5 comments/ 24162 views/ 28 favorites Dove By: Rangerbrook The rain finally stopped but Lea didn't even notice. The bath felt so good. She had worked hard all week and this was her reward. One last night in this grand hotel, with a bath room nearly the size of her apartment back home. So she had turned on the CD player in the other room, striped out of her clothes and ran a bath, lit some candles and now she closed out the world. She let her mind drift as her hands played with the bubbles. Her new boss was a little skittish, he would not come in the room yet insisted she remain there. This was a bit new, just handing her things to research and then leaving. Normally he would stay in the room and work with her on reports and lining up buyers or raising funds. They made a good team, but this trip he was not acting himself. A month ago at the company picnic she had worn a halter top dress and she could swear that when he saw her he felt ill, the color drained from his face and he excused himself rather quickly to hide in the house. When she saw him later he seemed alright and he told her that they would be coming to New York for a week of research. Her mind drifted again let her mind drift with the music and erotic images of a lover, that she didn't have, but she dreamed of sometimes, just the thought of him would make her wet. She bit her lower lip as she slowly began to stroke her breasts, she really should thank her boss for the bath set. It smelled wonderful, exotic. The smells exciting her a bit more as she felt carried away to some garden. Her fingers toyed with her nipples and they became hard peaks. She closed her eyes as her hands slid down her body to her pussy. He walked into the bedroom and clamped a hand on the man's throat. "She is not the one. You said you would bring her. You have betrayed me, you die." His grip tightened as the man fought for breath gasping out words. "No...tonight..she will tonight..I promise..just watch..once more..please.." He clawed at the inhuman hand on his throat. He let the man go with a snarl. "If you betray me human, your life is over." He moved to the window and paused, "As is your family." "I swear she is the one you seek. You saw the mark on her back. I know she is the one, just one more night. Please, I beg you." He looked down on the man and with a nod he stepped out into the night. Great wings spread out and he glided back up to the roof. The rain had stopped and he landed lightly near the skylight. He heard the music first, soft and sensual. He looked down through the glass and there she was in the bath. She was beautiful of face and body, but that meant nothing with out passion and so far, he had seen none. She cannot be the one, the mate that he has sought for over a hundred years, the one that would cause his blood to boil and set his passions soaring. He blinked in shock as he watched her hands stroke her breasts, her lips parting a bit on a breath, then her blue eyes closing as she arched and her hands slid lower under the water and bubbles. He watched as she stroked herself and her face became a bit flushed, her breath quickening, her gasps and moans easily picked up by his keen hearing. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and smiled as he felt himself grow hard after all these years. Yes, she is the one. He has found her at long last. He looked back down as her gasps become louder and her hands worked faster, he felt his blood racing as he reached down to stroke his hard cock. He was very hard and his need for her was great. He closed his eyes and shivered as her gasps reach a fever pitch then her cries of joy mixed with passion as she found her release. He shuddered with her and as he looked down again his eyes burning with light of their own. She will be his and he will have her now. He turned and stepped off the edge into the night. Lea panted quietly, catching her breath. "Mmmm yes..." She relaxed a bit and finally noticed that the bath had gotten cold. What she wanted to do is turn on the hot and warm it up but she got a wicked smile as she thought of the vibrator she packed in her bag. She always took it with her when she traveled. She stood up and pulled the plug on the bath with a thought to the king sized bed in the other room. It was a huge medieval thing. Just right to lie back and think of a brave knight come to take her and make his. She walked into the room and shivered. She had left the windows open but the rain had made the room cool. She tipped her head and thought to leave them open, things were going to get warm anyway. She went to her case and took out the vibrator. She started to walk to the bed when the lights went out. She closed her eyes a moment to get her night vision. When she opened them, she screamed. There was a pair of glowing gold eyes in front of her. She was lovely, soft, large breasts, long legs and built up passion. He watched her from outside the open window as she came into the room, her body still wet from the bath, a few stray bubbles clinging to her legs. When she took out the vibrator with a soft smile, he smiled. "Oh yes, tonight." He whispered to the wind. He waved a hand and turned out the lights, throwing her into darkness. Quietly he slipped through the window and stood before her. He smiled when she screamed, the sound bringing a low growl from his throat. Lea stumbled and hit her back on the doorframe as the thing before her growled. Before she can turn to run, who ever it was grabbed her and threw her to the bed. With a sensation of flying and tumbling, she does not know which way is up. She felt the bed under her and she pushed up to roll over but a large hand held her down on her back. She heard a ripping sound and she screamed as she envisioned a knife ripping her back open. "Don't hurt me..please..don't hurt me." "I won't do anything you don't want me to." A voice hisses in her ear. "Then let me go. I want you to let me go." "I can't let you go. You belong to me. You were chosen to be mine." He leaned down and licked the circle scar on her shoulder blade. Lea twisted her head on the bed to try to get a better breath. "What?" She shivered when she felt him lick her scar. What is he talking about? Chosen? He is insane! She tried to push up against him but he was too heavy and strong. He smiled down at her as he ripped another length off the bedspread. He let her up a bit just enough to roll her to her back and quickly tied one hand to the headboard and though she kicked at him, he caught her other hand, smiling as he takes the vibrator that she is still holding. "Perhaps later my little Dove." He quickly tied her hands together and leaned back a bit. "I am sorry to tie you my Dove, but I don't want you to hurt yourself." "I'm not your Dove or your anything. Let me go!" She kicked at him and missed. He is just a dark shape with those glowing eyes. His hands felt rough and with long nails when he held her down. She cursed at him and kicked again at his comment when he took the vibrator from her hand. She kicked again only to have that long fingered hand grab her ankle. "No! No! Don't tie me. Stop it!" He easily caught her leg and taking another length of the bedspread he shredded, he looped it around the foot posters of the bed to tie her legs spread wide apart. He took a smaller length and moved to the head of the bed. "I am sorry my Dove. Nevertheless, I cannot have you screaming. At least not that kind." He cut of another string of curses as he quickly gagged her. He can only hold off the lights for a short time and the time was nearly up. Lea glared at the shape in the dark. He is large, well muscled she can tell that much and wearing some kind of weird leather jacket. She could feel something brushing her legs from time to time. When the lights come on she was blinded and she closed her eyes. She thought for a moment not to open them. If she does not see him then she cannot testify. He might let her go. Let her live. "Turn and look at me my Dove." He chuckled when she shook her head. "You will need to see who your mate is to be. Your husband." Her eyes flew open and she turned. It took her a moment to scream, not understanding what she is seeing. A monster. A demon with wings. Skin, leathery, nearly pitch black. His golden eyes shining a bit less in the light of the room. Long black hair running down his back. When he smiled she saw sharp teeth. She took a breath and screamed, pulling madly on the ropes. Knowing in her heart, he is going to kill her. He shook his head. "Shhh be calm my Dove. I will not hurt you. There might