Perfection-15
- PERFECTION
- by Xenarra
Chapter Fifteen
All heads turned and followed Garrett's departure. Dr. Robbinson's eyes sought out Lyrrane, then flicked toward the door. Lyrrane slipped quietly from the room to find Garrett as the attention once again turned to the auctioneer and the women on the block.
"Alright," Dr. Robbinson said rather grimly into the microphone, "Who would like to open the bidding?"
"One thousand dollars," came the reply from a bearded man at the front of the room.
"Eleven hundred." From across the room came another male voice.
"Twelve fifty." This from a female voice at the far back corner.
The bidding continued hot and heavy until it neared the five thousand dollar mark. There was a lull, then suddenly all three bidders jumped to five grand at the same moment. All three indicated that it was their final offer, and the audience sat completely still, waiting for Dr. Robbinson to resolve the problem.
"Before I make a decision, I must remind you all that the goal here is to provide the best possible place for this girl to recover. I will therefore base my decision on what you can offer her. In the back, the woman, state your name and what you have to offer?"
The tall woman stood and spoke, "My name is Mistress Kim. I have a business approximately 100 miles from here which is devoted to providing top quality lingerie to discriminating ladies. I can offer May room, board, and a job as a model which would improve her self esteem. As we live reasonably close, we would be able to return occasionally so interested parties could check on May's progress. Further, my husband is a psychologist and is willing to give May all the necessary treatment to assure her recovery. Finances are not a problem, and we currently have no other slaves." The woman smiled and sat down next to her husband who sat on a cushion at her feet.
A six foot, four inch teddy bear of a man with a salt and pepper beard and brown hair stood next. "My name is Wayne and I am a hypnotherapist. I have been working with the state mental hospital treating cases involving trauma induced hysteria for three years. I am a member of this club, and live by myself. I have plenty of resources, time, money and space, to give. I would like to add that even if I do not end up buying May, I would like the chance to use my experience to work with whomever is her Master or Mistress to speed her recovery."
Finally, the dark man in the front spoke. "I would like a second chance with May."
The crowd sat dumbfoundedly. "What?" asked the auctioneer.
"I'm not sure, but I think I may have been the first person on the very long string of masters which led May to this point. I knew her by another name. May I try something?"
"If you can unravel any part of this mystery, please feel free," the doctor answered.
The tuxedo clad man strode to the front and mounted the block. He faced Constance and placed both hands on her waist to support her. The other women moved aside. "Constance, recite," he commanded forcefully.
The familiar voice filtered into her brain. Constance opened her eyes and saw, as if through a smokey haze, the outline of the man who had haunted her dreams for months. Unbidden, her arms flipped up and her hands locked behind her head, her legs slid shoulder's width apart. "My name is Constance and I am a slave. My Master is. . . " She stumbled and paused, her eyes still downcast.
"Hold your breath while I count to five. One, two, three, four, five. Now try again."
The crowd didn't exist, the room didn't exist. All the universe was the man in front of her. This was familiar. This was safe. "My name is Constance and I am a slave. My Master is . . . My Master is . . . " She looked up at last and met his powerful eyes. "Master," she cried, then fainted into his arms.
The strong man swept her up and cradled her in his arms. He turned to the crowd and spoke: "My name is Lawrence and I have tried to follow this girl since she left my care. I only lost her once, and you know the results of that. To most of you, I'm an unknown quantity. But I have been learning from Dr. Robbinson, and will continue to do so. I live only a short drive away, and can therefore visit whenever necessary to ensure that Constance receives what she needs. I have been fortunate enough to inherit my assets and have hired top managers so that time and money are not at issue. What I am asking for is a chance to correct a mistake."
The tall man turned back toward the auctioneer, the frail body of the girl held snugly in his arms. "Dr. Robbinson?" he queried.
