The Story of S Pt18.

You will want to have read the earlier parts of this story first.

This story is rated 5-🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 because of some very harsh descriptions of certain future suffering, not because of anything which actually happens.

If you don’t think you’ll like it, you can skip this episode— there isn’t much plot development— reading the original Voluntary Commitments document will be enough to understand the next episode.

I’ll put an exit link towards the end, before it gets really dark.

“We will begin with the Voluntary Commitments.”

“The whore has been told that it will have to ask to be enslaved.”

“This is how that works. The whore will make some Voluntary Commitments. I am going to explain those. The whore will be given access to a document, and also given some support, before it decides whether it wishes to make commitments, and what commitments it will make.”

“Today I will introduce the whore to the most important meanings of Voluntary Commitments. Details will come later.”

“The important things to understand come in this order. "

“First, an understanding must be achieved: of what a Commitment is— and is not.”

“A Commitment is given by a whore that wishes to give away control over its life, to some extent. To give away that control, permanently, or for some fixed period of time, without any possibility of early release from its commitment.”

“That is the first thing. The whore decides to cede control; to cease to have any control at all over itself, in some particular or general respect; to ask others to control it completely, in that respect, for the duration of the commitment.”

“That is the first thing: say it back to me in a few words. Start with; ‘The most important aspect of a commitment is… ‘”

Essy is surprised by this; she has been mesmerised by Paul’s voice; in describing the Commitments, he had become even more mechanical in his tone; almost as if he were a machine, the words coming out with metronomic precision, as if delivered by clockwork. But now he has stopped and she must speak; must prove she has been listening; she is in distress, momentarily, not trusting herself, but then finds that Paul’s strange delivery has effectively burned his words into her memory— there as soon as she looked for them;

“The most important aspect of a commitment is… is that the … the whore … I am talking about myself as an object, now … makes a Commitment to … to give away control of … of something about her … about … about it, I mean (so weird, to be saying it like that), give it away completely, for some time, or … or forever.”

“Accurate enough. Remember it. say the words to yourself often. Push the meaning into your mind. You will be defined by these commitments. They will shape your life, both limiting you like iron bars, and pushing you forward, like cattle prods.”

“Now for the second most important thing; the Commitment is voluntary. The whore chooses to make the commitment of its own free will. It is the whore’s decision alone whether it makes a commitment.”

“You understand this?”

Essy nodded, and he paused, making sure; He is so certain, so careful. With this man, you will always know that he knows what he is doing and why. That he will not waver. That he has thought about what he is doing, what he wants, very carefully. I will be safe with him. Safe from chaos, at least.

“Speak, then.”

And Essy knew what to say; he had made her part very clear, and it was immediately a pleasure to be able to deliver for him, made her feel safer. I’m doing what he wants. I know what he wants and I can give it to him; this is good. I can feel myself wanting him to have me and be certain with; give me no leeway, no freedom at all; nowhere to hide from what my cunt wants. Oh fuck what are these words in my head? God but he’s frightening.

Certain, yes— but certain of what?

Essy felt her chest heave at these thoughts, but hastened to give him what he was waiting for, even though her voice trembled, giving her away; as if he can’t see every little thing about me, in any case…

“The second thing about a Commitment is that the … the whore makes it of its own free will.”

“Good.”

“The point here is to understand that this is all on the whore. Everything terrible that is done to it will be, in the deepest of ways, its own fault; what it asked for; what it committed itself to.”

“Now, the third thing often seems the hardest part for a whore to understand, so listen carefully.”

“The commitment is made by the whore. It means nothing to anyone else. It is the whore’s problem to live with the consequences. It is an invitation by the whore to anyone— anyone in the world that knows about its commitment, to enforce the whore’s compliance. A commitment does not in any sense at all impose constraints or requirements upon anyone else.”

“As I say, this seems hard for whores to get into their silly heads; they say things like I said you could rape my throat but not my ass, then you raped my ass!”

“I’m going to give a very simple example, so you can’t say you didn’t understand later. Unless you are stupid beyond belief. In which case I don’t care.”

“I’m going to tell you how it will be when you come to me, the first time after you make any commitment to us. Just like it was the first time Luly came to me. Luly had made no commitments. I did what I do to her anyway.”

“Before the example, though, I need to explain some detail.”

“A proper set of commitments has three elements. Element one is the commitment itself.”

