(Thank you @lurvig for everything. And thabk to anyone who took the time to read my ramblings. lol)

“Sir, I’m sorry but that just doesn’t make any sense.”  Tina stared deep into Lurvig’s eyes.  His wild, excited eyes.  “How can anyone learn to love pain?  People can’t love pain.  All that pain is, is the body telling the brain that something is wrong.  How on earth could anyone….could I, ever love THAT?”

His face transitioned in slow motion from disappointed rage to tender concern.  Lurvig rose to his feet and went back to pacing as he spoke.  Slow, deliberate steps, angling just outside of my peripheral visions before circling back.

“I forget, dear slave, that God gives us our gifts but not always knowledge of how they should be used.  This is such a time, GI Jane.”  

“I don’t like that name!” Tina blurted out.  “Sorry.  I’m sorry.  But I don’t.”  Lurvig was practically shocked by the outburst, but quickly recovered.

“Oh, you don’t?  Does that matter though, pretty little slut?  You exist to serve.  You serve to please.  If calling you ‘slave’ pleases me, then should you not LOVE to be called ‘slave?’”  Lurvigspoke with his hands has he provided his logical explanation to Tina.

“It’s ‘GI Jane,’ Sir.  I don’t like THAT name.”  Tina’s hoarse voice was growing weaker by the minute.

“Ahhh.  Well, I find it fitting, and it pleases me to use it for you.  You trained to be a warrior, after all.  You follow a code.  A code of service to a cause.   You were born to follow the code, to be submissive, but you also made the choice.  You continue to MAKE that choice, every day.  You’re making that choice sitting there now, waiting for me to put you once again in a hellish bondage.  Which I can do whenever I desire it.  You could TRY to stop me, but you don’t, do you, GI Jane?”  

“Please don’t…”  Lurvig shouted over her.

“Quiet slave!  Now, I shall explain so that your small submissive mind will comprehend.  I will explain how tying you, as I did, and as I will continue to do, over and over, will make you free.  And I will explain how you are supposed to learn to love the pain that I shower you with.  Listen carefully now Kentucky flower.  Yes?”  Tina’s hands more rested on the shotgun than gripped it.  Her eyes were wide and watery.

“I am listening, Sir.”

“Your life is a busy life.  You run from task to task, from job to job.  It is exhausting.  It is stressful.  It is a terrible way to live.  You can never simply exist as the beautiful creature you are.  You never get represent God’s glorious art, as He desires.  This busy life prevents you from being what you’re meant to be.  And you can never be happy or at peace living this way.  And your frantic mind and your American programming prevents you from stopping.  From just being still.  From just being an object to be enjoyed, like a good little submissive.  Which is why you are never happy.  Are you Tina?”

“I don’t.  I don’t know, Sir.”

“I know bondage whore.  Lurvig DOES know.  And that is why you need bondage.  You only ever remain still when you are tied so tight.  And it is cruel that you have such talent in escaping and have been programmed to think that you should be free.  You have been programmed to think you love freedom.  Bah!  Freedom for you is suffering.  Freedom for you is terror.  You need to be restrained.  You need to bound.  And you love…”  Lurvig motioned one hand toward Tina, inviting her to finish his sentence.

“I love bondage.”  She whispered.  

“That’s right.  Does it feel good to be helpless?  Is it comfortable to be twisted and held and kept from moving?  No!  But you see past that, helpless cunt.  You did not at first.  But you learned to.  You learned to see past it to the calm that only tight bondage can give a submissive like you.  You love my extreme, tight bondage.  Because only I have been able to make you truly helpless, and in doing so, truly free.”

Tina was very tired.  Lurvig was making perfect sense.

“How about terror, pretty slave?  Facing real peril?  Facing endless horrors?  Does it make sense to love this?”  Tina shook her head.

“No.  It’s doesn’t, Sir.”

“Correct, little broken girl.  But if I were to tape a bag over your head and tie your hands behind you, how would the terror feel for you?  As you watched the bag fill up with your exhaled condensation.  As you mentally counted down the minute or so of air that you were using up.  As you tested the rope holding your wrists and realized you couldn’t get free in time.  Would this horrifying peril fill you with dread?”  A light was coming on.

“Thrill.”  Lurvig raised his hands and smiled once again.

“Yes!  Thank you, slave.  Thank you.  You would be THRILLED by the fear.  You have learned how to be excited by things that other people would run frantically away from.  You are broken in that way, but in a good way.  In the way you’re meant to.  You know it.  You know you are meant to be broken.  And now you love the fear.  Just as you love…”  Lurvig made the motion again for Tina to finish.

“Just as I love helpless bondage.”  

“Exactly!  Do you see my flower?  Do you see where this leads?”

“Yes Sir.”

“It’s the same way with pain.  Oh, you love pleasure like anyone else.  And you enjoy your pleasure more potently than a normal person ever could when it is combined with the bondage and the terror that you crave.  Those things that keep you separate from the rest of the world.  The normal world.  That make it so you don’t belong.  You feel it, don’t you?”

“Yes Sir.”

“You feel how you don’t belong, right poor little slut?”

“Yes Sir.”

“But just as learning to love bondage has made you free, and learning to love terror has made you free, learning to love pain will complete your path to freedom, and allow you to be the uniquely special submissive masterpiece that God created you to be.”  Lurvig was gasping from the passion he poured into his monologue.  “Do you understand now, GI Jane?”

