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Introspections Ch. 02

By: HR1983



"Done with your book already? What did you find to read anyway?"

The girl held up the book she had just finished, sarcastically asking him, "Do you read romance novels for pleasure or research?"

He replied quietly, "Those were my sister's. I didn't know I had kept them."

"Where is she? Does she know you've taken up slave training in your spare time?" Over the course of two days the girl had become increasingly defiant, submitting to most of his requests but making it clear she was not happy about doing so.

"Drop it Hannah." He knew she was baiting him, but she didn't pick up on the thinly veiled hint, or if she did she chose to ignore it. 

"I take it that's a no. What's she going to think when she finds out?"

"I told you to drop it. You need to learn to do as you're told!" 

He ignored her kicking and screaming as he dragged the girl downstairs. He dumped her at the foot of the staircase to unlock the door, then ordered her through it and into the basement bedroom. She stood in the middle of the room with her hands crossed over her chest. "What are you going to do now?" she dared.

"I'm going to leave you to cool off while I do. I'm not going to punish you when I'm angry." He sat upstairs near the fireplace flipping through the abandoned book as he tried to regain his composure. After awhile he sighed, not sure if he dreaded or longed for what he knew had to happen next.

The girl sat on the bed, knees drawn to her chest. She was physically cooling off quickly despite the loose fitting sweats he had given her to wear that morning. Her temper, however, was still simmering. She knew he was angry, had felt the tension building between them over the past two days, but had also found herself unable to stop pushing. She was frightened by what he might do to her, but also determine not to continue simply complying with his every request.

When he entered the room she stood without being asked, again crossing her arms and waiting to see what he would do. He didn't give her a chance to argue, grasping her arm firmly and pulling her toward the main room. She struggled half heartedly, just enough to make it clear she was not a willing participant but not enough to actually stop him.

He had pulled the padded bench to the middle of the room and equipped it with restraints. Releasing her, he turned toward her and crossed his arms over his chest mockingly copying her stance. "Strip," he ordered.

There was the typical nibbling of that bottom lip, this time accompanied by a flash of anger in her eyes. "Make me," she fumed.

"You know, the moments before your first punishment might not be the best time to test me," he pointed out matter-of-factley. Naturally she ignored him.

"Let me be clear here. I am going to spank you, and you are going to be naked when I do. That is not negotiable. I will, however, give you a choice in what happens after. I told you I won't continue providing you with clothes I have to remove myself, so if I have to make you I'll leave you naked. That suits me just fine."

Yes, she was stubborn but she was also rational and remaining naked for an undetermined amount of time was not an appealing thought. Shooting him a look that implied he should keep his distance she angrily ripped the sweatshirt over her head and just as quickly yanked off the pants, throwing both in his general direction.

He didn't give her a chance to object to being strapped to the bench, efficiently pushing her facedown onto it, cuffing her wrists to each leg and running a strap across her waist as well as her legs to keep her firmly secured. He slid a finger under each strap, ensuring they were not tight enough to cut off her circulation.

"Do you know why I am going to punish you?" he inquired.

"Because you want to, and because you don't want me talking about your sister," she retorted.

"I don't like talking about my sister, but I'm not going to punish you for asking questions. However, I did give you a direct order. I have gone out of my way to primarily give you options, but when I do give you an order I expect you to comply. When I say drop it, I mean it."

With that he started in on the spanking, smacking each side of her bottom in turn. He warmed her up with several lighter blows, before giving her a few that were heavier, though still not anywhere near full force.

"Ouch, that hurts!" she objected.

"I told you, this is a punishment. It's supposed to hurt." The spanking continued, with the girl gasping at the harder blows but refusing to give in and beg him to stop.

"I'm not going to cry," she informed him, or perhaps she was talking to herself out loud, he really wasn't certain which it was.

"I don't expect you too. If you can take a whip without crying you can certainly take this." He accentuated the final word with a harder blow that made her buck against the restraints before returning to more moderate strikes on each cheek. "I hate you!" she cried.

"I didn't order you to like me," he responded. After a few more blows he stopped. "Why are you fighting me? I haven't even pushed you yet." He wasn't expecting her angry response.

"Because you won't touch me! It's been two freaking days and you haven't even touched me! Why don't you get on with it already?"

Stunned, he thought back over the last two days. It was true, after his ineffective attempt to physically comfort her after her nightmare he had avoided even casual physical contact, and wanting to give her time to settle in before starting her training in earnest he had almost gone about his days as if she wasn't even there. Eventually, like a petulant child, she'd unconsciously decided even negative attention was better than no attention at all, and she'd certainly managed to get his attention.

Unstrapping her, he helped her to her feet, with her hands now free she automatically rubbed her red bottom. "You're right, I'm sorry," he apologized. Her shocked look indicated an apology was the last thing she had been expecting.

Picking the sweats up from the floor he handed them to her. "Come on," he encouraged as he walked toward the stairs. He motioned for her to go up the stairs ahead of him, and placing a hand gently on her back prompted her toward the master bedroom. She stiffened as they approached the door. "Relax, I'm not going to force you into my bed," he reassured her, leading her through the bedroom into the master bath.

In the bathroom he indicated she should have a seat on the toilet and she did so, hugging the clothes as if reluctant to give them up. He made no move to take them, instead adding bubbles to the stream of water flowing into the large jetted tub. When the tub had filled he gently reached out his hand.

She was still angry, but the bath was tempting, and eventually she relinquished the clothes and moved toward the tub. Ignoring him altogether she climbed in on her own, wincing slightly at the heat.

"Too hot?" he inquired. She shook her head and submerged herself in the water. He simply watched her for awhile, relieved as the tension slowly drained from her face. He grabbed a bottle of shampoo and settled himself on the side of the tub.

"I can do it," she insisted as she reached for the bottle.

"No, let me." The tone in his voice made it clear this was an order, not a request, and she thought abruptly of the sensations in her bottom, though they were almost gone now. Sighing, she turned her back to him and allowed him to massage the shampoo into her scalp, noticing again the faint scent of strawberries. When he finished he rinsed her hair gently with a bucket of warm water. 

As the water cooled he glanced around the bathroom considering his options. The discarded sweatsuit lay on the counter and his robe hung on the back of the door, but he chose a fluffy towel instead, offering her a hand. She took it this time, climbing out, he wrapped her softly in the towel and before she knew what was happening swept her into his arms. He was pleased to find her determination to resist him had seemingly faded. 

He was sorely tempted to bring her to the king sized bed in the master bedroom, but he had promised not to force her. Instead he carried her to the bathroom next to her room, retrieving her own robe and offering it to her. When she was sufficiently covered he guided her to her bedroom, gently lifting her into her bed and tucking her in. He ran his fingers across her forehead and then impulsively bent down to softly kiss her brow.

"Have sweet dreams this time Hannah," he said as he reluctantly left the room. 

The mix of feelings she was experiencing overwhelmed her, hatred toward him and a desire to continue resisting battled with her building feelings of contentment and desire to allow him to care for her, She eventually fell into a restless sleep, and this night she didn't dream at all.

Introspections Ch. 03



She woke drowsily the next morning and lounged around in bed awhile hoping to avoid him, but eventually she rose, entering the kitchen where she found him at the table reading.

"Good morning sleepyhead," he teased, motioning toward the bar where a bowl and a box of cereal sat. "I've eaten already."

