fs01 – Arc 1 – Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Mistress is out of town on business.  This puts Kimmy in charge.  This is both a blessing and a curse.  With Mistress gone, Kimmy has no reason to do things to get me in trouble.  I also have no protection against her.

Kimmy gets me dressed in my maid’s uniform.  She secures the locks and gag.  It’s an ordinary day.  I prepare her breakfast.  She eats.  I can eat when she chooses to remove my gag.  She chooses not to.  Kimmy’s hate has been less overt lately.  Ever since the day Dominique stopped by, she’s been different.  Less aggressive, more passive-aggressive.  Starving me is part of that.  For the past week she has pretty much ignored me.

“Hey, faggot slave, Mistress wants me to take you somewhere today.  Have my car ready in 15 minutes.  No coat for you.”

I do as I’m told.  Kimmy dresses on her own.  She stopped having me assist her the day after Dominique’s visit.

We walk to the car.  She pops the trunk and points.  I climb in.
“On your stomach, fucker.  Hands behind your back.”  She tugs at my wrists.  Kimmy’s never gentle.  A padlock closes, locking both wrists directly together and securing them to the back ring on the uniform’s belt.  A short chain connects my ankles.  She slams the trunk.

I see a faint light toward the front.  The back seat arm rest is down, so I won’t suffocate.  The leather cover blocks the heat from reaching the trunk.  I’m freezing.  We drive.  I bounce around with the turns and bumps in the road.  It’s cold.

I think about Mistress.  I wonder where Kimmy is taking me.  The ride continues.  I have no reference, but it feels like we’ve been driving for a long time.  We turn onto a dirt road.  My body buzzes and vibrates with the rumble of the car.  The car continues, makes a turn, and slows to a halt.

The faint trace of voices.  The passenger door opens, thunks, and closes.  The trunk opens.  My eyes squint in the bright light.  Two men dressed in black jumpsuits hover over me.  They yank me from the trunk.  Fear.  I struggle.  They’re strong.  A black van.  The rear gate opens.  Two more men dressed in black.  Terror.  The restraints hold.

They force me to sit at the back.  I protest behind the gag.  Rope wraps around my upper arms.  Layer after layer, around and around.  The ropes hurt, they’re tight.  The rope knots.  A man pushes me onto my back.  Another holds my torso down.

“Scan him.”
A man hovers an electronic sensor over me.  It reaches my belt and beeps.
“New model CB.  X-series.”
He fidgets with the waist band.  I hear a click.
“GPS tracking chip, active.
“Throw it out,” this is a woman’s voice.  He tosses it out the door.

Rope twists around my legs.  Around and around, from ankle to thigh.  I can’t move at all.  They flip me onto my stomach.  I look up and see the woman observing from the front passenger seat.  A black bag covers my head.  Ear mufflers over the bag.  I’m deaf, blind, and helpless.  I feel someone sit on my back.

Miss Dominique was wrong.  If ‘true fear’ exists, this is it.  Mistress, where are you?

The van drives.  I see nothing.  I hear nothing.  My thoughts spin.  Mistress wanted this?  I feel sick.  Another fear crawls deep into my heart.  Have I been sold?  Mistress.  I weep.

We drive for a time.  The van slows to a halt.

I feel hands on me.  I’m being carried.  They aren’t gentle.  The mufflers fall off.

“Get him prepped!”  The woman’s voice again.  I’m afraid.

I feel us go down some stairs.  I’m slammed on my stomach on a metal table.  The ropes loosen.

“Do we have keys?”
“What the fuck, man?”
“Get the cutters.”

I’m pressed down tight.  I hear a clank and my wrists come loose.  I thrash.  Hands firmly grip my wrists.  They flip me onto my back.  A strap covers my neck.

“The boots won’t come off!”

A hand presses firmly on my mouth through the bag.
“Hold very still or this will really hurt you.”  I sob.  I follow their directions.  A tearing sound.
I feel the first boot slide off.  The stocking is ripped off.  That ankle is secured by a strap.  More tearing.  The other boot and stocking are off.  Another strap.