be some pain at first, but that will pass and the pleasure will be far better for it." He can see she is panicked so he bent down over the bed and slowly licked one of her nipples. She jerked and tried to roll to the side. He easily held her still and cupped her other breast, his thumb rubbing and teasing the peek while his tongue teased and toyed with the other. Her body responding to his touch, just as the stories said his one true mate would. Only one would be his, only one would respond to his touch and see him for the beauty with in and not the demon he was. He had read the stories, the legends that were passed down about how to find their mate. But he had given up ever finding her. Now here she was in his arms. His tongue swirled around her nipple, the circle that binds them together. He could feel the skin on his shoulder blade burning as the same scar that marks her shoulder, slowly forms on his own back, linking them together forever. She tried to buck and twist away but he held her easily, his strength far greater then hers. She bucked as his tongue did wonderful things to her nipple. Oh God she had never felt pleasure like this. No, he is a demon. She screamed again and tried to twist but his other hand only tightened on her breast and toyed with her nipple more. Her body responding and the pleasure so intense, like nothing she has ever felt before. Such fight, he hoped she would have some spirit in her. He wanted more than just a union. He wanted a bond that would last and be adventurous as well. He smiled as her nipple hardened to a peak. "Your body knows what it needs. Let me give it to you my Dove." He sucked her nipple into his mouth and rolled it around with his tongue, sucking and nipping with his teeth. When she arched and gasped, he knew she is his. She felt the waves of pleasure racing down through her from his mouth and hand on her nipples. She wanted more. She didn't want it to end. She arched and a soft moan growled in her throat, her mind shoving aside what he looked like, only thinking of the pleasure. In some dark corner her brain teased her with her own fantasies of a demon lover, someone who takes her and fucks her, making her scream with passion. Here he was and ready to take her. He looked up and smiled his free hand ripping the gag from her mouth when she moans with pleasure. "Oh yes my Dove. I will give you much more." His cock throbbing with the need to be inside her, but she must be ready. He didn't want to hurt her and he knew his size might if she was not ready. He knelt between her legs and continued to lick and stroke her breasts. One hand gently and slowly was sliding down her abdomen to her pussy. His long fingers slipped between the folds and he groaned as he found her already very wet. "I can't wait much longer. I must have you." Her head tipped back as she arched into his hand and mouth, her hips sliding on the bed a bit a she writhed under his teasing. When his hand pressed tighter, she went still a moment until his finger stroked to toy with her clit. She arched into his hand, amazed at her wantonness. At his growled words, she whispers softly. "Yes...please.." "Oh yes. I shall!" He let out a roar as he rose up and thrust into her, his large cock stretching her wide as he thrust into her. His hands griping her hips and ass to hold her impaled on his cock. He growled low as her muscles fluttered and gripped him tightly. So intense was the pleasure he had to pant to hold him self back. He hears her whimper and looks down to see her face a mix of pleasure and pain, a tear slipping out of the corner of her eye. " My Dove. My love, don't cry, the pain will soon pass as I do this." He slowly drew out and then slid back in just as slow. He kept up the slow rhythm as he watched her face, his eyes locked with hers. The pain was intense. She panted through it as she adjusted to the size of him. When he started to move the pleasure started to build. Soon her panting turned to whimpers of pleasure and small cries of joy as he quickly brought her to a climax. Her hips lifting into him wanting him to go faster and maddened that he will not. He watched her face come alive and her body responded to his. As she begged and whimpered for him to go faster, he slowly began to build the pace, his cock sliding in and out now with ease as her wetness coated him and her muscles gripped him tightly. "Yes. My dove." She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts as a fire built, her muscles tightened and her heart raced. "Yes! Now!" She tipped her hips up to him faster as he thrust into her deeply, pushing her over the edge as she screamed out her passion. She watched as his wings spread out wide and he threw back his head in a growl that built into a roar as he thrust quickly a few times then held him self in deeply as he shuddered. He drew out to thrust in again and she can feel his cock pulsing with in her. As her muscles gripped him, he lost all control and thrust into her with quick strong thrusts. Finally reaching his release, his muscles tensing he roared with delight as he filled her deeply. As he shuddered through his orgasm, he looked down at her and reached up to untie her arms and then her legs, not wanting to pullout of her warmth gripping his cock. He smiled when her legs slowly caress up his own and back down, her hands doing the same to his arms. "What is your name?" "I have no name. Only you can give me a name. It is so written." She looked up at him and smiled. "Then I shall call you Goliath." She purred his name a few times. "Again Goliath. Fuck me again." "It will be my pleasure. You have but to ask my Dove." Dove Standing outside the bedroom door, the woman called Dove tried to still the butterflies in her stomach. She looked down at the simple white linen robe she wore. The plain thin garment, open in front but folded over and tied closed by an equally plain cord, clung to her freshly washed body. The hard tips of her small breasts were clearly visible as they pressed against the soft fabric. The robe still surprised her a little, and she wondered what it said about her new Master. Tonight was to be the first time she gave herself to him. She'd arrived late, already worried of disappointing her new Master. Instead of being met by him, she had instead been greeted by a young woman dressed in a simple white robe like the one she now wore. Instead of harsh words and a firm hand, or maybe a strap, she had been greeted gently and instructed to bathe, remove her jewelry and make-up and put on this plain garment. The young woman, Jasmine she had called herself, had told her that, from tonight, her new Master would call her Dove. Then Jasmine had led her to this door and told her to wait before disappearing inside. So, she waited and wondered. This wasn't the first time the woman called Dove had submitted herself to another. Even Jasmine's presence hadn't overly shocked her. If the Master wanted a threesome, she knew she could play her part. Still, she felt nervous. It was one thing to correspond with someone, even to talk with them. Giving herself to him was something else, and waiting here in the hall outside his room wondering what was coming next was another thing entirely. Suddenly, the door opened and Jasmine stepped out. She smiled slightly at the woman called Dove. "He's waiting for you," Jasmine said softly. "Go in and do as he says." "I've done this king of thing before," the woman called Dove said, a little more sharply than she'd intended. Jasmine only smiled. The room beyond the door was dark, lit only by candles, which the woman called Dove found familiar even if the rest wasn't what she had expected. Most of the space was dominated by a large bed, which was unsurprising, but the rest was given over to a large desk and walls covered in bookshelves. The Master stood with his back to her, paging through a book that lay open on the desk. He was a solid looking man and wore a black robe that matched her white one, save that it was held shut by a heavy leather belt. The woman called Dove smiled inwardly at the possibilities the belt promised and the drawings of naked bodies she glimpsed on the pages of the book. "You're late," the Master said softly, not looking up from his book. "Yes, Master," the woman called Dove replied, knowing better than to offer excuses or ask forgiveness. "Your first error." The Master looked up from the book with a slight smile. "We will address it in due time. Now, kneel there." He gestured casually at a spot on the floor in front of the bed. The woman called Dove