The Journal (Her Master's Voice) Read Online Free PDF Page B

without a word. She was where he expected her to be, kneeling on the study floor. He stood silently, looking down at her, his hands behind him. He knew she would be longing to speak, to ask how his day had been, anything, but he also knew she would not dare. He took a deep breath in.
    “Look at me.”
    She did, without a moment’s hesitation.
    “What would you do if you were me?”
    She looked startled at the question and tried to answer him but simply stammered, obviously unable to think what to say. Quickly tiring of her efforts to speak, he jabbed back sharply at her...
    “This would be a good time to use those things we call words we’ve often talked about. Speak, woman, speak. Make an utterance. What would you do if you were me?”
    “Sir, I don’t know, I can’t... I can’t think in those terms, Sir, I don’t think I understand what you want me to say...”
    Again, he cut her off.
    “My, aren’t we wonderfully articulate today? Let me try a different tack; do you think I have punished you enough?”
    Her answer was instant and instinctive.
    “No, Sir, no. You haven’t punished me enough, Sir. What I did was so awful, Sir, I expect...”
    This time a sublimely placed cough was enough to silence her.
    “Come here.”
    With all the grace she could muster she stood and approached him. She was gazing into his eyes all the time, never a flicker of a sideways glance.
    “Then we are in agreement. Take off your panties.”
    Without even a second’s pause, she did so. He took them from her and pushed them straight into her mouth. He had a pair of her tights in his pocket which he pulled out and began stuffing into her mouth until she resembled a hamster. He pushed them into her cheeks and as soon as she thought there was no more room, he found more room.
    From another pocket in his immaculate suit, he produced a roll of duct tape. He tore off piece after piece, placing each layer in a slightly different place over her mouth, sealing and further packing the tights and panties.
    He took one pace back from her, then with one single swoop of his hand he slapped her face, more to humiliate her than to hurt her. She managed to maintain eye contact for the relentless torrent that was to follow.
    “You filthy cunt. You will never, ever do that again. Or anything like it. Am I making myself abundantly clear?”
    She nodded but before she could have any thoughts of the humiliation being over, he ripped open her dress, exposing her breasts. He smacked them, too. Over and over and with no sign of a pattern or rhythm to his method. Again and again his hands made contact, sometimes just catching her fiercely erect nipples.
    He grabbed her by the hair and tossed her from side to side. When she stumbled and was about to fall, he grabbed her hair again and pulled her up. Her screams muffled by the makeshift gag, his hands grasped ever tighter. Then he tossed her onto the floor where she lay for the longest time, not daring to move.
    “Get out. Get out of the apartment and stand in the street. I’m not done with you.”
    Her mascara all over her face, huge clumps of duct tape still over her mouth, she had no choice but to obey. As she reached the door, hesitating on the step, he kicked her ass further and further into the driveway. He opened the trunk of his car.
    “Get in,” he said coldly. “Get the fuck in.”
    She did so and the hatch was slammed down. He started the engine and the car moved off...

 

     
    B y the time I awoke fully, it was a bright, crisp morning. I quickly showered and changed my dress. I spent a long time cleansing my face of the mess from the night before and putting on fresh make up, trying to hide my puffy eyes from so much crying. I wanted to look my best for him for his return. He would return, I told myself. He had to.
    Then I remembered what he had said – ‘Punish you more? Yes, I shall certainly do that.’ I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about what else he might do, and then found