“Get the sleeves off.”
“I can’t.”
“This is bullshit.”

The hand returns.  “Hold still unless you want to bleed.”
More tearing.  I feel the air on my skin as the dress is cut open.

“Look at this.”  He grabs my wrist.
“A padlock?  Who designed this thing.”

A clank.  My hand is forced up the sleeve.  They grab my other wrist.  Another clank.

“I can’t cut through the collar.”
“Flip the fur back.”
“Lift him up.”

Both arms are secured.  The neck strap loosens.  Hands on the back of my neck force me up.  The fur flips up on my neck.  Clank.  They tear the dress off of me.  I’m slammed back down.  The neck strap returns.  Straps over each wrist.  A strap over the waist.  I sob uncontrollably.  I can’t move.

“Notify the Mistress, 3.”
“On it.”

The hood comes off.  Light blinds me.  My eyes adjust slowly.  A woman stands at the foot of the table.  She’s older, looks in her 50’s.  She wears a cliche red leather “dominatrix” outfit.  A leather hat with a swastika.  A fur jacket covers her upper body.  A crop spins in her hand.   My eyes quiver with terror.  I mumble faint noises.  Mistress.  Where are you?

“What’s with that headgear?” she asks.
“I don’t know, Mistress.  His entire outfit was locked on with a strap system.” The voice is the one that goes by 3.  He’s the only one that speaks to her.
“With that kind of sissy outfit, I assume they wouldn’t want him removing it,” she laughs.  “Is the belt ready?”
“Yes, Mistress.  There’s no key.”
“I know 3, I was informed of that before I bought him.  But no matter, we don’t need to take it off.”

Sold.  The word echoes in my head.  I’ve been sold.  She approaches the table.  I cry.  Her hand grabs the head harness, forcing my head to face her.

“slave.  You are my property now.  I am Mistress Renee.  I bought you.  You are now 12.  You have no name, just a number in my stable.  You will NEVER speak to me.  3 is my alpha.  You will obey him and any communication to me is done through him.  You will now experience my favorite part of breaking a new slave.”

She nods.  Bodies move around me.  A bottle of “permanent metal cement” is held up in front of me.  Her hand extends a small piece of metal twisting it before my eyes.

Renee speaks.  “In 5 minutes, this belt will never come off, ever again.  No more orgasms, no more erections for the rest of your life.”
I sob.  Mistress.  Why?   The contents of the bottle fill the chastity belt’s keyhole.  The metal is placed on the hole.  3 hammers it in, completely jamming the lock.

The hands leave my body.  I buck against the restraints.  I shout into the gag.  No.  This can’t be happening.

“You know, 12, I love breaking a new slave.  I especially love watching the pain of severing the ties to the Mistress that abandoned you and molding you to my choosing.”  The crop slides across her crotch.

5 minutes have passed.  The belt is now a part of me.  I cry.

“Remove the head harness.”  I watch the bolt cutters move around me.  Clack, clack.  The harness and hat are pulled from my head.  My eyes dart around, taking in the new surroundings.

“Strap him to the X-frame.”

The table is wheeled into another part of the dungeon.  I’m roughly lifted and pinned against the frame.  Metal shackles close around my wrists and ankles.  A heavy piece of iron closes around my neck.  A large metal collar with a bell.  3 produces a belt.  I watch him coat the threads in the metal cement from the corner of my eye.  3 and another man take up some large wrenches.  They tighten the nut onto the bolt, sealing the collar closed.

“Strip it,” she orders.  3 adjusts his wrench.  He move it back and forth while the other holds firm.  I hear the grinding of metal.  They trade spots and repeat.  More grinding.  I look over my shoulder.  They stripped the heads on the bolt and nut, rounding them off.  It will never open again.

