Your Master Requires Thirty Days · Part 5 (5/5)
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last night. It’s my job to see you have explicit instructions. Tomorrow you don’t have to guess.”
The Busy Day He turned away from me and strode out the cell door. I noted with approval he immediately turned around and locked it. The smile on his face left no doubt the show was for my benefit.
“Do not break your position. I’ll be back with your breakfast.”
I certainly had my structure now: the right way to sit; the right way to say my bedtime prayers, in a roundabout way; my duties when I woke up; and now the right way to stand. I caught myself, why was it right? Why did I just assume it?
Emotionally it felt like the proper way, no argument there. Intellectually? Sure, I had signed away my freedom for the next month, but did it include rearranging my life to suit their preferences? Obedient to those placed in authority, the phrase from my pledge tended to pop up at the most inconvenient times. I had consented, at least indirectly, when I signed the agreement. I’d placed them in authority all by myself; no one else to blame.
Now I had to face the law of unintended consequences. How was I to know in advance one word from Officer Mike and critical thinking centers in my brain switched off? Standing there, against the wall, I had plenty of time to meditate on what was happening to me. I stared at the bars in the front of the cell. They were a tangible symbol of physical confinement, restricting me to a tiny space, depriving me of my freedom. Yet the real confinement was his order mentally binding me to the wall pressing against my back. The bars were, in one sense, pointless because I was incapable of breaking my position. I was surrounded by invisible bars and chains, held firmly in place by Officer Mike’s will.
My lovely necklace, how I prized the sound of it. I felt the cool metal under my fingers. Through all my waking hours it weighed on me, literally and figuratively. It was as impossible to ignore as it was for me to remove it. No matter what was going on it kept intruding on my thoughts, day and night. Just to add to my confusion Officer Mike found it attractive, and even worse I wanted him to look at it. What did that say about me?
Meanwhile I had to wait until he returned. My arms were getting tired; I hoped he’d be back soon. Why did he force me to stand like this? There was the obvious answer, assuming he liked what he saw. I was convinced there had to be more to it.
These ‘one right way’ exercises he was handing out, they were getting into my head. I’ve never encountered anything like it before, so I’m not sure what was going on. How to sit, how to stand, and that pledge! The words kept coming back to me. It raised the serious question of why I was here in the first place.
I couldn’t move, and the explanation had everything to do with Officer Mike. There was no sane reason I had to stand here, against the wall, in a manner that screamed sex object. When Officer Mike came back I’d just walk up to the bars and tell him to take a flying leap. The only ‘right way’ was whatever I felt like doing. I was here for some bondage fun, and that’s all.
Sure, that’s what I was going to do, except for one thing. I will be obedient to those in authority, the line from my pledge. Every time I decided to go my own way those words came back to haunt me. Maybe there was some kind of short circuit in my mental processes. Whatever it was, I was caught up in it. I decided I’d go sit down on the bunk. Nothing happened; I was still staring at those bars, all my muscles frozen in place.
Up to now it had always been my decision to submit to a man. If I didn’t like what was happening all I had to do was walk away. In retrospect I had unconsciously assumed the same would apply when I signed up for my thirty days. Maybe I couldn’t walk away, but worst case I’d have to go through the motions if I changed my mind. After that I’d go home and write off my experience in here as old history, a bit of fun but that was all.
Standing there, contemplating my future, I realized my choice to submit was no longer voluntary. While it was true I was being forced to obey, my internal viewpoint was shifting and I couldn’t stop it. In some mysterious way I still didn’t understand I transitioned from what was important to me to what Officer Mike wanted from me. It wasn’t that I enjoyed pleasing him; it was essential to my own peace of mind that he got whatever he desired from me.
That’s what held me against the wall. I’d never felt more helpless in my life. My feelings, my dreams, my goals, nothing really mattered when he spoke to me. That look, the tone of his voice, it was his irresistible force and I was no immovable object. What scared me is that I hadn’t given him that power over me. He had simply come into my life and seized control in a matter of days. Was it fear of what he might do to me? No, not really; the real shock was how quickly and easily I had surrendered.
Breakfast He finally returned, pushing a cart. I could see covered plates and a carton of milk. I hoped that was for me; I was hungry. The aroma of scrambled eggs and bacon made my stomach rumble in anticipation.
He opened the cell door and wheeled in the cart. It took all my willpower to hold still and not run over to the cart and gobble down the food. Don’t forget, I was reminded by the weight around my ankles, you can’t run.
I watched eagerly as he lifted the cover off the plate. I counted eggs, bacon and potatoes, all the basic food groups for breakfast. And was that coffee in the Styrofoam cup? He replaced the cover and wheeled around to face me.
