2012 Holiday Gift Exchange

[kaelaaw]

I didn’t want to break.

My master wanted to break me. He told me when he brought me home those many months ago. It was the first thing he said to me in fact.

“You are so pretty, those beautiful blues will look so perfect with tears, when I break you.”

It was my master’s wish that I be broken and a good slave should honor his master wishes.  A good slave should let his master break him.

I am not a good slave.

I’m not even a decent slave. I’m a liar and  a cheat and a  manipulator . I look out for myself first and my master second (if it’s beneficial to me) and everyone else can fend for themselves.

Karl taught me how to protect myself from being broken. I could never master the trick when we practiced but he assured me that I had the gift and it would manifest when I needed it. Well I needed it now because I was about to do what only female slaves can get away with. I was going to fake it.

I could hear his footsteps as he walked up to my cage. I unfocused my eyes and calmed my body and mind. Every day since he started I pictured a unbreakable safe and I imagined putting my self-esteem in that safe and locking it up. I kept out my pride. I knew I should have put it in there also but I needed it to fight him. It would be too strange if I gave in right away. I needed my pride to pretend to fight him.  With my pride I could make him feel as if he were wearing me down. He enjoyed the fight and it made him cocky. I wanted him cocky, he wouldn’t think it odd that he was getting what he wanted so soon.  But this time I put my pride in the safe.

Although I tried it from the moment he pulled my out of my cage the gift did not manifest until he closed the last shackle. Then I  felt as if I were floating up out of my body. Like a ghost I hovered up in the rafters looking down on him and me. It looked like my body but it didn’t feel like I was really seeing myself. And as he hurt me and mocked me it didn’t feel like I was seeing something real. It felt like a staged play with actors faking their blows and everything was fuzzy or blurry.  I watched the me that was not me defy him for several hours and then the  body that was not mine slumped and the light seemed to fade in my ‘not’ eyes.

He literally danced around with joy. Cheering and preening he moved around the old dungeon. Every few moments he would push back my ‘not’ head look into my ‘not’ eyes and laugh.

After a few moments I felt myself being pulled into the body and it all started to feel real again. And I blacked out.

When I came to I heard voices.

“He is catatonic Mr. Jones. Nearly comatose.” It was the voice of my master’s personal physician.

“Do you think he is likely to recover?” My master’s voice asked.

“Perhaps a little, but he would need constant care. It would be like having an infant or an elderly person who has become feeble minded. What happened to him? If you don’t mind my asking.” The physician replied.

“I do mind.” My master snapped. He seemed to have calmed a bit when he spoke again. “Well there is no more use for him I suppose.” There was a faint scratching sound.  “Here, your usual fee for house calls. And a little something extra if you will drop him off at a disposal facility on your way home.”

“I can not dispose of a slave I do not own, Mr. Jones. Appropriate paperwork is required.” The physician commented.

“Oh yes of course. Just give me a moment.” There were sounds of footsteps moving around. More scratching which I identified as someone writing something on paper. And then my master’s voice spoke again. “Here he is now officially yours.”

“There are a lot of forms to sign. I could spend quite a bit of my time there. Time I could be using to see patients. Patients who pay me.....” The physician continued to object.

“How many more zeros do I need to add before the decimal, Martin?” My master’s voice was at that place that said he was about to get angry. I squashed the instinct to curl in on myself.

“Two more will be sufficient, Mr. Jones.” The physician answered.

“Done.” My master answered.

I faded in and out after that. I know someone lifted me and carried me for a while and I ended up in a cage in a trunk. Reality slowly came upon me and with it came the pain. I blocked the pain as best I could and I tried to get my mental wheels turning. It wasn’t until the car stopped that I was able to think clearly again and I had to think fast I knew where we were.

“Please master, don’t kill me.” I begged as soon as the trunk door opened.

“What? You can talk?” The physical peered at me rubbing his eyes a few times. “Say something else.”

