  She moved her tongue against his, moved her lips over his.  Then he 
brought her more water, and they kissed again.  She didn't know what she was 
feeling.  After so long a time with no sensations except her pains, no vision 
and no hearing, a soft, wet tongue and lips were appetizing.  

He was gentle with her.  She felt grateful, and she didn't want it to stop, 
though she knew he was a demon.  She didn't know how to resist. 

He let her take as much water as she wanted, bending over her again and again, 
kissing deeply each time, until her stomach hurt with the pressure of the 
water.  

She heard some rustling and then felt him kneeling between her legs.  He began 
lubricating her vagina, taking a long time with labia, clitoris, her hole, 
pulling and caressing with more and more goop.  She started feeling pleasure 
and tried to hold herself still.  

He entered her with his big salami of a penis and began fucking very slowly.  
There was so much pressure in her, and as before his prick punched her cervix 
when he pushed all the way in.  She could not see him, or feel him with her 
hands, and her sex was where she was receiving stimulation.  

He began kissing her deeply again and she responded.  She had to, and she 
wanted to.  She sucked on his lips and let him have her tongue again and didn't 
try to draw it back when he bit it, though she made a sound somewhere between a 
moan and a cry when he did it.  This withholder and provider of water, this 
demon controller of misery and pleasure.  He played lightly with her nipples, 
tickled her arms very slowly, from her wrists to her arm pits, then licked her 
pits.  

She became hot.  She was afraid if he knew he was pleasuring her he would stop, 
but she was breathing fast into his mouth and now she was moving her hips 
against his. 

He came, pushing deeply into her while he did, then lay on her for a few 
minutes before pulling out of her.   

She lay quietly, hoping he would continue, do anything to keep the sensations 
going.  Her pussy felt empty, and she twitched her vagina, tried to move her 
thighs together, hoping for some sensation.  

Nothing.  He plugged her ears, turned on the white noise machine, and left.  

--------------------------------------------------------------------

She was alone in the dark and silence a long time again.  He left her long 
enough for her desire to evaporate slowly, long enough for her to wonder if he 
would ever return, to go through two panic periods in which she struggled with 
her bonds and screamed unanswered cries for him;  long enough to drift into 
sex-filled dreams in which her husband was fucking her but then turned into her 
captor, who fucked her and fucked her until she was almost coming.  

She was alone long enough for her stomach to begin working.  How long since 
she'd eaten?  Two days?  Three days?  Now she grew sick with hunger, her 
stomach hurt, desire for food overcame sexual desire.  Her dreams, during her 
drifting periods, were of banquets, filled with the smells of Thanksgiving.  
She writhed again, but for food.

When she awoke again her shoulders still ached.  He was leaning over her, 
pulling at her ear plugs again.  "Now you will have part of your punishment."  

She froze.  No.  But he starting whipping her with something flat.  

At first she merely jerked and said "oh" with each stroke, but as time wore on 
she lost her composure. She bounced her body on the bed, rolled as far as she 
could from side to side, screamed with each stroke.  She began begging him to 
stop, promising to be good.  He leaned over and told her that this would 
increase the punishment she earned.

He unfastened her arms, sat her up, then fastened them behind her.  

She was sobbing those hiccupy sobs again when he knelt down between her legs 
again.  His penis was at her mouth.  She took it in, even while sobbing, trying 
to remember how best to pleasure him.  The heat and meatiness of it and the 
fact that she could suck on it were good, and after a bit she stopped sobbing.  
When he came into her mouth, in the same copious quantities as before, she 
swallowed quickly, really just wishing there were more.  Then he fastened her 
in her original position, inserted the ear plugs, whipped her some more, and 
left.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

When next he came to her she felt she was dying.  Silly girl!  She was only in 
misery.  He completely loosened her, then fastened her hands together behind.  
She needed food.  She needed water.  She was afraid to say anything, actually 
to make any sounds at all.  He led her to the exercise room and made her run 
the treadmill, hitting her with a crop to keep her going, so weak was she, 
until she stumbled off, lay on the floor gasping, and didn't respond to the 
crop any more.  Then he freed her hands and made her lift small weights in 
several different exercises.

He rechained her arms behind her, walked her to the bathroom again, let her 
drink from the toilet again, then washed and shaved her.  He gave her another 
enema but let her empty herself in the toilet.  It was all water.

He led her to a room she hadn't seen before.  It looked like a well-appointed 
dining room.  The furniture was dark mahogany, and it sat on a rich Persian 
carpet.  He made her kneel by a chair at the table and wait, while he went to 
the next room.  By now all she could think about was food.  