“Let’s take the whore I just described as our example. It gave away control of its throat. It made a commitment to take anything, accept anything, into its throat. That was the first element of the commitment— part of it, at least; there were other commitments too— the cunt, obviously, the tits too; though remember there was no commitment to accept anal penetration of any kind. You should notice that there are commitments to act, as well as commitments to accept. So the whore might commit to refer to itself in the third person as ’this whore’ at all times, or to do kegels for an hour a day, or to curtsey, showing its pussy, every time it enters a room.”

“Element two is the boundaries commitment— what limits there are as to the way the whore will honour its commitment. This can stipulate any mix of time, place and outcome limitations. This whore said it would honour its commitments each alternate weekend, from 7pm on Friday to 7 am on Monday, that it could be used anywhere that was not public. The other boundary was that nothing could be done to it which was likely to hospitalise or permanently injure it.”

“The third element is the enforcement condition; the whore explicitly begs to be helped to honour its commitments through the use of coercion. Coercion too is limited. This whore again asked that any form of coercion at all should be used on it, unless it would permanently injure or disfigure its face or lower arms or breasts or sex, or be likely to hospitalise or permanently injure it.”

“Once a set of commitments like this have been accepted, and proclaimed by the whore, then during those hours, let’s say I wanted to push a ten inch hard plastic dildo into its throat in one hard thrust, and hold it there for a minute, watch it flip like a landed fish; that’s well within its commitment.”

“If the whore decided it couldn’t face it, well then, that’s fun for me, since it has also asked for me to force it to make good on its commitment, and I’d be well within my rights to zip tie its wrists up behind its back, tied tight to its neck, or whip its ass till it bleeds, or stick a lighted cigar into its pussy, or all of these things, if I chose to— anything to convince or force it to accept the dildo into its throat, since these actions fall within its enforcement limits.”

“You’re shocked? I can see you are. And I know why. Whores are always horrified by that one. Well I can confirm that minor burns inside the vagina heal remarkably quickly and fully, despite the extreme mental and physical trauma they inflict— and thus lie well within her committed enforcement limit.”

Essy had begun to shake sometime before the last section of his speech, tears gathering in her eyes. On the one hand, taken dispassionately, this sort of thing was no more than she could have expected— the sort of things Mark had done to her— he’d done worse, in all truth.

But that had been in the heat of the moment (at least, as I experienced it: Mark had made plans, though, I guess; cruel plans for me; and he’s been part of young women making terrible commitments like these, was planning from the start to get me to this point, to where such things can be said to me in sure confidence that I will not run to the police, to social media; to the point where it is somehow reasonable to say such words to me, in a public place; for me to continue to listen to them, to work to control my distress, awful as what he is saying is, terrible as the future is which they set before me. Oh Jesus what will become of me once I have said such things to them?).

For, stupid as it was, ludicrous, crazy, even, it was already obvious to Essy that she was going to make some commitments like these, no matter how she was trembling; no matter how desperate her body was not to be part of that future, no matter that she knew that ’enforcement’ commitments would need to be activated for her again and again, that she would not be able always to accept the degrading treatments she had volunteered for without a fight.

Her chest was heaving, and her vision had become focused, entirely focused, on Paul’s large, bony hands; hands which she knew would do terrible things to her soft parts; hands which would have her mewling with fear, screaming with pain, begging with desperate urgency for mercy which— very obviously— this man would never grant.

Even though there is something— he is beginning to speak to me personally, using the word ‘you’, not just calling me ’the whore’; I … I think, whatever he says, that he wants me; that he is excited by the idea of using me, of having me. Me, personally— there … there is some chemistry here, however weird, however frightening he is. I feel it too…

But none of it matters, because it’s all so legalistic, so cold and formal, like a machine. It’s all going to be laid out, in black and white; these commitments, what they mean for me, what enforcement will be like, the limits of it, and I’m going to have to ask for it or they’ll abandon me… Stupidly, the thought of abandonment was more terrifying than the prospect of Paul’s enforcement, and Essy’s mind shut down for a few seconds, overwhelmed.

When she could open her eyes again, when she had gained enough control over her shaking to turn her head a little, get some sense of Paul and Madam’s reaction, she discovered (though she had not looked directly at their faces— felt sure that she never would again, not without being commanded, so beneath their contempt did she feel, so frightened of their displeasure), discovered that they were pleased, amused; enjoying themselves, and experienced two conflicting rushes of emotion; first, happiness; a pathetically warm, gushing joy that she had entertained them, that they were pleased with her, and second, crushing despair, that her deep and abject emotional suffering should give them pleasure. It was as if she were being pulled apart; powerfully, bodily desperate to please them, at the same time horribly pained— bodily pained, too, by the knowledge that they were amused by her humiliation and fear.