moved quickly to that spot and knelt, her hands in her lap and eyes demurely downcast. The Master turned to face her. "That will hardly do," he said softly. "Don't slouch, child. Hands behind your back. Back straight. Head up. Eyes front." The firmness of his voice quickened her pulse, and the woman called Dove quickly adjusted her position to obey. Her breasts, she found, were now pressing firmly against the thin white linen of her robe. Her nipples hardened, standing proudly forward, as the soft fabric rubbed against her skin. The Master looked her up and down slowly, then stepped to the side, just out of her sight. "Eyes front," he admonished as she unconsciously turned to follow his motion. "A second error." He chuckled slightly. "Now, why are you here?" "To serve you, Master," the woman called Dove answered promptly. She found her anxiety fading as the new relationship fell into familiar patterns. "Do you understand what you ask?" the Master said gently. "I will obey your commands," she answered, confident. "Do you understand what you ask of me?" the Master asked more firmly. "I..." the woman called Dove stammered, suddenly lost. "I wonder, child, if you truly understand what our relationship will be," the Master said softly. "You seek to put yourself in my hands, to give yourself to me completely. Does that not give me great power over you, child?" "Yes, Master," the woman called Dove replied hesitantly. "Yes. Dominance, submission, these are words to describe a relationship of power. Such power can be abused," the Master continued thoughtfully. Then firmly he said, "Give me your hand." The woman called Dove hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand to him. Firmly but gently the Master took her arm and turned her wrist up to the ceiling. His thumb brushed gently over the faint white line of scar tissue where it crossed the blue veins. "There is a line that separates dominance from abuse," the Master continued, his voice strangely hypnotic in its intensity. "It is not, however, a thin line, not a fine line nor a line easily crossed. It is clear line, firm and abiding. It is called responsibility. For me to be your Master, I become responsible for you while you obey my commands, obligated to you, required to make my commands with consideration. This is not a relationship of power. It is a relationship of trust. You put your trust in me absolutely and require that I uphold that trust. That is what you ask of me." "I understand," Dove replied softly. The Master's thumb traced the scar on her wrist again. Then, with a barely perceptible shift, he dismissed it, moving his thumb in a different way across her skin. Dove gasped as that touch sparked an unexpected thrill of pleasure, rushing through her. "Yes," the Master's voice seemed to whisper in her head. "We will learn more of that too, in due time." He released her wrist and, at his gestured command, she quickly replaced it behind her back. Calmly the Master turned away from her, looking back down at his book. "Now," he said, the strange intensity of a moment ago seeming to fade from his voice, "tell me how you might please me." The woman called Dove took a deep breath before she could answer. "Master," she said, at last, "I will please you however you wish." "That is not what I asked," the Master said gently. "I am experienced in many positions, Master," the woman called Dove answered confidently. Again, they were returning to the familiar ground of shared sexual interest, where she had no doubts of her abilities. "I am pleased to also provide service orally or anally if you wish it." "Do you enjoy anal sex?" the Master asked lightly. "I enjoy pleasing my Master," the woman called Dove answered. "Again, you do not answer the question I asked," the Master countered. "No matter. Tell me, what gives you pleasure?" "I am pleased to serve, Master," the woman called Dove replied. "That is three times, child," the Master said with an amused sigh. "I weary of this. Still, perhaps it is better if I learn you for myself. The gods below know what foolishness you may have convinced yourself of." He turned to face her. His face was stern, but the woman called Dove could see an amused glint in his eye. "First," the Master continued, "we must address your errors. Stand and remove your robe." The woman called Dove stood carefully. Slowly, she untied the plain cord and allowed her robe to fall open. With a shrug, she let it fall around her feet. The Master looked her up and down, his expression both frankly admiring and oddly contemplative. Finally, he started to undo his heavy leather belt. "The belt is for punishment," the Master said firmly, "Turn around and lay face down on the bed." The woman called Dove obeyed. Oddly, she found herself thinking that the bed reminded her of him. It was firm but the sheets were soft and luxurious. She had only a moment to consider that before the heavy leather belt laid a stinging line across her backside. The Master said nothing as the belt lashed down, neither chastising nor taunting. He simply, silently, laid blow after blow across her buttocks. Dove whimpered and gasped with each new blow. Her backside burned, warm and stinging. Her whimpers became yelps as the blows continued to fall. She thought about asking the Master to stop, telling him that it was too much, but even as the thought formed, the blows stopped. The bed shifted as the Master knelt beside her. Still without saying a word, his hands began to caress her buttocks, lightly, soothingly. Dove sighed. His hands were warm and strong, his touch gentle. She felt the heat spreading downward, becoming a warm wetness between her legs. Leisurely the Master's hands drifted up her back, to her shoulders and then down again, his fingers kneading along her spine. He softly stroked her buttocks again, his fingers at once firm and feather light. The merged heat from her stinging backside and warm wetness seemed to flare outward under that touch. His fingers traced paths along her back and arms, somehow dragging that warmth with them. "Surrender, child." The Master's voice seemed to be as much within her as outside. His glowing touch traced her arms and the edges of her breasts. It kindled more fire from her stinging backside, carrying that flame down the outside of her legs and then up her inner thighs to touch the soft wetness that was at once its source and its goal. Dove moaned as his fingers parted her wet folds, teasing her inside before sliding back up her buttocks and along her spine. Again and again the Master's fingers trailed heat throughout Dove's body, spreading the warmth and need that had always before had a single center to fill her totally. "Surrender," he whispered. Dove felt completely aware of every light touch he made as the Master's fingers continued to trace lines of fire across her body. She was no longer entirely sure where the warmth within her ended and his fingers began. Her breath came in deep, quick pants, contrasted by the cool touch of the air against her warm skin. Dove felt the lines of soft sheets and the shift of the firm mattress as extensions of her own body. She felt them shift and flex as the Master moved behind her. His weight lay across her now. His fingers brushed her shoulders and arms. His warm skin lay against hers. He entered her. His warm flesh filled her, completing her. Dove sighed and surrendered. She felt totally aware of him, aware of his fingers tracing their lazy patterns on her skin, of his weight lying against her, of his flesh moving inside her. Distinctions between bodies blurred and faded, lost in warmth. Dove surrendered herself completely, offering her awareness of self up to his touch. With this final surrender, that awareness grew, building on itself, echoing between them, growing with every touch, every motion, until it overwhelmed her. Orgasm obliterated all thought, banishing the last traces of self. For an eternity, Dove was lost. Slowly, she came back to herself. The Master sat naked on the bed beside her, his hand tracing a lazy pattern on her skin. Dove didn't question how she knew the pattern was different than before, somehow calling her back. "Yes," the Master said softly, his voice whispering in her head, "we will learn more of this in time." Dove's Birthday Evening It was Dove's birthday, so I decided to do something special for her.... We met for drinks downtown after work at a quaint little bar called the Mango Grove. It was an intimate underground speakeasy with cozy booths, low lighting, and a pumping electronic beat that the