Already she was becoming accustomed to being mastered.  How long ago was it - 
two or three days? - since she had thought she would rescue her poor daughter?  
Now she was just a poor, miserable captive herself, with no control over any 
part of her existence.  If he told her to eat shit, she did.  If he ordered her 
to suffer silently, she suffered silently.  If he wanted to hurt her beyond her 
ability to stand the pain, he had shown that it was easy.  If he wanted her to 
desire being fucked by him, she did that too, and it was for that, that she 
loathed herself the most .  Though she didn't really feel much loathing, just a 
deep, hollow gloom.  She was afraid to hate him.

And now she smelled something cooking!  Oh my God!  It was bacon and eggs.  Hot 
spattering grease and butter.  Then the smell of toast.  Coffee!  She had to 
make the strongest effort in her life to keep from crawling over to the door he 
had gone through.  Please don't torture me this way.

He came out with a tray filled with food, an enormous, steaming heap of 
scrambled eggs cooked with bits of bacon, toast with butter and preserves, a 
pitcher of orange juice, and coffee with cream and sugar.  He sat down and 
proceeded to eat right in front of her.  

She knelt rigidly upright, just like a dog who has been trained to sit pretty.  
She couldn't take her eyes off the food.  She smelled it with breaths so deep 
they made her dizzy.  But she didn't move and she didn't talk.  She thought 
that would please him.  She was right.

After a bit he dabbed his mouth and said, "You are learning to be obedient and 
disciplined.  It's time to let you eat a little."  He gestured for her to move 
right up to him and lean toward him.  He took a large mouthful of eggs.  He 
chewed them a bit, then leaned over to her.  He put his mouth on hers tightly, 
then pushed and spat a mush of bacon and eggs into her mouth.  

She could see what was coming and didn't care.  She took the eggs in, tasted 
them briefly, and swallowed.  It was just like with the water.  She wanted 
more.  

He took some orange juice and gave it to her the same way.  It had pulp and was 
sweet.  Masticated toast was next.  The taste of the butter lingered.  

His mouth.  Never had she desired a mouth on hers so much.  She sucked mashed 
eggs off his tongue and slurped them down.  She ran her tongue over his teeth 
to find bits she had missed.  When some coffee (rich with sugar and cream) 
dribbled down his chin she licked it off.  He gave her several mouthfuls of 
each item.  

Of course they kissed deeply between bites, which slowed down the eating.  It 
was not nearly enough, though already her stomach felt full.  Then he spoke.

"This is how you will eat.  Your food will come out of me.  If I am busy I will 
serve you something in a dog bowl.  If you are defiant, or stupid, you will not 
eat.  Do you have anything you want to say, now?"

To say?  She was flabbergasted.  She had never expected this.  She didn't know 
how to address him. He hadn't instructed her.  She finally decided that she 
should call him "master," to be safe.

"Master.  Is my daughter alive?  Will I see her?"

He chuckled and caressed her face, then a breast.  "Master?  That's a nice 
touch.  Of course your daughter's alive.  You'll see her in due time.  You need 
to earn that, by pleasing me.  Now we'll go back to your room"  

She had to ask him one more thing.  It might help her, but it might bring more 
pain.  She screwed up her wee courage and asked:  

"Why do you hurt me so much?"  

Her voice was high, soft, plaintive.  The voice of one who didn't want 
to offend.  

"I'll do anything you want.  I'll be good.  You don't have to do that."  

He stared down at her, a severe look to his face, and she shrank down within 
herself.

Then he smiled.  "Oh, we have a bold one, now.  Not one question, but two!"  
Her breath was fast and shallow.  "Well, I'll answer you.  It fills me with 
pleasure to hurt you, and your purpose is to provide my pleasure, so that's 
that.  But there are other reasons, too.  You have, first of all, several 
punishments unfulfilled, and we have some catching up to do.  There is, 
secondly, the fact that you will be more obedient if your memory of the bite of 
the whip, or whatever, is fresh, as you'll know it could always be worse."  

During this, her face had grown more and more grim, and her whole body had 
slumped.

"And finally, birthing has never been an easy process.  The new you that will 
come from this will be so much more willing and compliant, even eager to please 
and follow instructions.  You'll scarcely recognize yourself.  This is the 
hardest time for you, because you're still fighting against your need to submit 
completely and permanently.  But you'll come around.  You'll see.  And when you 
do you'll have pleasure that you never even dreamed about."

Nothing else was said.  There was hardly a need to.  He walked her back to her 
cell, in the middle of which were stocks.

