Willow Chapter 5 Beginnings of Purpose
Carl drank his coffee and ate his donut. It was a simple shop with a simple clientele. It was just coffee and donuts. Sure there were cream filled and raised, old fashion and butterscotch donut in the case. But they just served coffee from a pot on the counter. Carl’s kind of a place.
Carl was nothing to look at. In fact most people did not look at him at all. Gray hair that was thinning and cut fairly close to his head and his dark framed glasses gave him a grandfatherly look. No one paid him any attention and no one noticed when he came or left. He was close to invisible. That made him powerful.
He had once used this power to gather evidence for law enforcement, sometimes the FBI, sometimes the odd sheriff’s office. Many departments had called on his services and his parent organization had complied. They liked having a superstar on staff. Carl could sit next to someone who was breaking the law and they would never notice he was there.
His favorite gig had been with fish and game. They paid him to sit, fish and watch other people fish. When someone around him caught too many or a fish that was too big, he would keep sitting there watching where they hid it but quietly radio to the rest of the team. The lawbreakers were always stunned that law enforcement knew right were the evidence was. Some thought they had been caught on satellite while other spread rumors about spy drones. The truth was, it was just Carl.
How does a billionaire and an ex undercover cop become friends? It was a flat tire. Carl’s neighbor was an elderly woman living alone. Carl thought of her like a mother. One day she blew a tire on Highway 101 north of Gilroy. Scared and confused, she called her only friend, her neighbor Carl. Carl rushed down the highway to get to her before she wandered into the road or something worse. But when he arrived at the spot, she was nowhere to be seen. Carl was sure something bad had happened.
When his cellphone rang a few minutes later it was a stranger asking if he would come down and sit with the neighbor while her car was being fixed. Carl charged into the shop expecting the elderly lady to be in tears. Instead she was sipping her tea and telling everyone in the room stories of growing up near Death Valley. When the mechanic came to tell them her car was ready, they were told the bill had already been paid and that they had changed all four tires seeing as how they really needed replacing. They had a number for the man who had paid the bill and Carl called him to say thanks. The call led to coffee at the donut shop and that led to a friendship.
Carl knew him as Peter, a 30ish man who had done well in the valley with the computer stuff. Blackmon knew him as a friendly retired cop. So when Blackmon called and asked to meet him for coffee Carl accepted.
“Peter” came in and sat across from him with his own cup of coffee and asked how Carl was. Then he got down to business.
“Carl, I have a problem and I wanted to ask you if you could help me. I am leaving town for four months. I need someone who can watch over my family while I am gone. I trust you, and I wanted to ask if you could do it?”
Carl thought for a moment. “You asked if I could do it. You did not ask if I would do it. Why the evasion?”
“There is no evasion. I wanted to know if you were available first before we talked specifics. There is more to this than what I just said, but there is no use going forward if you were not available. So, do you want me to keep talking?”
“That was you that paid for Mildred’s funeral?” The neighbor lady had died sitting in her chair doing a Sudoku puzzle. Blackmon had kept track of her through Carl and others. It seemed like the decent thing to do.
“Yes it was me. Is that a problem?”
“One universal truth is that bad people lie. Before we talked further, I wanted to know if you would try to lie to me about it. Even with the best of motives, I don’t trust people who lie.
“Tell me more about this job.”
Thus Carl learned a number of things he had not known about his friend “Peter.” He learned that he was very rich; he learned he lived in the hills above Santa Cruz and he learned he owned slaves.
Lord Blackmon had to make some last-minute arrangements in San Jose the night before he left for the South Pole. This allowed him to drive Page to her meeting with Shadow. Shadow was in town on punishment chip business and had agreed to meet with Page. It was arranged that Lord Blackmon would drop her off at the high-rise condo in downtown San Jose and meet with Shadow alone first and her master would pick her up after his business was concluded.
Page rode the elevator up to Shadow’s floor trying to identify the emotions she was feeling. Shadow had possessed her and Carol for three months. She had been fucked, whipped, caned, flogged and strung up by him. She had sucked, licked, fondled and crawled for hours on end to please him. He had taken a sheltered spoiled girl and made her a slave. Somehow being near him made her feel close again to that spoiled stupid girl that he had seen at the slave store. Page realized she was afraid.
She had dressed for the meeting. She knew what he liked and what would impress him. She had worn blood-red thigh high boots with black stocking visible over the tops of the boots. She had on a red corset and opera gloves. Her slave collar and red lace across her eyes completed the outfit. There was meaning to her selection. Red had been her color when Shadow was training her. Green had been the color for Carol. By wearing red she hoped to honor Shadow’s training and Carol’s memory.
She rang the bell at the front door of the rented condo and then knelt. Her palms were up, her back was straight, her knees were apart and her head was bowed. There she waited.