She sat down and began eating, watching him with some suspicion. He moved to stand across from her as she ate. When she finished he began his inquisition again. "You said you had never been touched by a boy Hannah. Define never."

She glanced at him questionably, but decided this was considered a direct order and she was not willing to risk another punishment just yet. "I've never been romantically involved with anyone. A couple years ago there was a guy I'd dated a few times and he tried to put his arm around me. I freaked out and left. Never heard from him again after that."

He raised his eyebrows. "Hannah, when was the last time someone held you? Not sexually motivated, just for the sake of holding you?"

She looked away from him. "I don't remember."

"Give me an estimate. Five years? Ten?"

The girls shook her head. "I mean it, I don't remember. I suppose my parents held me when I was little, but they weren't exactly the most affectionate people around. I didn't care much for physical affection either, even when I was young." 

He moved around the bar toward her, extending his arms. "May I? I promise sweetheart, I will only hold you. Nothing more, and I will stop whenever you want."

Her first instinct was to refuse outright, but she was curious. Closing her eyes, she slowly nodded her head. He gathered her in his arms, carrying her into the living room where he sat in a leather armchair, rocking her encouragingly. "You okay?" he asked, reassured when she nodded her head. 

At first the tension was obvious, but after a few minutes she experimentally laid her head on his chest. He noticed her rapid breathing and after a few minutes felt her trembling. He almost released her then, before he realized she was quietly crying. He was in a quandary, should he put her down or continue holding her? He decided to wait it out and only to release her if she asked him to do so.

He found it rather overwhelming trying to guess at her thoughts. Granted she had cried when waking from the nightmare, but he knew she hadn't when spanked, or even whipped. Abruptly he realized he was viewing raw vulnerability, and he felt almost as though he had been given a gift of great value. He lost track of the time as they sat in silence, her tears finally tapering off.

"Hannah, tell me something. How far did they go trying to break you?" She stiffened noticeably in his arms.

"Please, don't make me," she begged desperately. 

Blinking, he looked down at her, a thought occurring to him. "Okay, not yet. But one more question. You can give me a simple yes or no, but I need an answer. Before they took you were you ever sexually abused?"

She shook her head insistently, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Somehow he sensed helping her recover from more recent events was more likely than helping her overcome trauma that had long since been buried. After a few moments she relaxed again, moving to sit up in his lap.

"You said you wouldn't punish me for asking questions."

He tilted his head, assessing her intent. "I won't punish you, but won't promise that I'll answer you either."

Softly she looked into his eyes. "Will you tell me about your sister?"

He stared at her expressionless. "You're not going to drop this are you?" She shook her head. "Even if I spank you again?" This time she shrugged, but didn't tense up.

He swallowed and ran his thumb across her cheek. Careful control of his emotions had long since been abandoned and while her request was more difficult than she realized he recognized this was as close as they could possibly come to a give and take relationship.

"You remind me of her. Not physically, but she was also annoyingly stubborn." She punched his arm teasingly and he laughed out loud.

"She was my baby sister. Four years younger, and my only sibling. She was a surprise, my parents didn't think they could have another child. A very pleasant surprise." Unconsciously he looked away from her, lost in the memories.

"They died when she was a senior in high school. Car accident, totally unexpected. She was all I had. I left college to come home and take care of her. She was angry, not that anyone could blame her. Got involved with the wrong crowd. Nothing I said was good enough. She died, just over a year ago. And no, I'm not going to tell you how, so drop it now. I mean it."

She made no effort to question him further, simply enjoying the moment. After awhile she quietly whispered, "I'm not your sister."

"I know that Hannah. Thank goodness. I've never had incestuous fantasies." She shifted her body uncomfortably, suddenly aware of the bulge in his pants pressing into her. He was rather surprised she didn't leap off his lap at the realization.

"We need to begin your training Hannah. You're ready. It's time." She stopped to examine her feelings, again confused by a strange, somewhat frightening combination of anticipation and dread. She went with the anticipation.

Unprompted she slid off his lap, kneeling before him with her hands lying palms upraised on her slightly spread thighs, eyes downcast. He drew in a surprised breath, but caught himself quickly and shifted into a dominant role. "Don't slouch."

The girl straightened her back, thrusting out her semi-naked breasts, then smiled up at him coyly. "I'm not as innocent as you think I am."

"I've noticed," he laughed. He stood and moved around her, disappearing into the master bedroom. She maintained her pose. He came back to her, carrying a notebook along with a teeshirt and pair of shorts. 

"I'd like you to journal," he told her, placing the notebook on the coffee table. 

"Why?" she inquired carefully. While she was feeling surprisingly comfortable in the moment she still wasn't sure she wanted to give him open access to her innermost thoughts and feelings.

"Because I think it would help," he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I won't read it. Not without your permission."

Agreeing, she nodded her head and accepted the clothes he handed her, questioning him with her eyes. "I'm not about to do this while you're half naked. You are entirely too distracting." He turned his back, allowing her some semblance of privacy as she dressed.

When she was suitably covered they began, with him leading her through several different positions. She picked up on them quickly, moving through them without hesitation. He watched approvingly as she worked gracefully through each of them in turn. They spent the rest of the morning training. Eventually she began to tire noticeably.

"That's enough. Get some rest. Go find yourself another romance novel. Research, you know?" He grinned down at her teasingly, and she softly smiled back at him.

After he left her he stared blankly at his computer screen, stunned by her compliance and how quickly they were progressing. As for her, she chose not to over analyze her feelings. They were entirely too complicated to understand anyway.

She located another novel on the bookshelf, but somehow fiction wasn't as enthralling as her current reality. Recalling seeing some pens on the kitchen counter she located one, picked up the notebook and began to write.

He found her asleep, curled up on the couch, several hours later. He roused her, encouraging her to eat, and she spent the rest of the day near him, sitting with novel in hand as he worked at his computer in the master bedroom, then next to him on the couch after dinner while they watched a mindless movie neither one was really engaged in. 

After the movie she showered and dressed in a gown as usual, but this time he met her at the bathroom door with a blanket, which he wrapped around her shoulders as he took her by the waist and urged her into the master bedroom. She stopped at the door and glanced sideways at him.

"Nothing happens that you don't want Hannah."

She grimaced. "What if that's what I'm afraid of?"

He laughed openly. "Okay sweetheart, nothing happens at all. I just hold you, that's it. Nothing more." He tucked her in under the covers, lay down on top of them and held her close, sleeping deeply for the first time in over a year.

She, on the other hand, did not sleep at all. When she was certain he was soundly asleep she crawled carefully out of the bed and watched him breathe for a moment then glanced to the nightstand where she'd seen a key ring earlier that day. It was still there. Slinking over to the nightstand she carefully palmed the ring and slipped out of the room. 

Examining it in the safety of the hallway she was relieved to find it contained a remote key fob and a key she hoped was for a vehicle. She walked into the laundry room, eyeing the door she was confident lead to the garage and considering her options. Presuming he was telling the truth and the door was alarmed she knew she had only moments to figure out a plan when the door opened. Putting her hand on the doorknob she yanked the door open, frantically glancing around the garage as the alarm blared. 

Spying the garage door opener mounted nearby she pushed it, slammed the door to the laundry room shut and dashed toward the SUV. Coming up with a plan on the spot she hit the fob and dove into the SUV, but not on the driver's side. He would be expecting that, and she didn't know which way to drive. Instead she bought herself some time by diving into the back seat and hitting the fob again, locking the door and ducking out of sight. 

