Recovery

Nikki woke, hearing footsteps approaching down the hallway. Her whole body ached. She felt as if she had been run over by a truck. Every part of her hurt, inside and out. She hoped that whoever was coming would help her, not hurt her more. She couldn’t take it.

She had learned her lesson. She was nothing. The Serbs were right. It didn’t matter that she was smart. Didn’t matter that she knew how to make conversation, or what fork to use. That she spoke French and knew how to read a corporate financial statement. Didn’t even matter that she knew how to suck cock, or that she was willing to do it. She was just there to exist. To accept. To absorb. To take whatever was given. So it didn’t matter who was coming down the hallway or what they wanted. She’d have to take it.

But she was still so glad to see that it was Mark. So, so, glad. He strode towards her. His face full of concern and love. He would take care of her. He would comfort her. He would make it better. She was sure of it.

“Oh, hun. My Nikki. My girl. Ohhhh hun.” Mark leaned down over her. Taking her in. He saw her matted hair, her body streaked with cum and vaginal fluids, her knees raw, her mouth stuffed with the butt plug.

Mark bent down pulled the plug out of her mouth. He smoothed her filthy hair back from her face. And then he picked her up in his arms, cradling her. His right arm was across her back, under her left arm, his left arm under her knees. She rested her head against his chest, sighing.

Nikki was so happy to be in his arms. She had never been so glad that he was big and strong; he was holding her like a baby. He had just picked her up like she was as light as a feather. She relaxed into him, unable to move, not even to help him. She was like a sack of potatoes or an infant. Not even able to hold her spine steady or use her arms around his neck to help him. But he didn’t seem to mind. He was holding her to him.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He was whispering into her ear. “I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.”

Mark carried her down the hallway. She felt each step jolt through her. Pain shooting through, down to her bones. And still so exhausted. She felt on the edge of passing out. But still glad to be in his arms. Glad he was taking care of her. Glad he had taken responsibility, he was in charge, he was going to make everything all right. And he didn’t seem disappointed. She was barely conscious enough to care, but someplace deep inside her she was warmed by that realization, comforted to know it.

Mark got her back to his room and gently put her down on the mat in the bathroom. He ran a bath and tenderly washed Nikki from head to toe, washing the cum out of her hair, off her body, brushing her teeth, putting salve on her asshole. He carefully lathered her scalp, used a warm washcloth on her chest, her stomach, her back, her ass, rubbing the dried up cum, cleaning her, and caring for her.

Mark held the straw to Nikki’s mouth and urged her to drink from a protein shake he had made for her. She sipped on it, feeling the thick liquid flowing down into her belly, feeling it coat her insides, feeling the love in it. Feeling Mark’s concern, Mark’s care. Knowing that she pleased him, pleased him in some core, important way, because he was caring for her like this.

He picked her back up and brought her into the bedroom. Lay her carefully on the bed. And rubbed her sore muscles with a special homeopathic oil to help the bruising. His fingers warm and comforting, rubbing her calves, her hamstrings, her thighs. He rubbed extra oil into her the muscles of her ass, careful not to press too hard on the bruises from the beating Charles had given her, but making sure that she got the benefits of the healing power of the oil.

Nikki relaxed into his touch. Oh how it felt good to be cared for. She felt warmed, loved, happy – even through her exhaustion.

“Nikki, baby, I am so proud of you.” Mark was whispering in her ear as he was rubbing her back softly. “I was watching you last night. The mirror on the wall next to the bed is actually one way glass – I was sitting behind it.”

Nikki was horrified. Mark had seen her failure. Seen her reduced to a sniveling mass of slave-flesh. Seen her with tears running down her cheeks, with snot wiped across her face. Seen her try, but also seen her fail. He had seen her unable to rise to the task. Had seen her become nothing but flesh, weak flesh. He had seen her unable to summon the will required to serve, and had seen her serve anyway, serve only as a receptacle. Had seen the Serbs thrusting into her, seen them using her, cumming into her.

At the same time, there was something wonderfully liberating about the fact that he was still proud of her. Still loved her. Was still taking care of her. Was still her trainer and still in charge of her. She didn’t have to impress, not with her knowledge, not with her skill. She just had to be. Had to submit. That she could do. She felt her body reacting to the idea of it, felt the spark of arousal as she remembered.

“You don’t even need to tell me how it felt. I saw.” Mark sounded thoughtful, as he continued to touch Nikki’s body. “I know you wanted to please. I could see the effort in your face, in your body. And I saw you realize you couldn’t do it, that you didn’t have enough energy left.”

Nikki remembered the sensation. The despair. The desperation. But more than anything else the failure. She hadn’t been able to do it. And she had been so worried about disappointing Mark, about failing to please the Serbs.

But this was what they had wanted. They wanted to see her try. They wanted her best effort. But they were going to make her fail. Push her to her limits. Beyond her limits. They were going to find the very edge of what she could handle.

Nikki felt the intensity of her submission in this moment. She had been reduced to nothingness, and that had been part of her submission. Part of the task had been to feel the helplessness of failure. They had wanted her to feel the emotions of it. They had wanted to see her try, and try, and try; to push herself. And then they had wanted to see her break down. She had been totally helpless, more helpless than being bound, because she had been helpless from the inside out. It was not an external constraint imposed on her, but a constraint she had found within herself. Even more powerful.