hip local crowd was grooving to. After we were cosily tucked into a comfy corner booth by the maître'd, Dove asked for something sweet, so the server brought a key lime martini along with a tall and tasty Belgian ale for me. She looked more ravishing than usual today, and I couldn't take my eyes from her. Dove was wearing a very stylish suit jacket, which opened to hint at a sexy lace camisole underneath, and short matching skirt – very business-like for the office, but also exuding immense sexual power. After a quick toast to her birthday, we sipped our drinks and then Dove leaned in closer for a quick kiss, and thanked me for planning the evening – even though she was a bit cautious about the events of the night, as I hadn't actually told her much. "Don't worry", I reassured her, "It'll be fun and relaxing", then I leaned in for a second kiss – this time lingering and playing my tongue softly against her lips and teasing the tip of her tongue. Dove's hands ran up the length of my inner thigh to express her approval, but stopped just prior to making contact with my bulging groin – such a tease, I thought – but her coy looks betrayed that she must have know she was in for some good loving later in the evening. After some light banter and playful caresses below the table, we finished our drinks and I hailed a cab on the street to take us to our next destination, opting to avoid the cold November rain for the 8 or more blocks to our destination. On the way we chatted some more, loosened a bit from the drinks, "Thanks for the story you sent me this morning, Mr. Sexy", she whispered into my ear in the back of the taxi, "I had to save it for lunchtime, and it got me so wet." Of course this delighted me, to imagine her squirming in her office chair unable to take care of her sexual needs amidst the open office area with her co-workers, and the idea that I had caused her such sexual distress with just a simple story. As she kissed me again with increasing depth and passion, Dove tucked something into my hand – It was her moist panties from the day, providing me with proof of the affect that my story had on her. The thought that she was now not wearing anything beneath her skirt brought my already erect member to a new level of firmness, and I was glad of the extra room the front of my causal work slacks afforded me to grow in. Soon enough we arrived in front of our destination, a brick heritage building in the older but still happening area of Hastings Street. The business was unmarked except for the street address, but local business men have used this facility for close to a hundred years – and guarded its secret well against becoming over popular. By the time I paid the cab and ushered her into the reception area of the grand building, Dove was decidedly pleased with the opulence of this strange place, yet still confused by the lack of any signage indicating its function. Several men, and perhaps a few of the women, passing through the foyer caught Dove's eye, and returned lewd and admiring glances, feasting upon her with their eyes and wishing to change places with me. This made my partner a bit self aware, but caused me to swell with pride for having this delicious vixen on my arm. My reservations were in order and so we were assigned a room number and I proceeded to lead Dove down a sweeping set of stairs leading into a catacomb of hallways to the private area set aside for us. Locating the door to our assigned room, I began to finally explain the history of this place to satisfy Dove's curiosities. "This is the oldest private bathhouse in Vancouver, originally set up by Greek businessmen", I began to explain. "It's a bit of a well kept secret," I expanded, "and we are not allowed on the lower levels – those are off-limits to hetero couples," which raised Dove's curiosities, but I cut the explanation short as I explained that we had the steam room booked for 60 minutes, then some time for relaxation afterwards. As we entered the antechamber of the private boudoir, Dove could see that the front of the room held exquisite lounge sofas which perfectly matched the lush carpet, while the walls were hung with one of a kind imported tapestries depicting ancient Greek spa scenes. Beyond this a series of archways separated the three areas of the room; through the first arch was a tiled area with open showers; beyond that lay a glass wall and door accessing to the steam room, which was lined with benches for relaxing. As I turned to look deeply into Dove's eyes, I could see that she was pleased, so I pressed her into my arms and gave her another deep, wet kiss – our lips and tongues enfolding into each other. Then I stepped back, and began to undress – slowly so that she could watch, and proceeded to the shower area. As the water splashed around my lithe body, I let the warm liquid wash the workday away down the drain, and after a little while, I could sense another body nearby. Dove had followed suit, and was now enjoying the second shower across from mine – her delicious body lathered in soap foam. I stopped to watch her caress her own body, glistening beneath the heat lights in the shower room, and making me yearn for her even more. My erection began to rise again as I gazed upon her body, pointed directly at Dove, and showing itself to be an amazingly intuitive homing beacon. I turned my shower off and crossed the room slowly as she lathered her breasts and stomach with her back turned to me. As I softly drew her into my arms, she leaned back into my embrace, and I could feel my chest warm against her skin while the hardened shaft of my erect cock cradled itself vertically between the cheeks of her luscious buttocks. As my arms encircled her, her own hands reached back to feel my firm thighs and buttocks, and she let out a gasp to signal her pleasure as I nibbled at her ear. My own hands caressed her body with the soap, skilfully and playfully exploring the features of her stomach, thighs, arms, and breasts. Once she was fully lathered, I allowed the water to rinse her thoroughly before I turned off the wall faucets and retrieved some towels and bottles of cool water for us, then lead her into the steam room, but not before one last embrace and deep kiss, my firm cock again pressed between our wet and glistening bodies. Drying then wrapping ourselves in the soft white towels, Dove took my hand as I led her into the steam room - closing the door behind us to keep the heat in, we made our way to the benches. As we lay out Dove began to tell me about her own fantasy that she had this afternoon, after she finished reading my story. As she spoke, she closed her eyes and I watched her begin to caress herself – perhaps not even knowing that she was doing it. Her fantasy began with waking up in bonds; blindfolded, tied up with bolts of silken sheets, and roughly manhandled into position and being commanded to obey. As her story unfolded, I became extremely aroused – both by her story, and also by watching her hands slowly play across her skin and allowing her towel to fall open to reveal her nakedness, one inch at a time. I was so hungry for her now, as she kept telling of her dream of being forced down to the ground and taken from behind. As we sweated in this hot room, I kneeled on the lower bench, and encouraged her to part her thighs to make way for me, and begged her to keep talking. As she described the feeling of a fantasy cock penetrating the depths of her pussy, I softly nudged her fingers away from her swollen clit and replaced them with the soft caress of my tongue. Dove continued with her story of being fucked from behind by a dark and mysterious lover, as I began to make love to her wet pussy, drinking in her sweet juices with my mouth. My tongue slowly grazing the long edges of her pink lips, up and back and up again on both sides. Locking her clit between my lips and alternately sucking and flickering my tongue across her tiny nub Dove began to moan softly, and wove her hands through my hair, encouraging me to quicken the tempo. I led Dove down from the benches in the humid hotness of the room, and pressed her up against the cool tiled wall, facing her and gazing into her eyes. As we kissed her hands sought out my swollen cock, slowly caressing its length, yearning for it inside her, and threatening to make me spurt my milky seed all over her stomach and breasts as we stood there embracing. At long, I pushed her back hard against the wall and began planting kisses down her beautiful body, longing to taste her delicious pussy again on my lips. As I