Yes I was looking at the cart instead of the bars, but the temptation was too great. I did have the presence of mind to bring my eyes back to where they were supposed to be, before he caught me. Sure I was guilty but it was his fault for making me wait. I had no intention or compulsion to confess to this infraction.
He backed up and folded his arms, glaring at me all the while. Maybe he was suspicious. I was under orders to remain silent, which is precisely what I did.
“Before you eat,” he began, “I want to hear you recite your pledge. Let’s make sure you haven’t forgotten any of the lines. Begin.”
I’d never forget those words for the rest of my life. When I finished he just stood there, head cocked to one side, as if he were waiting for something else.
“Sir, may I be allowed to speak?”
He waved a hand in agreement. “Go ahead. You have something to tell me?”
How did he know? There was no way he could have seen what I did, yet in some inexplicable way he was waiting for me to confess.
“Sir, while you were gone I moved my hands out of position to touch my collar. And when you brought in the cart I failed to keep my eyes forward. No excuses, sir, I disobeyed you.” Once I started the words tumbled out. It was that pledge; it messed with my head. I felt guilty that I had even considered hiding what I’d done from him.
He unfolded his arms and started pacing back and forth in front of me. “I can’t ignore this. You will remain in position, and this time you will not violate your instructions. Is that clear?”
There went my breakfast. Poor behavior brings its consequences.
He stopped pacing and turned to face me. “The next time you will receive two days added onto your sentence. Make sure there is no next time.” He stood there, looking at me, then to the cart, then back at me, all the while rubbing his chin, seemingly lost in thought.
“I hate to waste food. Since you can’t feed yourself I suppose I’ll have to do it for you. After all you are my responsibility; you depend on me.”
He rolled the cart over, in front of me. Taking the cover off the plate he held it up to my chin. Stabbing a chunk of eggs with the fork he held it up. “Open wide.”
For the first time in my life I was, quite literally, eating out a man’s hand. It should have been degrading but I had a very different reaction. It was a sensual experience, and more than a little, umm, stimulating? Was I aroused by Officer Mike feeding me?
I finished eating breakfast, though it took a while. He wheeled the cart out of the cell, made an ostentatious show of locking the door, and disappeared around the wall. What he did not do is release me from my punishment. I stood against the wall staring at those bars, and this time I did not break position with my hands. My penance was taking its toll on my arms and legs, but I didn’t care. I had to pay for my lapse, but once I was done it would not be mentioned again. My guilty feelings had already disappeared.
Exit Interview I couldn’t believe it. I’d survived the full thirty days. The last day started with the leg shackles and collar being cut off. It was a welcome relief to get rid of the shackles; the collar I missed although I had to be practical. There was no way I could wear it in public.
Perhaps the nicest change was the jail uniform I was issued. It wasn’t much, a short, sleeveless and low cut dress, but after a month with no clothes it might as well be one of those expensive designer evening gowns.
The ‘Prisoner’ stitched on the back did not add to its value as a fashion statement. It was accurate. The shackles were replaced with the familiar police style leg irons. I could almost manage a normal walk, though I was not about to go jogging. Officer Mike had wasted no time in fitting them around my ankles. Them, as in two sets, with the connecting chains twisted together. That was the Officer Mike I expected these days. If one was enough, he used two.
Here I was, outside the Warden’s office, waiting for my exit interview. Naturally I had to sit the ‘one right way’, that was still in effect. I did have to modify the routine to accommodate the handcuffs. Two sets of handcuffs, but thankfully not the hinged type. My wrists were held close to my waist, in front, by the chain around my waist. I was so used to having my hands locked behind my back that the change was quite comfortable. Since I couldn’t place my hands on my legs I settled for crossing them in my lap, left hand over right. Officer Mike noticed, but then he always spots those details. When I looked to him for approval he nodded his head. I was proud I figured it out by myself.
Naturally I wasn’t waiting on my own. I never left my cell without an escort. To my delight Officer Mike was sitting next to me. He was intolerant of any deviation from his one right way, which meant I had to sit there quietly with back straight, head high, and eyes front. He was out of my line of sight, yet I was sure he was continually checking. That was his job, to watch over me and correct me if I got out of line. My job? I ran through the pledge, in my head. Up until the minute I walked out the front door of this prison that was my job.
The last thirty days had transformed me. Was it for the better? I hoped that was true. One thing definitely marked a turning point. Once I was back home, every morning when I woke up, and every evening before bed, I’d be there in front of the bathroom mirror, reciting my pledge. Those were my words to live by now. I’d be standing the one right way too, no clothes, with my hands behind my head. That ritual was part of me; I’d go crazy if it didn’t complete it every day.
