Twelve Steps To Hell

Chapter 7

Step Two

I’m standing in the vast dining room.

A crystal chandelier hangs over a table that could seat fifty, but only two places are set: that of Mistress Kimiko at the head and my usual spot on the end to her immediate right. We will be having lunch together this afternoon. But first there is this business of inaugurating step two: obedience. Mistress faces me without smiling, her stern demeanor impressing on me the gravity of the situation after the previous month’s easy companionability.

“As its name indicates, this step is all about training you to obey me without question. I do not accept any refusal, argument, pleading, or even hesitation when I issue an order. You have seen how automatically lovely Aiko obeys me. You must do likewise at all times.” She glances over at the maid lurking by the door to the kitchen.

“Aiko darling, my precious little lesbian, did you enjoy milking this male on his first day here, or sucking his p***s clean for me?”

“No, Mistress.”

“How did you feel about it?”

“I hate like madness. I want to bite off and spit foul thing in slave ugly face. I want to puke on slave, torture slave to death and s**t on mangled body.”

“Yet for me you gave this hated male an orgasm. You pleasured him with your hand. You took his p***s into your mouth and sucked on it and then you licked his spilt seed up off the floor, all of this without hesitation. Do you see my slave? This is the kind of obedience I require from you. Take your tie off now and open the top two buttons of your shirt.”

Trembling with trepidation, appalled all over again at the extent of Aiko’s obedience – and of her vitriolic hatred for me – I hasten to comply. When finished I see Mistress approaching me with a length of sturdy black leather in her hands.

“You will no longer dress in the manner of the arrogant American male. Instead of a tie you will wear this for as long as you remain on my property.”

As she holds it forth I see that Mistress Kimiko has a stout collar to fit on me. About two inches in width this is reinforced with a thin metal band. In place of a buckle tongue it features a protruding little hasp from which a padlock dangles. In addition to this, and a steel ring for attaching a leash or tethering chain, a small, black metal box is riveted to the thick leather. On the inside opposite this is a pair of blunt little prongs.

I know what this indicates and I quail with dread inside, not missing Aiko’s expression of malignant gloating as Mistress steps up to me and wraps her collar around my throat. She fits this snugly to me, not so tightly that it will constrict my breathing or won’t move, but ensuring that no matter how it shifts about those blunt prongs will always remain in contact with my neck. Standing so close that her lovely musk and mere proximity cause my linked arousal, p***s pain and miserable frustration to swell yet again (inexplicably exacerbated by her sovereign actions) she snaps the lock shut and smiles faintly down at me from her greater height.

“There; you understand how any disobedience or even hesitation will be responded to now, don’t you, slave?”

I swallow uncomfortably, the tightness in my throat only tangentially related to the heavy collar I’ve been locked into.

“Yes, Mistress Kimiko. This is a restraining collar meant for vicious dogs. It will deliver punishing electric shocks at your discretion.”

“Indeed it will. Just so you properly appreciate the consequences of disappointing me, I’m afraid we need a demonstration.” She looks back over toward the kitchen. “Aiko come over here now.” Turning back to me, Mistress Kimiko’s smile has become distinctly arch.

“You must see that I not only punish disobedience, but that I eventually reward obedience. As a first small repayment for lovely little Aiko, I’m going to allow her to deliver this lesson.” She glances aside at her maid, who is already waiting practically underfoot and seething at me with vindictive expectation. “Would you like that, darling?”

“I love that, Mistress! Aiko love that more than anything right now!”

“Good. Then take this and show my slave what happens to those who dare to disobey Mistress Kimiko.” She hands over a small remote the size of a keychain fob. Seizing this Aiko points it at me with maniacal triumph blazing in her hate-filled eyes. Issuing a sharp cry of exultation she squeezes the button on it ruthlessly.

Though I’m braced for it the pain is so shockingly great that I stagger and wail with agony. Then I actually collapse to the floor as it continues. Jittering and writhing uncontrollably I look up through a shaking smear of tears at evil little Aiko laughing with infinitely wicked relish at me as she continues to point and press that fob. Meanwhile Mistress Kimiko towers seemingly to the ceiling next to her, hands clasped together at her belly inside the voluminous concealing sleeves of her kimono and watching me suffer with amused forbearance. At last after perhaps ten seconds of this torture she speaks up.

“That’s enough, Aiko. Finish preparing lunch now and serve it in five minutes.”

“Yes, Mistress Kimiko.” Flashing me one last gloating sneer of detestation the despicable b***h returns the remote and marches off, her nose proudly in the air and her admittedly sexy little ass twitching prettily side to side in her short ruffled skirt.

“I trust you will never give me reason to press this button myself, will you, slave?”

“No, Mistress Kimiko,” I sob between gasps for breath. I want nothing more than to worm my way over to her and cover her bare feet with my conciliatory tears and kisses. Of course such forward behavior – even touching Mistress without permission – would be a monstrous sin. So I merely shudder with reaction and wait for the involuntary quivering of my jelly-like muscles to abate. After that I follow her next orders with frantic alacrity.

“Come, slave, let us be seated.”

Scrambling wobblingly upright I hurry around to the head of the table.

