Chapter 5

“You really don’t know how this works, do you Charles?” Tracey’s mom asked, not even bothering to call me Master.

“I know you stole from me. I know you invaded my privacy and rifled through my stuff. I also know you need to be punished for that or you’re just going to think it’s okay to do it again. Now I notice you didn’t use the term of respect you yourself chose. Did I miss something?”

The blush was disappearing from Beverly’s cheeks. She might be naked right now but her body language was not very submissive, so I decided it was okay to think of her as Beverly again instead of just ‘Tracey’s mom’, or even Bebbs. I figured I’d somehow popped the ‘fantasy bubble’ surrounding the pair. Now I wanted to know how I’d done it. I mean I’d spent a shit ton of money in the last twenty four hours and I wanted something for my money, time and all the energy I’d put in so far.

“Look Charlie. I’m a whore, okay? I fuck strangers fer a livin’. I wasn’t always one. I used to be just a regular woman. Then I met Archie. He wasn’ a nice guy who swept me off my feet or nothin’. He was an asshole right from the first time I laid eyes on him. But that turned me on, kay? Long story short, he made me what you see. I was playin’ at bein’ a regular woman but he made me who I really am. I couldn’ go back to being a fucking paralegal or Walmart Greeter or nothin’ now coz I know what I am. Its like tellin’ a man he has to be a woman now, whether he wants to or not. It jus’ don’t work that way. Now Archie’s tol’ me I caint even be a whore no more. So that’s where I’m at. But I still fuck up in other things too. I didn’ even want the stupid pen. It was jus’ habit to take it. I din’ think I’d git caught. But ya caint spank a whore who likes bein’ spanked an’ call it a punishment.”

“So you’re telling me that I’d be rewarding you by spanking you? Is that it? I don’t accept that you should be allowed to get away with stealing from me just because you wanted the punishment,” I said, pretty fucking confused.

“I aint askin’ ya to let me off scot free or nothin’ but you just aint an asshole like Archie and I aint scared of ya. Sorry Charlie.”

“Well I seem to have promised Tracey and if I am one thing, it’s not someone who breaks promises. So where does that leave us?”

“I dunno Charlie. You said you could make the decisions fer me.” Beverly shrugged.

“What would Archie have done then?” I asked.

“He’s whipped me way the hell past the point that I enjoyed it. He had his doctor friend stitch up my cootch once for a week so I couldn’ hide shit in there but that was after he stuffed it full of stinging nettles so it was agony to jus’ breathe let alone work using only my mouth and ass to satisfy the clients. When I pissed, it was like pissing glass shards. This time he fired me. That meant more than jus’ losing my job. He was my Master, Charlie. That’s somethin’ I don’ think you get. I felt like my family had just disowned me. He was like my father and mother rolled into one.” Beverly’s eyes began to tear up again as she seemed to think about what she’d done.

“But why would you agree to let him do shit like that to you?” I asked partly in horror, partly in fascination. I admit that I would like to have seen her with that ugly piece of female flash cleaned up with sutures that held her flaps in place and didn’t let the ugly pink meat inside show when she spread her legs.

“I didn’ git no say in the matter, Charlie. If I wanted a say, I wouldn’ta bin his slave in the first place now, would I?”

“Hell if I know!” I said in frustration. “I wanted to discuss with both of you what your limits are. I’ve read some bondage stuff and there are always limits, safe words and trust that runs both ways, but you’re describing an arrangement without limits. Archie could have killed you if he wanted to, couldn’t he?” I said, finally understanding the depth of Beverly’s submission.

“I dunno where the fuck you got the idea that you have to trust yer slave or yer slave hasta trust you. I wouldnta trusted Archie as far as I could spit. His only rule was to do what he tol’ me or watch out. Sometimes he wouldn’ even tell me what he wanted, then he’d punish me when he decided I’d fucked up. That’s just how it is when yer a slave,” she said, seemingly confused that it could even be any other way.

I was just as confused as her, but from my perspective, I couldn’t even imagine serving someone who didn’t trust me implicitly.

“So even if you were on your best behavior, he could punish you because he felt like it? And yet you chose to stay with him?” The idea was beyond crazy to me.