reached the delta of Dove's fertile pussy again, she arched her back and threw one leg over my shoulder to give me better access to her tight little cunt, and resumed telling me her fantasy as I recommenced licking her towards ecstasy. As the intensity of her story increased, we became enwrapped in the hot hot steam, and my tongue began to probe the depths of her pussy, I could tell that Dove's story was getting her to her destination just as much as my own skills were, as she recounted the tale of her mystery lover roughly fucking her and pulling her hair and head back in a hot fury. As her moans increasingly replaced the words of her story so that she was barely even speaking, I began to work a finger gently around her hot little pink fuck hole as my tongue worked at her clit, soon to be joined by a second digit once she was ready to receive it. Eventually I could feel her body beginning to convulse and yield alternately as she strained to tell me about being fucked hard and violated from behind, and in her story she began to cum just as her assailant let loose his own thick juices deep into her, and I knew these words were bringing her to the brink of her own, real, orgasm, so I kept up my pressure on her swollen clit until I could feel every muscle in her body constrict simultaneously as she moaned out her first wave of orgasm and her pussy tightened around my finger, flooding my waiting mouth with her sweet liquor. Fully three waves rocked her body before she crashed down from her pink cloud, and I had to hold her up in my arms to prevent this sweet, sweet bird from collapsing onto the cold wet floor tiles. Once she had sufficient recovered, Dove wrapped her arms around me in a lovingly embrace and thanked me for making her cum so hard by planting yet another deep kiss on my mouth and tasting her own juices there. As we gained our composure, she took control by grabbing my still hard cock and leading me out into the shower where we lovingly wiped the sweat and her cum juice from our bodies. Towelling off again, we now noticed that the room had been rearranged somewhat to include a new massage bench which was not there before, and our sudden realization that the servants who brought it into the room must have had ample view to our lovemaking – but rather than make us feel awkward, it only aroused me more to know that we had been observed – something that is probably commonplace in this establishment, but erotically heightening to its patrons nonetheless. With renewed arousal, I helped Dove to arrange herself on the narrow bench, laying face up, then I located the array of oils which had been delivered with the bench and I set to work on her newly relaxed body. Beginning at her feet, I oiled up her body and began to work my way slowly upwards on a journey past her thighs to her glistening midriff and luscious breasts. As I caressed her nipples, Dove asked for some oil and I soon realized that she wanted to stroke my cock as I caressed her. I stood beside her amazing body while she oiled my entire shaft and pumped away at it lovingly, giving me ample view of her glistening and lovely body – how I would love to paint that fine canvass with ribbons of my milky white cum; watching as spurt after spurt landed across those amazing bare breasts and nipples, and fill her belly button to the brim with my musky seed. But I knew that Dove would be disappointed if I didn't cum inside of her tonight, and I had yet to impale her with my engorged member and hear her squeal as I pumped that wanting cock in and out of her like a ravenous fuck machine. Releasing my cock from Dove's grip, I directed her to turn over on the bench, having to swat her hand playfully away from my cock several times - she needed it so bad by this point. Now I stood in front of her and began to work on her shoulders, which provided a perfect angle for her to take me into her mouth. Dove's lips lovingly enveloped the head of my cock as she stroked it and caressed my shaven scrotum with her free hand. After a few minutes experiencing her expert mouth, I again felt my cum welling up ready to spurt forth - but not yet - I needed to gain control again, and I the desire to fuck Dove's sweet pussy in a real bad way was overwhelming. Disappointing her as I drew my swollen shaft away from between her moist lips, I moved around the table and rearranged Dove so that her feet were planted on the floor and spread wide to give me ample access to her wanting wet pussy, then I got behind and began rubbing my oiled cock against her slick firm buttocks and began teasing her pussy and clit with its tip. I held Dove's hips firmly in my hands, pinning her down to the massage bench to keep her from backing up onto my cock as she begged me to slide my cock into her. Reaching forward, I grabbed a fistful of hair and forced her head back to look at me, and as we gazed into each other's eyes I eased my cock into her tight little twat, watching her eyes flutter with pleasure as I glided all the way into her, making her gasp and moan again. Keeping her roughly pinned to the bench I slowly fucked Dove's wet cunt, in and out, watching my cock as it rammed into her sweet, warm moist hole. As I fucked her from behind like that, I began to use the thumb of my free hand to rub around her anus. Gently at first, then more firmly, getting the oils penetrated into the skin around her rim and making her moan anew. I could feel her body push back against my hand as she yearned for me to penetrate her twice over, but I kept teasing her puckering asshole with my thumb until she squirmed, and it became a game for both of us and she laughed sinisterly each time I pulled away when she wanted me to run my thumb full length into her ass. Eventually I caved in and eased my thick thumb slowly into Dove's waiting anus, simultaneously running my cock from tip to base, driving it into her pussy – making her call out simultaneously in pleasure and pain. I worked her ass slowly like that for a while, adding more oil to ready it for more, then I eased my cock out of her pussy and slowly but firmly pressed it against the rim of her anus until she moaned and begged me to fuck her ass. As I press it firmly, Dove let out a loud moan as her asshole yielded to let me ease inside. Her approval was openly displayed by now, and she begged me to keep fucking her ass as she reached down and began to play with her clit. As I thrust into her again and again, Dove's inner animal was taking over and unleashing her own personal orgy. After a about minute, but what seemed like eternity at the time, Dove 's body began to rock again and she brought herself to another climax – my cock buried deep into her ass I thrust into her harder, and felt my own orgasm coming brought on by her body spasms. I pulled her hair back again, just as Dove started to cum in waves, holding off my own orgasm with much difficulty until she was well into the throes of her own – by this time the whole room was filled with the sounds of our animalistic lovemaking. When I finally collapsed on top of her we were both spent, and had likely exceeded our allotted time for the room, but we quickly recovered and showered up and then hit the town – searching the city's seedy underbelly for a postcoital drink or two before making love again in my big cozy bed and falling asleep in each other's arms. Dove's Discipline You walk silently into the room; the warmth of the fire fills the room. You look across the room to me. I am lying on the furs in front of the fire. You walk over to me, bending down to stroke my cheek, stirring me from my slumber. Looking up I greet you with a hello. You glare back at me, “growling, hello is that is how you greet me?” I quiver as your hand grabs my hair and you pull me to my knees. “Girl, you have been taught better than to greet like that.” “You whisper and your words are not heard.” Releasing my hair, your angry words fill the room, “slut, l am your Master and you will remember to address ME as such.” My eyes fill with tears and I lower my head as you grow a demand that I address you once again. My head lowered I whisper, “”hello, Master.” Glaring, you roar, “are you telling a mouse, you say it with pride girl.” I lift my head tears streaming down my cheeks. I say firmly, “hello, Master.” I quickly lower my head. ‘Better girl,” You roar. You take your seat, pointing to your feet. I understand what is required and I crawl to your, feet. “Slut disrobe, you order me. Disrobing, my body reflects the light of the fire. Growling, you tell me to sit cross-legged in