Chapter Five: There's Everything to Fear
Katie flinched as Trent returned from the hall closet and tossed a towel at her.
“Clean up your mess, please, Katie,” he said, and his tone was a sharp contrast to the evil grin that made Katie want to piss herself again.
Katie dropped to the floor with tears running down her cheeks, her throat tight, and a savage blush on her cheeks. She’d just wet herself like a child in front of her boyfriend’s father. Of course, it was made all the more humiliating by the fact that she was wearing a chastity belt, and further because she was doing so under duress. If it would keep her out of prison, however, it seemed a small sacrifice.
She soaked up her urine with the towel, and then cleaned the insides of her legs, before running the towel between them. Cleaning that area was not so easy with the belt. When she was finished, she didn’t know what to do with the towel. Trent, however, had a solution. He took the towel from her, seemingly uncaring as to what was soaking it, and he wrapped it around her neck. He cinched it like it was a designer scarf. Katie could smell the acrid scent of her own alcohol-infused piss.
“Follow me, piss rag,” he instructed and Katie sniffled. The sniffle only reminded her why he’d called her piss rag.
Katie followed him down the stairs to the basement, her hands clammy and palms sweating. She imagined, with each step, the horrible things that were going to happen to her down here. She envisioned being beaten with the crops and whips before Trent anally violated her. She saw, in her mind, being tied to the same bed as Rebecca while he caned her legs. The cameras would capture the entire, horrid episode, and the footage would end up online. Weird perverts that got off on beating girls would jerk off to it.
When they reached the bottom of the steps, Trent instructed her to stand in the middle of the room. Silently, he walked around her in a circle. She could hear every slow step of his shoes against the floor and, somehow, she knew that it was intentional. Finally, he stood before her, his hand on his chin thoughtfully.
“You’re a fucking mess,” he said. “I can’t work with a fucking mess. That’s the end result. It’s not a good place to start. There’s a shower in the back. Let me get that thing off you. I want you clean everywhere.”
“Are you going to––”
He cut her off, “Hush. When I want to hear what you have to say, I’ll ask you.”
He put his finger into the pad on the safe, opened it, and then returned with a set of keys. He unlocked the belt. Katie grimaced as the thing went down her legs, wet with her piss and cunt slime. The toy that Carol had jammed into her fuckhole slid out with a wet suck. Trent showed her to the shower, started the water, and waited.
“Take off your top,” he instructed.
Katie fumbled at the catch and let it fall. He didn’t so much as glance at her tits. His gaze, those disturbing, penetrating dark eyes, remained locked on hers the entire time.
“Clean yourself and come back to me. Clean the belt, too,” he ordered.
Even after cleaning herself, Katie still felt dirty when she returned to the main room. Trent stood in front of one of the walls, looking over the arrayed toys, all the instruments of pleasure and pain. He selected a crop, black, and nearly as long as Katie’s arm. He swished it casually through the air and let her listen to the sound. She imagined the sound it would make when it hit her and she shook. Trent turned around.
“You look frightened, Katie,” he said.
Katie nodded. Trent approached her, the crop in his hand. Katie cowered, drawing in on herself. Trent placed his hand on the small of her back and straightened her posture. Then, he gently straightened her shoulders. He stood in front of her and nodded to himself.
“I’ve never done anything to harm you, have I?” he asked.
“No,” Katie whispered, looking down.
“Eyes up, please,” he ordered.
Katie flicked her eyes up to look into his.
“Do you know what an honorific is, Katie?”
“No.”
“You do, you just don’t know that you do. It’s a title of respect or distinction. You don’t address me by my first name. What do you normally call me?”
“Mr. Keller.”
He nodded and said, “Mister is an honorific. What do you call my wife?”
Katie almost spoke, then stopped herself and corrected, “Miss.”
Trent’s lips curled up in a smile and he nodded.
“You’re not as stupid as you pretend to be,” he said. “Or maybe you are, but you do learn quickly. For the remainder of our public life, you will continue to address me as Mr. Keller. Other times, you will address me as, Sir. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” Katie said.
“Do you know what I do, Katie?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
He nodded again.
“What is it that I do?”