Mistress Renee sits on a chair.  A slave crouches in front of her.  She places her legs on his back.  She speaks.  “Your life here will be harsh and hard.  You will labor for me.  Everything is a privilege you will need to earn with backbreaking work.  Clothing?  Earned.  Meals?  Earned.  Sleeping indoors?  Earned.  A blanket?  Earned.  I reward everything and I can take everything away.  Is that clear, 12?”

“Yes, Mistress.”  I cry out as 3 punches me in the ribs.
“Is that clear?”  I nod.  My eyes tear.
“Proceed, 3.  Do watch the kidneys, a doctor is costly.”

3 has donned a bull whip.  Crack, the first strike bites into my back.  I scream.  Crack.  The second strike lands.  I wail.

“Who do you serve?” he shouts.  I don’t answer.  Crack.  I bawl.
“Who do you serve?”
“Mistress Cassandra.”
“Wrong answer!”  Crack.  “Who do you serve?”
“Mistress Cassandra!” I bellow between sobs.
“Wrong answer, slave!”  Crack.  “Who do you serve?”
“Mistress…” 3 pauses.
“Cassandra.”  Crack.

My body shakes under the blows.  Chains rattle.  My collar rings.  My back burns.

Crack.  I shriek.
“Who do you serve?”
“Mistress Cassandra”  Crack.  My voice breaks, barely indistinguishable from my cries.  I love her, my Mistress.  I promise I won’t break.
“Who do you serve?”
“Misrs Cassnra.”  Crack.  I feel blood flowing down my back.
“Who do you serve?”
“Mrsrsr Cassnra.”

Renee speaks.  “12 is a stubborn one, 3.   Work the legs and ass.”

[Mistress Cassandra’s hotel room]

The phone rings.
“Hello, Dom, this is a surprise.  I’m out of town right now on business.”
“I know, Cass.  Your cell was off, I tried calling your office.”
“Sorry about that, Dom, I’ve been relaxing.  This trade show is exhausting.”
“Cass… I think something’s not right.  Have you talked to Kimmy or fs today?”
“No, Dom, my phone was off.  They could have only gotten this number if they called the office or T.”
“Cass, did you give Kimmy permission to sell fs?”
“What?  No, I would never…”
“Kimmy called me earlier today, offering him to me for $10,000.  I thought she was joking.  I told her I’d think about it.  When I called her later, she blocked my number. I’ve been trying to reach you ever since.”
“I need to call you back, Dom.”
“Okay, Cass, keep me updated.”

Mistress hangs up the phone.  She turns on her cell and dials home. Kimmy answers.

“Mistress, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day.  fs ran away.”
“What, Kimmy?”
“He said he couldn’t handle this life anymore.  He stole some clothes and left.  I couldn’t stop him.”
“I’m coming home early.”

Mistress hangs up the phone.  She calls Theresa.
“Hey, Cass, how’s the trade show?”
“T, I need you to get me a flight home.  Tonight.  Whatever you have to do.  I don’t care.  Charter me a plane if you have to.”
“Slow down, Cass, what’s wrong?”
“T, I think Kimmy sold fs.  She says he ran away, but you know him.”
“He’d sooner die than leave you.  I’ll see what I can do.  I’ll call Lisa, too.”
“Thank you, T, keep Dom in the loop as well.  She let me know.  Call me.”

Mistress hangs up.  She calls Dominique.
“Bad news, Cass.  Look at powerxchange.com.  For sale ads from this morning.  Username: Kimmyslut69.  That’s your zip code.”
“Dom, what should I do?”
“Stay calm, Cass.  If anyone can figure it out, you can.  I’ll be here if you need me.  Let’s rally the troops.  I’ll get on the line with the club owners and group heads, see if they have any leads. Keep me updated.”

Mistress hangs up.  Lisa calls her phone.
“Miss Cassandra, I heard from T.  I’ve got you on a red eye that leaves in 2 hours.  You’ll land at 5am.  I’ll be there to pick you up.  T is getting our P.I.’s working on it.  Call me if you need me.”
“Thank you, Lisa.”