“I met Butter when she was still Teresa. She decided she wanted to leave. Archie disagreed. You’ve seen Butter. In a way, Archie did me a solid by firing my ass and I dunno why he did it. He coulda just given me to the doc,” Beverly involuntarily shuddered at the thought.

“What would you have done if I wasn’t there to bring you here?” I wondered out loud.

Beverly thought about it for a few seconds before answering, “I woulda crawled back to him an’ begged fer another chance, like last time?” Beverly made it sound like a question.

“He’s fired you before?” I asked, wanting to understand that part first.

“He never used the word, ‘fired’, and he never tol’ me I couldn’ be a whore anymore but he did tell me he was finished with me. This was ages ago. Before Tracey even started at the Catholic school. I got a bad report from Doc when Archie loaned me to him. I was s’posed to help Doc soften up a new girl but I’m no good at that shit.”

“Is it possible that Archie expects you to come crawling back again?” I asked, trying to figure out if Archie was playing some sort of cruel game.

“Fucked if I know! I caint even imagine him doin’ that coz of what he put me through last time after he accepted me back on probation. He’d hafta know I wouldn’ willingly submit to that fucking shit again.”

“Yet you said you’ crawl back if I hadn’t been there,” I pointed out.

“I’da had no choice!” Beverly replied, raising her voice defensively.

“Maybe Archie knew that and wanted you to volunteer for something much harder to do than whatever you did the first time?”

“The first time, I hadda give him one of Tracey’s friends!” Beverly gasped in disbelief. “He KNOWS she aint got any friends anymore. He laughs about how funny it is that she’s so pretty’n doesn’ have a single friend. I know he blames me for that but he’s never said nothing. Even if its true,” Beverly admitted after a pause.

“Bebbs! What the fuck! Whadda ya mean its true?” Tracey exploded at her mother.

Tears were freely flowing down Beverly’s cheeks now but she answered Tracey’s question. “Remember Cindy?”

“Course I do! I jus’ told Master about her. Why?”

“She never called you again coz she was with Archie. He trained her then sold her.”

“But she was only eleven! What the fuck could she do fer Archie? Nevermin’, I aint stupid. That’ just sick!”

“I tried to stop him. He made me give him her name and address. I could only take so much. But that’s why I couldn’t let you have more friends. I caint be made to give up another of yer friends if yer don’ have any.

“And that was just the first time you went crawling back to him. Imagine what he’d demand you hand over if you went crawling back again?” I asked, now more sure of the answer. Beverly was still confused.

“I aint got no money. I got nothin’ but Tracey. Archie knew she’d threatened to run away after the last extended assignment so I might notta had even that. You don’ think he wanted me to volunteer to let Doc operate on me do ya?.” Beverly almost whispered in disbelief.

“No, Beverly. I don’t. I think he made a spur of the moment decision to start the process when he saw Tracey this afternoon.”

“What process? What’s Tracey gotta do with anything?” Beverly looked like she was getting ready to go crazy with confusion now, on top of feeling shame and remorse for what had become of Tracey’s last friend.

“Archie wanted Tracey next. He saw how fabulous she looked today and decided he needed to stat his plan in motion to have you give Tracey to him. He is probably sitting at home right now surprised that you haven’t yet shown up so he could punish you and offer to accept Tracey as part of your punishment, like he took that Cindy girl.”

“He wouldn’t!!” Beverly gasped. He laughs at her behind her back and makes me do things like call her names but he’d never actually do what he did with Cindy! Tracey’s my DAUGHTER!”

“Fuck! I’m gonna kill that motherfucking cock sucker!” Tracey declared, her rage at her mother and Archie spilling out of her mouth as if she were powerless to hold her tongue.

“Both of you stop! Right fucking now!” I yelled above their denials and threats. The silence was deafening.

When I’d let the silence stretch on for ten seconds, I spoke again. “This is all conjecture, using the facts we know for certain. Archie might have meant to fire you and excommunicate you and that’s all. He might have been genuinely pissed off at you, and you taking your own money off him was the straw that broke the camel’s back for him. We just don’t know. What it also means is that there’s no fucking way I’m letting Tracey OR you, Beverly, out of my sight. I’ll think about an appropriate punishment for you snooping and stealing from me while we’re ALL out getting Tracey’s stuff from the hotel.

