The Young Master (Rated R)

2.12

"Belle, it's a pleasure to see you. Both because we've been apart to long and because I'm proud to see you finally taking responsibility for your mistakes. We'll make a good sissy slave out of you yet." I was speechless, staring in shock at my step-brother, Darius, as cold and cruel as Dirk was passionate and selfish. His sharp features accentuated his cold, piercing stare, only his burning red hair gave any hint of warmth, and even that was cut close to his scalp. He towered over me as the tallest member of his family, and with me only a little over five feet, he cut quite the imposing figure. I looked away, hoping to find something less terrifying to look at, but all I saw were walls lines with all manner of torture devices. Spiked paddles, whips, chastity devices, and in the corner, a portable generator with prongs for electrocuting naughty little sissies. Once I saw that my heart sunk...I knew without a doubt, that would be the punishment he chose. I wanted to be brave, wanted to be a good gurl and take my punishment, but I couldn't stop from blubbering, "I'm suh suh sorry! Puh puh please forgive me!"

Darius wore an expression between mock concern and boredom. "But of course you're sorry, Belle, otherwise you wouldn't have volunteered for punishment. Only, and I'm sure this isn't the case, I hope you don't think an apology is currency you can use to buy your way out of punishment. Because as a slave, you don't have any currency, any control, the only real choice you have is how hard you're willing to work to surrender completely...what you're willing to sacrifice to be the perfect slave." The guilt grew more and more vicious as his words sank into me, and the more my shame fed, the hungrier it got. It got to the point that punishment seemed like the easy way out compared to living with the hollow hurt of knowing I was a failure as a sissy. "In fact, since this is your first time being disciplined, I'm going to let you pick what device I use to serve your just desserts. I promise I will use whatever you select, and I won't administer it more harshly if you choose the easy way out."

This was the cruelest cut. Not only did they let me choose to be tortured or to 'get away with' only being eaten alive by guilt, now he was forcing me to pick the my own poison. It was like he said, it wasn't a real choice. I had no control over what I picked. I could either pick something slightly less diabolical and suffer the sting of shame and being racked by regret...or I could pick the most painful punishment possible and work my hardest to surrender completely. So it was with no small amount of pride, and an even greater sense of abject terror, that I wheeled the electroshock device over to the middle of the room right next to a table adorned with leather restraints. "Pleez, Monsieur Darius, pleez punish me with zis."

His eyes lit up ever so slightly, a firefly at the bottom of a deep, dry well. "I have to admit...I'm not sure what to say. Here I had this whole speech prepared about how you are only cheating yourself by picking the smallest paddle on the wall. It was on the tip of my tongue...I practically tripped on it. But you picked out the worst of the worst. I can't use that just for being tardy to one lesson...it's just not proportional." I went through a whole gamut of emotions. I was beaming with pride to see him stunned speechless...I was horrified to think of how awful it must be if even HE thought it was too much...but most of all, I was ashamed that I was getting away with all the sins he didn't know about. 

"Buh buh but, zere was more. I was also late to ze gym. And last night, I came weezout permission...so meeny times I experience zee petit de morte, even weeth Monsieur Dirk. Pleez, punish me weeth the worst you have." Confessions fell from my lips like lead weights, leaving me feeling relieved, but hollow...it was soon filled with an oppressive dread...

"Well..." any spark in him fizzled out as his tone went ice cold, "I'd say you deserve this after all. Get on the table, once this current runs through you, you'll be hopping like a frog on fire. So let's get you tied down so you won't break your cute little neck." I got up on the table and laid down with all the enthusiasm of an autopsy patient. Darius strapped me down tight, the leather biting into my soft, sensitive skin, the minor pain serving as a portent of things to come. If a little discomfort was so difficult for a spoiled sissy like me to endure, then how would I endure actual torture? "Electroshock therapy has been used since the 1930s to treat severe depression. It's said to create a sensation of euphoria after the current completes its circuit through the nervous system. Of course, it is usually administered to an anesthetized patient, so that might not happen in your case." Darius had the professional demeanor of Dr Kevorkian, and I didn't bother trying to look for compassion or mercy in his eyes as he applied the electrodes to my forehead. He told me once that he was the kindest Master in the Harrow House...that he gave us what we would never dream of asking for, but what we desperately needed. I wondered if this was what he had in mind...and then I realized it was exactly what he had in mind. The machine came to life with a steady hum, that must be what the demons hummed in Hell.