The Greatest Lie Part 7

With my belly full to bursting and my hands tied, I felt as stuffed and helpless as Thanksgiving turkey. This was not the ideal time for my master to begin lecturing me about the importance of being utterly submissive in the holy ritual of sex. He emphasized his points by poking my taut stomach, which roiled painfully. I just kept agreeing and hoping he would finish sooner, so that I could get on to the next torture, whatever that was. When his lecture was through, he untied me, and locked me in the bathroom. He told me that I was to be ready for slave training in twenty minutes. I extracted the butt plug painfully and my insides emptied, leaving me purified. I hurried to blow dry my hair and freshen-up my make up. I applied lubricant liberally to my thoroughly scrubbed ass. He opened the door without knocking as I finished, wordlessly re-tied my hands behind my back and blindfolded me. He led me down a long corridor. I heard the sound of Tran’s voice sobbing, and shuddered in empathy of her suffering and in anticipation of my own.

My master halted me with a yank at my shoulder, then pushed me forward onto my knees. My torso tumbled forward onto a padded platform. He pushed cotton into my ears, and I was plunged into silence and blindness. My eyes strained to detect shadows, my ears for any sound. I heard muffled booms and cries, and felt phantoms passing though the room, but I was left alone. Sensory deprivation combined with apprehension to bring me to a near panic state. I breathed as steadily as I could, but was haunted by memories of the crackhouse, memories of Miguel and the others on Prom night. How had I gotten myself into this? I cursed my poverty, my selfish mother, and my own bad judgment. I caught myself as the brink of an abyss of self loathing and despair. I remembered that I was brilliant, nearly perfect, and ever aspiring to even greater perfection. I had been in far worse situations than this and I always triumphed. I felt sorry for Tran. She lacked my confidence and vision. From her terror-stricken voice in the distance, I sensed her suffering was real. I reminded myself that my suffering would be fabricated, a lie with which to fool these masters.