Mistress looks up powerxchange.com on her tablet and goes to the classifieds.
“Feminized male slave for sale.  30’s.  Single.  Chaste, well-trained, obedient, and a fast learner.  STD free.  Female or male doms welcome.  $10,000 obo.  Cash only.  Must sell ASAP.”

There are a few replies asking for pictures and if it’s delivery or pickup.

She sends the address to Theresa and sends a text.
“T.  Get access to the messages, ip’s, whatever.  Threaten a lawsuit. Find him.  I’m getting on a plane soon.”
[An hour later in Mistress Renee’s dungeon]

She speaks.  “He’s unconscious, huh.  I’m surprised by his resilience.  By the end all he could say was ‘mrrer crra.’”

I play possum as I dangle from the shackles.  Marks, bruises, and cuts cover my back, legs, ass, and arms.  Blood flows.  I promise, Mistress, I won’t break.

“Bastinado, Mistress?” asks 3.
“A fine choice, 3.”

I feel multiple hands on my body.  The shackles release.  Patience.  I stay limp as they lift me off the frame.  My body hurts.  Desperation. I thrash and break free of their grip.  I run.  A jolt.  My leg buckles and I tumble to the floor.  The muscles cramp and spasm.  I scream.

“Everyone take a prod,” directs Renee.

Soon I’m surrounded.  Shocks from the cattle prods rain down on me.  I thrash and wail.  My body shakes, out of control.  The shocks stop.  I lay limp on the floor.  Lesson learned.  They bind my hands behind me and bind my upper arms.  More rope around my legs.  I feel like a mummy.  They carry me to another part of the room.  Mistress.  I want to see you.

They tie another rope around my ankles and thread it through a metal eye on the ceiling. Two others pull and hoist me up.  My head and shoulder support the rest of my body weight.

“Start with an hour, 3.”
“Yes, Mistress.”

3 doesn’t speak this time.  He calmly and brutally begins to strike the bottoms of my feet with the cane.  I shriek, scream, and wail with every blow.  Sobs.  The pain doesn’t stop.  It reverberates through my entire body, my soul.  Mistress, where are you?  My feet feel like they’re blistered and burning.  It continues.  I can’t even struggle.  This is hell.

“Who do you serve?”
“Misrss Cassnra.”

“My you are stubborn, 12.” says Renee.  “Submit and the pain will stop.”
3 kicks me in the stomach.  I retch.

“Switch to the baton, 3.  Try not to break his bones.”

[On the plane]

Mistress checks her messages.
“Cass, no luck yet.  I will keep digging. -Dom”

“Cass, things are in motion.  Working on it as hard as I can.  Don’t worry, we’ll find him.  -T”

“Miss Cassandra, I will be there when your plane lands and ready to take you anywhere.  -Lisa”

[An hour or so later in Mistress Renee’s dungeon]

I feel dead.  My eyes are dead.  I hurt all over.  My feet feel broken.  Everything burns.  Muscles ache.  I didn’t break.  Mistress.  I love you.  Where are you?

They let me down and untie my ropes.  Heavy shackles bind my hands behind me.  Another set around my ankles.

They force me to my knees in front of Renee.

“12, your resistance is meaningless.  Your Mistress gave you away.  No one is coming for you.  No one cares.  No one knows you are here.  Your belt has been sealed.  You are basically a eunuch.  No one will ever love you.  If they did, you wouldn’t be here.”

I sob.  It feels like crying is all I know anymore.

“We will hurt you.  Over and over.  Pain.  That all can stop.  Submit.  Submit and we’ll clean you up and feed you and you can start your new life.”

3 Kicks me in the face.  I topple.  Blood flows from my lip and nose.

“Impudent.  Gag him and put him in the punishment cage for the night.  We’ll continue tomorrow.   Prep the branding iron in the morning.  That should take some of the fight out of him.”

