Your Master Requires Your Commitment · Part 3 (3/4)
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The lesson wasn’t lost on Darla. Even though he had been considerate toward her, the man holding her wasn’t going to ignore the regulations for her sake. That was as it should be. She believed to be dominant was to make hard choices, and above all to not be swayed by emotion when it came to enforcing discipline.
Deliberate Darla stood next to Alisha, both of them facing the Warden on the other side of the bars. He had just brought them back from a training room, the one where a wall was covered in mirrors. The lesson had been on how to stand, how to sit, how to walk; it seemed like there was one right way for just about everything at the Center. For over an hour they had to pose in front of their reflections, in what had to be the cruelest of self-appraisals.
Darla tugged at the handcuffs holding her arms behind her back. Never leave home without them; that appeared to be the policy rigorously enforced by the Wardens. It certainly explained why no one ever escaped. The usual procedure, now their cell door was locked, would be for him to call them up to the bars, one at a time, to remove the restraints.
The class had been one long and tiring exercise. Darla looked forward to sitting down on her bunk for a while to rest. It would be nice to lie down and put her feet up but that wasn’t permitted. Yet one more rule for this place, both feet on the floor until lights out. Darla was convinced the vast majority of the Center’s rules were designed for no other purpose than to make her life difficult. Even so, she knew better than to question out loud the reasoning behind the limitations imposed on her.
There was a rule for this moment too, one they had practiced in front of the mirrors. Darla held still, staring straight ahead, her attention focused on the man watching her through the cell bars. She couldn’t see Alisha but prayed her unwelcome companion was smart enough to do as she had been taught. If not then both of them would surely suffer the consequences of Alisha’s stubborn refusal to accept their new reality.
The Warden’s eyes never wavered while he studied the two women, looking for the slightest imperfection. These inspections were all too frequent. If he wasn’t satisfied anything could happen, including holding them in position for as long as he pleased.
Abruptly, without a word of explanation, he turned and walked away. Alisha rushed to the bars, but to Darla’s relief stopped before she stepped on the forbidden zone defined by the blue stripe on the floor. She was about to call out when Darla whispered, “No! Don’t do it!”
Puzzled, Alisha looked at Darla. She held out her hands, still bound behind her back. “He forgot to let us go. We need to get him back here.”
Darla shook her head. Alisha didn’t understand. Maybe those jokes about dumb reporters were true after all. “He didn’t forget.” Darla held out her arms in the same way. “This is deliberate. If you complain nothing good will come of it.”
Slowly, hobbled by the chain connecting her ankles, Darla made her way to her bunk. Leaning forward to keep her balance she sat down. Mindful of the lesson they had just finished she straightened her back, brought her feet together and sat with her knees barely touching, lined up with her ankles in a vertical line. The one right way, like it or not, is how it must be. Meanwhile Alisha hadn’t budged.
“That’s it?” Alisha asked sarcastically. “Sit there like a good little girl? Not me, there must be something I can do.” She stumbled back and forth, from one end of the bars to the other, trying in vain to see around the extended walls blocking any view of the hallway. The chains on her ankles didn’t help.
I’m quickly losing patience with her, Darla grimaced in irritation. “There is something. Come over here and sit down. Everything in this place has a reason behind it. Are you ever going to figure that out?” She nodded towards Alisha’s bed. “Sit down, like we were taught, and wait. I realize you aren’t the patient type, but unless you make some immediate changes all you are accomplishing is making life miserable for both of us.”
She glared at Alisha. “For once in your life, think before opening your mouth,” Darla snapped. “They don’t make mistakes, which ought to be obvious to you by now. Isn’t it plain to see this is a test? Use your head, assuming you really do have any brains in there.”
Alisha seemed to recoil in shock at Darla’s harsh words. Yet they did have an effect. Slowly she shuffled over to her bunk and, copying Darla, sat down with both feet on the floor, knees close together. Dejected, she hung her head.
“Keep your head up!” Darla whispered. “They must be watching us.”
Alisha’s head jerked up. She looked around but saw no one else. “There’s no one here, what are you talking about?”
And she claims she went to college? Darla shook her head. “Cameras, hidden ones, I’d guess at least two, maybe more. And microphones, don’t forget they hear everything we say.”
Alisha glanced around the cell again. “I don’t see any cameras. You must be paranoid.”
Now I know what it’s like to herd cats. “You aren’t supposed to see them. Do you seriously think they’re going to leave us here without someone checking on us constantly? These men are a lot smarter than you assume. They’re experts, so don’t think you have any idea of what’s actually going on.”