“Yes, master. I can talk master. I can form full sentences. I can recite the alphabet. I can even tell you what cross streets we are on if you let me look past you. I can do anything you like just please don’t take me in that building.” I begged again.

“Remarkable recovery....” The man kept staring at me. “What a great study you would be....”

Crap! I did not want to be a lab rat. “Yes, master but you would not be able to tell anyone or publish any of your work.”

“Wait what? How do you mean slave?” The physician's voice went from puzzled to overly dramatic.

My guess was right the man had never really had to deal with slaves. I was probably the first one he had ‘treated’. Sure his patients had them but he never did. This was going to be too easy. “If you did, word would get back to Master Jones. He would be very upset to find out you didn’t do what he paid you to.”

The physician thought about it for a long time. “Well curses.” He looked at me with a long sigh. “Then I guess I had better do as he said.” He didn’t look very pleased about doing so. Perhaps the added decimal points were to assuage his misgivings. I took a chance.

“But you took an oath master.” I quickly replied. He wasn’t a slave doctor so his hippocratic oath wasn’t reworded to allow for the ‘disposal’ of his patients.

“Hmm that is true.“ The physician pondered.  “But then I can’t keep you. I mean I would have to completely relocate. All my current patients here are close friends of Mr. Jones they would notice that my new slave looks exactly like his old one. Such a shame to go through all that work for a slave I have no use for.” He was talking himself out of his oath the bastard.

“You could sell me master.” I offered.

“But everyone here would know who you are and who you used to belong to. I would be right back where I started.” He countered.

“There was a slave trade convention here this week. It ended today. Some of the traders are still here for the night. You could sell me to one of them and they would be leaving first thing in the morning.” I gave my own counter. I was very grateful my master used current newspapers in my cage.

“And I suppose you happen to know where this convention is?” He asked.

“Yes, master.” I needed to reel him in. “Also there is far less paperwork involved in selling a slave then in disposing of one. Also the disposal center will not pay you for your time and effort.”

“Hmm.” He tried to look thoughtful but I could practically see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes. He shut the lid to the trunk and gave a relieved sigh.

When he opened it again I painted the picture of perfect submission on my face. “Master if I might offer a suggestion for increasing my value?”

“Yes, go on.” The physician answered while he secured a leash to my collar and started to unlock the cage.

“They are going to inspect me and put me through some standard tests to determine my skill and physical health. Master Jones, as you know, was practicing the art of torture without causing any visible damage so I will pass that part.” I paused for a moment and tried to look apologetic. “However I am still in a lot of pain and my movements will reflect that. If you happen to have any painkillers....I am sure I could improve my test scores.”

“Oh yes of course after what he put you through.” The physician left to get some. I smiled a slave doctor would never waste painkillers on a slave. But a physician who treated free people....

When he returned he paused. “They won’t run a drug test will they? I could loose my license for giving pain killers to someone who isn’t my patient.”

It took all my willpower not to snort and roll my eyes.“Oh no master. Drug testing is way too expensive to give randomly to slaves.” I answered honestly.

“Alright, have you had pain killers before? Will you really be able  to function they make some people sleepy.” Again I could see dollar signs in his eyes. He was not really concerned about me.

“Yes master I have had them before I have a high tolerance.” I assured him and he gave me the pills. I chewed instead of swallowing.

The painkillers helped immensely. When put through my paces, I passed with flying colors. If I had been a dog I could have won best in show. I easily proved my ability to read and write and demonstrated skills in problem solving and time management. I appeared to be in perfect health and the fact that my current master was a physician backed that up beautifully. I earned the slightly good doctor a handsome payout and secured myself a slightly better cage then the standard labor slave. Considering my other options I took it as a win-win.

I got to take my first trip across an ocean. I’d love to say it was a unique experience but being in a cage in the cargo hold of a ship looks a lot like being in the cargo hold of a train. Alright the movement was different and rough seas made for a lot more crashing against bars. But there was enough room that we got to get out and exercise by running around the lines of cages. That was different. Still it would have been nice to have seen the ocean just once.

