Two Ghosts · Part 2

Two Ghosts · Part 2 (2/2)
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‘That’s better than the police,’ thought Mason. Out loud he said, “Yes, just call an ambulance.”

“I think I’d better get you out of the road. We don’t want you getting run over,” said the woman. She put her hands under his armpits and began to drag him backwards towards the edge of the road.

“Ow! You’re hurting my leg. Stop it.”

The woman ignored him and continued to drag him. Skye watched them. She was glad Mason was suffering; she felt he deserved a little pain after all that he had inflicted on her.

The woman dragged him to the edge of the road and several feet into some bushes.

“Where are you taking me? That’s far enough,” complained Mason in a weak voice.

The woman laid him down and asked, “Do you have the keys to her handcuffs and padlocks?”

“No, they’re at home.”

The woman went over to Skye who was still lying on the road. “Are you hurt? Can you stand up?”

“No I’m not really hurt, but I can’t get up. If you lift me I can stand.”

The woman put her hands under Skye and lifted her. Skye struggled to her feet. She thought that the woman seemed quite strong.

“Can you still walk?”

“Yes I think so. But I’m a bit tired.”

“We’ll go back to the house and wait for the ambulance,” said the woman.

“And the police,” added Skye.

“And the police,” repeated the woman. “But they may take a while to get here, I don’t want to leave him lying out here. He’ll be safer and more comfortable in the house.” She walked back to Mason and started to drag him deeper into the trees and away from the road.

Skye was puzzled by the woman’s actions. She thought they should immediately go to the house and make the phone calls. They could then return and wait by Mason for the ambulance and police to arrive. But she didn’t voice her objections, if the extra delay meant that Mason suffered more then she was in favor of it.

They both became aware of a dark figure standing at the edge of the trees. It appeared to be dressed in a long black hooded cloak, the hood concealing its face. In its hand it carried a scythe.

The woman put Mason down and said, “If you want candy it’s at the house.”

“I don’t want candy,” said the figure in a sepulchral voice, “I want the dwarf.”

“Well you can’t have him. He’s injured and I’m going to see that he gets better.”

The dark-cloaked figure turned and walked silently away without a word.

“That was creepy,” said Skye. “I wonder where he came from.”

The woman bent down and lifted Mason’s shoulders. She stopped and laid him down again. “He feels different,” she said. She felt his pulse. “Oh my god! He’s dead!”

Skye felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. He has no pulse.”

Skye walked to the edge of the road and stopped; she didn’t want to risk walking on the uneven ground. She looked at Mason. He certainly looked dead, he was not moving and didn’t seem to be breathing, although it was difficult to tell in the dim light. She told herself that the figure she had just seen was not Death, just some trick-or-treater. It had been nothing more than a coincidence that he had come by at just the right time.

“Come, we better go to the house,” said the woman. She appeared to be shaken by the experience, and was not exuding the confidence she had shown earlier. She walked a few yards along the road then turned to watch Skye as she slowly caught up.

Skye could normally walk quite well in her ballet boots, but the short steps that her chains imposed meant that she had to be extra careful not to lose her balance. Recovery from a stumble was difficult and often impossible and she could not use her arms to protect herself in a fall. The short steps also seemed to be stressing her leg muscles. Consequently she moved quite slowly.

The woman appeared to be impatient with Skye’s slow speed, but did not say anything and led the way back along the road and up the driveway to her house.

Skye was thinking about Mason. She thought that he must have received some internal injuries when the car hit him. She wondered if he was really dead, or just unconscious and the woman had made a mistake. But it didn’t matter, she was finally free of the bastard. She wondered what she would do next. She had missed the beginning of the school year. She wondered if she could catch up or would have to skip a semester.

She felt an urge to pee. She would wait until she was in the house then get the woman to switch off the circuit. She wasn’t quite sure where the switch was, or if there was more than one switch. But if the woman couldn’t find it perhaps she could disconnect the battery.

Skye reached the two steps leading up to the front door and stopped. The woman had already opened the door.

“I can’t climb the steps,” explained Skye. “My chains are too short.”

The woman lifted Skye up. Skye was again surprised at how strong she was.

The woman led the way into the kitchen and helped Skye sit in a chair. She leaned against the counter staring at Skye. Skye noted that the woman was now dressed entirely in black; a leather jacket and leather trousers covering spike-heeled boots. She also had black hair that contrasted with her pale complexion. She seemed to be middle aged, perhaps in her early forties.

“You’re quite attractive, did you know that?” the woman said breaking the silence.

