Chapter 81 - Three Hundred Ninety Seven

 

Carmella was overwhelmed. Despite seeing the reality on the screen in front of her she was still stunned by the reality of it. She had thought about the possibility that he might have freed her, but she hadn't really accepted the idea that she might be right. Now, seeing the reality displayed on the computer screen, she was in mild shock. Regardless, she was nimble on her mental feet and she was used to dealing quickly and rationally with unexpected, even devastating news. This wasn't exactly devastating, it was exactly the opposite, but it was of that magnitude. Very quickly she calmed her initial runaway emotions as she settled her mind to deal with the changed situation. She needed to decide how to react, making the most beneficial decisions she could. Now that she was back in control of her life she needed to plan in order to take maximum advantage of the few extra hours she hadn't expected to have.

Her first thought was the need to understand why Craig had done what he had done. It didn't take too much thought before it all fell into place with crystal clarity. To confirm her thinking she looked more closely at the screen in front of her to find a needed bit of data. She wanted to know exactly when she had been freed. That wasn't hard to find, it was rather prominently displayed. He had done it yesterday afternoon. She wasn't positive about the precise timing of all the events, but it made perfect sense that since he had gone back to the house before she had been given to Vid and Ralph, that he had freed her then. The timing was close enough for that theory to be considered validated.

It took only a few seconds of further thought for her to see and appreciate the subtlety of the trap he had created. What she had thought of as the ridiculous, almost loutish, demand that she act as though she were free, she now realized was a masterstroke. By having started that a few days ago he had... successfully, she now admitted with chagrin... conditioned her and blinded her to the real intent of that ploy. When he 'gave' her to the other two, by acting free she had become the perfect dupe and the recordings of her actions would be unchallengeable in court when they were used to defend her permanent enslavement. Obviously then, she further realized, her actions in his bed tonight created another nail in that coffin. That was why he had left her unmolested when she demurred from another session of sex. For him to do anything else would have been rape. And obviously he needed one more incident of using her pussy. Three times was within the law; she knew that. He had those and only needed a fourth. She was sure that he intended for that to happen in the morning. She was equally sure that it never would.

She was undecided about how to handle the next few hours. She knew she could, with total impunity, walk out the door right now. But right now it was dark outside, a little chilly for a naked woman, and taking as much as a dress or a coat could be construed as stealing and that would result in her enslavement. Besides, she was tired and could use a few hours of sleep. That settled her mind. Adopting a 'fuck it' attitude, she retraced her steps and went back to his bed to do nothing more than sleep.

She woke hours later feeling almost rested, quite irate, and a little hungry. She opened her eyes to see him looking at her. He smiled and reached for her, his intentions obvious: he wanted his morning pussy. She shied away from his hand, rolled over and told him to fuck himself, because she wanted to sleep for another hour, then to have a slave bring her breakfast in bed. She rattled off a large breakfast order, specifying precisely what she wanted and how she wanted it. Then she closed her eyes again, not worrying what he might think or how he would react. She expected him to be a good little boy and let her sleep.

Craig was more than a little confounded by Carmella's reaction. She sounded too self-assured to be following his order to act like a free woman. She sounded supremely confident, but where had that confidence come from? He puzzled over that for a minute then concluded that since she knew she was going to be freed today, that he wouldn't do anything to really punish her, so she could get away with being bitchy. If she were still a slave she would have found herself back on the rack, apologizing profusely for her snippy outburst between screams of pain. But she wasn't a slave, so there was very little he could do in retaliation. He decided to go along with her demands and get the fourth recording later. The rack would still be there when she was his slave again. He was awake for the day so he left the bed and allowed her to get the sleep she wanted.

When the hour was up he sent Brenda in to wake her. Brenda approached the sleeping form as quietly as she could. When Carmella was within reach she shook the still sleeping woman violently, awakening her in the rudest, harshest manner she could. Carmella twisted away from the offending hand that woke her and snapped at Brenda, telling her to get away. Brenda was only too happy to obey that order so without a word she turned to head back out of the room. Before she got too far Carmella called after her and told her to stop. She stopped and turned back to see what the irate woman wanted. When Brenda just stood looking bored Carmella knew she had to say something.

"Get over here, get on your knees and apologize to me for being so rude. And while you're on your knees you can lick my pussy in apology."

Brenda smirked when she gave her response. "Fuck off." She turned again to leave.