The next convention I was not yet up for sale. None of us were. The traders kept us in holding rooms and let all the bruises and cuts from travel heal. Not that we sat around and did nothing. There was special training for how to behave on the sale floor. When to speak, where to keep your eyes, do whatever the customer wants you to, nothing I wasn’t already trained to do. But who am I to decide when I need to be retrained in common sense?

When I finally got on the floor I began my search for my new master. Now I know they say a  slave doesn’t choose his master. But like I said I’m not a good slave. Most master revealed what kind of master they would be by their body language and how they interacted with slave and free person alike. Now there were always those who were a mystery by their behavior and those I avoided. It was always easy to tell what kind of slave a buyer was looking for and to appear not to be that kind of slave.

The only time this method did not work was at we slaves called ‘blind auctions’. They put you in a room with a two way mirror that the buyer could stand behind and view you. Orders were issued through a speaker and you don’t know until they came and toke you that you’ve been sold. That was how I ended up with Master Jones. I vowed if I was ever put in one of those rooms again I would just keep running into the wall until I bashed my head in.

It took a few days until the perfect master bumbled his way into the convention. He apologized to every person who bumped him or pushed him aside. He would look over at a row of slaves but as soon as he saw an overseer use his crop on one he would flee to the next trader’s area. He was dressed  well enough to be very wealthy but not the richest man in the world.  He was perfect and he was coming my way.

For display purposes each slave is chained to a post that with a sign on the top that lists our registration number, age, health and skills. It’s rather like the piece of paper they tape to windows of cars at car lots.The chain had enough slack on it for one to move around a bit. This is so you can prove you know how to assume all positions and move around enough to be viewed at any possible angle without the buyer having to move around you.

It also has enough room if you are limber enough, to trip someone who walks down the row. And my soon to be new master did not watch where he stepped. He fell to the ground without a single shred of grace. It took him a few moments to get up as his nice trench coat had gotten twisted around him. This gave the overseer time to arrive. As if I choreographed, it the man made it to  his knees just in time to get a perfect view of the overseer’s foot make contact with the side of my torso and send me sprawling into the post. He even got a good view of my head bang into the post. Well I think he did I wasn’t really able to see anything but stars at the time.

I wasted no time assuming a formal grovelling position. “I’m sorry, sir.” I whimpered as the overseer helped the man to his feet.

“I am so sorry sir.” The overseer did his own bit of grovelling. “I can have him punished right away. Please tell me what instrument you would like used and how many lashes.”

I broke protocol and looked up at the man I was already preparing to think of as ‘master’. Our eyes met and I brought forth all the fear I felt at hearing Master Jones’ footsteps approach my cage. I didn’t speak I knew I didn’t have to.

“Get me the owner of this lot.” The man spoke firmly if a little hoarse. I was willing to bet he had a lump in his throat. I let my head hang in a defeated manner and waited.

As soon as the overseer left, the man approached me. “I am sorry he hurt you. Are you alright?” He sounded truly concerned.

“Yes, sir.” I sniffled.

“Can you stand up?” He asked. I scrambled to my feet as if my life depended on it and even managed a fearful shake. The man didn’t have to but he moved around to get a view of my side where the overseer had kicked me. I didn’t have to see it to know a bruise was already forming, I could feel it. The man moved in front of me again. “Hold still I’m not going to hurt you.” He spoke soft and tender.

I held still as he reached around and felt the back of my head. It hurt when he touched it and winced without thinking. He pressed his hand down along my neck carefully. “Does this hurt?” He asked.

“No, sir.” I answered honestly. Now that I had permission to speak I needed to make my move. “I’m sorry my stupidity and clumsiness caused you to fall sir. Please punish me so I might learn from my mistake.” I intoned with just a hint of sincerity.

“I am not going to punish you.” He responded almost offhandedly. “Now look up at me.” I raised my head and eyes to meet his. The man held his finger up. “Keep your eyes on my finger.” He moved it around and I followed dutifully. Had I picked out a physician? It felt a bit ironic.