“You’re an… an architect. I think.”
“Yes. Although, I think of myself more as a creator. Designing buildings is what makes me a living. Really, it’s creating that drives me to do it. Most of the time, I start with an empty piece of land and I create something new that will stand on it. Other times, I’m tasked with taking an existing structure and improving it. It’s very fulfilling to create something, to watch it change, to go from an empty lot to something that’s teeming with purpose.”
He walked around her again, running the flat of the crop over her ass, almost lovingly, and then stood before her again.
“The structure itself is sound. It’s ready for improvement. The biggest problem is the inside. The inside is rotten,” he explained and the crop whistled through the air.
Katie yelped and shut her eyes, prepared for the pain that didn’t come. He pulled the crop up short of her pussy and then ran the flat of it between her legs.
“It takes a special kind of slut to rape another girl,” he said. “The kind of slut that can do that, well, she can do anything. She just doesn’t know it.”
Katie choked and began to sob again. Trent wiped away the tear that rolled down her cheek.
“I understand the tears,” he said, his voice calm, almost compassionate. “They aren’t tears of remorse, though. Are they? They’re tears of fear. They’re because you got caught and you’re afraid of what’s going to happen. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Katie nodded.
“Aloud, please.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you respect me, Katie?” he asked.
The question caught Katie off guard.
“Yes, Sir,” she answered.
“No,” he said, shaking his head and running the crop over one of her breasts. “You fear me. You’re afraid of me because I have the power to alter your future. Before today, that wasn’t the case. You could have broken up with Kevin, went on your way, and there would be little that I could do to impact your future. Now, you’ve done something that has given me leverage over you. You, rightfully, fear that power. You don’t respect me, though. You respect the power that I have over you. There’s a difference. Fear and respect can be intermingled, but they don’t have to be. In time, you’ll come to respect me. You’ll always fear me, and there is nothing that I can do to change that. Our new relationship evolved from a place of fear, but it is also your choice. You didn’t give Rebecca a choice in what happened to her.
You, however, did choose to be where you are right now. Remember that. Everything that happens, from today onward, is your choice. You’ll be presented with many choices. One of them will be to admit what you did to the rest of the world and suffer those consequences. The others? There will be so many.”
He ran the crop against her pussy again and when he showed it to her, it was wet.
“Go and sit on the bed,” he commanded. “Put your back against the headboard and spread your legs.”
Katie, trembling, did as she was ordered. Trent retrieved a remote control and turned on the large, flat-panel TV mounted on the wall. He worked at the controls and Katie watched as he located the timestamp from when the rape party had begun. He paused the video. Katie saw herself, perched on top of Rebecca, holding the first of the cuffs in her hand. He set the crop on the bed, in plain view, and then opened a nearby cupboard. He came back with a small notebook and a pen. He opened a drawer in the side table and retrieved a purple vibrator, then handed it to her.
“We’re going to watch a movie,” he said. “I’ve not seen this one, but I hear it’s quite good. You’re in this movie, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Before I start the movie, I’d like you to tell me what was going through your mind at this moment,” he said and gestured toward the screen. “It’s important that you be honest with me. Each time that you are dishonest––and I’ll know when you are–– I will make a mark on this paper. Each mark I make equals one terrible thing that’s going to happen to you. Now, please answer my question.”
Katie choked on her sob and tried to think. She’d been drunk and high. Her thoughts had been muddled and confused. The feeling of having power over Rebecca had been like an aphrodisiac.
“I just felt… powerful,” she admitted. “I was drunk and horny.”
Trent nodded.
“That’s the truth. That’s natural. Power arouses people. Turn on the vibrator.”
Katie fumbled with the toy and turned it on.
“You’re going to masturbate while we watch your movie,” he explained.
Katie looked like she wanted to protest but she stayed quiet and nodded.
Trent continued, “You’re going to get yourself off to the sight of your best friend’s rape. You’ll answer any questions I ask and I will mark your dishonest answers. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Excellent. Now, you may show me that you’re the kind of slut that gets off on girls being raped.”