Carmella responded hotly, "You're a slave and I'm a free woman. I gave you an order so you best obey before I give you a punishment that you'll never forget. And when you're done licking me I want my breakfast."

Brenda tilted her head slightly as though giving the matter deep, serious thought. "You're quite right, I forgot my place. You're free and I'm a slave, so go fuck yourself, ma'am. As for your breakfast, it's in the kitchen, get it yourself." This time Brenda didn't bother to stop and turn around when Carmella called to her. Instead, all she did was hold her arm outstretched out behind her with the middle finger of her hand raised.

Earlier, Craig had found his computer running and displaying Carmella's slave page. He knew none of his slaves would have accessed that page so it had to have been done by Carmella. Whether by accident or as a conscious act, she had left the computer running proving that she knew she was free, and that explained her earlier attitude. Since the cat was out of the bag, all he could do now was alert his slaves to the fact that she was free. In doing that he also told them that they didn't have to obey any order she gave. They all knew about his plan to enslave her using the more than three in thirty law and that it was now completely busted. There was no way in hell he would be able to even get close to her, let alone record her while having sex.

After she finished her shower, Carmella went straight to the slave's bedrooms hunting for something to wear that would cover her decently. She found one of Amanda's old bathrobes and put that on. Then she went downstairs to get something to eat. Once again she was met with stony silence.

Most of the slaves had finished their breakfasts and had already departed so there was room at the table. She sat, expecting that Sasha would get up to serve the breakfast she had ordered. When Sasha got up and left she didn't go into the kitchen, so plainly she wasn't going to serve anything. Among the slaves remaining at the table, Carmella figured Alex would be her best bet because Alex was a great cook and was used to serving her. She called Alex's name, causing the slave to look over at her. When they made eye contact Carmella brusquely ordered Alex into action by saying, "I gave my breakfast order to Brenda. Go fix it for me and be quick about it, I want to get out of this place."

Alex answered with her voice heavy with disgust. "Eat shit. I'm not cooking anything for you."

Craig hid his amusement at the byplay, sipping his coffee while he scanned the newspaper in front of him. Stung by Alex's insulting rebuff, Carmella turned to him and with barely controlled anger demanded that he order Alex into the kitchen to prepare her breakfast. She added that she would handle Alex's punishment after she had eaten.

Without looking up from his newspaper, Craig softly said, "Eat shit. I'm not ordering her to do anything for you." He sipped his coffee then added, "If you want something to eat fix it yourself. And by the way, you'll have to pay for breakfast, it's not free anymore."

Carmella laughed at that, thinking he would try to get into her pussy with that lame idea. To prove it to herself she asked what the price of breakfast was. His answer of either a blowjob or ten dollars surprised her. Ten dollars meant nothing to her; she had over five hundred dollars in her purse. It was the symbolism of the act, not the amount of money that mattered. She almost turned him down but then thought it would look like he had bested her if he was able to dissuade her so easily. She decided to show him up by preparing her own breakfast, make a mess in the kitchen in the process, then 'tip' him by tossing a fifty dollar bill on the table and tell him to keep the change.

She had not cooked for herself in many, many years. She was terrible at it, but she made a very impressive mess in the process. As she went into the kitchen she was very unsure what she should attempt to make. Eggs were the obvious choice but they were too easy and didn't require anything more than one saucepan to dirty. Pancakes on the other hand would be far more appropriate. She found a box of pancake mix, read the instructions and decided that she could handle it. She spilled pancake mix on the counter and the floor; dropped still-dripping eggshells on the counter and splashed orange juice as she poured it.

She made enough pancake batter to feed three or four people, then cooked three for herself. Those, along with two eggs and a few strips of bacon were put on a plate while the unused batter dripped from the edge of the bowl on the counter and the unused bacon and eggs were left out also. She carried her breakfast into the dining room and ate most of it, then pushed the plate aside to leave it for someone else to clean up. Done with her meal she had only one desire and that was to get out of the house and on her way. To that end, and in a voice filled with rancor, she said to Craig, "I don't know where you hid my things, so have one of your slaves get them for me and I'll leave."

Craig looked up at her, appearing slightly puzzled. "What things do you mean?"

She spat hotly, "You know damn well what things I mean. The clothes I was wearing when I got here and my purse."