About that time the overseer returned with the lot owner and the man stepped back away from me. Immediately the lot owner started in on his apologetic spiel. “I am so very sorry this happened sir. If there is anything I can do for you to make up for this please let me know.

“You can give me ten percent off.” The man replied.

“Yes of course I’ll make it twenty percent off any slave on the lot.” The lot owner responded. A few other overseers were coming up behind him carrying the chest of punishment tools.

“This one.” The man answered pulling the sign off my post. “Bring the paperwork here while I write you a check. I have wasted enough time today.” The man was keeping a tight control on his emotions but I knew that he wanted to get me away from here as quickly as possible. Bless him.

In my entire life as a slave I have never seen a transfer of ownership happen that quickly. The lot owner couldn’t get rid of me and his customer fast enough. My hands were cuffed behind me and a leash was attached to my collar. Although hesaid nothing there was a look of disgust on my new master’s face as he took the other end of my leash. I could tell he wanted to protest the need for a leash but it was strict rule of the convention. All slaves on the premise must be restrained at all times.

As he led me away I learned my new master had never had to keep a slave on a leash before. It was very difficult to follow him. The man kept stopping and turning around, I believe to make sure I was still there and hadn’t fallen down or got ran over in the process. It was a huge relief to finally reach my master’s car

My jaw nearly dropped when my master opened the passenger side door and helped me into the seat of all places. It wasn’t until the doors to the car were locked that he removed the leash.

“Lean forward, please” He spoke gently and I obeyed. He freed my left hand from the cuffs and  attached the empty cuff to the door handle. “I am worried about your injuries and I want you up front where I can keep an eye on you if you pass out.” My master explained. He then strapped me in with a slave harness which would prevent me from attacking him and taking over the car. It would also keep me from banging my head on the dashboard if I indeed passed out., I gathered that was his real concern.

“Now we are going to have your injuries checked out and then I am taking you home.” My master explained while he pulled out of the parking lot. “I am sure you must be scared and confused. I want you to know that I did not buy you just so I could torture you longer for the fall I took earlier. I don’t believe in punishing people for accidents.” What would he say if he knew I tripped him on purpose? “Try to relax but do not fall asleep. If you have a head injury it is unwise to fall asleep.”

I wanted to laugh. Like any slave would fall asleep in the presence of his new master. I didn’t laugh I merely listened. I didn’t speak because I was pretending to be a good slave that only spoke when asked direct question or was given permission to speak. He finally caught on after a moment of silence.

“Do you understand what I am saying?” He asked a direct question.

“Yes, master.” I answered.

The rest of the trip was spent in silence.

The visit to the slave doctor wasn’t anything new or different. Slave doctors were barely considered a step above veterinarians in the medical world. The field did not require as much schooling and a good bedside manner was not required. Once he was done doing the ‘watch my finger’ trick I kept my head down like a good little slave and listened carefully  as the two men discussed my fate.

“He has some minor bruising and abrasions on his side but none of his ribs are broken, small chance a few muscles are bruised as well..There is a small bump on the back of his head but nothing to really be concerned with.” The slave doctor spoke after a lot of poking and prodding. I noticed he did a lot of the same things my new master did only not nearly as gentle.

“How long until he heals?” My master asked.

“He can easily go back to work.” The doctor assured my new master. “The bump to the head might make him a little slow mentally for the rest of the day so you might want to keep his work to physical in nature.”

“That is not what I asked.” My master’s voice grew firm. “Answer my question doctor.” If ever I had heard someone give an order with authority it was now.

“A week or two at most.” The doctor answered sounding cowed.

“That’s better.” My master’s voice went back to normal. “Now do you fill prescriptions here or do I need to go to a pharmacy?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Daeos but I don’t understand what prescription are you talking about?” The doctor asked.

“The one for painkillers.” My master answered as if the doctor was a four year old asking a question he knew the answer to and was being silly.