Something changed in Alisha. Darla saw how her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Look,” Alisha whispered. “I’m scared, okay? Maybe it’s easy for you to be fatalistic, but I’m frightened. Sooner or later, they are going to come for what men always want, and there’s no way I can stop them.”
She rattled the connecting chain between her wrists. “I’ve never been so helpless before, in my entire life. Those Wardens, they’re so powerful it makes me feel small, weak and vulnerable. Any one of them can make use of me whenever he pleases. Every day in here just brings the inevitable closer.”
When she began to shake Darla came over and sat down next to her. The best she could manage was to press her shoulder against Alisha in support. “Hey, I’m scared too, even if it doesn’t show. Everything you say is true, except for the way you’re looking at it. Ask yourself one simple question. If they intend us to be some kind of sex slave, why hasn’t it happened already?”
Alisha shook her head. “What? I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”
Darla’s dislike for Alisha faded when she got to see a new side to the woman. “As you said, they can do with us, to us, anything they want. Yet the worst hasn’t come to pass. Doesn’t that tell you something? They have other plans.”
Alisha turned to look at Darla. “What other plans? Do you know how long they’re going to keep us confined in here?”
Darla shook her head. “I don’t have the slightest idea of what’s in store for us. No, they haven’t revealed any secrets to me. How long? Again, no idea but I’m betting it will be quite a while, months at least.” Or years, but Darla didn’t want to add to Alisha’s worries.
There were tears running down Alisha’s face. “My life is over before it’s really begun. At some point they’ll give up on me, and that will be it. For the rest of eternity, I’ll be buried in some unmarked spot in the desert.” She shook her head. “And all for a lousy story I thought would make me famous. How could I have been so stupid? They led me to this place like a lamb to the slaughter.”
“Hey,” Darla began. “We’re alive, we aren’t being beaten, or worse, day and night, and if you think about it, for the most part we’ve even been treated with a kind of respect. Sure, the men here run things, they tell us what to do, and they make sure it gets done to their satisfaction. Even with all that we must keep up a positive outlook. We can find a place here. It may not be ideal, but we survive in the hope of better times. Don’t give up, Alisha. It looks bleak now, but try to keep a positive attitude. Other women have made it through the same trials we face. I won’t lie to you; I have no idea what lies in our future, but I want to be there to find out.”
Interim Evaluation “You called that one right, Bob,” the Director stated. “Darla is having a definite, and positive, effect on Alisha’s behavior. I’m going to move them out of Quarantine, but we’ll make sure they stay together.”
“One part instinct and one-part lucky guess,” Robert replied. “On the subject of Darla, I have a request to pass on.”
“Shoot,” the Director answered.
“It comes from Sam Littleton. I think everyone knows him? He indicated to me he is interested in Darla, once he found out she isn’t owned by anyone. I arranged schedules so he would have more time supervising her. In case he decides to proceed further, I’d like to check if there are any objections?”
Max, the psychologist, pointed out the most pressing question. “Is he aware of her history, specifically concerning the risk posed by Psycho Sally? Much as I’d like to believe Sally is satisfied with sending Darla here, psychopaths by nature can be both obsessive and irrational, especially when it’s a matter of revenge.”
“No, all I told him is there’s a blackout on information about her. I did go back and review some video of her with Sam. The camera caught a few unguarded moments, when he wasn’t watching her. I’m guessing here, but I’d say if he were more, let’s say assertive, she wouldn’t object.”
Both Max and the Director laughed. “Okay, full disclosure to Sam, but he keeps it to himself. Informed decision, Bob, make sure he understands what he might be facing.” The Director tapped a pencil on the conference room table. “Now, what are we going to do with Alisha?”
The Next Step “So that’s the story, Sam. The Director wanted you to know, but for your ears only. Do you still want more contact time with Darla?” Bob sat at the table in the “eye in the sky”, the room fitted out with monitors for the Secure Area surveillance system.
Sam leaned back in his chair. Who exactly was this “Psycho Sally” anyway? His first reaction was to keep Darla safe. That answered one question. “Yeah, consider this a formal notice. I’ll file my claim on her starting today. I want full access to her records, and I’m asserting my right to be the primary decision maker concerning her in the future. I’ll inform her at my discretion.”
Sam’s declaration wasn’t unexpected. “There’s some paperwork, but we’ll get to that later. I’ll get this into the computer right away so everyone concerned will be aware of her change in status.” He stood up and extended his hand. “Congratulations, I wish the two of you all the best.”