front of you. You bend forward your hand pressing onto my heat. As You remove Your hand, You growl forcefully, “you’re dry girl.” Sitting back in the chair, cursing between your teeth, your voice again fills the room, “your cunt should be wet, ready for me girl.” My head is lowered as tears run down my cheeks in a steady stream. “Do you not wish to please me girl?” I shake my head without words. “Answer Me girl.” “ I to please you Master,” I reply. Growling, You tell me to trace the outer lips of my heat. As I trace, you bellow for me to watch my fingers, and to use my tears to wet my pussy lips. You stand, walking over to the cupboard pulling open the drawer. Taking the item you need from it, you return to your seat. My fingers trace around my pussy as you growl for me to part my cunt wide and to hold it open while I trace with my other hand. Pulling out my dildo from your pocket, you lean forward shoving it into my mouth. You take my nipples between your fingers squeezing them. Your hand moves to your hand moves to your pocket, placing a nipple clamp on each nipple. My tears still falling, you sit back in your chair, watching me. You tell me to rub my clit slowly. You undo your belt slipping your pants off. Your cock stands for me to see. Leaning forward running Your fingers along my cunt, you give voice to your hunger, “your wetness is growing girl.” You push my dildo into my mouth a little more, then slide it out and back in, four or five times and pulling the chain attached to the nipple clamps. Your cock quivers in front of my eyes. You sit back and growl, you are my slut to do with as l please, when and where l please, and you will be ready for me when l want. “Do you understand?” I nod as you take the dildo from my mouth. “Now slut, take my cock in your mouth, leave your pussy alone.” As I lean forward, about to take Your cock in my mouth, You pull my head back, “slut, you will keep My cock in your mouth till l tell you to release it, if you fall asleep and l have not told you to take it from your mouth and it slips from your mouth, you will be punished by way of my crop on your ass ten times.” “You understand girl?” As I say, “yes Master,” You shove my head down on your cock and sit back, your crop resting on the arm of the chair. My heart racing, my desire to please you burning in my slave's belly, I suck your cock greedily, you growl, grasping the chain of the nipple clamps and roughly pull. “Girl, I have not given you permission to suck my cock.” I pull back as the clamps bite into the tender flesh of my swollen nipples, your cock slipping from my mouth. 1...I hear you growl, as the stinging bite of the crop hits my rounded bottom. I moan catching my lip between my teeth to stop the sound from escaping my lips. 2...you girl are My slut, My slave, My property. 3...you will obey without hesitation. 4...you will obey without question. 5...fresh tears fall on my cheeks. 6...the flesh of my ass on fire as each blow falls. 7...You are Mine, girl. 8...I whimper. 9...my soul despairs with Your displeasure. 10...I cry out as You pull me by the hair back onto Your hard throbbing cock...with a powerful thrust. Pulling my head back and forth, Your cock swells in my throat, tension building. I groan. You growl as, with a final powerful stroke You bury Your cock deep in my throat. It explodes. I swallow time and again, drinking Your cum hungrily. I began to slip Your cock from my mouth. I freeze as Your hand drifts toward Your crop. “No slut, be still.” I stay in my place, Your cock in my throat. You run Your hand over my tender ass in a gentle caress and move down seeking my heat. You smile, Your fingers slick with my juices. Your hand moves over my ass, smearing my juices over the fevered tender flesh...Gasping my body trembles. You settle back in Your chair giving the chain hanging between my full breasts a gentle tug. I moan. Time passes. I shift in my position in a futile attempt to ease my discomfort. I stiffen as Your hand creeps toward Your crop. Again time passes. My mind is racing with my thoughts, my heart heavy with the knowledge that I have disappointed my Master. Your taste lingers in my mouth. . Your cock stirs and I look up to find You watching me...O/our eyes meet and You reach down to gently brush away the tears that are falling without my notice. “Girl, I know your soaring spirit is bound at this moment with the thought that you do not please Me.” This is not the cases lass,” You say in that low strong voice that sends waves of pleasure through my body. Your cock stirs again in my mouth...my eyes plead with Yours. You nod. My tongue begins a slow dance over the length of Your cock. You smile at the passion, the fiery lust reflected in my eyes. Your cock reacts and I suck You deep into my throat. I moan pulling my head back, Your cock sliding slowly from my throat until it rests on my lips. Lost in my lust for You I move my head burying Your length in my throat. With a ravenous growl, You pull Your cock from me and stand. Moving behind me You rub Your cock over my dripping cunt. Aye lass You groan deeply effected by my passion for You. With a powerful thrust You enter me. I whimper as You drive Your cock in and out of me relentlessly. Your hunger matches my lust as our raging fires consume us. I grind my hips against You drowning in my desire for You. Reaching around me Your hand grasps the chain of the nipple clamps and pulls pushing me to the edge. You growl, “My slave. My slut. Give Me what is Mine, your passion, your soul.” “Cum for me slut.” I cry out as I fall. My body shudders as the waves of my orgasm crash violently through me. Unable to hold back any longer, you growl. Savagely pounding into me. Holding your throbbing cock deep inside me, your cock explodes, filling me with your seed. Ravished by lust we collapse spent on the fur. You hold me close to You and whisper, “Mine.“ We drift away to dream holding our passion close. Dove's Tale I have a love/hate relationship with the Non-Con category, and this story is the result. It is NOT fun or pleasant, but I do like the protagonist's spirit. All characters are over the age of 18. Feel free to rate and/or comment...I love the feedback (even if it's just 'this sucked!) ***** MUSIC blared through the small bedroom, and a bright overhead light flicked on, making it impossible to continue sleeping. The brunette girl in the single bed jerked awake as Shania belted out 'I'm keeping you forever and for always.' She sighed when she realized where she was, then groaned when she tried to move, feeling the pain of the previous night's 'training session.' She sat up and glared in the direction the music seemed to be coming from. Another one of his not very subtle message songs, reminding her of her captivity from the very start of the day. She ran her fingers through her sleep-tangled hair and looked around the room. Although small and sparsely furnished, it was a honeymoon suite compared to the tiny, gloomy concrete cell she'd spent every other night in since her kidnapping. There was a real bed instead of a cot, a desk with a chair, a second chair with (she noticed with a grimace) a large square pillow next to it, and windows-actual windows, small yes and (she was certain) made of some kind of unbreakable faux-glass, but still... The windows drew her eyes, she longed to see sunlight after so long...but just her luck, the day was grey and gloomy. 'Figures,' she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The hateful song finally stopped, and she let out another long, miserable sigh. Hot tears filled her eyes as she remembered the night before, and the things she had done to get the 'privilege' of this nicer room. God the horrible things she had done...and said...all those things she had sworn over&over she would never do...ashamed, she dropped her face in to her hands. She had knelt for him...begged for him...called him Master...thanked him for the abuse he dealt out... Fuck, she had even *crawled* for the bastard! With a moan of anguish, she lurched to her feet and staggered to the small bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time to throw up. Toilet, shower stall, sink...soap, shampoo&conditioner, hairbrush, a toothbrush and toothpaste, towel&washcloth...a small make-up kit and a metal mirror...nothing useful, nothing she could use as a weapon... She splashed cold water on her face and looked in the mirror, almost grateful to see the anguish in her brown eyes. 'Remember this feeling Philly,' she said to her reflection. 