“Painkillers?” The doctor sounded truly dumbfounded and then he made the connection. “Mr. Daeos painkillers are not necessary his injuries are very minor. And painkillers are an additional cost.”

“I do not care about the cost. I do not want my slave in pain.” My master’s voice implied he was not going to be talked out of this. I held back a smile and gave myself a mental pat on the back for doing such a great job picking this master out.

“It is of course your choice Mr. Daeos I was only trying to make sure you were completely informed.” The doctor replied. “Next door is a pharmacy.” I heard pen on paper. “Here is a prescription for a mild painkiller. Since I do not know how he will react to a strong one I am starting off with light. It is more than sufficient to relieve the pain of his injuries. However if he has any sort of reaction to it I will write you a different one. Instructions will come with it regarding reactions he might have and what you should do about them. He will need to eat before he takes them or else it might force him to empty his stomach which in turn would waste the pill. Any questions?”

“Not at this time. If I come across any I am certain I can call your office?”  Although my master  made it sound like a question I had the feeling he meant it as a statement.

“Of course Mr. Daeos.”

I waited until we were alone in the car to force out some tears and give a slight sniffle. The car immediately pulled to the side. My stomach fluttered for a moment. I was certain he was a comforting type but a small part of me feared he was pulling over for punishment. I hated my former master for installing that irrational fear in me. Logically I knew a man who just bought me pain killers would not pull over to beat me for crying.

“Why are you crying? Is it the pain?” He asked in the most tender voice I had ever heard. His hand reached out to no doubt gently stroke my head. I wanted to lean into it but I forced myself pull away with a finch. His hand pulled back.

“I’m sorry, master.” I looked up at him with wide terror filled eyes. I didn’t fear him I just wanted to see just how kind and comforting  he was.

“You don’t need to be sorry. It was a perfectly understandable reaction to my sudden touch. I assume you have not often been touched kindly?” His kind and caring voice could make the coldest of heart feel warm and fuzzy. I held in a grin of triumph I really could pick them.

“No, master. I’m sorry master.” I gave him my most submissive voice and hung my head.  “Thank you master.....for the pain pills.” I made myself stumble over the words. I took a deep breath as if the next thing I had to say was difficult. “You are so kind master. It made me cry.”
I caught the look of sympathy in his eyes and I knew I was on my way to wrapping him around my little finger.

“Oh you sweet boy.” He stroked my cheek and I appeared to force myself to lean into it.  “We are not far from home and I will get you something to eat and then the pills and the pain will go away.”

I sniffled again. “Thank you master.”

“You are most welcome.” My master responded as if he really meant it. “Now just hold on for a little while longer. We are almost home and then I’ll get you something to eat and you can take your pill and lay down to rest”

“Thank you master.” I didn’t really know what else to say. I was usually so good saying the right things to get what I wanted. But I already had it so I just gave the expected trite answer. The rest of the drive I wondered where I would lay down to rest. I was betting he had a personal slave’s room. Since he didn’t have a personal slave with him and it was listed in my skill sets, I thought he  might have purchased me to fill that role. If not I am sure he had beds in his slave quarters. I was nearly giddy with the prospect of sleeping in a bed again.

I was not at all ready for the place he had chosen. It was a guest bedroom. The kind free people kept at the ready for any other free person who might visit long enough to need their own room. My master did not have a big mansion but his wealth was just as prominently displayed in the rich furnishings of his penthouse. There was one large room that could easily convert into any form of entertaining. It was the only room I saw before he led me to what he actually called ‘my room’. The room was bigger nothing short of luxurious.

He had me sit in one of the big lounge chairs, that had some mysterious purpose, while he went into the bathroom. I heard water running and it had me puzzled. When he came and helped me into the next room,  he had me lean on him for every step since I got out of the car, I was stunned. There was a large sunken bath filled with lightly steaming water and big fluffy bubbles. Perhaps I misheard and this was really his room and I was going to tend him in the bath before I was allowed to rest in his bed. No that didn’t mesh with what he had said previously.