There I wrestle out her chair – though perhaps throne would be a better word for this hand-carved and deeply polished mahogany monstrosity – and then slide it back under her as she sits. Then as she shakes her sleeves back and takes a sip of water I slip into my own seat. Moments later Aiko places a plate before each of us.

“Eat, slave,” Mistress orders, again with that faintest of smiles.

Looking down at my plate I see cubes of firm red flesh – sashimi, the raw meat of the blue-fin tuna and one of the most expensive dishes in the world. Once again I know immediately what this is about.

On one of our long walks Mistress Kimiko questioned me at length about my environmental convictions. Knowing it might be treacherous territory but mindful of the necessity to be truthful I included my concern about the unsustainable overfishing of the oceans, especially by European and Japanese fleets in pursuit of this particular fish.

I consider it unconscionable that such a magnificent top tier predator is being systematically wiped out so status-seeking yuppies can gorge on a rare delicacy. I had also mentioned shark finning and whaling as concerns, and reported that for ethical reasons the only fish I would eat is tilapia, a freshwater cichlid capable of being farmed sustainably in vast quantities due to their largely vegetarian diet.

Clearly, Mistress presents me with this moral challenge as a test. Well, my parents may have been unable to influence my behavior or beliefs, but Mistress Kimiko is a being of another order entirely. As she picks up her chopsticks I immediately do the same. The blue-fin tuna will have to fend for themselves from now on. I begin to eat with all due propriety.

Mistress nods with approval. “Tell me, slave, are you enjoying your lunch?”

“Perhaps this is an acquired taste, Mistress. I am more accustomed to the products of our unconscionably cruel factory farms than seafood. But I couldn’t ask for better company of course, so yes I am enjoying lunch.”

“I am pleased. Shark fin soup is more of a Chinese delicacy, and not to my taste. But I’ll see to it that you are fed some, as well as whale, that ‘magnificent sentient creature’ we heartless Japanese are so bent on eradicating. I assume you’ve internalized the lesson that ethical considerations are no longer your concern, yes, slave?”

“Of course I have, Mistress. My only concerns in this world are how well I please and obey you at all times.”

“Correct. Dwell on this as you finish your meal in silence. Then I will have a test of a different sort for you.”

I incline my head deferentially and then continue eating. Like a six dollar glass of water I find nothing about the food worthy of its exorbitant price. Nevertheless I clean my plate at the same rate as Mistress does. When we’ve finished she issues new orders.

“Ease my chair back and turn it ninety degrees to the right slave.”

“Yes, Mistress Kimiko.”

“Now remove all your clothes and kneel upright on my right side, facing me from two paces away with your hands behind you.”

Wondering what could be coming now I strip and position myself appropriately. Mistress Kimiko loosens her kimono considerably then, slouches down more comfortably in her chair and rings a little silver bell by her place setting. Within seconds Aiko has returned to the dining room. Mistress smiles widely upon seeing her.

“Aiko, my darling, it’s time we made my new slave’s enforced chastity a bit more onerous for him. Come over here and tie his hands like before. Then you may service me. And you, slave, are not to move a muscle or let your eyes stray away from us for an instant. Instead you will watch Aiko pleasure me and dream of the time when you will be allowed to perform such a service yourself. It is three long months away.”

“Yes, Mistress Kimiko.”

Today’s kimono is a vivid red with white and black embroidery, and as always she wears nothing under it. Aiko again uses my tie to bind my wrists together viciously tight. Mistress Kimiko flips the bottom of that kimono open, exposing her incredible legs right up to the waist. When eager Aiko hurries up she spreads these open.

From where I’m kneeling bound I can’t see her surely heavenly crotch, but the incomparably lucky little maid can. Her eyes gleam greedily as she crouches before our mutual Mistress. Licking her lips with anticipation she dives right in.

As her servant begins pleasuring her in absolutely fanatical fashion, Mistress Kimiko reaches up to free her tremendous fall of hair. She lets this cascade down her right side between us, where the last foot and a half of it piles on the floor. She sighs with delight and slides both hands crosswise into the open front of her kimono to toy with her still mostly hidden breasts. Soon she’s moaning almost continuously as Aiko’s lusty enthusiasm makes itself felt, and my terribly trying ordeal truly gets underway.

Watching my beloved Mistress in s****l ecstasy only five feet away is far more arousing than the most explicit porno movie ever. My own carnal frustration is insanely acute and ever increasing, and the necessity of remaining motionless means that I can’t even squirm in place to ease the intolerable s****l tension supercharging my system. All I can do is keen and whimper on the brink of madness as my entire groin throbs with pain, my hands go quickly numb and my knees grow sore from their prolonged contact from the hard floor. All the while Aiko gasps and moans and gives little cries of epicurean delight as she gorges at her feast, twisting the knife of jealousy that cruelly eviscerates me at the sight of someone else pleasuring my beloved.

With no other distraction available I concentrate fiercely on hating Aiko in an attempt to macerate my maddening arousal. Though I never shift my gaze from the scene in front of me as ordered, I keep it constantly overlaid with the memory of her standing over my electrocuted convulsions, pointing that remote at me, squeezing the button so hard her forearm is corded with the effort and laughing superiorly at me with the nastiest of sadistic viciousness as she tortures me. I believe I could come to loathe this despicable b***h as much as she obviously does me.