He came through the door just a moment later, barefoot and wrapped in his robe. Swearing, he rushed toward the open overhead door. Rain had melted much of the snow over the last two days, leaving muddy puddles along the unpaved road, so there was no sign of footprints. He knew she was barefoot and couldn't have gone far, so he went back into the house to grab some boots.

She figured she would wait a few minutes for him to take off looking for her, then drive in the opposite direction. What she didn't figure into her plan was a spare set of car keys.

She dove back to the floor as he unlocked the car door manually. He put the car into reverse and glanced over his shoulder. Unfortunately for her she wasn't down low enough.

Slamming the car into park, he turned it off. "Nice try. You had to know you wouldn't pull it off. Are you going to tell me why you decided now was the time to run?"

"I had to. I'm losing myself."

He drug her out of the back seat roughly. "I don't think you're afraid of loosing yourself. More likely afraid of finding yourself. Don't worry, I'll give you plenty of time to think it over. Downstairs, now."

No resistance was left, she followed him without objection. When he unlocked the basement door she moved toward the bedroom but he stopped her. "No, not there." Instead he led her into a small room. She stepped back and began shaking her head frantically. The room contained two cages, one similar to a dog kennel and the other tall and thin, with standing room only. 

"You don't give me a choice. You know the routine. Strip. You won't freeze, this is the only room down here that gets any heat." 

As if operating on autopilot she drew the gown over her head. He opened the door to the kennel and pointed. "In. Now. If I have to force you I promise it will be much worse, and you know I keep my promises."

Reluctantly she dropped to her knees and climbed backwards into the cage, then looked up at him warily. He pursed his lips as he glared back at her, locking the cage. "Damn it Hannah, you have no idea what you've done. You are going to think. I am going back to bed. When I decide you are ready we have a serious discussion. You stay here until we do." Turning his back on her he flipped off the light, leaving her in complete darkness.



Introspections Ch. 04



The girl drew her coat tighter around herself against the chill in the air. She always walked later in the evening, hoping to clear her mind before going to bed. It rarely worked. The neighborhood was familiar, she knew most of the neighbors by name or face, though there were none she considered friends. She'd settled here after graduation because the rent was cheap, not because she was looking for company.

She felt no concern as she approached the white van with a carpet cleaner logo on the side. It had been there often, presumably one of the neighbor's side business. So it was a complete surprise when a man jumped out of the darkness, pushing her against the vehicle, covering her mouth and yanking the purse off her shoulder.

"Keep quiet bitch!" She knew that voice, but from where? She couldn't place it. Lashing out she struggled, trying desperately to scratch and kick him, but he simply opened the back of the van and shoved her in. She focused on slowing her breaths and worked to formulate a plan, attempting to keep track of the turns or determine the speed at which they were traveling, but it was no use. 

It didn't seem that they had gone far before the van stopped. Tensing, she moved toward the door, hoping to catch the man by surprise. When the door opened she kicked out violently, connecting with something as she dove out of the van, but a set of strong hands grabbed her firmly, one hand around her waist and the other entwined in her hair.

"Hello slut," he growled at her and abruptly she realized why the voice was familiar. No, it couldn't be. She had been so careful, it wasn't supposed to happen this way. Screaming out she struggled against his hold, but stopped as another man approached. She was outnumbered now, her plan would have to change. 

The second man reached toward her face, licking his lips greedily. "She's a nice one, isn't she? Good catch." He grasped her upper arm. She felt the prick of the needle, and within moments all thoughts of a plan slipped away as the darkness took over. 

The light flipped on suddenly, bringing her back to her current situation. She glared at him as he approached the cage. Looking her over, he sighed. "You're not ready to talk yet are you?" He didn't expect a response, her fury was apparent even though she crouched on her hands and knees, and predictably he didn't get one.

He twisted the lid on the water bottle he held in his hands and crouched down in front of her, opening the cage. "Drink," he said, holding the bottle to her lips. She turned her head away. "That's an order Hannah. Don't push it." 

The bitterness in his tone frightened her far more than any threat. Hesitantly she lifted her head, allowing him to pour the water down her throat, closing her mouth when she felt she had consumed enough. "No, all of it." This time there wasn't any hesitation as she drained the bottle. 

"You may think you've seen the worst they can do, but believe me there are things you don't know about the bastard and his crowd. I couldn't let you go if I wanted to. You are a liability, you can't outrun them. They won't kill a valuable piece of property, just ship you off to a brothel in Asia or Europe where you won't be a threat. Think it over Hannah, decide what you really want." He walked out of the room without further comment, again leaving her alone in the dark.

He returned again a couple hours later. "Ready to talk yet?" She glowered at him.

"I need to pee."

He unlocked the door of the cage, allowing her to climb out, and helped her to her feet, taking her arm. He lead her in the direction of the main room and she tried to pull away, fearing another punishment, but that wasn't his intended destination. Instead he directed her into an unfinished bathroom. She moved toward the toilet, confused when she discovered it was not installed.

"Use the shower." His tone didn't leave room for argument. She entered the shower and glared at him again. "I'm not taking my eyes off you, even for a minute. I don't trust you." The nibbling of her lip began, but he simply stood staring at her blankly. Finally she turned her back on him, trying to forget he was there, and crouched down over the drain to relieve herself. As she stood he handed her a tissue and she wiped herself clean, discarding it in a nearby wastebasket. 

"Ready yet?" he inquired, but the humiliation had rekindled her anger. He led her back to the small room, this time directing her into the taller cage. She found there was enough room to turn around, but certainly not enough room to sit down. Lights went out and the door closed. 

After awhile her legs ached and she shook the bars of the cage in frustration, not that it changed her situation in the least. She wanted to lash out at him and scream. She wanted to beg him to hold her. Which was he, savior or captor? She had no idea what she really wanted, how could he expect her to figure it out alone in the dark? 

She was slumped against the cage when he returned a short time later. He had closely observed her through his camera system and he was beginning to grow concerned. "Will you talk now Hannah? Please?"

She didn't look up. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Tell me why you hate yourself."

At that she did look up, scornfully retorting, "Not why I hate you?"

He shook his head sadly. "I know why you hate me. I don't expect that will change any time soon. What I don't understand is this war you are fighting within yourself. There's something you are keeping from me Hannah, I can see it in your eyes."

She swallowed nervously. "Are you going to let me out?"

He nodded slowly. "After you tell me. If you tell me the truth, and I will know."

She closed her eyes, as if blocking him out, and her response came out in a hoarse whisper. "It's my fault they took me."

He leaned against the wall tiredly. "Self blame is normal sweetheart. It's not your fault. It was a random chance, being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She clenched her fists and opened her eyes, seeking his gaze, and the anguish he saw shocked him. "No. It wasn't random. I knew my trainer. Shawn." She spit out his name as though it were a foul word. "I recognized his voice, but it wouldn't have mattered if I didn't. He took pleasure in telling me what a great bonus he got for reeling me in."

Her eyes grew distant, as though she was not looking at him, but rather through him. "I played dangerous games with myself. Quietly, nobody could know. Dark feelings I never shared out loud, until I discovered others shared similar fantasies. Online it was easy to be anonymous, I figured it was safe. I dabbled in porn, lingered in forums, explored the dynamic complexities of submission until finally initiating conversation with an online dominant. I relished the secrecy, got off on the humiliation as he pushed me to carry out increasingly debasing acts.