Katie, crying, put the vibrator against her cunt. Trent started the video. Katie did not want to get herself off to Rebecca’s recorded rape, but her cunt was wet as she slid the vibrating toy into it. On the screen, she watched herself cuffing Rebecca’s wrists. She heard Rebecca protest, struggle, and then beg her to go home. The Katie in the video, instead, cuffed Rebecca’s ankles and began to tongue fuck her friend’s cunt.
“You certainly look like you’re enjoying that, Katie. Do you enjoy licking cunt?” Trent asked.
“Yes, Sir,” Katie answered.
“Had you licked cunt before?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“How often do you lick cunt?”
“Only… one time before,” Katie said and pushed the vibrator deeper.
“When was that?”
“I did it to Rebecca… last night, Sir.”
Trent was thoughtful as he processed the answer and then asked, “Was this the first time that you three raped Rebecca?”
Tears rolled down Katie’s cheeks as she squirmed and fucked herself with the toy.
“No, Sir,” she answered. “We did it last night. She was… too drunk to remember.”
“I see,” Trent said.
On the screen, Kevin pulled Katie’s bottoms aside and pushed his cock into her. Katie trembled on the bed, the vibrator in her cunt, her nipples hard and skin flushed. She watched Cary begin to touch Rebecca. The video captured the sound of Rebecca’s sniffling and crying, even as her friend’s body responded to Katie’s licking. Katie had her first orgasm as she cried herself.
“I’m sure you told her that it was her idea, yes?”
“Yes, Sir,” Katie answered as she continued to masturbate.
Cary swapped places with Kevin and Katie could see the second boy fucking his bigger cock into her as Kevin forced his meat into Rebecca’s mouth. Rebecca’s legs kicked in the restraints, but Katie couldn’t remember if that was from an orgasm or just more struggling.
“Well,” Trent remarked, “there’s a bit more slut in you than I’d have guessed. Look at you! Two dicks in and a mouthful of unwilling cunt. I’m usually a pretty good judge of which girls are sluts, but I have to admit I didn’t peg you for being the kind of sick pervert that you really are.”
Katie choked on a sob as she felt the next orgasm building. By the time Trent stopped the video, showing Katie her own frightened expression as Carol yelled at them, she’d orgasmed five times. There was a wet patch on the bed from her drooling cunt.
“Well, Katie,” Trent said. “You didn’t lie to me once! You continue to surprise me. Keep on masturbating.”
Trent returned to the safe and came back with a handheld video camera. He turned it on, fiddled with it, and pointed it at Katie.
“Repeat after me, Katie. My name is Katie Collins. I’m a disgusting slut that gets off on girls being raped.”
Katie sniffled and said, “My name is Katie Collins. I’m a disgusting slut that gets off on girls being raped.”
Trent stopped the camera. He set it aside with a sigh.
“I’m absolutely famished. Are you hungry Katie?”
Katie’s stomach growled in response, and she considered lying. She didn’t want to think about food.
“Yes, Sir,” she answered.
“Get off of the bed and down on all fours,” he instructed.
Katie obeyed.
“Follow me,” he ordered.
Katie crawled up the steps after him and into the kitchen. Trent fixed himself a sandwich and then dumped a can of dog food into the bowl they kept for those trips when they brought the dog along. The bowl had the name, “Archer” written on it. Trent opened a drawer, pulled out a marker, and scratched the name out. He wrote a new one and set the bowl on the floor in front of Katie. The name read, “Traitor,” in bold, black letters. Katie looked up at him, her eyes pleading, but she didn’t speak.
“Eat up, Traitor,” he said and ruffled her hair.
He took a seat at the table and ate his sandwich as he watched Katie stare at the slimy chunks in the bowl. He smiled as she sniffed at them, and her face screwed up in disgust.
“This weekend isn’t over,” Trent said. “It’s this or nothing.”
“I’m not hungry, Sir,” Katie said.
Trent sighed and said, “That was your first lie.”
Katie’s eyes widened in horror. Trent returned to the drawer and came back with a candle, which he set on the floor in front of Katie.
“You’re sure you aren’t hungry?” he asked.
Katie began to cry and pushed her face into the bowl.
“Good girl,” Trent said.
***
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