Craig knew this day, and indeed this conversation, were coming, so he had prepared for it by prepping the slaves and secreting Carmella's things where she would never find them. He was looking forward to having some final fun at Carmella's expense.

Craig looked over at Rita. "Where is all that stuff?"

Rita answered smugly, enjoying the fact that she was lying with his blessings. "You would never allow us to wear that dress, so we threw it out. Well, not exactly. We gave the dress and shoes to the thrift store in town. The purse might have gone there too, although KD was thinking of using it to carry tools in, so maybe not."

Swallowing her fury as best she could, Carmella still hissed more than spoke. "That ensemble cost me over twenty five hundred dollars, and you gave it to a thrift store?"

Rita answered smugly. "Yeah, we did. Even if master would have allowed any of us to wear it, it was so tacky and ugly that none of us would have anyway. The lady in the thrift store sorta turned her nose up at it, but since it was in good condition she accepted it."

Carmella fumed silently for a moment, then resigning herself to the reality she was facing, she demanded, "Fine. It was last season's fashion so I would have gotten rid of it soon enough myself. Give me something decent to wear and my wallet and I'll get out of here." No one moved. After it was obvious that nobody was going to do anything, she turned to Craig. "Now what?"

He smiled as he looked at her, knowing he had her in a corner. "Well, there is the matter of you paying for your breakfast."

Carmella sighed, annoyed. "You're so petty. Give me my fucking wallet and I'll pay you. It was more than worth the price. That was the only decently prepared meal I've had here."

He kept his attention on what he was looking at as he turned the page, snubbing her as being too unimportant to warrant even so much as a glance while he spoke. "Yes. There seems to be a minor problem there too. You don't have a wallet."

She froze, staring at him as a knot of fear grew in her stomach. "Then give me my driver's license and credit cards and all the other personal things that were in it, I don't need the wallet itself."

His only comment was "Can't."

"And why not?"

"It's all been shredded."

She recovered from the wave of panic that had flooded through her because her anger was skyrocketing again. "You had no right to do that. There was no reason to do that. They were personal items to be returned to me."

"You were my slave. I could do any damned thing I wanted to. I didn't want that crap lying around so I got rid of it."

Carmella fumed. Her blood pressure was soaring and she knew there wasn't anything she could say or do. It was done and he was right. As his slave he had every right to do anything he wanted. After fighting to regain control over her emotions she succeeded in calming herself enough to resume thinking rationally. She almost wished she hadn't when the implications of her situation sank into her. "I won't bother asking that you return my money to me, you've undoubtedly claimed that for yourself along with everything else I owned. So you've left me penniless. How am I supposed to pay for my breakfast?"

Craig looked up at her and smiled but said nothing. She nodded, understanding. "I see. Now how many times do you intend to fuck me to call the debt paid?"

His grin broadened. "None. I no longer have any desire to fuck you, you aren't a very good sex partner, and every one of my slaves far surpasses you in that regard. You'll have to come up with another idea."

Alex leaned forward. "Master, will you forgive her debt if she licks my pussy and gives me five orgasms?"

Before he could respond Carmella reacted angrily. "No fucking way. I'm not going to lick yours or any other slave's pussy."

Monica jumped into the conversation. "Master, may I have ten dollars, please?"

Without hesitating he told her she could and that she knew where his wallet was if she wanted to get it. She demurred, saying that she would get it if she needed to pay for what she was going to offer to buy. Everyone looked at her with interest. Except Carmella. She looked with suspicion and a modicum of fear. Monica turned to face Carmella, looking like the epitome of innocence as she spoke. "Since I'll never have the opportunity to do this again, I'd like to buy the right to give you ten pussy hits. A dollar per hit. It's only ten and you've taken far more than that number from me before this, so this time will be easy for you. How about it?"

Carmella answered disdainfully. "Dream on. If I agreed to that you'd use a red hot poker or iron or a spiked mace, or something just as bad. Ain't gonna happen."