I liked it. I hated myself for liking it, but I justified it. It wasn't real. I was careful, using a clandestine email. No pictures, no phone numbers, not even real names. I told myself I could stop any time I wanted. It was supposed to just be a game. I never meant for it to become anything more. Never dreamed it would become my reality."

Hearing enough, more than enough, he unlocked the door and gathered her in his arms, nuzzling her hair. "Oh Hannah, my sweet Hannah. It was fantasies, just normal exploration, really it was. You had no way of knowing how easy you would be to trace, what a perfect victim you made. It's them at fault sweetheart, not you. Never you."

She began to sob and he held her tightly, supporting her weight in his arms. "That's it, let it go. You are stronger than you know Hannah. Stronger than you could ever imagine. You will get through this, I promise. I will help you."

Finally she stopped and he scooped her up, carrying her out of the basement. Strangely she wasn't too far gone to notice the lock on the basement door had been removed. When they got upstairs he paused and looked down at her. "Bath first or straight to bed sweetheart?"

"Bath please," she murmured quietly and he carried her into the bathroom, cradling her on his lap as the tub filled. She made no objections when he picked up the soap, allowing him to wash her, groaning in relief as he gently massaged her aching muscles. 

She was nearly asleep before the water drained. He toweled her out dry and she was out completely as soon as her head hit the pillow on his bed. He didn't lay next to her this time, not sure he trusted himself with a naked, sleeping girl in his arms. Instead he simply sat and watched her breathe, until he was certain she would sleep without dreams.

When she awoke she glanced around the master bedroom, drowsily climbing out of the bed. She wandered over to the walk in closet and rummaged around looking for clothes. Not finding where he kept the ones he had been giving her she helped herself instead to one of his larger tee shirts. It hung loosely on her tiny frame. Taking a deep breath she opened the door and padded into the kitchen. 

He sat at the table, his back to her, but turned when she cleared her throat. She eyed him nervously, wondering if by dressing herself she had earned another punishment. He stood calmly, grabbing a plate from the fridge and setting it on the table. "Your clothes are in the dresser," he offered without malice as he turned back to the tattered file he had been flipping through. 

Approaching the table she sat beside him and ate the sandwich slowly, finally pushing the plate away and waiting expectantly for further interrogation. Instead he pushed a paper toward her. Glancing down she found it to be a portrait of a young girl, a brunette with a gaunt face and dark green eyes that somehow seemed haunted.

"Her name was Sarah," he said quietly. "I told you she hung out with the wrong crowd. Drugs, sex, anything to drowned out the pain of loosing our parents too soon. One day we argued, she left angry and didn't come home. I hit her usual party joints but I couldn't find her. I kept pressuring her so-called friends for days until finally I got the same name from several of them."

His voice filled with anger. "I held a gun to his head. He was a fool, afraid at first to tell me anything, but he knew I would gladly pull the trigger. He was just a pawn in their game, but he gave me enough to start working my way up their ladder to the top. I finally had the information I needed, but it didn't get me anywhere. That bastard's place is a fortress, nobody gets in without an invitation. I couldn't come up with enough proof to force the authorities to act on it. I suspect the local authorities, at least some of them, are in on it anyway. One way or another the pawn ended up dead in a ditch."

He looked up at her in surprise as she reached for his hand. "I knew she was in there, a few well placed bribes confirmed it, but I couldn't do anything Hannah. Not a damned thing. I watched and waited for months, until one of the informants whose palms I kept greased told me she was going to auction. I couldn't go, wouldn't have been able to sit there calmly bidding on my sister, so I sent someone in my stead. I bought her back from them, paid cash to the monsters who had raped and tortured my sister. Human lives mean nothing to them. It's all about money and power."

He stopped as if he didn't intend to go on. She feared asking, not sure if she wanted to know the answer, but finally prompted, "How did she die?"

He wiped an eye, blinking away tears. Somehow that scared her even more. "They broke her. She was stubborn, vibrant and voracious, throwing herself into life with a passion up until our parents' death. I didn't think it was possible, but I was wrong. By the time I got her home she was nothing more than a shell of the person she once was. She wouldn't talk to me, but she journaled. I got her the best professional help possible, we all thought she was making progress. A couple months later I walked into the bathroom and found her. She'd downed two bottles of her medication, washed it down with vodka, and slit her wrists."

They sat in silence for awhile, neither one of them sure what was left to say. The girl broke the silence first. "I doubt my family is even looking for me. They probably think I vanished on purpose. We were never close."

He flipped through the file again, withdrawing a flier and setting it in front of her. Her picture was featured prominently at the top, underneath it was a banner offering a $25,000 reward. "They papered the town with them. Your hometown as well, and it's all over the Internet. One reason you are such a huge liability. They certainly didn't think your family would cause such a fuss. I'm still rather surprised they agreed to sell you, untrained, to a new owner. He didn't anticipate me agreeing to his asking price up front. They're watching both of us closely, you know. They call almost daily, demanding updates on your progress. Of course I won't be telling them about last night. They can't ever know you tried to run, or they'd reclaim you in an instant."

"They'd really ship me to Asia?" she asked him nervously.

"In a heartbeat," he confirmed.

"I don't suppose they'd settle for twenty-five thousand dollars?"

He chuckled. "My sweet Hannah, with them that kind of money buys nothing more than a bucket of water and a few rags. You have no idea what you are worth."

"You didn't buy a slave just to free me, did you? You're obviously looking for revenge, you must have a plan." 

He nodded. "I'm going to bring him down. Bring all of them down if I can manage it."

She looked at him askance, "You weren't going to tell me. I'm just a means to an end."

He smiled at her guiltily. "I didn't intend to. Getting emotionally involved definitely was not part of the plan. You, my sweet Hannah, are a frustrating, dangerous and entirely too endearing distraction."

She leaned her head against the palm of her hand, not sure if she had been complimented or insulted, before asking her final question. "She liked the scent of strawberries, didn't she?"

Surprised at the seemingly random question he glanced at her curiously before nodding his head. 

"I prefer lavender," she declared.

"Duly noted," he responded at last.

She spent the rest of the night journal in hand, while he continued working his way through the file, reviewing his copious collection of notes. As the clock struck midnight he approached her with a glass of water and two small pills in hand. "Your sleep cycle is probably screwed up after that nap and you need to rest."

She rolled her eyes as she reached for the pills. "You mean you still don't trust me not to run."

"Not entirely," he confessed.

She looked at him, carefully evaluating his mood, before responding. "We'll bring the bastard down James, but we'll do it together. Deal?"

"Deal." He reached out his hand as if to shake hers, but when she grasped it instead pulled her to her feet and suddenly into his arms. "Your bed or mine sweetheart?"

"Yours. But no touching," she insisted firmly. He deposited her by the bedside. 

"Should I change?" She glanced toward the drawers.

"Nope. That shirt looks good on you. Though you look even better without it," he hinted.

"No touching," she reminded scoldingly as she burrowed under the covers.

"No ma'am," he responded as he stripped to his sweatpants and climbed into bed beside her, carefully drawing her into his arms. "Oops, does this count as touching? I'm afraid I don't follow orders very well.

Her content sigh was his only response, and finally they both slept soundly.



Introspections Ch. 05



She awoke suddenly, noting automatically he wasn't in bed with her any longer. The shower running in the master bathroom clued her in to his whereabouts and she wandered toward the open door. "Good morning," she called out. The water turned off. 