They drag me through a door.  A plain room with smooth concrete walls.  Moonlight shines on the wall.  They force me to my knees and shove me into the cage.  It’s tiny, barely large enough to fit a person.  They lock the gate behind me.  I feel a prick on my arm.  A metal spike.  Blood.  I shift away.  Another prick.  More blood.  I look carefully.  Each of the bars is covered in sharp spikes a few inches apart.  If I move, I bleed.

The wind howls.  I shiver.  A prick.  I look up as far as I can.  I’m in a concrete prison 2 stories down.  There’s no ceiling so I’m technically outdoors.  I’m freezing.  Apparently the privilege of sleeping indoors is no joke.  The wind howls.  Mistress.  I’m sorry, Mistress.  Did you really sell me?  I love you.

[5am.  The airport pickup area]

Theresa speaks first.
“Cass, we threatened the site owners with human trafficking charges if they didn’t give up the info.  They folded quickly.  Kimmy corresponded with someone from the XYZ area code and agreed to meet up for a sale.  No response to calls.  Their IP address was from the same metro area.  That’s one state over, about a 4 hour drive.”
“Thank you, T, you’re a life-saver.”
“Our P.I.s have been working non-stop.  We tracked the GPS chip in his chastity belt.  The buyer must have dumped it.  It turned up in an empty lot about 5 miles from the state border, consistent with the area code.”
“GPS… I totally forgot…”
“Dom asked me about it.  She said the newer X-series belts had them standard.  I contacted the manufacturer and got the information we needed.  Dom has been up all night making calls, Cass.  We have a potential name of a Domme in that area.  She has a large farm estate with lots of slaves.  Our P.I.s are working on an address.”
“Where to first, Miss Cassandra?” asks Lisa.
“Home first, Lisa.”
“Dom’s on her way there, too, Cass.”

A while later they arrive at home.  Dom is already there.  Mistress and Theresa exit the vehicle.  Dominique joins them, accompanied by Sammy and Gordon who are dressed presentably for once.

“Lisa, I need you to go to the shop,” she hands Lisa a piece of paper.  “This is the combination to the safe in my office.  There is $50,000 in cash in there.  I need you to bring it here.  I’m counting on you.”
“Yes, Miss Cassandra.  You can count on me.”  Lisa drives away.

They enter the house.  Mistress storms into the bedroom.  A dozen boutique shopping bags line the floor.

“Kimmy, where is he?”  Kimmy jolts awake.
“Where is fs?”
“Mistress, I told you, he ran away.  I have no idea where he is.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Kimmy.  You sold him.  To who?  Where is he?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mistress?”  she rubs her eyes, unconcerned.

Mistress slaps Kimmy across the face.
“Do NOT, lie to me.”
“What the fuck?  Get your hands off of me.  I’m not lying.”
“You little bitch, I know you’ve been lying to me ever since you moved in.  Did you think you were fooling me?  I let it slide because you only lied about fs, and I know he can handle it.  But don’t you dare lie about this.”
“Yeah, I sold him.  So what?  Male subs are a dime a dozen, you can find a new one any time you want.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.  I met up with someone a couple of hours a way.  I didn’t ask, they didn’t tell.”
“What gives you the right to do that?”
“Because you just used me, Mistress.  You fucking used me.  You told me that you loved me but you just wanted another Domme to boss around your faggot slave.”
“Kimmy… I never used you.  I did love you.  I gave you free reign to do what you wanted.  I made you cum 20 times a day, every day.  You betrayed my trust.”
“You know what?  I don’t need this shit.  To tell you the truth, I used you.  You’re rich.  I like money.  You could get me a job.  You’re just an ugly, lonely, old bag.  I used you.  I’m hot.  I deserve someone closer to my age, someone that’s hot, like me.  Stuffy old bitch, thinking you’re all elegant and in control and shit.  You don’t even know how to have fun.  Your ugly face and your wrinkled up cooch can have a good time playing house and pretending to be in love with your faggot slave.”