What would happen to my cell? It would be home for someone else after today. I’d miss the comforting sight of those bars confining me, keeping me in my place. Most of all I’d miss the sound of Officer Mike locking the cell door. After I complained that first night he never left it open and unguarded. The cell wasn’t much, in fact it was very little, but it had become a second home to me. I’m not sure why the austere lifestyle was so appealing. The irony was it had none of the comforts of home, yet I was content to sit on my bunk, again, the one right way, and wait for a guard to show up. With no distractions I had plenty of time to think.
I heard the office door open. It must be the Warden, but again my eyes were fixed on the far wall. I did not have permission to turn my head or look around. “We’re ready, bring her in.”
A strong hand wrapped around my upper arm and lifted me up. I made my way through the open door with Officer Mike behind me. “Stand here,” he ordered, pressing my back against a wall.
Training took over without me even thinking about it: feet apart, wider now with the new leg irons; a straight back; and head up. Look directly ahead and don’t make a sound. I carefully crossed my cuffed hands in front. The day wasn’t over yet; I still had to follow the rules.
There was a stack of papers on the Warden’s desk. “You need to sign off on her behavior review before I go ahead with approving the completed sentence.” Why the show of paperwork? This was fantasy, not reality. It must be for my benefit, to keep up the pretense.
From my vantage at the wall I saw Officer Mike sign my review. I trusted it was positive. I could see lines of text on the page but it was too far away to read. Was it real? Had he actually written down a review of my stay? It would make for fascinating reading to discover what he thought of me.
The Warden took the second sheet of paper and signed it. “Okay, as of six this evening Paula is released from our custody.” He picked up another piece of paper. “After that she’s all yours, Mike. Here’s the transfer. Everything’s arranged.”
What? After six I better be on my way home. I almost said something but caught myself in time. Officer Mike turned around to look at me, frowning. I could still get into trouble if I wasn’t careful. I wouldn’t put it past the Warden to add a few days for bad behavior at the last minute.
At his desk he checked the time on his phone. “Not that long, go ahead and take her to the waiting area.”
On went the hood before Officer Mike led me out the door. Discipline, order and rigid structure, it must be the slogan of this place. I’d have to go through the motions right up to the last minute. It was a regulation, and in here rules were inflexible.
Had the experience been worth the cost? On balance I had to admit I’d do it all over again, even the unpleasant parts. Those moments were important too. If I failed to follow orders there was no question I had to be punished for it. Sure, it was a classic carrot and stick approach, but wasn’t that what discipline was all about? Rewards for behaving properly; punishment for unacceptable behavior. Properly as in the one right way, I told myself. I’d certainly learned that lesson.
Six o’clock, that was the hour when my freedom would be restored. I had every intention of asking Officer Mike if we could stay in touch once I left. I’d have to wait until then though; I was sure it would be inappropriate to bring up the subject while still subject to his control.
No, that wasn’t the correct way to phrase it. I would always be subject to his control, even after going home. That was the reason I hoped he’d at least call me. I didn’t want to lose something very special. At six o’clock I would no longer be placed under his authority. That sounded better. It was that line from my pledge getting in the way again.
The Waiting Room When the hood came off I was startled to see Sherrie sitting on the wooden bench. Unexpectedly I found myself irritated at the sight of her. She must have been taught the right way to sit, but her execution was, to be charitable, sloppy. Slouching, head down, feet not lined up, it was a disgrace. Why hadn’t she been punished, or at least reprimanded? If Officer Mike ever caught me like that the least I’d receive would be all day lying on the floor hogtied in a pretzel, while he endlessly lectured me on my failings. That’s if he were in a good mood.
I was ordered to sit next to her. Immediately I assumed the position, my one right way. Maybe if she saw how it was supposed to be done Sherrie would try to do better. If I were allowed I’d try to talk some sense into her, but I didn’t receive permission to speak.
Officer Mike backed up to better see us. “Both of you are to wait here until it’s time to go. I’m going to let you talk to each other, but keep it down. Paula,” he turned to me, “see if you can get her to listen to you.” He nodded toward Sherrie. “This is unacceptable.” He walked away.
Time to go? That must be when I leave for home. Did they plan on releasing Sherrie, though it seemed a risky move assuming she had been kidnapped? Either way I had one last task to perform, to straighten her out. Though why the guards were bothering with her didn’t make any sense if she was departing soon. My place wasn’t to question why; those in authority knew what they were doing.
First, I had to get her attention. She was self-absorbed in pity, sobbing with her head hung down. I nudged her leg with my knee, which was about all I could do since my hands were cuffed and I wasn’t allowed to leave my place on the bench. Eventually I got her to look up at me.
“What?” she asked.