"I'll be out in a moment. Go ahead and get dressed, unless you'd like to join me." Not waiting for a response, he turned the water on again.

When he came out of the bathroom wrapped in his robe she was standing next to the dresser, fully dressed and glaring at him accusingly. "What did I do now? I was only joking!"

"It's not that. You had underwear in there." She put her hands on her hips and he struggled to remain straight faced.

"I know I did. In several sizes. They were all for you though, I swear. I didn't know what size you would be. So I'm in trouble for buying you underwear? They're not even all that sexy." 

She stared at him pointedly, as if he should be following her train of thought without effort. "No, you're in trouble for never giving it to me."

He couldn't hold back his laugh in time. "Did you expect me to? It was just one more thing to cut off your body if you forced me to strip you naked. You have open access to it now, and you can wear it whenever you want, okay? I promise I won't even cut it off you, at least without getting permission in advance. Forgiven, please?"

"Not yet." But she, too, was holding back a smile now.

"You brat. You may as well make breakfast while I get dressed." She didn't leave the room as he'd expected. 

"What? You want to pick out my underwear? I'll let you," he dared.

She sighed, exasperated with his teasing. "I don't cook. I reheat. Can barely boil water."

He turned away from her, reaching into a drawer to pull out some boxers. "Figures. I pay a quarter million dollars for a slave who can't even cook. Oh well, you can make it up to me later. There's plenty of cold cereal in the pantry."

When he turned around again she was staring at him, stunned. "A quarter million dollars?"

"Yes Hannah, I paid him a quarter million dollars. Just over that, actually. You were worth every penny, even if you can't cook. I actually enjoy cooking, I think we can manage. Bowls are in the top cupboard, next to the sink."

"Where the hell did you get a quarter million dollars?"

"Seriously Hannah? Can we have this discussion over breakfast? I'm dripping on the carpet here."

She spun around and stomped out of the room, leaving him shaking his head in confusion. Every time he thought he was starting to understand her she surprised him. He wondered if letting her call him by name had been a mistake, though he had nearly melted when she did. He yanked a shirt from its hanger and began to dress.

When he came into the kitchen she was seated at the table in his usual seat, naturally. He ignored her subtle defiance, pointedly sitting down in her usual chair and calmly pouring himself a bowl of cereal. "Well?" she demanded expectantly as she handed him the milk.

"If you must know my parents were both only children who came from money, and my dad was a big shot corporate lawyer in a multimillion dollar company on top of that. With Sarah gone I inherited it all. I've made a few wise investments, and I'm living well below my means. A quarter million dollars wasn't petty cash, but it wasn't a hardship either. Like I said, you are worth it Hannah, if you happen to be the type to think an individual's worth can be measured in dollars. I'm not that type. Are you going to hate me because I'm rich?"

"I don't hate you," she said, suitably appeased.

"As pleasant as that is to hear, you probably will again by the end of the day. Will you please eat so we can get started?"

That drew her back into reality, and they both finished their breakfast in silence before moving into the living room, where he sat on the couch and motioned for her to kneel on the floor in front of him. He started off by taking her through her positions again, relieved to find she still knew them all perfectly.

"Good. Time for some rules. Rule number one, when I give you a command you obey the first time, every time, without hesitation. Is that clear?" She nodded, not at all surprised at this expectation.

"This is important Hannah. If you even hesitate in front of them I'll have to punish you then and there, and I really don't want to have to do that."

"I know, I get it. After all, if you spank me in front of them I'll have to kill you later, and I really don't want to do that. What's next?"

He swatted at her. "Cut it out you minx, this is supposed to be serious. When in the presence of others you must always refer to me as Master, and them as Sir. This is an exclusively male run organization with a leader who delights in viewing women as less than men so you won't need to worry about mistresses."

"That's a relief, I suppose. I am decidedly not bisexual. Next rule please, Master?"

"We'll limit it to three rules to keep it as simple as possible. You stay right behind me, slightly to my left, within arms reach at all times for your own safety. Eyes down, ears open, mouth shut. Think you can manage that?"

"Believe it or not I can keep my mouth shut when my life depends on it. That I have practiced. Is that all, Master?" She was trying to keep things lighthearted, but he could tell she recognized how vital the rules were for both of them.

"That's all of them. Now you recite them back to me until you can tell me every one, word for word, in any order."

He was pleased to find she really was a quick learner, and she soon had them all down. He ran her through positions again, then glanced at her somewhat nervously.

"I suppose if you've never been romantically involved with a guy you've never seen one naked before. Unless they..." he died off, not really wanting to ask.

"Not except in porn. Not even them, thankfully. They kept me naked but stayed fully clothed themselves, probably as yet another form of dominance. I guess it's about time, right? We can hardly have me fainting in shock in front of them. Does this mean I get to order you to strip?"

He smacked her on the cheek lightly. "Just this once, you vixen. Can't have you topping from the bottom in their presence. Male dominants only, remember." She seemed totally at ease, and he felt surprisingly self-conscious. 

"Come on, get it over with. You only have a few hundred pornographic images to be compared with after all. Besides, you've already slept next to me half naked, I know you have decent set of abs."

He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal those abs, tossing it over the back of the couch, then figuring he'd get it over with quickly he shimmied out of both his jeans and his boxers at once. He wasn't particularly small, but he didn't consider himself well hung at about six inches half mast and if he was entirely honest he hadn't stood naked in front of all that many women awaiting a critique. 

"Nice cock," she announced rather glibly, but he noticed she was blushing. With him standing up and her still on her knees, she definitely had a decent view. "I suppose you want me to suck it." 

His cock hardened noticeably at the suggestion. "They'll probably expect a show of some sort, but we don't have to try it now. You don't have to like it, or even pretend to like it. It will probably actually look more submissive if you obviously don't."

"We may as well start now. Apparently practice makes perfect. I can't comment on my technique. It's probably not as easy as it sounds in books."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine. It's really not that complicated, just suck and swallow. No need to deep throat on your first try. Just let me lead. Go ahead." He was fully erect now.

Hesitantly she took the tip in her mouth, running her tongue around it. He gently wrapped a hand in her hair and guided her deeper. She carefully sheathed her teeth and began bobbing up and down about half his length, exploring him with her tongue, experimentally humming softly."

He moaned in pleasure. "Damn it girl! What books have you been reading? Those romance novels must be racier than I thought. Can I go deeper?"

She nodded and he pulled her toward him deeper until she gagged, then quickly withdrew most of the way. "You doing okay?" She nodded again, looking up at him, and when she met his gaze he nearly came on the spot.

"Whoa there sweetheart, I am close. It's less messy if you swallow, but you don't have to. At least not this time." She responded by running her tongue around the tip again and tightening her lips around his shaft. He came suddenly, and she managed to swallow most of it, only spitting out the last mouthful. 

"Good girl". He drew her to her feet and guided her to the bathroom, where he washed her face with a washcloth and offered her a toothbrush. "Are you really okay? Can't say I've ever tried it, but I imagine the taste is not all that pleasant."

She rinsed her mouth. "It's certainly not my favorite, but I think I'll manage. Can you get dressed now?"

"You mean you don't intend to keep me naked all day? I wouldn't mind."

She shook her head and tossed a towel at him. "You can cover up, I think I've seen enough for now."

When she emerged from the bathroom he was fully dressed again. "I hate to leave you, but I really have to go to town and I don't dare take you with me. If you swear you won't run I won't lock you in the basement."