Though the Center operated outside the bounds of society’s legal system it was not based on anarchy. There was a charter which defined guidelines for the staff and where the Center would draw a line when it came to those individuals housed within its walls. The code of conduct was heavily weighted toward the men who ran the Center, as should be expected, but it was not entirely one-sided.
After Bob left, Sam sat at the surveillance console, watching Darla’s every move. She had no idea of the potential danger she faced from Psycho Sally. Sam intended to make sure she never learned.
Mirror, Mirror “Alisha? Go to the back and face the rear wall. Place your hands at shoulder height. Remain there until I announce I’m leaving.” Sam would be back for her later on, but first there was a special session arranged for Darla. If the outcome went as well as he hoped, her remaining time in the Secure Area could be substantially reduced by the review board.
Darla stood in front of her bunk, where she had been sitting. When Sam turned to her, she was watching him but otherwise remained in place, hands at her side. He reached behind his back to take out a pair of handcuffs from the holder. “You are coming with me.” The cuffs were visible in his right hand.
In an instant Darla’s back was to him, hands close together in the small of her back. Sam took his time fastening her wrists together with the cuffs. Does she realize how much this affects me? The way she obeyed, without the slightest hesitation, made it all the more difficult for him to keep his hands off her.
He took his time checking the cuffs to make sure they weren’t too tight. Her lustrous hair cascaded down her back. Underneath was the collar surrounding her neck, marking her for all to see as a woman who had come to terms with living a life shaped by the hand of a man who cared for her. Darla wasn’t aware he was that man, not yet but soon.
With one hand on her upper arm, he easily led her out of the cell into the corridor. The moment he let go, to close the cell door, she stopped, silently waiting for him to decide when they would continue. How easily she accepts all this, the Center, the chains, the collar, being told what to do. Sam stared at the back of her head. What goes on in there? She never complains, despite her entire life outside these walls being summarily snatched from her without warning.
“Alisha, you may return to your bunk. You will sit in the prescribed manner you have been taught. You will do so quietly, until you are instructed to stop. Failure to obey will be dealt with harshly.” That last bit wasn’t strictly necessary. Any act of disobedience was met with swift punishment.
Sam glanced over at Darla. She hadn’t moved. He nodded in approval. Meanwhile Alisha had taken up her assigned spot sitting on her bed. Sam took his time before he corrected her.
“No, that’s not acceptable. Push your hair behind your back. Your collar must be clearly visible at all times. Keep that chin up, and I want to see a straight line from knee to ankle.”
He could see the reluctant way she followed his instructions. It wasn’t enough to earn her a reprimand but she would have to improve. “That’s better,” he told Alisha, hoping a bit of encouragement would motivate her. “Remember, you are not permitted to break your position. Eyes front, do not turn your head. When I return, I will find you exactly as you are now.”
A command stated as a matter of fact. That’s the way Sam liked to operate. To his way of thinking it created a certain acceptance that his wishes were inevitable, that there was no other alternative.
Turning back to Darla, he took his time guiding her to the training room. In part it was a practical necessity; she couldn’t walk very fast with her ankles linked together. Even so, he didn’t press her to hurry. Sam enjoyed her company, despite there being no conversation allowed. She must have noticed the trip was proceeding at a slower than normal pace, judging from the times she quickly glanced up at him with a puzzled expression.
One of the perks of this job is not having to explain myself. Sam grinned at his purely selfish lack of justification. She could draw any inference she liked; it didn’t matter. Darla wasn’t going to raise an objection.
At the unmarked door to the training room Sam brought Darla to a halt. With his hand still on her arm he turned her to face the wall. She knew the rest of the procedure: face the wall, feet wide apart to the limit of the chains, head up, hands in the center of her back. Leaving her in place he unlocked the door and held it open before steering her inside.
The room was the Center’s well-known “Wall of Mirrors”, where one wall was completely covered in mirrored tiles. In front of the wall was a wide blue swath, the area off limits to all females. Typically, there were chairs or cushions used in training exercises. Today was going to be different.
Darla came to a surprised halt when she saw what awaited her. In the center of the otherwise empty room were two sets of wooden stocks, side by side, facing the mirrors. Superficially they resembled the old, medieval style pillory but on closer inspection showed several modernizations. One of the stocks was empty; the other held a woman prisoner in what had to be an uncomfortable position. There wasn’t much guesswork involved as to who would occupy that second set of stocks.
Sam could see she was afraid. It was time he calmed her down. Holding her head in his hands he lifted up her chin so they could see each other eye to eye. “I won’t lie to you. It will not be a pleasant stay in this thing, but I want to stress how important it is for you to join Paula. I’ve never let you come to any harm, and I won’t change that now. I’m asking you, Darla, to cooperate. Make this easy, not hard. Do this for me.”