She thought back to the feeling of it, and felt warm. A warmth oozing out from her core. Without thinking about it, she found herself rocking her hips into the bed. Mark’s hands were still on her, rubbing the oil into her spine. But now she was thrusting into the bed, she had spread her legs slightly and she was pushing her clit into the bedding, trying to get some friction.

Nikki remembered the Serbs’ faces as they pushed her, watched her fall, laughed at her efforts. She remembered the feeling of the helplessness, her hands tied behind her back, but wanting to get up. She remembered the force of will to get herself off the floor. And then the feeling of total inadequacy as she couldn’t. She felt small, weak, powerless – and aroused.

She was not some important business woman, billing out her time at hundreds of dollars per hour and telling people what to do. She wasn’t negotiating contracts or designing solutions. She was a sex-slave. Simple. Straightforward. Uncomplicated. She didn’t need to worry about failure. She just needed to be.

“That’s right, hun. Feel it.” Mark had noticed her response. He saw how the memory of the night before was affecting her. Saw her arousal building within her.

“You are a slave. You have handed your self over to me and to those I designate. Your responses, reactions, feelings – they are all valued. None of them are bad. As long as you bring your honesty and your real emotions, you will please me.”

Nikki moaned.

“Last night you learned just how weak you are. You learned that you can be controlled, manipulated even in failure. And that it is accepted; you are accepted.”

Nikki was still exhausted. Yes she was clean now, but her muscles all still ached. She was sore, inside and out. Her stomach muscles hurt with each breath. And she was sleepy. So sleepy. Felt like she hadn’t slept in days. She had been up late for the party, then up early for her hike with Mark. And the Serbs had kept her up almost all night. She needed sleep.

She needed sexual release even more than she needed sleep. She could feel the tension in her body. She was completely exhausted, unable to move, but the arousal was deep in her, deeper than her skin, deeper even than her muscles, it was in her heart, in her internal organs.

Having been reduced to the most elemental of states, having her weakness exposed, having her pride stripped away, being taken all the way down to the studs, like a house being remodeled, it made her aroused in this deep way. She couldn’t explain it. Didn’t understand it. Wouldn’t have believed it two months ago. But here she was. The arousal was undeniable; it needed to be satisfied.

Nikki moaned into the pillow, feeling Mark’s strong hands still on her. She wanted him, needed him. Wished for him. Hoped he would see it, feel it, and have pity on her. That he would give her pleasure and prove to her that he still cared for her. Still found her submission attractive.

Mark slipped his hands further down on her body. Nikki felt them on her thighs, spreading her legs a little wider. Now he was sliding them up the inside of her thighs.

Nikki moaned more. She wanted to move into his hands, to rock back into him. To slide her body back and forth, to feel him push into her. But she was too tired. She couldn’t move a muscle. She could only accept what he was doing.

Now Mark’s hands were at her sex. He was spreading her open, her ass in the air, her face pressed into the pillow. She felt his breath on her. The warmth of him hovering over her.

Ohhhh! He was going to put his mouth on her. Nikki closed her eyes and relaxed into it. Felt him spread her with his hands. Felt him tenderly turn her over, limp as a doll. Felt his lips softly touch her labia. Ohhhh! The warmth, the wetness. So wonderful, so beautiful. She felt like he was surrounding her, bathing her in warmth. She felt enveloped by it.

Nikki also felt the inevitability of her own climax. She didn’t need to reach for it, try for it, try to will it to come. It was going to come on its own accord. She didn’t have the energy to try for it anyway. She could only relax into it. And wait.

Mark was moving his mouth on her now. Pulling his tongue up from the bottom of her pubis, right above her anus, tracing the length of her labia. She felt the trail of wetness as he moved his head. Felt his whole face buried in her. Felt his nose, his cheeks. Felt his acceptance.

He pulled her clit into his mouth. His lips surrounding it. His tongue moving back and forth. It felt so warm. So loving. He pushed his tongue into her. She wanted to arch her back, wanted to press her hips into him. But she couldn’t. She could only accept his loving caress. He spread her legs wider and she felt the sensations running up her spine, over her scalp, and up her stomach and chest at the same time. It felt as though his lips were touching her entire central nervous system and pushing her up and over, her body awash with sensation, but her muscles unable to tense, so her body relaxed into it. The orgasm rolled over her like a series of soft waves, coming one right after the other. His mouth soft and warm.

Nikki moaned with the pleasure of it. Oh! She was still loved. Still valued. She was still a Mark Gold slave. She was still his. She felt the last ripples travel through her as Mark slid up and took her limp body in his arms. She smelled her sex on his breath, her fluids on his face. He held her, soft and tender, as she drifted off to sleep. She felt her slavery even more. She was perhaps a bit less proud, even more aware of her slavery. She was valued for just her – not her skill, her achievement, her talent – just her. Nikki held that thought in her mind as she drifted off into a deep sleep, Mark’s arms around her, her head on his shoulder, his body protecting her and containing her. She was really and truly a slave.