She sighed. "As much as I'd like to explore your playroom, I'd rather not be locked away. I promise not to run, at least not without you along as protection."

He smiled. "You're more than welcome to explore my collection in the playroom, but don't get carried away with the toys. Rule number four, still no coming without permission. It's a couple hours to town and back so I probably won't make it home for dinner. Feel free to reheat anything you find in the kitchen."

He glanced over his shoulder as he entered the laundry room, and found her still looking at him. "Goodbye for now sweetheart. Try to stay out of trouble. I'll see you soon."

Alone in the house for the first time she considered her options. Gazing out the front window she noted track marks in the muddy road indicating the direction he had taken and she momentarily considered breaking her promise. Being fully dressed, with warmer weather and the snow partially melted, significantly increased her odds of reaching civilization and calling for help before he even realized she was missing. After all, she had only his word that anything he had told her was true. 

She was realistic enough to realize it was possibly an elaborate hoax intended to manipulate her into giving him her unquestioning trust. That being said, she also realized if that was the case leaving her unsecured could be a carefully designed trap to determine if he could trust her to stay put. 

On the other hand, it could all be the truth, and running now could move her from a tolerable situation into one much worse. The pit he had found her in was bad enough, but the one thing she knew she could count on unquestionably was additional torture at the hands of her trainer and the bastard if she was recaptured by his organization. The thought made her stomach churn and trying to evaluate potential motives was making her head spin. 

Besides, if she was completely honest with herself she was enthralled by the unfamiliar feelings she was experiencing and unsure about how she felt in regards to simply returning to her monotonous former life. Furthermore, if there was any truth to his claims there was also possibility of revenge against her former captors, and potential for assisting the other girls who remained in their captivity.

Eventually she decided against making another break for it, at least for the time being. Hopefully if she changed her mind later on her further cooperation would ensure additional opportunities for escape. 

With that decision made, her second thought was discovering what other secrets his tattered file folder held. She searched the kitchen and living room for it, but it was nowhere to be found. The next likely location was his desk, so she headed to the master bedroom. 

His desk was annoyingly tidy, she was beginning to think he had an obsession for orderliness and control. Under the desk was a likely looking file cabinet, but it was locked with no sign of a key. That plan abandoned she turned her attention toward the computer.

The screen saver came up automatically when she moved the mouse, but of course it was password protected. Though she was aware of the high probability of earning herself a punishment, she made several guesses including multiple variations of the name Sarah. No luck, but it also didn't lock her out so she figured her prying would go safely unnoticed.

Her explorations had killed less than an hour, so she dug through the pantry to find something to eat. It occurred to her that simply deciding for herself when and what to eat was now considered a privilege, and she winced at the thought. How quickly her perceptions of privilege and rights had been transformed! 

On the top shelf she discovered a couple chocolate bars, and she grinned. The situation could not be completely hopeless if there was chocolate to be found. 

Grabbing one of the bars she settled on the couch with the TV remote, flipping through stations randomly. She came across a local news station for Denver, so at least that much of what he told her was true. It didn't seem she had missed any significant news stories or major world events, but it was a relief simply to know the rest of the world still existed. 

She mischievously considered pulling up a pay-per-view porn flick, but found she couldn't predict his response and decided it wasn't worth the risk. Instead she found an old romantic comedy. It was nice to loose herself in somebody else's imaginary life for awhile. 

As the show ended she found she was hungry, so she pulled some leftovers out of the fridge to reheat. She hadn't been kidding when she told him she couldn't help with the cooking, but she could help with cleaning so she washed the few dishes in the sink and wiped down the counters. Of course since he was obsessively tidy that task didn't take long at all.

By now she was positively bored. She moved to the stairs hesitantly, unsure of her willingness to find out what other potential tools of torment and torture he had in his collection. Finally her curiosity won out and she moved down the stairs through the unlocked basement door and into his so-called playroom. 

His sense of order carried over to his toy collection, the drawers contained carefully sorted collections of restraints, gags, vibrators, and anal plugs. Most of it was easily identifiable after her exploratory porn sessions, but there were a few items she wasn't sure about and she wondered if she would ever work up the courage to ask him about them.

Moving to the wall she considered the tools mounted there. She passed quickly over the whips, but her eyes lingered for a moment on a variety of paddles before settling on a flogger. Remembering his threat to experiment with one she hesitantly extended her hand and ran her fingers through the soft strands. She closed her eyes and imagined him running it teasingly over her body, wondering if it would sting pleasantly or burn painfully if he thrashed her with it.

"Why are you still dressed?" She jumped with fright, lost in her own thoughts she hadn't heard his footsteps, though he didn't intend to sneak up on her. She looked at him guiltily.

"You said I could be down here," she reminded him.

"I know I did. I also made it clear that down here you stay naked, so why are you still dressed?" His tone was serious, but meeting his gaze she discovered a teasing twinkle in his eyes. She considered apologizing and darting for the stairs, but decided to play along instead.

Maintaining his gaze she slowly drew the teeshirt she was wearing over her shoulders, pausing before drawing it over her head to give him ample time to drop his gaze to her breasts. Tossing the shirt aside she ran her fingers teasingly downward toward her waist. He raised his brows in approval and she smirked at him. She had never tried a strip tease before, and found she liked the sense of control it gave her.

The jeans she'd found in the dresser were a tight fit, so after unzipping them it took a bit more effort to slip them off them and her movements weren't quite as graceful. He didn't seem to mind. Finally she kicked them aside. 

She now stood before him wearing only the pale pink low cut panties she had chosen from the underwear drawer that morning. They were a conservative selection, but he still found them enticingly sexy. Reclaiming his gaze she carefully reached up and clasped her hands together behind her head, then stood waiting for his response.

"Hannah sweetheart, you are a merciless tease and a natural slut, though I mean that in the nicest way possible. I can't imagine how you've maintained your virginity this long without driving the men around you absolutely mad. Are you going to make me cut that underwear off you?"

She shook her head. "No need to ruin them, I couldn't find where you hide the scissors anyway. But if you want them off you're going to have to take them off yourself."

He took that as the dare it was intended to be and made his way rapidly across the room. Moving behind her he grasped her around the waist with one arm, using his free hand to slowly draw the underwear down around her ankles. When he released her she cautiously stepped out of them. He turned her to face him, tucking a finger under her chin and lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Do you trust me Hannah?"

"Not completely," she admitted.

"I love your honesty sweetheart. Are you willing to let me play with you anyway? If you want me to I'll drop it and walk away right now."

She looked away bashfully, but gave him the answer he was hoping for. "No, don't. I want to play."

Without giving her a chance to change her mind he scooped her up and deposited her on the adapted dining room table, carefully affixing straps around her wrists and ankles. "Let me know if they get too tight," he warned.

He moved across the room, running his fingers over several tools before reaching the flogger he'd caught her caressing. Standing over her he smiled wickedly, running it over her torso. "Did you think I didn't notice?" 

She tugged on her straps experimentally, finding herself securely fastened. If he didn't want to stop she certainly wasn't going to be able to escape him now.

"Tell me Hannah, did you find anything interesting in my desk?"

Her eyes grew wide and she tested the restraints again, more urgently this time. "How did you know?"

He chuckled. "I didn't, but I do now."

She cringed. "Relax Hannah. I expected your curiosity. I'm not about to leave anything sitting around I don't want you to have access to. This is play, not punishment."