“Aren’t you going to call the police?” said Skye.

“Yes, but I’m worried about that dead dwarf out there. What if the police accuse me of killing him?”

“Don’t be silly. I’ll tell them what happened. He was hit by a car and it probably injured something inside him.”

“Perhaps you’re right. But I want to show them how I found you. You were gagged I believe?” said the woman holding up the gag.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that’s necessary,” said Skye nervously eying the gag. She was getting worried. The woman had not called the police and seemed to be acting strangely. She had also been staring hard at Skye as if assessing her.

“Open your mouth.”

Skye was tempted to obey. She had been used to instantly obeying all commands given to her during the last few months. But this was different; she should now be free. “No way,” she said. “Please call the police.”

The woman grabbed Skye’s hair and pulled it back with a powerful jerk, causing her head to fall back and her mouth to open. The women quickly forced the ball into her mouth and buckled the strap. The operation had pulled out some of her hair and the woman brushed it off her hands saying, “Any time I give you a command I want you to obey instantly. Is that understood?”

Skye nodded tearfully. What had happened? Instead of gaining her freedom had she simply exchanged a brutal master for a brutal mistress?

“I have something to show you downstairs,” the woman said and half dragged half carried Skye down a flight of steps. She made Skye follow her through two rooms to a doorway. The woman switched on a light and they entered a third room. Skye saw that it was equipped as a windowless dungeon with cinder block walls.

There was a man standing against the opposite wall. His arms and legs were stretched out and shackled to the wall. He was naked except for a gag that covered the lower part of his face, and something that appeared to enclose his penis. He squinted at them as they entered but didn’t say anything.

“That is Jackass,” said the woman waving her hand in the direction of the man, “and I’m going to call you Slug. You will forget your old name and think of yourself only as Slug. Stand here,” she said pushing Skye against the wall.

She closed an iron collar around Skye’s neck and padlocked it. “That’s convenient,” she remarked, “You’re the same height as Jackass. Now listen carefully, you will think of me as your mistress. If and when I allow you to speak you will address me as Mistress Dominika. Your sole purpose in life will be to obey me and serve me. Is that clear?”

Skye nodded, she thought it best to humor her.

“Good.” Dominika walked to the door and turned round to face them. “No talking you two. I shall be listening in. If I hear you trying to talk to each other I’ll come down and whip you both. I shall enjoy whipping you Slug, so I hope you do make a sound.” She paused, then added, “You might as well know that my whippings draw blood. You can see a few marks on the front of Jackass, but mostly I am kind and just whip your back. Now I have a little matter of a dead dwarf to see to.”

She walked out closing the door behind her. The light went out plunging them into total darkness.

Skye wanted to talk to Jackass to find out what Dominika was like, but was afraid to make a sound. She reasoned that if sounds could be made without being punished, then he would make them first. He would be curious about Dominika’s reference to a dead dwarf. She listened carefully but the only sound she heard was his breathing.

She was extremely uncomfortable. Her feet and legs were aching from the long walk, and she desperately wanted to make pee. Her arms hurt, they had been bruised by her contact with the car and her subsequent fall.

She felt she had reached a new low point in her life. She feared that Dominika would search the dwarf and the road and find the controller. If she tried to test it on her she might kill her, she would not know how incredibly powerful that bastard Mason had made it. She could not face the thought of severe shocks being administered by Dominika as she experimented with the control; she would rather die. Her life no longer seemed worth living.

“Oh Death where art thou?” she mumbled quietly into her gag. “Let me look upon thy face and die.”

Death, of course, did not appear. Skye decided to try to strangle herself and relaxed her legs, letting her collar take her weight. The sharp edge dug cruelly into her neck and she tried to position herself so that it would cut off her breathing.

She found a position where it seemed to both restrict her breathing and cut off the blood supply to her brain. She held the position for some time, gradually becoming light headed. But her body began to fight back, demanding that she live. Her chest heaved demanding that she breathe, and she felt an increasing urge to stand up. Finally she could take it no longer, she could not go through with it; the desire of her body to live was stronger than her willpower. She took her weight on her legs and stood up, gasping air into her lungs and feeling annoyed at her weakness

‘Shit,’ she thought, ‘I am the most miserable person in the world and I can’t even kill myself.’

Hours seemed to pass, but she had no way of telling how many. Her pains continued to grow more severe. She tried shifting her position to the limited extent allowed by her bonds, but it didn’t help much. One worrying development was that her legs began to shake with the stress of standing in her ballet boots. She had never stood for so long in them and her leg muscles were objecting to being forced into such an unnatural position.

