The Dom

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

The Call

I don’t know my name. Jane Doe appears on the hospital forms. It’s better than nothing, I guess, but no one could tell me much beyond that. I’m about thirty, medium length dark blonde hair, fair skin, with grey eyes. Whoever I am I’ve kept my body in good shape; toned, thin waist with no hanging stomach and the ass is in decent shape. Breasts aren’t sagging, in fact they’re pretty good if I say so myself, but none of that helped answer the burning question: Who am I? And no one else at the hospital could either. It didn’t matter how demanding or shrill I got; they just didn’t tell me anything more. Not until they threatened me with tie down straps did I give up bugging them.

‘Be patient, young lady,’ the harried shrink of an old man at the hospital psych ward said. ‘You have just come out of a coma. You must have undergone some kind of shock. There are treatments that will help. You’ll eventually remember. Eventually.’ But after he rushed away to his next hopeless patient I knew that if I wanted to find out about myself then sitting in a dingy day room with a bunch of other poor medicated victims wasn’t the way to do it. I needed to find out what happened to me. So against doctor’s orders, (technically against orders, although it was fairly obvious he was secretly glad there would be one less case file he had to worry about), I checked myself out against medical advice.

My possessions? Well, they found me in a short dress, skimpy panties underneath, and a pair of sandal pumps, all black. Also a small red clutch with exactly one thousand dollars, all wadded up, and one other thing.

A burner cell phone.

No identifying information in it, not even a record of calls previously made. But it was mine, and the only link to my previous life. So, thus provided, I found myself on the streets of Manhattan.

The energy off the streets seemed familiar, as if it were an old friend that happily welcomed me back after an unexpected absence. But that’s all I got from it. No whispers, no clues about who I was. It was like I was born on the streets, and that’s where I had been found by some passersby late one night. The shrink said I was just standing on a corner, staring into space. Unresponsive to any questions, unresisting to any of the EMT’s requests as they laid me on the gurney and loaded me into the ambulance. As they checked my vitals I closed my eyes and didn’t reopen them for several days. So, whatever happened, my old life was already gone.

The shrink insisted something would trigger the memories, some image, or random thought. He absent-mindedly pressed several business cards in my hand that directed me to support groups, to a homeless shelter. All useless. The only thing that helped was that I knew I could afford to stay at a hotel, but not for long. But then, thinking such things got me a flash of a room, dark, my arms tied, with many people around me and they...

There, see? Just as I thought I had something, some kind of memory, it slipped away. Like a taunt from a cruel enemy. So I tried to force the image, but it just got fuzzier until I was practically shouting at myself, like just another crazy street person that everyone tries to ignore as they made a wide berth around me. Yeah, I was shouting at the only person who would listen. So I argued with myself, angry at my situation, at how I didn’t understand how all this happened. At the unfairness of it all. What did I do to deserve this? Nothing, as far as I knew. Nothing. And that’s all I always came back to. I’ve got nothing.

And then the phone rang.

The city noise masked the sound, but then came a rare pause of chaos on the busy New York street. I had already wandered around for several hours, spent some of my precious money for a cheap burger and soft drink, all the while searching the street signs, the store names for a clue, for anything, as to where to go next. But now it was well past sunset and the possibility of spending a night at a homeless shelter to save my money seemed more real with every passing minute. Not until the intersection had somewhat cleared out and the roar of almost constant traffic died down that I realized the phone was ringing. Like a maniac I tore through my clutch, fumbled out the old style flip phone.

‘Hello? Yes? Yes?’ I said, desperate that the caller hadn’t already hung up.

Nothing. No one spoke. I held the phone away from my ear, stared at the display. Text message. I fumbled with the tiny keys, at last found the folder and called it up on the screen.

go 2 wash sq fountain twenty min or U R on ur own move slave

I frowned, stared at the phone in disbelief. ‘Excuse me?’ I said to no one, indignant.

Another text arrived.

want answers start there

‘Wait, wait!’ I said aloud again, pressing the keys like crazy, then sent out a reply. ‘Who are you? Who am I?’

no matter who I am u r only person knows who u r

The phone went dead.

I punched up the phone’s memory. s**t, blocked number. Now what?

Twenty minutes. Crap, where was I? Twenty-sixth and Second. Not far, yet too far. I tried waving down a taxi but they all just zoomed by. Not until I planted myself in the street and played chicken with a cab driver did one stop. Before he finished cursing at me in whatever foreign language I jumped in the back, gave him directions and offered an extra fifty on top of the fare. The promise of a tip shut him up, and I got treated to a patented wild New York City cab ride south on Second, then right on Third. Things slowed down after that, but the driver still pulled some crazy moves and I hung on in back. When we got stuck at a red light I threw the money at him, jumped out, slipped out of my high heels and ran the final block.

I was at the southeast corner of the park. Catching my breath I fiddled my shoes back on and headed inside. It was still a bit of walk to the fountain, but I got there, with about three minutes to spare. The fountain was all lit up. A plume of spray blew my way and helped me cool off from my desperate sprint. A few people were about, couples, groups of friends, but no one that stuck out as a contact. But then, I wasn’t really looking for a person.