Unless....for a brief moment I wondered if I had misjudged and that was just his ‘public persona’. Maybe all the talk of pain pills with the doctor was to feed his own addiction. And of course he wanted me after he saw I was slightly beat up. My injuries were enough that he could justify to a doctor getting pain pills but not so much that I couldn’t be put straight to work. Maybe he had been playing me all along.

Mentally I smacked myself. If that were true then he would have dropped the pretense in the car. I was a good judge of character and I knew he wasn’t the type to pretend to comfort me in the car just to lull me into a false sense of security so he could torture me later. He wasn’t a sadist I knew first hand what a sadist was like.

My reasoning rang true when he gently helped me settle into the tub. It was not my first time in a luxury bath. I often took them when my masters left  me alone  in their house to do  chores.  I always did the chores first mind you after all no one wanted to work after relaxing in a tub.
But this was my first one with an attentive master nearby and it made me feel a bit awkward. Though not for long as the hot water made my muscles relax and my brain got a bit fuzzy.
There was a knock on a door at some point. And my master left for a brief moment but it barely registered. Until he returned plate covered by a metal dome. He set the plate down next to me along with a glass of iced water. Pulling off the dome revealed the largest sub sandwich I had ever scene.

“I want you to eat as much as you can but do not make yourself sick eating more than your stomach can handle do you understand?” My master’s voice distracted me from the beautiful sight.

“Yes, master. Thank you master!” I spoke eagerly.

“I’m going to stay here with you.” He told me soothingly. “As soon as you’ve eaten your fill I want you to take this pill.” He set a pill down next to the sandwich. “As soon as the pain goes away I want you to tell me. I don’t want to hurt you when I wash your hair and I don’t trust the bump on your head not to hurt.”

I had expected a decent meal from the man. I knew I wouldn’t get a protein bar or something. But water.... with ice in it.....that was completely unexpected. I ate slowly savoring every bite and every sip and to let my stomach adjust. I didn’t have any kind of dressing just meat, cheese and veggies. The meat was seasoned with nothing but salt and pepper. It was perfectly bland for my stomach. I made moaning sounds of pleasure as I ate. I had a feeling that if I showed him things I liked he would give them to me.

I was a bit shocked when the painkillers kicked in. I felt immensely sleepy and the pain was completely gone. The last time the painkillers had just dulled the pain. I immediately told my master, for I did fear falling asleep and drowning. I needed to get the hair washing done quickly and get out of the death trap I was in.

As someone who has washed more than his fair share of hair I recognized his gentle yet efficient work. I was honestly surprised he even knew how. As wealthy as he was I doubted he had ever had to wash his own hair let alone anyone else's.

I shed real tears of gratitude when he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed. Sometime when I wasn’t looking he had pulled the sheets back and so he was able to set me down on the bed and pull the sheets up. I was so completely relaxed I don’t think I could have moved a muscle.

“Now I want you to sleep as long as your body needs to. You may get up only to use the restroom. If you feel like you can’t walk that far there is a button here on the bedside table. Press it and I will come help you.” My master’s words although kind were no less an order. I thought so far it was my favorite order.

“Yes master.” I answered must dutifully.

“Now sleep well, my boy.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead and turned off the light before slipping out of the room. I instantly obeyed his order of going to sleep. I knew I might have nightmares of my previous master, but thanks to my excellent choice of new master I would wake up to a better life. I knew it wouldn’t stay this perfect. He was obviously new to slavery and was the kind of master who thought of his slaves as close to equals and very much a fellow human being. Eventually his peers would show him the light and tell him he was spoiling his slave and our relationship would take on the fundamental master/slave qualities. However I was going to enjoy this phase and milk it for as long as I could. And even when it changed I knew he would not beat me for his pleasure or make me do things that were truly horrible. So I knew I had to work really hard to make him keep me. I wasn’t worried I knew I was more than up to the challenge.