Both females lowered their heads and acknowledged my statements, Tracey calling me Master and even Beverly using the word, Sir. I must have projected some sort of confident dominance or something based on their submissive replies.

I myself didn’t know what to feel. I seemed to have waded into a river of shit and I didn’t even have water wings to help me float. Without me, Beverly would go back to Archie. She’d admitted as much. If she did, I was certain despite what I’d said, that Tracey would be in danger, so I couldn’t let Beverly think of returning to Archie.

But Beverly couldn’t submit to me like she had to Archie, because she needed an asshole to submit to and I wasn’t an asshole like Archie. I did briefly consider expelling them both from my condo and calling it a day. Did I really need this fucking drama? Maybe my boring life was preferable to this shit? But Tracey had done something to me. In just a day, she’d crawled under my skin, set my world afire and offered to fulfil fantasies I didn’t even know I had.

I’d even talked to Tracey while Beverly had slept on my bed, about me cooking Tracey dinner. I had fantasies of dressing up, lighting candles and having a romantic meal where I could just bask in the glory of Tracey’s eyes for an hour or ten. The guy that is totally done with women wants to just be around Tracey to be happy. But Tracey can’t be happy while she’s worried about her mom. So I had to look after her mom too.

“This changes things a little. Go put one on of my business shirts, Beverly. It’s all you’ll need. You don’t deserve a full set of clothes anyway. You can get dressed too, Tracey. Sorry, we’re going to have to put off our bondage experiment for now. You probably don’t mind deferring it anyway right now, do you?”

“Its about the last thing on my mind right now, Master. Is there any chance we’re going near Seventh on the way to the hotel though?” She asked quietly, pausing at the door to hear my answer.

“I know what you’re thinking babe but it’s not going to happen. We’re either going to carefully plan out what we’re going to do or we’re going to do nothing at all. You are NOT going to confront Archie today, period. From the sound of it, Archie might soon come looking for us anyway.”

I’d just verbalized what was subconsciously worrying me the most. Archie had invested years in Beverly. Surely he wasn’t going to kiss his cash cow goodbye and just move on with his life? Even if Beverly had gotten away with the nine fifty she’d tried to keep from him, the stack of money she’d given Butter to count was many thousands of dollars. If that’s the sort of money Beverly brought in regularly, Archie would surely begin hurting without her resuming her contribution very quickly. My scenario was the only one that made sense. My non-confrontation pact with myself was about to be destroyed whether I wanted it to be or not, was my guess.

Beverly came out of my walk-in buttoning up a white shirt with very fine blue stripes running vertically. It was a winter shirt and it figured, seeing as it was fairly cool outside right now.

“Too many buttons done up, whore. Just the bottom three. I want to be able to see cleavage.”

I knew I was being all demanding and dominant again. For whatever reason, it was easy to do with Beverly and it seemed that she’d do pretty much anything I demanded without complaint or hesitation – except treat me with the fear and respect she awarded Archie.

Seeing Beverly jump to the task of loosening the top four buttons I wondered if I could actually become an asshole. It’d be nice to hold the power over Beverly that Archie did. Then I asked myself the million dollar question. Why? What benefit was there for me in being an asshole? An asshole is just a small-minded person who relies on their abrasive and abusive personality to make up for their lack of charm, whit, intelligence and compassion. Why should I care if being tidy, organized, respectful, compassionate and caring was or wasn’t attractive to Beverly. I wasn’t interested in a bitch who put her own wants and needs over Tracey’s anyway.

Sure, I shared more of the same goals and desires with Archie than I wanted to admit. But where he sought his goals through manipulation, coercion, fear and intimidation, couldn’t I reach my goals through respect, encouragement and being a positive role model for the type of social setup I had described to Tracey? The more I thought of the bologna I’d spouted, the more I was beginning to realize that those had actually really been my most privatist, honestest thoughts.