I won’t be able to live long with these contradictions, these tearings. I’ll be broken, just as Mark said. And yet I am not going to save myself. It’s too late; I’m ruined for anything else, Mark has ruined me, and I know it. Maybe I will make these terrible commitments for them, beg them to accept me, so that they can abuse me, to end my suffering— maybe I need them to end me somehow— break my mind or my body to simplify me so that there is no more conflict?

What’s the point in thinking like this? It’s going to happen, because I won’t let it stop. Because I will push it forward, honestly, when I am permitted t.o

I need to breathe, to calm myself, to give them a pretty face, a smile if I can, to tell them yes. Ask them, yes please… Oh God there is no other way out, so help me…

“You’re back. Good. tell me, now, the three parts of a Commitment.”

It took Essy the longest time to feel sure she had control of her voice, her throat; my throat, which he will happily ram a ten inch hard plastic dildo into and hold me down while I spasm, just for fun.

If I ask him to.

When I ask him to.

They were patient, though, easily patient— enjoying themselves still at her distress, at her weak and frankly self-destructive efforts to control herself for them, so that they could be cruel to her; but she was ready at last, and once again found that his words were clear in her mind. He has really got to me, this weird. frightening man. I’m trembling for him even though he is not in the least my idea of sexy or attractive. Even though I am sure he will hurt me badly.

“The … the first part is the commitment itself— what … what can be done to me; what I commit to do, or allow to be done to me.”

“The second part is the boundary— when and where the commitments are to be honoured, how far they can go.”

“The third part is the … the enforcement commitment, where I say what is OK to be done to me to coerce me to meet my commitments.”

“Again, good enough for now. Now for the part that so many whores get confused about; the fact that none of this rigmarole is intended for anyone to take notice of but the whore. To help it make sense of its own stupid whore-ishness; to help it live with the reality that it is asking to be degraded.”

“None of it, none of it at all, makes any difference to me; to what I’ll do with you when I get my hands on you.”

He said ‘you’ again. He wants me, and … and I want him to have me. To enjoy me. I do, in spite of everything. In spite of what he did to Luly, whatever it was. Which he will probably do to me, too.

It was as if she was testing herself, horrifying herself. Was it to see if she had the strength to stand up, to walk out, to leave, to save herself?

No… no, it’s too late for that. I think I’m doing it to soften myself up, to make it harder and harder for me to back out, to prepare myself for being badly abused. For it to be my fault; for asking them to degrade me.

“What it may do— what it should do if you’re a good whore— and I think you may have it in you to be a good whore— not that it matters much to me— is to make obvious an overlap between your commitments and my desires, which might occasionally make it easier for me to get on with doing what I am going to do to you, and for you to see that as right and proper, no matter how twisted, or hurtful, or revolting to you.”

“But again, since you whores tend to be a bit weak in the thinking department— what with all the emotion I imagine— not that I care— I said I would give you an example. And it’s going to be a very realistic example. One which will come true if you are helpless and hopeless enough to make commitments to us.”

“It goes like this: you make some initial commitments to us. Mark, or whoever, will talk you down from promising too much with your first batch, so it will all be fairly vanilla— they have thoughts about that kind of thing, which is excellent— I value them. They find and collect whores like you, which I could never do.”

Later— much later, Essy discovered what it was that Paul could do for the group— since he was manifestly unlikely ever to entrap a new girl, for many reasons. Paul was stupidly rich.

He had helped build some very boring but very important part of the internet, apparently, and had owned part of the company which was then sold. Since Paul only cared for technology and using pretty girls in his special way— girls whom he was never going to have access to except through the group, and since Paul had no real use from money beyond what it cost to guarantee him his privacy and his technical and torture toys, he was happy to bankroll the group.

“Whatever; eventually, it will be my turn to have you, based on your time commitments, and I will have you to myself. At this point— assuming you haven’t already, you will very definitely learn the distinction between commitments you have made, and things that others want to do to you. You will learn that your commitments only apply to you— not to me, or anyone else.”

