Chapter 57: Martha's Predicament

by Kathy R.

Martha couldn't believe it. She had been in the basement dungeon for several days now. She wasn't used or abused too much, hardly at all. That wasn't what she found unbelievable, though. What did bother her was the fact that she was being held here against her wishes -- to the point of it interfering with her life? Asa must be wondering about her disappearance, by now; as well as the Browning family.

She was bored. The man -- she still didn't know his name -- had rotated her from one position of bondage to another. He never sexually used her or did anything exciting. She hadn't even had an orgasm while in this man's care. He didn't want to be forced to ignore her, yet, since their first night here, he's been doing mostly just that -- ignoring her. Now, she was getting antsy. Inactivity was numbing her muscles and lack of conversation was numbing her mind. She had to get out. She didn't care, at this point, if she missed Tommy's trial or not. She wanted a warm bed, warm food and attention. She wanted her life back.

She worked at her present position -- seated on a wooden chair, resting in an old metal tub. The thing was so archaic, he had to have bought it at an antiques shop. She was bound to the chair in the usual manner: ankles and wrists firmly tied to the front legs and armrests, respectfully. A dildo and plug were embedded in her body, albeit not too deeply, but deep enough to make sure she remained firmly pinned in place. She'd been bound to the chair for most of the day, as evidenced by the pool of urine in the tub -- hence its purpose. She was thankful that her anus was plugged so that she wouldn't have to worry about taking a shit while seated. The man had seen to it that she spent most of her time living as a real pet would -- outdoor bathroom trips, eating bland foods from a bowl on the floor, getting bathed regularly, and walked for 10 minutes each day.

She always dreaded that last event -- the walk. It was a walk that literally took them around the neighbourhood. She'd found, that unlike her hope that the house wouldn't look so foreboding during the day, as it did at night, really did look just as scary in the sunlight.

The choke collar was still used daily and Martha had the telltale scrapes and cuts on her neck to prove it. At first sight, one didn't notice them, but upon closer scrutiny, the markings clearly showed darkly upon her browned skin. They would heal soon, Martha was confident of that much, if given the chance to be rid of the collar.

Her nipples, the pierced holes there had been allowed to grow over. Apparently, pets didn't have pierced teats -- not good for when the litter needed to feed. 'Funny how some thoughts paralleled his, at times.' Her mind wandered, as it often had during the last few days. 'He treated her like an animal for so much, that she'd began to feel she really was one.'

She squirmed in her chair. Oh, how she wanted to have some play. This was painfully boring, monotonous, even. The cloth gag that he preferred to use was slowly being chewed away. Even now, as her mind wandered, she chewed on the material, scissoring her jaws to better able to cut through the strands. He never looked at it closely, each time he removed it. He only tugged it to make sure it wasn't bunched up before tying it in place behind her bald head.

And that brought to mind another thought: Why didn't he ever question her about her crimes? He must have checked on his own, by now; but still, one would think he'd ask her for details, in her own words. Mentally, she shrugged. The man was an enigma, leaving her with more and more questions -- and never any answers.

She looked around her, again for the umpteenth time that day. Nothing nearby to use to free herself. Nothing except... She halted all thoughts as she eyed the tub below her. The tub... ?

The tub...

The...

She rocked violently backwards, a feat nearly impossible, except that she was sick and tired of this place. That and anger, with the help of adrenaline, helped to propel her backwards. Chair, tub and woman went flying backwards with a crash. She landed hard, next to the flipped tub. The move had made quite a racket, but she believed she was home alone. Quietly, she waited to be sure of that fact. No sound...

She sat up and looked around her. Kindling lay everywhere.

Kindling?

She smiled. Yes, kindling. The wooden chair had shattered under her sudden assault. She was now able to slip what remained of her bindings off her wrists and ankles. Reaching up, she pulled the tattered remains of the gag from her mouth. Now, for the best part... The door leading out. She smiled, for she knew this door was unlocked.

Martha peered slowly out the front door. The street was quiet. She inched her way out the door, completely naked. The man, the one she first called "master" all those long days ago, had disposed of her white party outfit after her first bath. Now, she stood here, looking like any collared slave.

'Uh oh... '

She reached to her neck and felt the metal teeth of the collar. Quickly, before completely departing the property, she worked to remove the collar -- and found it locked in place. 'Oh yeah, ' she thought to herself. 'He liked to lock it in place when he wasn't going to be around for long periods of time.' She gave up hope of removing it and ran instead for the street.

She kept fingers loosely wound around the collar to keep the teeth from scraping her neck as she worked her way home. She didn't know how far it was, only the direction of it and that was only evident by the fact that she could see the outline of the horizon in the distance -- indication of the approximate location of her home. Not her home, really, but that of the Browning's. She still had to find a place of her own, after having lost her own apartment when she was arrested on that charge of peeping.

That damn Tommy Fielding. She hoped now that she didn't miss his trial date. It had to be close -- maybe even today. She walked faster, hoping against hope that she wasn't too late.

She made it to the Browning's house, uninterrupted. That surprised her, considering how free the men were to halt any female for his own enjoyment, whenever and wherever he chose -- no matter the importance of her own errands at the moment.

She made her way to the back of the house and let herself into the kitchen.

"Child."

Martha froze. Then relaxed and realized that the unexpected sound of the pet name, was a good thing to hear, and it was used by only one man: Master Asa. She got over her initial shock at finding her boss here and rushed to him. Kneeling quickly beside him, barely aware that Mr. Browning was also seated at the table, she blurted out: "Oh, Master! I... I..."