“Yes Sir.”  Lurvig approached Tina and grasped her arm in a firm grip.

“So then I will make you free.  I will finish teaching you.  You will stay in bondage and agony and you will learn to love it.  And when you love it, what will that mean?”

“I will belong.”

“That’s right, GI Jane.  Come.  Let’s go.”

“No Sir.”  Thunder cracked outside.  A storm had descended upon Tina’s farm.  Lurvig’s grip on Tina’s arm tightened.

“How.  Dare.  You.”  Lurvig’s words were spaced out by his disbelief in this submissive’ defiance.  “You will submit to me this instant.  Put down that gun and walk to that post.  Do it now, slut.”  Tina raised her eyes to Lurvig’s.  They projected a piercing sense of certainty.  Tina’s voice had also recovered and no longer cracked when she used it.

“I cannot take that last step Sir.  I still have responsibilities.  I have people that need me.  My family.  My church.  Lou and Sarah.  I don’t want to give those up even if I need to in order to receive my peace.  God still has work for me to do.  I have not earned my reward yet, Sir.”  Lurvig was beside himself now.

“No.  You cunt.  I want my raw material.  I am called to make my art.  YOU are meant to be my art, GI Jane.”

Tinas stood up straight and true.  As she did, she clenched the shotgun’s hilt and barrel firmly.  She thrust the weapon firmly into Lurvig’s sternum in more of a push than a strike.  But the unexpected blow cause him to step back and release Tina’s arm.

“I told you.  I don’t like that.  I’m not like her.”  Tina said, resolutely.

“Yes, you are.  You have chosen to serve.  You have made yourself into the most elite. You can do things other cannot even comprehend.  You can actually learn to love pain.  Who else can do this?  Stop denying what you are.”

“Jane DID choose her path.  Yes.   She saw a mountain and she wanted to climb it.  She served but she served to prove a point that she could.  That’s not me!”  Tina was gaining strength from some untapped well she’d never been to before.

“If not, then what are you?  What kind of warrior do you think you are?”  Lurvig was realizing he was losing his grip on his coveted raw materials and was preparing to claim them by alternate methods.

“I’m like Joan of Arc.  She never wanted to be a warrior.  She didn’t ask for the honor.  But God called to her.  God ordained her to lead and to perform miracles.  Joan didn’t belong in her village, and she didn’t belong on a battlefield.  But she kept working task after task.  She kept facing horror after horror.  And nothing was every going to convince her to step down from her duty.  She didn’t quit until God sent the British army to force her to stop.  And once they had her, she had a choice to live her mortal life in a convent or go straight to her reward in heaven.  And as much as Joan feared the fire that was her key to her reward, she KNEW she didn’t below in the convent.  So, she chose the fire.  She chose the pain.  But Joan never learned to love the bondage of her duties.  She endured them.  Joan never learned to love the fears that plagued her.  She overcame them.  And Joan didn’t love the pain of the fire.  She pushed through it to get to God and to submit to her true Master.”  Lurvig lowered into an offense crouch.

“OK Saint Tina.  What makes you think God hasn’t sent me to deliver the message that you finished with your service and it’s time for your reward?”  He looked for his opening.

“The same way Joan knew, Sir.  Joan did not lay down her sword.  The British took her by force.”  Lurvig’s hands formed into fists.  “But I don’t have to wait.  I already know.  Because unlike Joan, I have a shotgun.  And if you so much as flinch in my direction, Sir, I’m turn you into a stain on the wall of my grandpa’s barn.”  Tina breathed slow and steady.  Her pulse was not even slightly elevated.

“It appears, you may not be ready yet after all, Saint Tina.”  Lurvig’s tension eased, and he slowly backed away toward the entrance of the barn.

“No Sir.  I’m afraid I’m probably not.”  Tina’s voice cracked again, and tears welled up and then poured down her face.  “But when I am, will you come back for me please.”

“Yes, little Kentucky flower.  God willing.  God willing I will help you then, and perhaps along the way as well.”  Tina broke into sobs that shook her body.  “You’re a good girl, Tina.  A very good girl.”

----------------

In Tina’s dreams, or in her future, or maybe as her heavenly reward, she one day experienced the fulfillment of achieving her ultimate submissive form.  Arms bound behind her.  Each loop of rope placed perfectly, symmetrically, and cinched so tightly her limbs were 1000% immobilized.  Blindfolded and gagged, thoroughly stuffed and stifled, protected from the sensory input that could only distract from the blissfulness she was entrapped in.  Her breath being strangled out of her by a tight noose tethered somewhere up above.  The resulting lightheadedness, like a high, extinguishing any doubts or worries about obligations.  Her legs almost completely numb from the tight ropes binding them and from being forced to stand on her toes to prevent herself from loosing consciousness and having to leave the perfect sense of belonging she’d achieved.  

Held down, lifted up, squeezed in, and cocooned in the appreciation of the Master, Tina finally had finally found the last thing she needed.  She had been overcome and forced out of her obligations and into the life she was ordained to have.  And then she was baptized in her struggles against absolutely perfect bondage, fear and pain, until she’d learned to love them all.  And at last she belonged.