“Pull yourself together,” I urged her. “Sit up and stop blubbering! You’ve been taught how to sit, so get with the program. What’s wrong with you?”
Sherrie had an odd expression on her face, but she did make an effort to comply. “What’s wrong?” she laughed. “Oh, not much, just that they won’t let me go home. I’m being moved to some other place, out in the desert. No one will ever find me there. Other than that everything’s just great.” She jerked against her handcuffs. Like me she had a waist chain; there was no point in struggling.
What was she talking about? We were waiting to be released, not carried off to some remote site in the middle of nowhere. Any minute now Officer Mike would take off the chains, and unlock that awful chastity belt. I’d change back into my street clothes, get into my car and drive home. I’d have many fond memories of this place, but my sentence was up. It was time for me to return to the real world.
I needed assistance with Sherrie. If she knew she was going to be released it would help to calm her down. I looked over at Officer Mike. He was seated at a table at the far end of the room, his back to me. “Sir?” I called out. “Could you help us?” They were supposed to watch over us, so I figured asking for help would be tolerated.
He stood up and came over to our bench. He didn’t seem to be irritated by my request, which was a relief. “What is it?” he asked.
“It’s Sherrie, sir. I’m trying to explain to her we’re waiting here before being released. She keeps talking about being taken to some place in the desert.” He’d clear up her misconceptions.
He stood there, towering over me, not saying a word. I looked up at him, confused at why he wasn’t dispelling Sherrie’s fears.
“Released? What are you talking about? The two of you are scheduled to be transported to the Center, in the Mojave Desert. You’ll receive advanced training there, to prepare you for your new life. The driver should be here any moment with the van. We’ll get you loaded up and on your way.”
I stared at him, not believing what I was hearing. Advanced training? A new life? None of it made sense to me. This wasn’t right.
“Sir? I completed my sentence. According to the agreement that ends my stay here,” I protested. Maybe Sherrie was being moved somewhere else. I certainly was not.
“You’re correct; it does complete your visit. I decided it’s in your best interest to continue on in a similar environment. We operate another location that’s suited for long duration residence. No distractions, you’ll be more comfortable there.”
I was speechless. Sherrie was right. No wonder she was hysterical. My best interest? What right did he have to decide for me? That thought brought me to a screeching halt. He’d been doing just that for the last month, with my enthusiastic cooperation. I didn’t miss that peculiar wording either. He said ‘I’, not ‘We’. The implication wasn’t lost on me. Officer Mike had unilaterally chosen to run my life, regardless of my opinion.
The shock of discovering Sherrie and I were being kidnapped hit me like a physical blow. What could I do to prevent it? The touch of cold steel encircling my wrists and ankles reminded me I wasn’t in a position to offer any real resistance.
Aside from the cuffs I had one big problem I couldn’t ignore. Officer Mike had ordered me to sit on the bench. Despite all I’d just learned I was still essentially stuck in my sitting position, unable to move until he gave me permission to stop. If he directed me to get in the van I don’t think I could refuse.
He crouched down in front of me. Resting a hand on my knee he carefully explained what would happen next. “Paula, you will never truly be happy and content if you go back to your old life. I’m sure of this. I’m not going to let you make a mistake that’ll leave you miserable. You are my responsibility now; I won’t let your future happiness slip away. When the van arrives I will escort you to the passenger door. The driver will strap you into the car seat. You will cooperate with him; it’s the right thing to do.”
Our eyes were locked together; it was impossible for me to look away. At that point I realized I was going to do exactly as he instructed me, for precisely the reason he gave. The right way, the way he defines for me. No, I wasn’t being kidnapped. It was voluntary imprisonment, for as long as he wished.
“Sir? I…” I couldn’t complete the sentence. All it takes is a few words from him and my free will disappears. How did he do that?
He took his hand off my knee and laid it over mine, folded in my lap. “Your pledge, recite it now!”
The words came out of my mouth of their own accord. I heard them, I recognized my voice, yet it was as if someone else in the room was speaking. The words were accurate; I was obedient to authority, his authority over me, now and forever into the future. It was a bond between us that would never be broken.
Epilogue “That’s what brought us here. For my part I had no idea what to expect. I think my biggest surprise was how easy it was to adapt to life here, in the secure section. When I heard about all the regulations the first time I thought I’d never survive. These days I don’t even think about it.”
Paula turned to Big Mike. “Anything else, sir? What did I leave out?”
Big Mike didn’t answer right away. “Well, the way you tell the story is much more interesting than my version. About all I’d add is that idiotic stunt in choosing riveted leg shackles is a good example to everyone why those kinds of decisions should be left to someone who knows better.”
Your Master Requires Thirty Days · Part 5 (5/5)
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