"Your money is as good as the next man's. I personally know your situation to be extremely stable and secure. I agree for two reasons. First, May, or Constance rather, already recognizes you as her Master. Secondly, you have given your word to work closely with this club to see that mistakes are not repeated. I think we as a community need to have you commit to three things: You will pay the money pledged to Mr. Garrett Harris and assist him in any way possible to use this experience for the basis of his writing. Secondly, you will do everything in your power, including using the resources of Wayne and Mistress Kim, to restore Constance to her former self. And thirdly, you will honor your commitment to allow this club to have an active input into her reeducation by allowing one of my staff to become part of your household."
"I agree to your conditions," Lawrence said. "Does the club recognize my ownership of Constance?" he said as he turned back to the crowd. They responded with a resounding "Yes."
"Sarrena, please find a quiet room for these two. Well now," the doctor said as he turned back to the audience, "On with the auction! Who's next?"
Constance felt the arms tighten about her. She regained consciousness as Lawrence passed through the door, just before the next auctionee stepped up. "My name is Devora, and I am a dominant." The words trailed out the door after them like faint whispers of the past. Constance wiped the words from her mind and falls into an exhausted sleep, still in Lawrence's arms.
"We're going to have to put her in the padded room tonight," Sarrena whispered to Lawrence. "Master Robert gave me very strict instructions about the necessity of restraining her."
"Is that really necessary? You saw how she fell into my arms, didn't you? I doubt she'll cause any trouble now," Lawrence answered.
"Seeing you tonight was quite a shock," Sarrena stated. "She's not going to bounce back immediately, just because she got a glimpse of your shining face. As a matter of fact, Master Robert's suggestion was that she not see much of anyone at first, but be blind folded and learn to respond to verbal stimuli before you allow her to be overwhelmed by the visual stimuli. The restraints are primarily to help her to feel safe, and to prevent her from injuring herself, if she decided to get self destructive again."
They entered a dimly lit room, and Lawrence gently set Constance on the mattress which lay in one corner of the floor. Sarrena left briefly, then returned with a blindfold and some restraints. She bent down to fasten Constance's legs together, when Lawrence interrupted her.
"Wait, I think I have a better idea. Hand me those straps," he ordered as he removed his jacket, tie and shirt. Against her better judgement, Sarrena obeyed, and Lawrence took the straps and moved to the top of the mattress. Sitting with his back braced against the wall and his legs wide apart, he pulled Constance's inert form into his lap and positioned her with her back resting against his chest. Deftly, he applied her blindfold and tied her right arm to his, her left to his. He tossed straps to Sarrena and she secured Constance's bare legs to his trouser clad ones.
"See, she's completely secure." He gave Constance a hug which caused her to hug herself simultaneously. "Furthermore, I can use this dark, relaxed room much more effectively than a regular training room for what I have in mind. You can go now," he said with an air of finality. "I'll be spending the night here."
"Can I get you anything?" Sarrena asked.
"A pillow for behind my back and a glass of water would be very nice, thank you." The items were brought, then the door closed leaving the tired man and the sleeping girl alone, together in the tiny dimly lit room. Lawrence made himself comfortable, enveloped Constance in his arms, and closed his eyes. For a time, both slept. When Constance awoke and found herself unable to see and restrained, she began fighting her unseen tormentor.
Lawrence held her firmly and brought his lips to her ear. He slowly counted to five, whispering the words softly but insistently. Her breathing was still ragged when he finished, but her struggles had stopped.
"Constance, this is your Master. I am holding you. You are safe. No one can hurt you. You cannot see because we are in your closet and the door is closed. What is your name?" he asked.
"Constance?" she answered hesitantly, the words strangled past months of memories.
"That is correct. And who am I?" he asked.
"My Master?" she responded.
"Yes, I am. I am your protector. I am your provider. A Master is a protector and a provider. I am your Master. I am your protector and provider. I will take care of you in all ways. You must listen to what I say and do what I ask if I am to help you. Do you understand?"
"Y Yes, M , M , Master," Constance answered then broke into ragged sobs.
He held her for a moment and let her cry, then blew sharply into her ear. The sudden breath of air startled her, and she stopped her sobs while he spoke.