Mistress is in tears.
“Get out!  Get the fuck out!  Get out of my house!  Get out of my life!”
Kimmy packs a suitcase.  She throws her house key on the floor, gathers up her bags and storms out.
She mumbles under her breath as she leaves, “fucking whore.”

Dominique is outside the bedroom door as she passes.
“Watch yourself, little one.  I am going to fuck you up.  I will ruin you.  You will never be able to show your face in this town ever again.”  Dominique laughs as she rubs herself.   Kimmy turns and stares.
“Is that supposed to scare me, you old bag?”
“I’d be happy to teach you about ‘true fear,’ little one.”
Kimmy leaves in a hurry, slamming the door behind her.

T bursts in.
“Cass, we have an address.  Lisa just returned.”
Mistress is sprawled on the bed crying.  T embraces her.
“Cass, I love you, but pull yourself together.  There’s more important things to worry about.”
“Thank you, T.  We’ll take my car.  If Dom is willing, have her take her car, too.”

[8am.  Mistress Renee’s dungeon]

They unlock the cage door.  I haven’t slept a wink.  If I dozed at all the spikes did their job.  I feel like I’m dying.  I’m chilled to the core.  My arms and legs feel like they’re on fire.  I can barely stay conscious.  I have a fever.  I’m sad.

They strap me to the X-frame for another session.  Mistress watches.  My face is swollen, it hurts to move my mouth.

“Who do you serve?”
“Mithrth Cthndra”  Crack.  I howl.  Fresh blood.
“Who do you serve?”
“Mrth Cth.”  Crack.  I pass out.

I jar awake.  Water splashing.  Another bucket full.  It’s freezing.  It stings.  I weep.  My mouth doesn’t make words, just sounds.

“I don’t understand, 12, why do you resist?  No one is coming for you.  If they were, they would have been here by now.  Mistress Cassandra has betrayed you.  Submit to me and this will end.”
3 drives his knee into my back.  I flail.  “Know your place, slave!” he shouts.
“No.”  I receive a kick to the back of the thigh.

“Don’t waste your energy, 3.  Give him 10 more lashes, don’t bother asking questions.  7, are the coals ready yet?”

A man walks up to 3 and whispers something.
“They’ll be ready in about 10 minutes, Mistress,” responds 3.
“Make it 20 more lashes then.”

The whip bites my skin.  He’s hitting harder now.  Fresh blood with every strike.  I fall limp and take it.  The crying doesn’t stop.  The lashes stop.  I can’t move.  My feet are too bruised to support my weight.  The shackles dig into my wrists.  My hands tingle.

The one called 7 and another man drag over a fire pit.  The coals are glowing brightly.  A long piece of metal with a padded handle extends out from it.  I can smell the char.  I panic.  I’m helpless.

“Where would you like it, Mistress?”
“Hrm… in the center… lower back… above or below the belt?  7, fetch me a coin.”

I want to run.  I want to get away.  I’m sorry, Mistress. They are going to break me.  I’m not sure what is worse, the fear or the sadness.  7 returns with a coin.

“Heads above, tails below.”  Renee flips the coin, letting it land on the floor.  It pings and bounces spinning, before reaching a stop.”
“It’s heads, Mistress.”
“Above it is.  Try for about an inch above the waist band, 3”
“Yes, Mistress.”

My neck is turned as far as it will go.  3 raises the tool from the fire.  A backwards R glows red hot at the end of the rod.  3 walks toward me.

“No!  No!  No!  Nooooooo!”

The metal sears into my flesh.  I scream, wail, the pain.  The smell of burning flesh.  The sizzle.  My body shakes, dangling against the shackles.  It stops.

I slump.  My heart beats in my back. Throb, throb, throb.  I sob.

“Who do you serve?” booms 3’s voice.

“Leave him, 3, he’s more stubborn than I could have imagined.  Let him hang there for a while while I think up another strategy.”

A chime.  Renee looks startled.  The doorbell.
“Answer the door, 3.”  He walks out of the room. He returns quickly.