After a few minutes the door abruptly opened and her former master and trainer was looking down on her, checking her posture and appearance. Page did not move.
“Come inside.” Shadows voice was like a bolt of lightning through Page. It was a cocktail of fear, lust, comfort and dread blasting through her bloodstream all at once.
She stood quickly and gracefully, knowing he was watching her every move. He moved aside and she moved into the room. She saw a kneeling mat already in front of a large chair and moved to kneel there and wait. When he sat down across from her she smoothly and gracefully bowed down, face to the floor with her arms extended in front. This was the position requesting the opportunity to speak. Again, she waited.
“I was, saddened to hear about Carol.” he said with warmth in his voice. “I know you loved her and I know you miss her.” She still remained motionless. Yet she was affected by his words. He knew her and he had known Carol. His words carried much more than a pro-forma platitude. He did know and it warmed her heart to hear from someone who understood.
But this was not the time to cry or break protocol. She was being watched and judged by her trainer and she would be perfect. She would be perfect to honor him. She would be perfect to honor Lord Blackmon. She would be perfect to honor Carol.
Shadow had been watching, even before she rang the doorbell. He had watched her on the security monitor. She was beautiful. She moved with grace, poise, and confidence. Each movement was sensual and erotic. Her outfit was stunning and her manners perfect. He was tempted to run her through a series a movement commands just to watch her complete them but she had requested this meeting. It was important to her and it was important to him that he respect her request.
“You may speak” he finally said.
She sat up but kept her eyes down. “Thank you sir for the kind words regarding Carol. She is missed by My Lord.”
“And me sir.”
“Page, why did you wish to speak to me?”
“Sir, I have been given a task by My Lord that I am not sure I can complete. You taught me, taught us, to strive to do our best and to achieve the best. I fear I will not do my best completing this task. I am seeking your wise counsel so My Lord will be pleased with me.”
“What is the task?”
“Sir, the task I have been given is to train a new slave. My Lord will be gone for some time. He will expect a trained slave when he returns. I am afraid I do not know enough to complete the task.”
Shadow waited for a minute before speaking again.
“Page, what is the most important piece of knowledge a trainer can teach a slave?”
Page was not sure what he was asking. She tried to think. Was positions the most important or verbal responses, or was it sexual skills that were the most important? There was so much that a slave must learn.
Page returned again to her touchstone of truth. “Sir, please forgive this worthless slave for not knowing the answer. I promise that when you educate this slave she will never forget the answer again. Please sir…”
“Page, what have you taught her so far?”
“Sir, so far I have taught her how to groom herself and wash her face and hair. I have begun teaching her about nutrition and exercise and yoga for her balance and movement. We have talked about some positions and what they are called.”
“Page, you have already failed you lord.”
Page could not catch her breath. Failed? Already? Lord Blackmon has not even left for his trip and I have failed already?
“Oh sir, please tell me how I can fix this and not fail my master, please sir.”
“Page, what is the most important piece of knowledge that a trainer can teach a slave?”
It was the same question! Her panic rose higher in her throat. She was going to break down and flee in shame.
No… she was not going to break. Page took control of her breathing and slowed it down. She began her relaxation process to get her emotions under control and centered. How interesting it was that Shadow could cause her as much stress with his words as he could with a whip.
Was that the answer? No, those were techniques to deal with pain and panic. There had to be something else… Was it related to why the control techniques were needed?
“Sir, this slave can see the importance of many things the trainer can teach them. But it is even more important to know when to use those tools and skills. So part of the answer of what is most important is not something a slave does but something they know…”
Shadow continued to wait without impatience. He was letting her evolve from a slave to a trainer. It was interesting to watch.
Page, seemed to be stuck until he saw her sit up a little straighter.
“Sir, I think I see my error. I was teacher Willow how to have pretty hair and skin and how to walk and eat.
“I must teach her she is a slave.”
“Page, you will do fine.”
With this foundation laid, Shadow and Page talked for an hour about different approaches to accomplishing the goal. By the time Lord Blackmon came to the door Page had begun relating the story of how Willow had come into their lives.
Lord Blackmon and Shadow greeted one another with genuine warmth and respect. They talked for a few moments about industry issues but Lord Blackmon needed to get home to complete his trip preparations. The friendship renewed, they parted with a promise that they would get together after the trip and he would tell Shadow all about it.
Page was quiet during their talk and all the way home. She had much to plan. Her abortive attempt had not done much damage Shadow was sure. It was just a matter of getting the training on the right track.
They arrived back at home around the time for dinner. Food was cooked and ready to eat thanks to Willow, but she was still keeping out of sight. Page ate kneeling beside her master’s chair being fed by hand. It was a very intimate way to eat and Page felt tears roll down her face thinking about the long separation they were about to endure.