She stared up at him, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After a quick glance at her companion in adversity, she turned back to Sam. “I’m ready, sir. Tell me what I must do.”
A Private Chat The click of the lock in the silence of the room echoed loudly. Darla watched as the Warden tested the wooden slats that held her neck and wrists. She was firmly clamped in place in the stocks, even to the boards imprisoning her ankles. Between the straps and the stocks there was little room for any kind of movement. Until he released her, she wasn’t going anywhere.
The Warden came around to the front, standing between Darla and the other woman. “This is how it will be,” he began. “Both of you will face front, toward the mirrors, at all times. Do not look to either side, or at each other, no matter what. Your time in these stocks will be doubled if you violate that rule. The extra time will be spent with a gag and hood. If either of you fail to follow my instructions both will be held accountable.”
That got Darla’s attention, fast. Actually, it wasn’t a serious restriction. She could clearly see everything in the reflection from the wall. How would they know if she cheated? Darla sighed even as the thought occurred to her. They’d know because I’d have to confess.
“For this session Paula will be the instructor. Darla, listen to her carefully. She will be in charge; respect her authority.” Those were the magic words for Darla. She couldn’t disappoint Mr. Nice, her Warden. “Paula, you may begin after I leave.”
In the mirror Darla watched him walk away, out the door. Do not turn your head, she forcefully reminded herself. It’s forbidden.
“Hello,” her companion spoke first. “As you heard, my name is Paula. You might remember me from when you first arrived at the Center.”
That’s when Darla recognized Paula. She had been the female guard in the van that had picked her up at Mr. G’s place. The last time Darla saw her had been in the Center’s garage, by the van. Paula had been in the process of removing her uniform when Darla and Alisha had been taken away.
“I don’t understand,” Darla asked. “What are you doing here? I thought you were one of the Wardens.”
Paula began laughing. “Sorry, you don’t realize how funny that sounds. No, I was just playing a part, following orders. My status here in the Center isn’t much different from yours. On occasion I’m given assignments in the Secure Area, like today.” Paula didn’t waver from her stare at the mirrors. “I am not exempt from discipline in here. If I look away, I’ll be punished every bit as severely as you.”
Darla tried to move around in her close-fitting prison. As she feared there was virtually no “wiggle room”, which had to be intentional.
Paula noticed her struggles. “Try to concentrate on something other than the stocks. I have no idea how long we’re going to be here. This is a new experience for me too, so I can’t tell you what to expect. But please, whatever you do, keep your eyes on the mirror. I don’t want to spend an entire day in this nasty piece of furniture.”
“I don’t understand why I’m here.” Darla stared at their reflections. “Am I being punished for something I did? How am I supposed to learn from it if I don’t know what put me here in the first place? Or is it some kind of training? That’s why we’re usually brought to this room. That’s the same problem, what gems of wisdom am I supposed to be absorbing while stuck in this thing?”
“Looks like it’s time for me to go to work,” Paula began. “I do have some specific instructions on how I’m to conduct this session, so bear with me. I can tell you we’re not being punished. You’re right, our time here is to be considered training, but don’t ask me for details. For now, let me do the talking. I’ll tell you when I’m done.”
The news was a relief to Darla. For some reason the idea she had somehow disappointed that Warden, Mr. Nice, weighed heavily on her mind. She studied her instructor in the mirror. This Paula seemed to be unperturbed at the prospect of spending hours immobilized in the stocks. What was her story, and why had she reappeared now?
“To start off, we’re here in this room for two main reasons. The first, and the obvious one, is to obey the men in charge of us. We were left with very clear and specific instructions on how we should behave. That means staring at the mirror, to the exclusion of all else.”
Darla studied Paula’s image as she spoke. It was only natural to face the person talking to you. Looking away was an act of rudeness. Or it would be if not for the point Paula was making. Turning her head to look at Paula would be the height of disobedience. Darla had to keep facing forward because there was no alternative.
“Ordinarily what we are doing might seem silly if not outright absurd.” Paula paused for a moment. “If that’s how you see it then you haven’t been picking up on what the Center is trying to teach you. Self-discipline, our dedication to what is right and proper, begins and ends with the attitude that our men, our owners, know what is best for us. Even if it makes no sense, like being locked into these stocks and staring at our reflections, we do as we are told though it might cause us to doubt their sanity.”
Owners? What was that about? Though she’d like to ask, Darla felt she should keep to the subject at hand. “We aren’t robots. Shouldn’t we have some say in what they impose on us, or at least be given an explanation? If I knew the reason why I was here then I’d be equipped to do a better job of delivering whatever it is the Center wants from me?”