'Remember how miserable you feel. Remember how much it hurts-worse than anything that monster could ever do to your body.' Her jaw clenched in determination. 'Never again,' she vowed. She walked slowly back to the bed and sat down cross-legged in the center of the mattress. She'd never been very religious, but now she sat and silently prayed-not for a miracle, not for his death (no matter how happy that would have made her)...just for the strength and courage to endure this trial without losing herself. She sat unmoving, almost unaware of her surroundings, until the door opened and the big man called Barry entered. He was her captor's man Friday-huge, powerful, bald, and silent, with a face that seemed to be carved from stone. He may have been expressionless and merciless, but he'd never been cruel. When the bastard ordered him to tie her up or take her back to her cell, he'd never used any more force than absolutely neccessary...and never taken any liberties or even copped a feel. She didn't care. He served the man who held her prisoner, so she hated him. Barry had a covered tray with what smelled like breakfast, and a small notebook. He set the tray on the desk...silver, classy, obviously very expensive, just like the dark wood desk it sat on...and held up the book, tapping it until she glanced up and noticed it. Satisified, he left, locking the door behind him. She didn't move. She let her thoughts drift, remembering that she HAD won some battles in her time in this luxurious prison. Food was one. He had tried to hand-feed her, like a pet or an infant, and she had absolutely refused to play along. Most of the time, even when she wasn't gagged, she said very little. But when he tried to feed her, she cursed him and insulted him non-stop...not yelling and ranting, just a monotone litany of 'assholes' and 'fuck yous' until he gave up. So he tried letting her go hungry for a couple days, then showed up outside her old cell. He pushed a little cart covered with a delicious gourmet meal...and a bowl of the tasteless gruel she usually ate. 'You can come out and be fed something wonderful, little Dove,' he said, smiling arrogantly, 'or you can have a bowl of mush. Your call.' 'I already told you,' she answered, her voice soft and calm but firm, 'I am not an invalid. I will not be fed.' 'Suit yourself,' he shot back, and slid the bowl into her cell, than sat down and made a production of tucking a napkin into his collar. And despite the fact that she hadn't eaten a bite for almost three days, she picked up the bowl and hurled it at the barred door, splattering him with gruel. 'I can't eat with you stinking up the place anyway,' she snarled. The whole scene cost her a brutal spanking...but a few hours later Barry silently delivered another bowl of gruel and she ate it, blessedly alone. He hadn't tried to feed her by hand since. She had also won the piercings battle. On her second night as his captive, had had announced that he wanted her nipples and clit pierced. 'If you hold still, that's all I'll do,' he warned. "Struggle and fight and I'll pierce your labia too.' Of course she had fought with every ounce of strength she had. He had to strap her to a table almost ankles to neck to put the holes and rings in her. After the session was over and she was returned to the gloom of her cell, the first thing she did was take all the little hoops out and flush them down the toilet. He was predictably angry when he saw her the next night, and cruelly caned her ass before re-doing all the piercings, even adding two more to her pussy lips. This time, he put her in her cell with her wrists cuffed behind her back. But it's dangerous to leave someone restrained that way for too long. He came to her cell the next morning and uncuffed her, and despite his threats she immediately began removing the jewelry from her breasts and vagina. To punish her, he whipped her back, thighs and breasts...but he stopped trying to pierce her sensitive spots. For the entire time she had been his prisoner (she thought it had been about two months), she'd fought him every step of the way. He demanded that she call him Master, so she refused to refer to him as anything but Dickless. He told her never to swear at him, so she cursed endlessly. One night, when she was already bound standing with her feet wide apart and her hands high over her head, he announced that 'from now on you get a stroke with the cane for every obscenity.' She laughed bitterly and glared into his eyes, fearless in spite of her helpless pose. 'Really? Fucking really asshole? A fucking stroke every fucking time I fucking swear? What a fucking bunch of fucking shit!' He shook his head and picked up the cane, but she didn't stop. 'Fuck you you dickless motherfucker,' she snarled, and when the first blow came she bit back a squeal of pain and stopped trying to form sentences. Instead, she just spat 'fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...' over and over as fast as she could until she ran out of breath. She took a deep breath. 'So how fucking many is that asshole? Or can't you fucking count that fucking high?' Frustrated, he had smacked her ass again and again...until she was sobbing in agony...until her lovely little bottom was bright red and the skin was broken in a couple places. He walked around in front of her and lifted her chin. She was a sweaty, red-eyed, tearful mess, barely conscious. 'Ready to apologize?' he smirked. 'Go fuck yourself, Dickless,' she managed to gasp before she passed out. Hours passed as she meditated, thought and prayed. She got up to use the bathroom, and when she returned, so had Barry. Wordless and expressionless as always, her removed the breakfast tray and replaced it with another. This time, after he left she lifted the lid and checked her meal. Turkey sandwich, fresh fruit, and a bottle of water. She picked up the sandwich and started to take a bite, then glanced at the notebook still sitting on the desk. 'Slave Positions' was written on the cover, and there was a blue Post-It stuck under that title. 'Dove-learn pages 5 and 6 for tonight. Master.' Sickened, she flung the sandwich away. She picked up the book and stomped angrily into the bathroom. Without looking at them, she ripped out page after page, crumpled them up and flushed them. Finally, she worked through her rage. She took some deep, cleansing breaths and paced around the small room. 'Keep your shit together Philly,' she admonished herself. She lay down on the bed, laced her hands behind her head and stared at the ceiling, letting her thoughts drift. Inevitably, they wandered back to the night her life had been turned upside down. It was scary how well thought out the whole thing was. About 7:30 at night, there was a knock on her apartment door. Two men were outside-one in a suit, the other in a police uniform. They showed her ID and asked if they could ask a few questions about a co-worker...a guy who'd just been hired a couple weeks before that she barely knew. Of course she let them in. She'd barely closed the door when Uniform grabbed her, covering her mouth with his hand. Together, they wrestled her to the ground, where Cheap Suit gave her an injection. She had no idea what it was, but it was brutally effective. It didn't quite knock her unconscious...it was more like being in a dream, or maybe underwater. Everything seemed to happen very slowly. She couldn't seem to get her body to respond, or her voice to work. She drifted in and out as they took her away, half-carrying her down a flight of stairs to a car, then to the airport, then a plane ride, then another car...and finally here. She honestly didn't know where she was. It was a mansion, a hell of a big place. Her abductor was loaded. She woke up in a cage. A big cage, to be sure, steel bars extending from a concrete wall on three sides, with a stainless steel prison-style toilet built into the back wall. That's when she saw *him* for the first time. Stocky, handsome, in his mid-40s, his dark hair stylishly cut, looking at her with an arrogant half-smile she despised instantly. She didn't even know his name. He introduced himself simply as her Master, then let her rant and yell and threaten him for a while. When she ran out of words, he unlocked the big cage and dragged her out. She fought-she always fought-but he was simply bigger, stronger, and someone who knew how to handle himself in a physical confrontation. He was able to shift his body just enough so her punchs and kicks either missed or just brushed him. He pulled her to the middle of the room, stretched her arms over her head and locked them into steel cuffs hanging from the ceiling. Quickly, dodging her kicks, he got her ankles into chains on the floor. She was a helpless, spread eagled, upside-down 'Y.' He pulled up a chair and sat calmly a few feet away, watching with that same smirk as she struggled and yanked at the bonds, succeeding only in making her wrists and ankles sore. He let her rave and snarl for about ten minutes, then rose and looked her in the face. 