They made love that night. The tender touching, kissing and sex could only be described as that. They would slow down for a few minutes then they would come together again.
The parting in the morning was tempered by a soft but gentile rain. Soon her master’s car was out of sight and Page was alone with Willow.
“Today we begin your training in earnest.”
Page looked down at Willow. The black-haired girl was kneeling in the middle of the floor in front of the fireplace. The warmth felt good to Willow who was naked. She had not been naked around Page except for the first day. Page had given her shorts and a tank top to wear over a sports bra and panties. These were necessary when they exercised but Willow would wear them all day. That was about to change.
Page took a piece of paper and pen from the side table and placed them in front of Willow.
“Willow, who are you?”
Willow was confused by the question. Page knew who Willow was. In the past two weeks Page had become the best friend the shy and frumpy girl had ever had. They had talked and giggled when Page did Willow’s nails for the first time. What did the question mean?
“I am not…”
“What is your name?”
“My full name is Willow Marie…”
“Write it down. Write it down on the paper in front of you.”
Willow wrote her name at the top of the paper.
Page asked “What is your birth date?”
“My birthday is…”
“Write it down.” Willow did.
“I am going to ask you a series of questions. You are not to respond verbally but write the answers down on the paper. Use both sides. Use every available space. Get your answers down on the paper a quickly as you can. No matter what, keep writing.”
“Where were you born? What is your favorite food? What scares you? What is your favorite color? Name three emotions you have felt. List four friends you have had in the past. What is the name of your best friend? What is your favorite flower?”
Page’s questions kept coming for twenty minutes. She watched page write on both sides of the paper and then begin to fill in the sides and spaces between lines. Finally the paper was full.
“Stop.” Willow finished a final word and then put the pen down.
“Today is a new beginning for you. That means other things are coming to an end. Those things, on the paper, end today. The Willow that thinks those things are important disappears today. Look at the paper. Read each word one more time and know they mean nothing past this moment. That is the old self. Take a few moments to say goodbye.”
Willow looked at the words on the paper. How could Page expect she would stop liking the color blue? How could she forget the name of the only girl that came to her birthday party in third grade? But Willow read each word on both sides.
“Pick up the pen again and write this across the page in big bold letters. Write the word Willow.”
She did as she was told, running the pen back and forth to make the letters stand out.
While she did that Page said “Until you training is complete, until I and My Lord are satisfied with your training, you will only answer and refer to yourself as Slave. Willow is gone. Look at that name one more time, the name on the paper.”
Willow looked at her name for a few moments then looked up a Page.
Willow began to stand up to walk to the fireplace.
“Crawl. Carry the paper in your teeth.”
Willow did as she had been told. When she threw the paper in the fireplace it caught quickly and was soon just ash.
“Slave, was my name on that paper anywhere?”
“What did you put my name down for?”
“You asked who is my best friend? That is you. You are the best friend I have ever had.”
“Look at the paper burn. That changes today too. I am not your friend Page. You will call me Ma’am. Is that clear?”
“I am going to train you. If you are to succeed, if you are going to survive, you will obey every command, answer every question, complete every task, endure every punishment and when you are done you will thank me and ask for more. Know this. I will succeed, that is not the question. The only question is will you survive. Take a moment and look into the fire. Choose for yourself if you will live… or die.” Willow just shivered at her words, the change in Page and what it might mean for the future.
What Willow could not see as she stared into the fire were the tears pouring down Page’s face. To live or to die. That had been the question for Carol. Carol chose to die.
Page got up from the chair and walked out of the room and down the hall. Willow sat still looking at the fire. Soon Page returned with a few things in her hand. She set them down out of sight and took her seat.
“Willow, come here.”
Willow turned from the fire and crawled toward Page.
Willow stopped, confused.
“What did I say?”
“You told me to come…”
“No I did not.”
“But I heard…”
Page uncrossed her legs and stood up in front of Willow.
“We are making a very bad start of things I see. Don’t move.”
Willow watched Page pick up one of the objects she had brought into the room. It was a wide belt with leather cuffs attached. Willow was on all fours and crawling when she had been told to stop. Page looped the heavy belt around Willow waist and buckled it in the back. Page then pulled Willow’s hair firmly but not cruelly to bring her into the kneeling position. Page then attached Willow’s wrists to the attached cuffs on the sides of the belt. Page then picked up another strap and buckled it across Willows elbows drawing them back and together. Page retrieved the black ball gag she had brought and tightly buckled it in Willow’s mouth.
Page stepped in front of Willow again.
“Let us review the past few minutes. I did not call you, because your name is Slave. Did I tell Slave to crawl to me? No. First offense.