There was an odd, distracted expression to Paula’s reflection. “If we need to know we will be told.” The monotone response implied this was one of those inflexible policies for which there was no appeal. “Maybe the reason we are stuck here is nothing more than a whim on a Warden’s part. If that’s true, it doesn’t change anything. Your answer is no, we do not have a ‘say’, as you put it. Authority flows in one direction, from the Wardens to us. Do not ever, ever, question your owner’s judgement.”
Owner, there it was again. Darla realized the woman next to her was fanatical about the whole subject of submission to male power, fiercely defensive against any suggestion the men who controlled them should be defied. What would it be like, if I fell into the same mindset as this woman next to me? Would there be anything left of the old Darla staring back at her in the mirror?
“The other reason we’re here is to have a conversation with you about a sensitive subject.” Darla turned her attention back to Paula and the mirror. “It comes down to a simple question. Do you have the commitment needed to become a man’s property, in the most literal sense of the word? Can you look up at the man standing next to you and proudly introduce him as your owner? If anyone asks, are you prepared to explain how you belong to him, that you are his possession?”
So that’s it! It was obvious to Darla that in Paula’s case she had found the answers long ago. Kneeling next to her was a woman who had no doubts as to her place in life, a place where she belonged, in the truest sense of the word, to her man. Paula wasn’t the one on the spot though.
Given the circumstances Darla couldn’t ignore Paula’s pointed questions. Her first impulse was to simply deny the whole concept as barbaric. Outside these walls she’d dismiss the idea as fantasy. But she wasn’t back in Los Angeles, and in her present circumstances the question wasn’t so easy to laugh off as silly nonsense.
Mr. G’s parting words came back to haunt her. Total loss of control, was that her secret desire she dared not admit, even to herself? Paula wasn’t pushing for an immediate answer, though Darla could see her unwavering stare in the mirror. There was no dodging the question; this was one of those once in a lifetime moments when the choice was down to either the status quo or radical change.
“Yes. Yes, I can make that commitment,” Darla answered softly, speaking more to herself than in reply to Paula.
From the Other Side Sam made sure the door to the corridor was closed before he pushed aside the curtain to enter the observation room. The "Wall of Mirrors” was actually a two-way setup. In the dark Sam was invisible. He slipped on the headphones in order to hear the conversation between Darla and Paula.
Cameras were convenient but there were times it was more satisfying to watch through the mirrors. The cameras were limited in revealing the small visual cues that only came out with an unobstructed view in real time. The observation room was a closely guarded secret in the Secure Area. None of the women, not even Paula, were aware of its existence.
Sam’s seat was directly across from Darla. Both she and Paula were rigidly fixed in place by the stocks. There would be no walking away to hide raw emotions. His intention was to force the issue that plagued him. Darla wasn’t here by choice; Sam had to determine if she perceived her confinement as harmful or beneficial.
The remark about not being a robot caught his attention. It was revealing in how she saw her role as actively participating, driven by a need to contribute and not passively react to events. Paula’s response brought on a grin. Her reputation for fanatical, unquestioning obedience was well known in the Center. Rather on the extreme side for my taste, but Big Mike, her owner, didn’t seem to be bothered by it.
Paula skillfully guided the conversation to the critical question; the reason Sam had arranged for the room session. Darla’s answer settled all doubts. Whatever it took, he would claim this woman as his own, regardless of whatever obstacles might surface.
A Trade His firm grip on her upper arm wasn’t painful. Darla stole a glance up at the Warden at her side. This was the one she called Mr. Nice. As long as she behaved, he wasn’t harsh, nor did he handle her roughly. As usual she had no idea where they were going or the reason why.
This time she was alone, singled out for…what? If she asked, he wouldn’t answer her, except maybe to deliver a reprimand for misbehaving. It didn’t take long to learn how the Center operated. Curiosity was not high on the Wardens’ “acceptable behavior” list.
It was increasingly obvious to Darla how the environment was affecting her. More and more she was adopting a passive, almost fatalistic attitude. There was no alternative to trusting in the ultimate good intentions of her captors.
The man next to her did help in keeping up an optimistic outlook. Like all the Wardens he was dressed in a black uniform, with polished jackboots and a police style basket weave belt. Today he’d added one more accessory: dark sunglasses that hid his eyes. The sight of him nearly took her breath away. All those power symbols played directly into her weakness for men in authority.
Your Master Requires Your Commitment · Part 3 (3/4)
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