“Mistress, there’s a group of people here looking for 12, saying he was kidnapped.”
“Did you tell them anything?”
“No, Mistress, but they are waiting upstairs.”

[9:15am Mistress Renee’s front hall]

Renee enters.  Mistress, Theresa, Lisa, Dominique, Sammy, and Gordon are waiting.

“Hello, I’m Renee.  I’ve heard you’re searching for a kidnap victim.”
“Hello, Renee.  I’m Cassandra.  My slave was kidnapped and sold to someone yesterday.  Our leads brought us here.”
“I haven’t kidnapped anyone, Cassandra.  I’ve just been doing business as usual.”
“I would never accuse you of kidnapping, Renee.  It was my former sub that kidnapped him. She did not have the authority to sell him.  It’s not your fault that you didn’t know that.”
“I paid a lot of money for a slave yesterday.  I’ve also spent countless hours in transportation and training already. The buying price was $10,000.  Are you willing to reimburse me for that plus my time investment?”

Mistress throws a dufflebag onto the floor at Renee’s feet.
“$50,000 in cash for his return.”  Renee motions to 3.  3 opens the bag.  It’s loaded with stacks of bills.”
“That’s a lot of money.  I doubt that all of my slaves combined are worth that.  You must really want him badly.”
“Yes, he was my first and is my best.  Do we have a deal?”
“He’s all yours.  3, fetch 12.  I will warn you, Cassandra, he might not be in as good of condition as you remember him and I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

I’m unchained and dragged up stairs.  They dump me face first on the floor.  I’m dying.  One eye is closed from swelling.  I look up with my good eye.

“Oh my God, pet, what have they done to you?”  She sprints and kneels by my side.  Her eyes go over my body.  Marks and broken skin, everywhere.  Bruises, everywhere.  The R burned into my flesh.  She cries.

“I really am sorry about the misunderstanding, Cassandra.  I’m not sure how it is in your parts, but here, our slavery is real.  We buy and sell and the new Mistress breaks them.  That’s usually part of the fantasy for them.  12 here was incredibly difficult.  This slave was so devoted to you.   We tried breaking him for hours.  The whip.  Bastinado.  He slept outside in a tiny cage.  Even branding.  He refused to submit to me.  I’m glad you two could be reunited.  You should be proud of him.”

Theresa speaks, “Lisa, please get the first aid kit from the car.”
Dominique steps in, “Sammy, Gordon, please get fs to Cass’s car.”

“He’ll need food and water soon.  We haven’t given him either since he got here.  It’s part of the breaking process.”

Sammy and Gordon prop me up and carry me.  They place me on my stomach on the back seat of Mistress’s SUV.  Theresa and Mistress apply ointment to the cuts on my back, arms, and legs, covering the large ones with gauze.  They do the same with the burn on my back.  Mistress lays my face on an ice pack and pours some water into my mouth.  Theresa presses her hand against my head.

“He’s burning up, Cass.  I’ll call the doctor and have her meet us at your place in a few hours.”
Lisa speaks, “I’m calling medical and homeopathic supply stores.  I’ll find someone who can deliver a massage table by this afternoon.  That will be more comfortable to lay on while his burn heals.”
“Thank you so much, everyone, I couldn’t have done this without all of you,” says Mistress.

Mistress takes off her coat and climbs into the back seat with me.  She has her robe on.  She gently eases my head onto her lap.  I smell her.  I love her.  My Queen.  My Goddess.  Mistress throws her coat over me despite protests from the others.  She tells them she doesn’t care if it gets ruined as long as I am warm.

The ice and water have helped the swelling of my mouth and face.  I weep.
“What’s wrong, pet?”
“I’m sorry, Mistress.  I’m so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for, pet?  None of this is your fault.”
“I’m deformed, Mistress… disfigured.  I’m sorry your slave is so ugly now.  I’m so sorry.”
She cries.
“Don’t be stupid, pet.  I love you no matter what.”
“Mistress, I love you.  I waited for you to find me and you did.  I love you so much.”

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