Beverly herself had said that Archie punished her for no other reason than that he could. Not telling her what the rules were, then declaring that she’d broken one and had to pay the price was like blindfolding her and putting her in the driver’s seat of a race car and telling her she’d better win the race. Why couldn’t Beverly accept that she could feel just as submissive and pleasing while being encouraged to perform, rather than being intimidated at the idea of screwing up? I just felt glad that for all Tracey’s rough edges, she was nothing like her mother ... yet.

Out of nowhere, the idea of training Tracey to be my perfect woman, was added to. It had been years since I’d seen a particular video clip that had made the rounds at work. Of course it was somewhat of a pornographic video clip so it had been kept hush-hush from the boss, but men and women alike had viewed it and forwarded it electronically through the company email system, adding their derisive comments to the thread as it made it’s way to me. I’d viewed it with awe, then read the comments.

There were the usual, ‘This is why the world is like it is’, and ‘What a slut!’ and ‘How could a woman allow this to be done to her???’ but my mind was stuck like a needle in a scratched record with the thought, ‘Wow, what an athlete!’. The video clip was of a woman, naked except for a bunch of horse reins and bridles and shit, pulling a cart with another woman riding it. The woman would liberally use a crop on the girl pulling the cart and it ended just as the rider dismounted and began to play with the bound, flogged cart puller. I’d since found out that that this kind of thing was called pony play and men and women the world over actually did this stuff and more.

The thought had come unbidden as Beverly’s cleavage had come into view again. Something had made me wonder how she’d look dressed as a pony girl, then that had led to images of her and Tracey pulling me around a track in a cart. Finally, I began to think of racing against an opponent.

All of this had been like a flash and had nothing much to do with Archie except that his training methods and mine would have been so different. Would his have produced a champion in a race, or would mine? Both Beverly and Tracey would have been at a distinct disadvantage over a chick with super long legs and no tits or ass, but I think encouraging either of them to do their best instead of threatening loss of limb like Archie had done with Beverly, would have resulted in a close race. Offering a prize for winning instead of only punishment for failure was a trick that worked in all other facets of life, so why not that too? I’d make it known that a loss would be punished, if I was training a ponygirl racer, however I’d also be sure to offer an incentive that would encourage the girl to do better than her normal best.

I looked at Tracey and Beverly and they were looking back at me. It suddenly occurred to me that they were both ready and I was the one off in dreamland. I wondered how long I’d been away with the fairies, thinking of these girls being athletes in a sexy game which took grit and determination.

“Either of you know what a ponygirl is?” I found myself asking.

Beverly said yes and Tracey just gave me a blank look for a few seconds before blushing and asking if that was a girl who had sex with horses.

“I’ll tell you about it on the way to the hotel. See what you think,” I promised them. “Maybe my idea has a seed of a solution to the dilemma we find ourselves in. Oh and Beverly, pop another button. I want to be able to see your belly button.

Beverly’s breath quickened as she undid the required button. For a whore, she was looking particularly reluctant to be showing so much skin. I could probably cross off the idea of her enjoying a streak down Main Street as a fun activity to do later. It definitely helped me appreciate the terror she must have felt earlier when she ran half a block down seventh, naked. The visage she presented in my pinstriped business shirt however, was definitely worth it. I could even see the dimples created in the material by her nipple piercings. Now those had surprised me. They were the only piercings she had. Even her ears were devoid of earrings.

“Show me your cunt, whore,” I next demanded.

When she did, I told her I’d demanded it because for all I knew, she was wearing a pair of my underwear or something else under the shirt, that I hadn’t approved of. I reminded her that even if she couldn’t fully submit to me, she’d better follow my instructions at least to the letter or I’d find creative ways to punish her. It was currently a threat with no substance, since I didn’t have a clue what she’d consider a real punishment to be. I suspect she knew it was an empty threat too.

Admittedly, the shirt was huge on Beverly. I personally knew she was naked underneath it but I doubted that would be any stranger’s first guess. In my time I’d seen a lot of females wearing long shirts that completely covered the skirt or shorts they also wore. That’s why I made Beverly wait next to the car instead of in it, when we got to the hotel to pick up Tracey’s new suitcase. I locked the beamer so she wouldn’t be tempted to cheat and I took more time than I had to when we reached the hotel room. It was nice to be alone with Tracey.