She eyed him doubtfully. "Shouldn't we have safe words or something?"

He leaned over her, gently cupping a hand around one breast. "You're a slave sweetheart, at least you're playing the role. I'm not giving you a safe word. You're going to have to trust me. I won't push you past your limits, as long as you keep your eyes on me I can read you like an open book. I know you well enough to understand if you can stop this and don't you're going to beat yourself up for liking it. This way you have no choice but to let me be in control of your pleasure."

With that reassurance he lifted the flogger and softly brought it down on her breasts. When that drew no response he struck her stomach with a slightly heavier blow. A few more strikes to her breasts finally brought a breathless sigh. He alternated between breasts, stomach and the inside of her thighs, always carefully watching her response. Teasing, he drew the flogger between her legs. "I wonder what would happen if I strike you here!" 




Introspections Ch. 05



The stroke on her pussy was barely hard enough to count, but even so she groaned. Encouraged, he added a bit more strength and for the first time she closed her eyes. "Eyes on me sweetheart," he reminded her, not striking again until he felt her gaze. He taunted and teased, noting the strokes to her pussy brought the greatest response. After flogging her softly for several minutes he lay the toy gently across her stomach and slipped a hand between her legs, thrilled to find her quite wet.

"I see someone is enjoying herself." He grasped a breast in each hand, squeezing them gently and rubbing his fingers over her nipples as they hardened, drawing another deep groan. Finally he circled her clit gently with his thumb and she pushed her pelvis against his hand whimpering helplessly. He alternated between gently stroking her clit and slipping a single finger into her tight cavity to stroke her sweet spot until her deepening breathing warned him she was close.

"Not without permission sweetheart, you have to ask me." She held back, resisting the urge to beg, but the sensations were too much.

"Please..." 

"Please stop? Make sure you tell me what you need sweetheart."

It didn't take any more prompting. "Please Master, may I cum?"

The use of a formal title caught him by surprise. "Good girl Hannah, go ahead and cum for me." Her pussy jerked around his finger as she finally orgasmed and she lay panting on the table as he wet a cloth with warm water and gently wiped her clean.

Unstrapping her bonds he helped her sit up. "I told you sweetheart, you're a natural slut. I'm not going to ask if you enjoyed yourself. Journal about it, maybe you'll let me read it someday." She was relieved, not sure she could find words in the moment for an appropriate response. 

"I picked up a present for you in town. A couple of them actually." Reaching in his pocket he withdrew a blue velvet box and she eyed it suspiciously. He read her mind, assuring her it wasn't a ring. Instead he withdrew a necklace. It was a thin golden chain on which hung a small diamond studded heart. Asking permission with his eyes and receiving a slight nod in response, he gently fastened it around her neck and she fingered the charm. 

"As much as I like you decorated with nothing more than a necklace it's chilly down here. We'd best head upstairs, you can get dressed again if you want. She slipped off the table and retrieved her clothes while he hung up the flogger. 

When they got to the top of the stairs he took her by the elbow, drawing her into the laundry room. "Your other surprise is in the garage."

Confused, she looked at him, finally finding her words. "You didn't get me a car did you?"

He laughed, "Not a chance. I'm not planning on giving you keys any time soon. Besides, this surprise didn't cost me anything." Opening the door he picked up a small animal carrier and set it on the counter.

That got an eager reaction, she slipped up beside him and carefully opened the door, lifting out a rather scraggly looking brown tabby cat. Cradling it in her arms she stroked it gently under the neck.

"She's nothing fancy, just a stray. My friend trapped her and was going to take her to the shelter, I figured I would save him the trip. He says she is skittish, but affectionate, so I figured the two of you would get along well enough."

"She's perfect. You apparently have a habit of rescuing strays. How did you know I liked cats?"

"Lucky guess?" She looked at him suspiciously. "Okay, I viewed your Facebook page. I don't think I've ever seen so many pictures of fluffy kittens in one place."

"You read my Facebook page?" Thankfully she seemed amused rather than upset, he figured the cat in her arms had bought him some leniency.

He nodded. "Your blog too," he confessed. 

"How much of it? I've posted regularly since I graduated from high school. I don't think anyone's actually read it, except maybe my mom."

"Every post. I was trying to figure out what you've been thinking. Believe me, I need all the help I can get. Are you going to name that hair ball?" A change of subject seemed prudent.

She shrugged. "My cats tend to name themselves, though it's been awhile since I've had one. I suppose she's okay inside?"

"I figured you'd want her to be. There's a litter box and food in the car. I'm more of a dog person myself, so my only condition is she sleeps on your bed." He headed toward the master bedroom in desperate need of a cold shower.

A few hours later the cat was asleep, curled up in his favorite chair, the girl curled up asleep on the couch. He considered covering her and leaving her there for the night but couldn't talk himself into it. She stirred, but didn't wake as he tucked her in bed and slid in beside her.



Introspections Ch. 06



She beat him out of bed the next morning and when he emerged from the bedroom he found her balanced precariously on a bar stool trying to coax the cat down from its perch atop the kitchen cupboards. 

"Hannah!" he cried out and she startled, loosing her balance. He caught her just in time to break her fall and he shook his head at her disapprovingly. "I should have known the two of you would be nothing but trouble." The cat's ears perked up and the girl squirmed her way out of his arms.

"That may just do it. Come here Trouble, come on down you silly kitty." To his surprise, after giving him a disdainful glance the cat leapt from its perch to the counter, overturning a potted plant in the process. He sighed, spotting a bowl of cat food by the patio doors.

"I see you've made the cat breakfast but not me."

"I'm tired of cold cereal, figured I'd wait for you to cook something." She intentionally brushed dirt from the counter onto the floor.

"Are you trying to annoy me on purpose?" 

She grinned, "Is it working?"

"You're very effective," he admitted, wondering if he should take her over his knee before she became any naughtier. He decided to hold off until he had a better idea of her intent. 

"Good to know." Satisfied she headed to the pantry where she retrieved a broom to clean up the mess while he pulled eggs out of the fridge to prepare a simple omelette. After eating she rose to clear the table and began washing the dishes without being asked, leaving him to wonder if he had passed some type of pop quiz. 

The cat sat expectantly in front of the patio doors and the girl turned to address him. "Can she go out?"

"Sure, give me a minute and I'll disarm the alarm."

He did so and when he returned to the room the doors were open with no sign of the cat. The girl was standing looking at the sunny deck longingly. "Can I? I haven't been outside for weeks."

He felt a moment of sadness, followed by anger realizing that in many ways his home was nothing more than a gilded cage. At that moment he wished desperately he could give her the freedom she obviously craved. 

"You're welcome to go out. It's still cold out there even in the sun, so borrow my jacket. I'm sorry I didn't think to get you one. There are some boots that hopefully will fit okay. You can wander, but stay in sight of the house. I'll leave the alarm off, come find me when you come in so I can reset it. At this point I'm less concerned about you getting out than I am by the possibility of uninvited company coming in."

Breathing in the crisp outside air was refreshing, and the sun on her face felt wonderful. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her evening strolls, but wondered if she would ever truly feel safe again walking down a quiet neighborhood street. Maybe when this all was over she'd get a dog to keep Trouble company. A big, scary looking dog. Feeling safe enough to think about a possible future without captivity was reassuring, even though she realized it wasn't likely going to happen any time soon. 