“Then you did not properly address me as Ma’am. Second offense.
“Finally you contradicted me when I told you something. Third offense. Not a good start. These must be corrected before they get out of hand.”
Page got a handful of Willow’s hair in her hand an eased her down to the floor. This left Willow’s face and chest on the floor and her ass up in the air, perfect for the crop.
“For the first offense you will receive one stroke from the crop, for the second offense two strokes and for the third you will receive three. So the total is six. I think you can see how this works. Keep track throughout the day. I will ask you where you stand and if the answer is wrong, the punishments will be doubled.”
“Since this is your first, you will not be required to count, thanks me, and beg for another after each stroke. In the future you will.”
Page picked up the last item she had retrieved from the other room. It was a riding crop. It was not a particularly cruel one but it was not a toy or prop. Page stepped to Willow’s side and measured the distance to properly swing the whip. She could see Willow trembling with terror.
The first stroke across her ass sounded like a loud clap. Willow began thrashing around and kicking her legs. Page was prepared for her reaction and grabbed Willow’s hair and yanked her upright. Page put her face close to Willows and could see the tears already forming in her eyes. Willow spoke in the low even tones that had been so terrifying when spoken by her trainer Shadow.
“Not acceptable. I am not demanding that you count, but I do expect you to be still. Each time you thrash around we will begin the punishment again. Is that clear?” Willow nodded her head.
Page lowered Willow’s head to the floor again and stepped to the side to renew the activity.
After the next stroke Willow’s feet drummed the ground but she stayed in place.
“Better. That was one.”
The pace of the strokes was slow allowing Willow to regain control between blows. When all six were completed, Page pulled Willow up to the kneeling position and unbuckled the gag. Before the gag was removed, Page looked into her tear filled eyes and said. “Now think, when I take this out what are you going to do?”
There was a pause for a few heartbeats and then Page pulled the gag free.
Willow swallowed and said “thank you Ma’am for whipping me.”
Page wrinkled her brow. “Slave, that was not a whipping. You will know when you have been whipped. This was a simple cropping and not a hard one at that. You did well getting control of yourself and you remembered to address me as Ma’am. I see progress. You forgot to ask for more which is a shame because that will mean another session, but later. Let us move on.”
Page re-buckled the ball gag in place and then used the strap at Willow’s elbows to help her stand. She then guided Willow into the large bathroom that they had been sharing. Page nudged Willow into the seat in front of the large makeup mirror. Willow could see her eyes red with crying and tears running down her face. She also saw that the bondage caused her chest to be thrust forward and her nipples were hard.
Page notice too and began lightly stroking her right nipple and pinching it in a very pleasant way. Willow, who had almost no sexual experience, was confused by the events of the morning and how she could feel pleasure under these conditions.
Page began Willow’s sexual education then.
“Slave, you were not intended to be a sex slave to Lord Blackmon. The intent was for us to purchase someone who could help me complete some rather dull projects and keep me company till my master returned. But I have other plans. You are going to be my gift to My Lord for his homecoming. I am going to make you into a sexual jewel and a treasured play toy for our master.
“Trust me, you will learn and do things you had never imagined possible. You will also learn they can be pleasurable. You will see. But most of all you will learn that your sexual service will provide joy to your Lord and Master and that will give you the greatest pleasure of all. You may be serving him by touching someone else. But if that is what he wants and is pleased, you will feel the joy of service and submission.”
Page’s hand had wandered down Willow’s chest and was approaching her pussy. But before she got there Page brought her hand upwards as she whispered in Willow’s ear, “So much to teach, so much to see, so much to know…”
Page then stepped away from Willow and looked at her through the mirror.
“But before we begin those lessons, there is much still to do. You must be wholly perfected for the purpose of service. That means that everything that is not perfect for service must go. There is much that we will do to address your weight, your skin, your teeth and your posture. But first we are going to address this mass of hair. We have got to get this under control now.”
Willow was relieved that Page was talking about changing her hair style. But her relief was short-lived and was replaced by a different form of terror as Page picked up a huge electric hair clipper. Willow watched as Page clicked it on and positioned it at her forehead. Page then moved the buzzing machine backwards along Willows scalp. Mountains of dead lifeless hair fell to the floor as Page made pass after pass across Willows skull. Soon all that was left on her head was very short black stubble. But Page was not finished. She then took a can of shaving cream and lathered up Willows head. She then took a disposable razor and shaved her head smooth. Page took a wet towel and wiped the rest of the foam off of her head and admired her handiwork. To complete the task Page took a smaller set of clippers and removed Willow’s eyebrows.
“Much better.” Page said.
She then looked into Willow’s tear filled eyes and said “Think of this as a metaphor for your life. We have removed the past to make room for a new future.”
Willow could only silently sob.