“Say, for instance, that you have committed to strip yourself naked on entering a club property within your time boundary. Thus, when you arrive at my place, you will expect of yourself that you will strip for me as soon as you come in. You may well do it prettily, sexually attractively even. You might even have some little pride in how good you are at stripping, at getting people sexually excited, so that they fuck you hard— since that’s presumably something you like— or, what are you doing here?”

“All that is your business. You will rapidly discover that I have another agenda. I will knock you to the ground while you are stripping— I’m not interested— and then I will drag you, by the hair, down the stairs into my torture basement, which will hurt a great deal— you will carry hard bruises and perhaps cracked ribs afterward. Then I will rip and cut your clothes from you.”

“At this point, a stupid whore might start to whine about her limits. This will make me laugh and I’ll probably do something nasty then, deliberately showing the whore how little I care about her limits— go beyond them. I mean, who knows? I’ll do exactly what I want with the whore. Her commitments are her problem, not a limit on my desires. She’s come to me— I’m going to have my fun, my way; let her complain— no-one will be listening.”

“Normally, I’d leave my explanation there— and I’m sure Francesca here, and Mark too, might prefer that I did, having got you here, but not actually 100% landed you yet. They won’t want me to frighten you off.”

It gets very dark from here in. You should step out here if you don’t want that.

“But I have a good feeling about you, pretty whore, so I’m going to tell you what I’ll really do to you, when I get you first, when I get you to myself. I’m going to do what I did to Luly, what I’ve done to all the others, even though it has always been way, way beyond their commitments.”

“I’ve sewed them shut; everything but their asshole, then taken an overdose of viagra and raped their asses raw.”

“Sewed their pussies shut, their mouths shut, their eyes shut— quite a skill that one, took a while to become excellent at it— a standard medical procedure— look it up— perfectly safe. Everything with sterile medical gear, very thin thread— pull it out slowly and carefully, heals in a week, no marks. Boy does it mess with their heads though; look at Luly here— white as a sheet, quivering; a wonder that she’s not pissing herself, knowing that unless she can get her act together and save herself I’m going to to do her like that again. I only do it once for most girls, but for Luly it will take a few times till I’m bored with her, I think. Can’t tell for you— maybe you’ll be good for two or three times.”

“The point you need to understand: none of your commitments are for anyone but yourself, and perhaps other people who like rules. You should understand that from the start.”

“That the things we do to you are not constrained by your commitments, but are still your fault. because you always knew that we would ignore your boundaries, and you gave yourself to us anyway.”

He was silent then, and indeed there was a powerful silence around them. Essy could not look up, could not judge, but had the sense that perhaps some of those around them had understood something of what was being done to her, what was being said, however vaguely, and were becoming disturbed.

She herself was disturbed beyond measure, had stopped breathing, stopped thinking, stunned, floored. She did not notice Paul leaving, only that he was not there when, some long or short time later (she had no idea at all how long), Luly whispered in her ear that it was time to go, and, like an automaton, Essy found herself standing and following the girl out to the waiting car, entirely on auto-pilot, entirely numb, doing her model walk, because that was what she had been told to do before, doing it perfectly, entirely powerless, glad to be told what to do.

That is what he is certain about. Doing that to me. Whether I have committed to letting him do that or not.

The mental picture of herself, naked, sobbing, on her back, legs spread, letting Paul sew her mouth shut; watching his face as he did it to her, knowing that her pussy and eyes were next, knowing that this was her fault, even though she had explicitly specified boundaries that would be broken by this. That was her reality, that was where she lived, even as the limo rolled out into the London streets, even as she heard Madam talking to Luly, she was with Paul, being destroyed, feeling … feeling what?

Just feeling. Feeling so intensely that her heart might burst, her mind lose coherence, her life end.

To live through that. To be a person to whom that could be done, and yet walk the streets, have people talk to her, to know that Madam would know, Mark, Charles, other strangers, that she was a girl who could be put to such cruelty, who would come back for more, to be utterly vulnerable to their cruel desires…

Oh, that intensity…

Mark was right about me.

Meeting him was the most important thing that ever happened to me.

Gods but I’d like to be fucked now, even though I’m so sore. They could deliver me to Paul now if they wanted. I couldn’t resist— I wouldn’t; even if I might faint, I wouldn’t argue.

She could not understand how her heart could keep beating with the enormity of it all. But it did. And she had still to live with herself.

Now read the original Voluntary Commitments document— these will add detail to what you understand from this episode.