AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Master is the only thing in the universe that matters. Heisthe universe.
So I have to be Toy.
But that’s not what he wants from me either.
When he gives me permission to ask him questions, I try to ask him questions that will make him happy, like, “How can I please you, Master?”
But that makes him angry.
He is withdrawing more and more.
And then it happens. In the bath in the morning, after he washes me, he hands me the cloth and tells me to washmyselfbetween my legs. He no longer makes me beg him to kiss my pussy—he doesn’t ask at all. He stops having sex with me.
A darkness fills me, a whispering terror of what’s to come. Master has grown tired of me. He will kill me soon, and…replace me, maybe?God help the next girl.
That’s a terrible thought, a treacherous thought. Master is good and Master gives pleasure and is merciful whenever I deserve it.
But I can’t stop the thought. If I had the chance and could kill Master to save the next girl, would I?
Maybe.
Finally, after days and days go by, he leads me through a door that’s never opened before, and I know it’s the end. He’s grown weary of me and he’s going to kill me. I am not afraid, just numb and resigned. I glide behind him in a dream, wondering where I’ll go after I die.
It will have to be somewhere better than this.
These rebellious thoughts are coming into my head more and more these days, and they are dangerous. Maybe that’s why he’s going to kill me. Because he can read my mind and he knows that my control is starting to slip.
It’s starting to slip because of him. Because nothing I do is ever, ever good enough for him, because even complete surrender and submission has not satisfied him.
But when he takes me into a room, it’s not what I expected. Visions of a butcher’s table and a row of knives swam through my head…not this.
It’s a room set up for martial arts and sparring. There are punching bags hanging from the walls. There are nunchucks and throwing stars and things I don’t recognize.
He takes off my collar and ankle chains. He points to cubicles that hold clothing, and directs me to put on an outfit of baggy pants, a T-shirt, and sneakers.
“I’m going to teach you self-defense,” he says to me. “Just think, if you get good enough someday, you could kill me and free yourself.” There’s a cruel, challenging glint in his gaze.
I’ll never be that good,I think to myself in despair. And that’s what he intended when he said it. My despair.
He’s trying to make me angry.
“You may reply, Toy.”
“Thank you, Master. I will never be that good, Master.”
“True, unfortunately.” There’s an odd weariness lacing his voice. What does he mean by that? Does he want to die? Once we’re dressed, he leads me over to the mat.
“The style of combat I’ll be teaching you is Krav Maga. It means ‘Contact Combat’ in Hebrew. It was developed by a Jewish man during the rise of the Nazis, and meant to very quickly enable your average civilian to defend themselves in a street-fight. It’s the primary self-defense system taught to the Israeli army, and due to its effectiveness, it’s spread worldwide. Although there are elements of boxing in it, along with many other self-defense systems, it’s not boxing. You’re not going to stand there trading blows until you tire out or your opponent lands a hit that knocks you senseless. The purpose of Krav Maga is to learn to quickly assess the threat, deliver a devastating strike, and get the hell away.”
I nod dully.
He begins teaching me some basic principles. I cautiously go through the motions, terrified that if I try too hard, if I actually hurt him or resist him, I will suffer the consequences. About twenty minutes in, he slaps me in the face so hard I stagger.
“You didn’t even try to block that!” he snaps at me. “If you don’t start putting some effort in, you’ll be strapped down hand and foot in your cell again, with a hood on your head. Is that what you want?”
Panic surges through me, lending me strength. Not the cell. Not the cell. I can’t go back there, ever.Oh God. I’ll die.Without a word of reply, I hook my foot behind his leg in an attempt at a take-down. He moves his leg out of the way and dances back, grinning. I freeze in terror and my heart leaps into my mouth.Am I going back into my cell?My mind starts racing, trying to come up with ways to make him kill me.
“Much better,” he says, his eyes glowing with malice. “During our training sessions, you may do your very best to hit me, knock me out, disable me in any way you can, without consequence.”
