‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
28
“What is it that you want the most out of life?”
Taylor frowned as the question caught him off guard, and he looked up as if to ask if the man was really asking him such a thing.
“Don’t take too long in your responses.”
Taylor struggled to think for a moment, becoming visually flustered as his mind raced.
“I want…” he trailed off in uncertainty, “I want to see my kids grow up.”
He had to close his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the possibility that it might not happen.
“And that’s a fair request from a father,” he surprised Taylor with his answer, making him open his eyes again.
“But what we need to do now is to commit to a regime that changes your perspective.”
Taylor gave him a curious look.
“Take for example, the very way you began your reply. You began with ‘I want’.”
Taylor blushed a little, knowing already where he was going. He held back from saying that it was what the man had asked him and he’d been responding in kind.
“What we need to concentrate on, first and foremost, requires a shift in your perspective from what you want, as opposed to what your Master wants. In your case, your eventual Mistress.”
Taylor ducked his head, keeping his eyes to the ground as he processed what the man wanted. The thought had crossed his mind many times to try and convince them as best he could that he would need as little ‘training’ as possible, but he already knew it was going to be a lot harder to fool them than he’d originally thought. And maybe he wouldn’t be able to.
“You have a wedding ring.”
A chill ran down Taylor’s spine as he realised it was more of a statement than a question. He subconsciously covered it with his other hand protectively.
“I’d like you to take it off before we go any further.”
Again subconsciously, Taylor immediately began shaking his head.
“No?” the man’s voice was tinged with curiosity.
Taylor had to force himself to stop as he started to panic about what might happen if he actually refused to do as they asked. The hits he could take. But Nate had implied far greater punishments.
He hadn’t realised he’d paused so long until he heard footsteps behind him. Knowing there wasn’t going to be a way out of whatever was coming, he immediately went on guard and fell from his knees onto his side before scrambling back against the nearest wall.
“Please, don’t,” he cried weakly as the men only changed direction in order to grab him by the shoulders and pull him back to where he’d been.
He was soon on his knees again in the exact same position as the master stood from his chair.
“The problem with wedding bands, you see…” he began callously, “is that they designate a sense of ownership already. You exchange them below your wedding vows to signify not only the marital bond that you share with one another, but that you also ‘belong’ to each other in a sense.”
Taylor instinctively fought as the man to his left held his arm out and the master gently placed his hands over Taylor’s fist. By gently placing his fingers onto a nerve in the underside of Taylor’s wrist, Taylor couldn’t help but release his hand with a surprised cry.
“Which is something we just can’t allow, I’m afraid,” he said, “you are no longer hers.”
Taylor couldn’t help but yell as he heard the sickening crack signalling the breakage of his finger. Once the man had his wedding ring off, he signalled for the men to let Taylor go.
Taylor frowned as the question caught him off guard, and he looked up as if to ask if the man was really asking him such a thing.
“Don’t take too long in your responses.”
Taylor struggled to think for a moment, becoming visually flustered as his mind raced.
“I want…” he trailed off in uncertainty, “I want to see my kids grow up.”
He had to close his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the possibility that it might not happen.
“And that’s a fair request from a father,” he surprised Taylor with his answer, making him open his eyes again.
“But what we need to do now is to commit to a regime that changes your perspective.”
Taylor gave him a curious look.
“Take for example, the very way you began your reply. You began with ‘I want’.”
Taylor blushed a little, knowing already where he was going. He held back from saying that it was what the man had asked him and he’d been responding in kind.
“What we need to concentrate on, first and foremost, requires a shift in your perspective from what you want, as opposed to what your Master wants. In your case, your eventual Mistress.”
Taylor ducked his head, keeping his eyes to the ground as he processed what the man wanted. The thought had crossed his mind many times to try and convince them as best he could that he would need as little ‘training’ as possible, but he already knew it was going to be a lot harder to fool them than he’d originally thought. And maybe he wouldn’t be able to.
“You have a wedding ring.”
A chill ran down Taylor’s spine as he realised it was more of a statement than a question. He subconsciously covered it with his other hand protectively.
“I’d like you to take it off before we go any further.”
Again subconsciously, Taylor immediately began shaking his head.
“No?” the man’s voice was tinged with curiosity.
Taylor had to force himself to stop as he started to panic about what might happen if he actually refused to do as they asked. The hits he could take. But Nate had implied far greater punishments.
He hadn’t realised he’d paused so long until he heard footsteps behind him. Knowing there wasn’t going to be a way out of whatever was coming, he immediately went on guard and fell from his knees onto his side before scrambling back against the nearest wall.
“Please, don’t,” he cried weakly as the men only changed direction in order to grab him by the shoulders and pull him back to where he’d been.
He was soon on his knees again in the exact same position as the master stood from his chair.
“The problem with wedding bands, you see…” he began callously, “is that they designate a sense of ownership already. You exchange them below your wedding vows to signify not only the marital bond that you share with one another, but that you also ‘belong’ to each other in a sense.”
Taylor instinctively fought as the man to his left held his arm out and the master gently placed his hands over Taylor’s fist. By gently placing his fingers onto a nerve in the underside of Taylor’s wrist, Taylor couldn’t help but release his hand with a surprised cry.
“Which is something we just can’t allow, I’m afraid,” he said, “you are no longer hers.”
Taylor couldn’t help but yell as he heard the sickening crack signalling the breakage of his finger. Once the man had his wedding ring off, he signalled for the men to let Taylor go.