Her need to pee was increasing and becoming unbearable.

She wondered what Dominika was doing. She thought that she might bury the dwarf or, more likely, move him to another location so that no one would connect the corpse to her house. To distract her mind from her pains she tried to calculate how long Dominika would take to dispose of the body. Fifteen minutes to load it into her car, half an hour to drive to a dumping ground, half an hour to bury or conceal it, and half an hour to drive back. That was a little under two hours, and she felt she had been in the dungeon far longer.

Her need to pee finally became unbearable. She feared the shocks that would follow if she did pee, but she thought peeing was inevitable. Even if she tried to hold it in she would leak and even a small leak would trigger the shocks. She decided that the continuing agony of trying to hold it in was worse than the expected electric shocks.

She relaxed her bladder allowing the urine to flow out. The initial feeling of relief was quickly followed by a stabbing pain in her nipples. This in turn was followed by another equally severe pain in her pussy lips. She screamed; she couldn’t help it. A third wave of pain shot down her front from her breast to her pussy, causing her to try to double up and forcing the front of her throat into the metal collar, momentarily stifling her scream.

The cycle continued, first the nipples, then her pussy, then both. She didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t stop peeing, and even if she did the cloth would be wet and would take hours to dry. The shocks would continue until the current was switched off or the battery ran down.

She thrashed about, angry with Mason who was now pointlessly punishing her from beyond the grave. She thought that he, even in his most sadistic moments, never intended her to suffer this long. In a moment of quiet she thought she heard Jackass making noises. She tried to suppress her screams and listen. He was rattling his chains and trying to say something. She thought it was, “Be quiet, you’ll get us both whipped,” but couldn’t be sure.

Again she tried to strangle herself but the convulsions of the shocks gave her no respite. Her body twitched each time the shocks came, and they seemed to come almost continually. She began to have trouble breathing. Her nose was completely clogged, and the shocks seemed to disrupt her breathing pattern. She tried to stop screaming. Although it gave her comfort and distracted her mind a little from the shocks, it also impeded her breathing.

Initially she thought she could stand no more than a few seconds of this torture, but it went remorselessly on and on. After a minute she thought she could stand no more than a few minutes. But on and on it went without stopping, without variation.

She slipped into a primitive mental state, a world filled only with pain. There was a rhythm to it, a regular cycle of shocks endlessly repeated. Each cycle lasted about a second so that she had no time to recover from a shock before the next struck her.

Gradually, oh so gradually, she began to reassert control over her body. She began to think again, and her thoughts continued past each shock instead of being completely disrupted. She thought the shocks were getting less intense; perhaps the battery was running down or she was becoming numb. She decided it must be the latter, her nerves would be getting less sensitive to the shocks, or perhaps they were getting destroyed.

Finally, after what seemed like thousands of shocks, she found she could endure them without reacting. She continued to feel them, but they were no longer really painful. ‘I’m going to survive,’ she thought.

Gradually she became aware of other things. She smelled her pee. ‘Oh God, Dominika will be angry with me for peeing on her floor. I wonder what the whipping will be like, surely it can’t be as bad as what I’ve just endured.’

She knew she had made a lot of noise and was therefore going to be punished, so she thought she might as well satisfy her curiosity about Jackass. “How long have you been here?” she asked, trying to enunciate every word as clearly as she could.

“Be quiet,” she heard him say, equally slowly.

She became more worried. If after she had made all that noise he still didn’t want to talk, Dominika must be truly vicious.

The house remained quiet; she had heard no sound since Dominika had left.

She heard footsteps over her head. She thought Dominika had finally returned and became afraid of what she would do when she discovered the pee on the floor. The shocks were feebler now, but still going at the same rate. Perhaps the battery was running down and if so she might no longer be able to kill her while experimenting with the controller.

The door opened and the room was filled with a blinding light. She blinked and squinted at the figure entering and was overjoyed to see it was a policeman.

He turned and shouted, “I’ve found someone!”

Skye was so overcome with relief that her rescue was a blur. The police removed her collar with bolt cutters and carried her upstairs. They explained that the man with a scythe had returned and found the dead dwarf. He had alerted the police and they had arrested Dominika as she was putting the body into her car. It had taken them several hours to obtain a warrant to enter her house and search it.

They introduced her to the man with the scythe. He was young and tall and good-looking, quite the most handsome man she had seen in several months.

“How strange to look Death in the face and see life,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. Three months later they were married.

Two Ghosts · Part 2 (2/2)
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