The phone rang.

good proven u can follow orders now next level

‘Who are you and your f*****g game?’ I yelled at the phone. A few people turned and stared at me. Get a look at the crazy lady.

take south park exit u will find mstr follow his orders if not u b punished

Punished? f*****g bastard. I texted: what the hell is this

no questions just do it

Dead phone. s**t. Alright, where was this guy? Over there were a group of college age kids, headed for the south park exit. They were a mixture of carefree boys and girls, joking, laughing, totally unaware that some desperate person was pretending to blend in with their group so that I might have some kind of advantage of seeing this mysterious ‘master’ before he saw me.

No such luck. He was waiting, just beyond the edge of the park and he pegged me immediately. An old, well-dressed man with a walking stick. The college kids kept on going into the distance while I stood still. He approached, the walking stick clicking in rhythm with methodical, casual strides, and I found he wasn’t as old I thought. Closer to middle-age, his grey hair and well trimmed beard made him look older. But there was a youthful energy to his step, and his voice was strong.

‘My name is Lorenz.’ He spoke in a calm, soothing voice with a heavy German accent. He paused, then also said, in a bit of a leading way, ‘And your name?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘At the hospital they just called me Jane Doe.’

‘Yes, that makes sense,’ he said, perhaps a little relieved and like he half-expected that name. ‘You will follow me.’

‘Do you know me?’ I said. ‘Do you know my real name?’

‘You will remain no less than three paces behind me. Anything else and your anguishment will begin sooner than you planned.’

I swallowed and got warm. That is, warm between my legs. This man’s simple statement, yet filled with careless power, sent a jolt of anticipation through me. As if I had been waiting for this for a long time and now the day had finally arrived. Lorenz turned and, without another look back, quickly strode out of the park and back on the streets. He didn’t care if I followed or not. But I cared.

I struggled to maintain the three pace limit. After a while I think I fell further behind, then got a little too close when he stopped to wait for a light to change. Soon we were walking down a dark and narrow tree-lined street. Cars were parked on either side facing the same direction with just enough space left in the middle of the street for someone to drive. And that’s where we walked, right down the middle, like Lorenz expected that if anyone came up behind us he didn’t care, they could just wait while we finished our stroll.

I soon lost track of where we went. I did know we covered several blocks with many twists and turns, then turned right down an alley. About twenty yards down the alley brick steps on the left led down to a narrow, steel door. I stayed up on the top step while Lorenz knocked with the walking stick. A panel slid open and dim red light streamed out. Lorenz spoke softly then the panel slid shut. The door grated open. Lorenz accepted a white mask from a white gloved hand

Lorenz came back up the steps. ‘I have delivered you and given my report,’ he said stiffly and with, what? Anger? Why should this stranger be pissed off at me? ‘How your anguishment proceeds is up to you.’

‘My...anguishment?’ I asked, feeling strangely relaxed. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You will soon discover that for yourself. Also, you failed to maintain a respectful distance,’ Lorenz said, his tone now calm but possessing a hint of reprimand. ‘Not to mention improper address to a master and no collar in public. But then you know already these things. Or you should, just by instinct.’

That last word drove away whatever relaxation I felt. ‘Instinct? Now wait just a minute, just because I didn’t follow your orders to the letter! Who the hell do you think you are - ‘

‘I know exactly who I am. And so will you. Now, turn around and bend over.’

I backed up a half step. ‘What?’

‘I said your anguishment would begin early if you didn’t follow my instructions. You’ve already stated that you failed. Such an experience isn’t new to you, whether you admit it or not. Turn around.’ From his walking stick he withdrew, not a sword like so many villains in so many bad movies, but a flexible wooden cane.

My heart skipped a beat. His quiet authority, his unyielding and truthful accusation, and that almost too casual stance of his, cane pointed at the ground but ready to swing up in a flash of a second, made my cheeks flush. The warmth spread down the rest of my body, finding a home between my suddenly weakened legs.

I turned around, my hands somehow finding the cold metal railing as I squinted through the dark to the steel door. Before I got a firm grip Lorenz hiked up the dress and pulled down the panties. The cooling night air flowed over my p***y juices.

He said, ‘Trust.’

Suddenly my jaw locked. I couldn’t speak. It was like I had been gagged, even if I could still make noises deep in my throat.

‘No sense in disturbing the neighbors,’ Lorenz said.

The cane swished through the air.

‘Arrgg!’ I growled.

Again.

‘Urrg!’

Once more.

‘Arrg! Arrg arrg arrg!’

Lorenz backed away. ‘Good. You are fully prepared.’ He snapped his fingers once and suddenly I knew I could speak again. But even though I could I didn’t say anything as I stood there in shock at what just occurred. I also remained submissively still while Lorenz placed the white mask on me. It wrapped nearly all the way around my head, protecting my identity. He bowed and gestured that I should enter. ‘Whatever happens I have fulfilled this part of my obligation. Enjoy your continued anguishment, fraulein.’