"I'm here. I'm not going to leave you. I've tied our arms and legs together to show you just how strongly bonded together we are." He moved his arms and legs and hers followed puppet like. "See, you're not going anywhere unless you drag me along." He hugged her again and held her close. "I want you to remember something. I want you to remember being in the closet of your apartment. Do you remember what it looks like?" Constance nodded. "How did you get in this closet?" Lawrence asked gently.
"I, I don't know. I can't remember."
"Constance, I put you in here. Do you remember why?"
"No, I don't know. I'm sorry."
"How do you feel about being in a closet, Constance?"
"I feel scared. I feel alone. I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I'm scared." Her voice rose as the reality of the memory crushed in upon her. She tried to thrash, but Lawrence hugged her firmly. He slowly counted to five in her ear, and she sank limply back into his arms at the sound of his voice.
"Constance, who is holding you right now?"
"You are," she answered.
"And who am I."
"You are my Master," she responded.
"I am your Master. I am your protector and provider. That means I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you. If I am with you, you aren't alone, are you? If I'm going to protect you, you don't have to be scared, do you?" Constance didn't respond, the words were entering her ears, but having difficulty getting into her brain.
"Stand up," Lawrence ordered as he placed his hands against the wall behind him and started pushing himself up. Constance gathered her feet underneath herself and pushed also. As soon as they were both upright, Lawrence walked them awkwardly to the center of the small room. He stretched their arms up, then out to the front of them. Turning a full circle, arms outstretched, he stopped and lowered his arms as the tied pair returned to their point of origin.
"Do you still feel like the walls are closing in?" he asked quietly.
"No," she answered truthfully.
"Why are we tied together?" he asked.
"You want me to know you're here," she answered.
"Yes, but I also want you to know that we're bonded. You are Constance. You are a slave bonded to a Master. I am your Master, I am bonded to you. A Master protects, just like armor. If you ever feel threatened by anyone or anything, remember how it feels to be bonded to me, to have my armor around you." He hugged her long and hard.
"How would you feel if I untied your arms and legs so that we were no longer stuck together?" he asked.
"No, please, don't. I don't want to lose you. You'll go away and I'll be alone. Please, don't do that. Don't, don't, don't . . " her voice dissolved into hysterical sobs.
Lawrence held her tightly, whispering into her ear. "Constance, stop crying. I am your Master. A Master is a protector and a provider. I will not leave you because I am your protector." He counted slowly to five, and she obediently reduced her wailing to whimpers.
"Constance, if a person owned a bird and always kept it in the cage and never, ever let it out to fly, even around the house for exercise, what would happen to the bird?"
"I don't know," she mumbled. "Get sick or fat or something."
"The bird would die, Constance. A Master is a protector. This means that you are protected from others. You are safe. But this also means that I have to protect you from you. I have to watch out for your best interests, even if it means you have to change something you don't particularly want to." He brought his arms together in front of her and began unfastening the strap on one hand.
"I'm going to untie one of your arms. There," he said, tossing the strap in a corner, "now you can leave your arm against mine or you can move it away. Its your choice." Constance pressed her arm tightly against his. He remained motionless for a moment, then slowly raised his arm up and brought it back down again. She stuck to him like glue for the entire trip up and back. They repeated the exercise many times, Constance maintaining her contact with his arm at all times. Finally, Lawrence raised his arm only part of the way up, then stopped.
"Can you go on by yourself?" he asked.
"I . . ., I don't want to," she answered.
"That wasn't the question I asked. Can you?" he responded.
"Ye , Yes . . .," her voice trailed off hesitantly. She hoped with all her might that the question was rhetorical.
"Then do so. I'll be waiting for you right here," he flipped his hand against hers, punctuating the sentence.
Constance had never focused so intently on anything in her life. It took every ounce of willpower she could muster to move her hand away from his. She pushed it up into the air, through the top of the imaginary loop, then brought it back down to rest on top of his.