'If you want to know what's going on, shut up. Otherwise I'll be forced to gag you.' Defiantly, she kept yelling and cursing, until he held up the enormous ball gag. The sight of the horrid thing, that would stretch her mouth and jaws painfully, was enough to make her stop. Calmly, he explained. He had paid a lot of money to have her brought to him, and now owned her. The sooner she accepted that she was a slave, the easier her life would be. 'No one knows you're here. There's no way to escape.' He took a big scissors and cut off her clothes as she wriggled and bucked. She was still wearing the same outfit she'd had on at her apartment-tee shirt, sweat pants, panties and socks-and soon they were in a pile on the floor. Her anger returned and she couldn't help it-she started cursing him again, but he was too busy savoring his first look at her body to worry about it. He ran his hands all over her, stroking and fondling her legs, stomach, breasts and ass, and she felt nauseous. His touch made her skin crawl. Finally, he gave her what he called an introductory whipping. Ten lashes with a fairly lightweight strap. Thinking back, she was proud of the fact that not once during the ordeal did she beg for mercy. She cried and moaned-it hurt like hell-but didn't debase herself. When it was done, and she hung in her bonds sobbing, he whistled loudly and the hulking Barry entered. Together, the two men released her from her cuffs, only to lock her hands behind her back. Barry escorted her to her primary cell. They left the room through a huge door-almost like a bank vault door. Down a flight of stairs, through another imposing door, down a short hallway, and he opened a smaller but still massive door that led to the cell she spent most of her time in. There was a cot with a single pillow and blanket, another prison-style toilet, and a tiny light in the ceiling that gave her just barely enough light to see where the cot and toilet were. The whole room was maybe six feet by six feet. Barry took her cuffs off, shoved her in, and loudly locked both doors. She threw herself on the cot and cried herself to sleep. Since then, he had brought her out every day, or every other day, attempting to turn her into the docile, obedient slave girl he wanted. Sometimes his strategy was to try to get her to follow orders, then use the cane or riding crop when she refused. Occasionally he tried using pleasure. He tried every trick he knew with his hands and mouth to rouse her passions, unable to understand that she found him so repulsive, so evil, that all his carressing, stroking, kissing and licking did was make her uncomfortable and mildly nauseous. Once, he had bound on her back, naked, blindfolded and spread, and tied a powerful hitachi-style vibrator between her legs to relentlessly stimulate her clit and pussy lips. He left her that way for over, the room dark and silent, with nothing to distract her from the sensations between her legs. She had honestly tried to enjoy it. After the hell she'd endured, she felt like she deserved some pleasure. But every time she started to get turned on, she would twitch or squirm and become aware of her position...of the silken ropes holding her wrists and ankles...and the good feelings would evaporate. When he returned, he was confident he would find her dripping wet, panting and moaning, ready to beg either for release or for mercy after an endless string of orgasms. Instead, when he went to push his fingers inside her, he discovered she was dry as the desert. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' he grumbled. She barked an angry laugh. 'What's wrong with me? With ME? You kidnapping, raping, sadistic sonofabitch! You actually have the gall to ask what's wrong with ME?' He was so puzzled and frustrated he had Barry take her back to her cell without even giving her a beating. Then came last night... She tried to rationalize her failure. She was tired, she was drained, she'd endured so much. He'd put a brutal clamp on her clit-one that made her scream, with sharp little teeth that bit cruelly into the tender bud. When he threatened to start adding weights to the clamp unless she 'behaved,' she finally broke. She had hit bottom and could take no more abuse. So she tried to follow his orders, admittedly with little enthusiasm and even less passion...and was rewarded with a nicer bedroom and an ache in her heart that hurt far worse than any whipping. She took another deep breath and focused on the few advantages she had. She could think of three. First, she knew he didn't want to badly injure or damage her. He didn't just want a slave for his bedroom-he wanted to show her off to the other slave holding scum he called friends. That meant he couldn't maim, disfigure, or scar her without looking like a poor trainer. Second, she had the knowlege that there was really nothing to gain by giving in to his twisted demands. Even if she was perfectly obedient, he was still going to hold her prisoner...still going to beat and torture, molest and rape her...he had proudly admitted he was a sexual sadist, so she might as well fight for her personality and her soul. Last, she knew she had Right on her side. It wasn't that she was squeamish about sex, even kinky sex. Hell, she'd been in a relationship with a boyfriend that liked to spank her, then try to make her groan and whimper when he pounded her pussy. Still...this situation was just wrong, evil and unacceptable. She couldn't be a willing participant. The door to her room opened again. This time, Barry wasn't bringing food. He had a garment bag and a small box. He held them up until she looked at him. Stoically, he picked up the sandwich from the floor and removed her uneaten lunch. She remembered what was expected of her. Shower, wash and brush her hair, put on a (little) make-up, then don the clothes he had sent and wait to be brought into his presence. Out of sheer morbid curiousity, she opened the bag and box. Her mouth twisted when she saw the ridiculous, sheer harem-style dress he expected her to wear for him, and she let out a snort of derision when the box proved to contain bracelets for her wrists and ankles, adorned with tiny bells. 'In your dreams, Dickless,' she muttered. Instead, she took a bit of pleasure in ripping the skimpy gown to shreds, standing on it and pulling with both hands until the frail seams tore. She was wearing baggy, light blue pajamas, almost like hospital scrubs, and she was damned if she was going to change out of something comfortable to look like a reject from Arabian Nights. Tearing up the outfit made her start to sweat, and it gave her an idea. She did a little work out, running in place, doing some push-ups and sit-ups, working up a good lather. She went into the bathroom, running her fingers up through her damp, sweaty hair. An almost-smile appeared on her face as she had an idea. She squeezed a little toothpaste onto her hands, then ran them through her hair again and again, adding some stickiness and stiffness. By the time she finished, she looked like she hadn't showered for weeks. As a finishing touch, the next time she had to pee, she wiped herself with her hands than dried her hands on her hair. Her nose wrinkled at the smell, and she hoped it would really...well piss him off. As she went to sit down on the bed and wait some more, she realized that even though she was still miserable, she was feeling more upbeat than usual. She had made her decision, found some renewed strength, and was ready to face him at his worst. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Alexander draped his jacket over his office chair, loosened his tie, and whistled tunelessly as he picked up the girl's file. He was looking forward to this evening. She had been a tough nut to crack-maybe the toughest subject he'd ever had-but he knew eventually she would break. Last night he'd finally slipped around her defenses. Tonight, he would show her the benefits of being obedient...and of being His. He practically knew all this information by heart, but re-read it anyway, just in case there was something he'd forgotten he could use.