Monica laughed, honestly amused. "Nah." She paused, cocking her head slightly, still giggling a bit. "I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but I actually I hadn't thought of doing that." Then she sobered and continued in a more somber tone. "No. I intend this to be nothing more than ten straight forward hits; nothing sneaky or underhanded." She paused as though considering something, then spoke with a little more enthusiasm. "I'll even give you some assurances. I promise that I won't hit with my full strength. I won't insist that you be gagged, so if you want to stop, all you'll have to do will be say the word and I promise I'll stop; we'll be done. Further, I beg my master to swear to punish me severely if I break any of those promises." She paused again, then spoke with evident sincerity. "I just want to be able to remember this in my old age." She turned to face him, smiled and said, "Assuming he lets me live that long." Again facing Carmella she made a final comment. A request, actually, even though she phrased it as a requirement. "One thing, however. You have to wear a spreader bar on your ankles. We both know that when we're having our pussy whipped there's an irresistible impulse to close our legs when we see the hit coming. If you do that I'll still hit your pussy, but it'll mostly be your leg. I won't count that although you'll argue that it should count. I want to avoid that argument and since you're agreeing to having your pussy whipped you should have no objection. Agreed?"

Carmella turned to Craig and raised her eyebrow in a questioning manner. He responded with a promise to punish Monica harshly if she broke her promise. Carmella nodded slowly, wary, but finding nothing wrong with the arrangement. Nothing except getting whipped on her pussy again. No one spoke or offered any other way for her to get the ten dollars she needed. She pondered her situation for a minute then turned again to Monica. "It appears as though I have a choice between giving him a blowjob, licking a pussy, or having mine whipped. Again. You're right; I have taken more. I will not lick my former slave's pussy and there's no fucking way in hell I will give him the satisfaction of giving him a blowjob. Especially not for a measly ten dollars, so I'll take you up on your offer."

Monica smiled brightly. "Oh goody! I'm so pleased. I'll get a crop, I'll be right back." She dashed off and returned in almost no time. She suggested that they move to the living room because it was carpeted and roomier. She thought that Carmella, being barefoot, would prefer standing on the carpet. The suggestion was accepted and they adjourned to the other room. Once there Monica told Carmella to stand wherever she wanted to and to spread her legs, just like old times. Carmella frowned at that memory but did as she was told. Monica attached the spreader bar then stood back, whip in hand.

She lost no time in waiting before delivering the first hit. It was a hard hit. True to her word it wasn't as hard as she could hit but it wasn't far below that level. Understandably, Carmella shrieked and grabbed her pussy in a reflexive response to the explosion of pain. Monica didn't say anything or try to hurry her along because she was enjoying seeing Carmella suffer. Besides, having been in the same situation herself, she knew that holding her pussy only prolonged the pain. She was surprised that Carmella didn't remember that from her time as a slave and opt to get the whipping over with as quickly as possible. She eventually removed her hands, indicating that she was ready for the next hit. Monica honored that unspoken request with another equally hard hit precisely on target.

Once again Carmella shrieked, grabbed her pussy and bent forward as her eyes filled with tears. She remained slightly bent forward, panting lightly as she tried to assimilate the pain and ready herself for the next hit. While she was waiting for the pain to subside, Carmella marveled at the thought that taking a whipping as a free woman seemed to actually be harder than as a slave. She considered that as a slave she had no choice and could submerge all thoughts of avoidance or ending the pain and simply blank her mind as much as possible. Contrarily, now that she was free she couldn't do that; her mind wouldn't let her. After each hit, the thought had flashed into her consciousness that she could stop the pain just by demanding that it stop. Overriding the impulse to do that was far more difficult than was accepting what she couldn't stop while she was a slave. On the other hand, these hits hurt far more than she remembered experiencing. She was pretty sure that Monica was cheating and using her full strength. It never dawned on her what every slave knows. That is, the whipping in progress is always worse than the one that came before.

Monica watched and readied herself as Carmella slowly began to rise into a fully upright position. She was almost there when she took her cupped hands away from cupping her pussy. Monica didn't wait. As soon as she saw Carmella's hands part enough, she unloaded a devastatingly hard shot into the exposed flesh. It landed right where it was supposed to, and with an incredible amount of energy behind it. Monica was getting into her stride and had increased the force of her strike, still without using her full strength.

Carmella hadn't been ready. Her unpreparedness coupled with the outright ferocity of the strike was more than Carmella could take. She screamed as she fell, again clutching her pussy. Her sobbing began even before her knees hit the floor. She hunched her shoulders, and bent further forward as she tried to curl herself into a ball. After a few moments the pain subsided enough that she was able to open her eyes enough to see a pair of man's shoes on the floor close in front of her. She looked up and as she did so he extended a hand down to help her rise. She accepted the offer of assistance gratefully.