"Excellent!" he cried, overjoyed at her small success. "Now, do the other." With that he removed and discarded the bindings from their other arms, then raised his to join the first. Her hand followed his until it stopped, then continued on upward without a second prompting. When she brought it down, he hugged her for a long time. "Thank you Constance. You have indeed pleased your Master."
He bent and unfastened their ankles. "You are a slave. You are bonded to me. But you are now able to move by yourself. If we are ever separated, even for a minute, I will always be waiting for you, just like I was waiting for you when you made your hands move away from mine."
"You are beginning to learn to trust me. Now, you must try something harder. Take my hand and walk straight forward to the bed, five steps in front of you." With that, he moved forward, and Constance walked with him, though her steps were hesitant. They reached the mattress, and he pulled her down with him as he sat. He turned her onto her side, then snuggled against her spoon fashion. "Get some sleep," he whispered into her ear. In seconds he was rewarded with the gentle sound of her relaxed breathing. He removed her blindfold to allow her to sleep more peacefully. In her sleep, she clutched his arms about her tightly, removing any chance that he might slip away. "Oh, well," he muttered to himself and, finding a comfortable position, slid into sleep himself, confident in the progress they had made.
Sometime during the night, she attacked him. She had slipped out of his sleeping grasp, gathered the restraints from where he had flung them, and had managed to bind his ankles together before he awoke. He raised himself up on one elbow and confronted her.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Tying you up," she answered moving up to begin to bind his hands while she answered.
"Why?" he asked as he sat up and untied his legs.
She paid no attention to what he was doing as she continued to try to capture his hands. "So I can kill you and escape," she answered calmly.
"What do you want to escape from?" he asked as he caught her hands and bound them together behind her back.
"I don't really know," she said, her vain struggles now over. "I can't remember."
"Constance, what is your name?"
"I don't know."
"Who am I?" the man asked patiently.
"I don't remember. A protector?" she responded.
"Yes, I am your protector. Your name is Constance and you are my slave. I am your Master. A Master protects and provides. Do you still want to kill me?"
"Uh huh. So I can run away."
"Where are you going to run away to?" he asked as he bound her legs together.
"I don't know," she answered distantly.
"How are you going to get out of this room?" he asked as he laid her back on the bed.
"I don't know. Will you help me?" she asked, totally oblivious to her current predicament.
"OK," he said, "but I've got some errands to run. Will you wait for me?" he asked as he replaced her blindfold.
"OK," she said cheerfully and turned away from him. The next sound he heard was her gentle snore. He stood looking at her for a long moment, shaking his head in wonder. It didn't seem possible that the girl he had just bound was the same as the girl he had unbound only hours earlier.
He left the room, secured the door with the key he found in the lock, and wandered down the hall in search of Dr. Robbinson. The sun was just rising as he found the kitchen full of people all sitting around the table in various stages of dress and undress. The faces which greeted his entrance were tired but happy.
"Ah, Lawrence, so nice of you to join us," the doctor said as he moved through the room bearing a steaming cup of coffee. "I believe you know everyone here. Find a seat and tell us what progress you've made with Constance so far. We're having a sort of war council to plan her return to reality."
He sat down, took a big swig of the dark brew, and briefly related his success of the night before. As the 'well dones' died down, he went on to explain Constance's amazing reversal. When he had finished, Wayne jumped in.
"This probably isn't any of my business," he began, "but I don't find this development very surprising at all. Considering all she's been through, I think its amazing she responded to you at all. The key here is the blindfold. As long as she couldn't see, she could buy into the closet story. As soon as she woke, however, and saw a new room, she thought she had dreamed the part with her former Master. Acting independently for the first time in days, she made an attempt to escape her next set of problems."
"I agree with Wayne," Darrien added. "Based on what I saw when she was at Garrett's apartment, the fact that she acted independently borders on amazing. You've really worked wonders in a very short time."
"You certainly got further than I did," Garrett threw in.
The others nodded their heads in agreement.
"Well, that's very nice of you. But she's still lost in space somewhere and I haven't a clue how to get her back to earth on a regular basis," Lawrence persisted. "What am I going to do?"
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