Mindful to keep the house in sight she wandered toward a grove of trees. She saw signs of deer, tracks and scat on the snow. Trouble was nowhere to be found. She brushed the dusting of snow off a tree trunk and sat down, his jacket was long enough to easily draw under her to keep her sweatpants dry. Drawing in a deep breath, she allowed herself a moment to wonder what had become of her prior life, the life she'd carefully made for herself after graduating from college a couple years earlier. 

After finishing her undergraduate degree she had debated about going further with her education, but had found she no longer had interest in studying. She'd stayed in the small college town out of lack of desire to decide where else to go. Returning to her hometown to be near her family had never been considered. 

Working with people on a day to day basis had taken too much effort so aside from a few temporary office positions she'd focused on things she could do from home, the most common being medical transcriptions. The pay was crummy, but she managed to cover the rent on her tiny studio apartment along with her other basic needs. 

She wasn't a sentimental person so there wasn't really anything she actually missed. Her lease had been month to month so she presumed her few belongings had been packed away, likely shipped to her parents. She'd been surprised, shocked actually, to learn they had cared about her disappearance. While studying she had gone home during breaks, mainly out of a sense of obligation since her parents paid her tuition. After graduating she'd sent cards on birthdays and holidays and spent them at home alone.  

Reminiscing wasn't helping, and she found herself questioning what appeal a future of freedom actually held. Back to the routine of mindless work to pay the bills, lonely evenings spent wandering the streets to escape the haunting dreams. The monotony broken only by her online dalliance with the sadistic creep who had eventually betrayed her. 

The mood in the quiet clearing had been ruined and her vacillating thoughts and feelings were bound to drive her insane if she focused on them too long. Besides, the chill had settled in. She walked back to the house, almost eager to continue training. Trouble was sitting by the double doors waiting to be let in. 

After kicking off the boots and hanging the jacket up to dry she headed toward the master bedroom, finding the door closed. She could hear his voice through the door and realized he was on the phone. She was trying to decide if she should knock, but before she made up her mind she heard him curse, followed by a loud thump she correctly presumed was him hitting the wall. Taking a risk she opened the door herself, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

"It was him, wasn't it?"

He grimly looked up at her. "One of his lackeys. Looks like the alarm isn't going to keep out unwelcome visitors after all. He said he happens to be coming our way a couple days from now and he'd like to stop in and see how things are coming along. He even had the audacity to invite himself to spend the night. Nobody happens to be this far out of town, they suspect something. It's far too soon, you're not even close to ready for this. But I can't refuse."

"Then we'll get ready. I can do this. What's it going to take?"

Her determination pleased him, though he still had his doubts. 

"You're not going to like it." 

She stared him down and he decided to push her, find out how much she could really take under pressure. He hated himself before giving the order, wondered if she would eventually forgive him. Desperate times, desperate measures he reminded himself firmly.

"Fine. Strip, right here. Lay on the bed, spread your legs and show me how you finger fuck yourself. Don't stop until you cum."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her racing mind.

"That's an order Hannah. No hesitation. Unless you want me to take you downstairs, punish you and then do it myself."

Even accompanied by punishment that option sounded significantly more appealing than what he was a asking her to do, but she knew they didn't have time for her to fight him needlessly. Compliance was the only option if they were to achieve their mutual goal. Without further hesitation she yanked off the sweats she was wearing and threw herself down on the bed, reluctantly spreading her legs.

Slowly she slid her fingers downward. She had never pleasured herself in front of someone else, never even considered the possibility. Her initial attempts were awkward and forced and she closed her eyes trying to escape from the feelings of embarrassment and nervousness.

"Eyes open, please," he requested. She took it as an order and opened them again, though she still stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. She carefully slipped a finger inside herself and stroked her tight corridor gently, trying to coax herself into some response, but her efforts were futile. She simply couldn't force herself to respond on demand.

He wasn't surprised at her hesitance, but he was concerned. Their visitor would expect at least some cursory example of her responsiveness. "I changed my mind. I want you to close your eyes and pretend that I'm not here. You know your body Hannah, you've had plenty of practice. Do what comes naturally, whatever makes you feel good. You can do this, I know you can."

With her eyes tightly closed it was easier and she carefully spread her lips open and softly rubbed her clit with her index finger. 

"Better, but still not enough. When you were alone in your bedroom fantasizing about meeting your online dominant's commands what turned you on? Tell me girl, without overthinking it, or I swear I will hack into your clandestine email and read every message."

Though it was an empty threat as he couldn't possibly know her secret email address without her giving him the information, simply the thought of the possibility was enough to get her attention and drew an immediate response.

"He used to send me audio clips, talking dirty and calling me names. He'd order me to go out in public without underwear or walk around the house naked."

"I'll give you plenty of experience walking around naked. No more clothes until after his visit. Now play with yourself like you mean it slut. Show me what a naughty little whore you can be."

He kept his tone carefully expressionless but he was nearly as uncomfortable with the situation as she was. He had to follow through with this though, the thought of them doubting his ability to train her sufficiently and thus reclaiming her terrified him. He couldn't possibly loose her, not now.

The taunts appeared to be working, now she was satisfactorily wet. "That's it girl, rub that clit. Such a dirty little show you are putting on for your master. Keep those legs spread and don't you dare stop, but you do not have permission to cum without asking."

She started to whimper, keeping her legs apart was definitely taking some effort now and she trembled slightly. "Don't even consider stopping, you are going to open your eyes and meet my gaze."

She did so and the intensity of emotions in her eyes, a combination of shame and arousal, nearly overwhelmed him. Her eyes glazed over as she drew closer to her release.

"Ask me, remember rule number four. No coming without permission unless you want me to punish that horny little cunt."

The thought of a well deserved punishment drew her even closer to the edge and she stammered a request. "Please, Master! May I please cum?"

"Not quite yet, I'm not convinced you want it enough."

It wasn't quite an order to beg, but now caught up far enough in her desperation that self consciousness had drifted away she did so willingly, wriggling around on the bed begging with breathless whimpers as she struggled to keep her legs apart. Finally he gave permission.

"That's it, there's that inner slut of yours. Cum for me Hannah, now!"

She wasn't quite in control enough yet to yield instantly to his command but it took only a few moments more for her to climax. Her orgasm wasn't nearly as intense as the one he had drawn out of her, but it still was satisfactory for both of them.

"Good girl. You could use more practice, but it will do for now."

He sat down on the bed next to her and pulled her toward him. Having an attractive, naked and recently sated girl in his arms had a predictable result, and he shifted uncomfortably beneath her. 

To distract himself he slipped one hand between her legs. She looked at him wide eyed, but didn't object when he slid a thick finger into her. With her tender passage now well lubricated there was no discomfort, and he slid further into her until he finally reached her barrier.

"You know we're either going to have to fix this problem or come up with one hell of a cover story. Lying about your virginity or lack thereof is far too great a risk."

She pulled away from his hand as much as he would allow, and her response was firm. "You'd better get to work on that cover story."

He hadn't really expected her consent and really hadn't wanted to get it under the circumstances, but couldn't help but experience a hint of regret. 

"When I tell him you're still a virgin he is likely to demand confirmation. Are you really going to be able to stand there and allow him access like you allowed me? Though I'll do my best to prevent him from taking advantage of the situation I can't predict how far he will attempt to go. We're both going to have to maintain our control. I suspect breaking his neck would be frowned upon."

His acknowledgement of his own territorial nature calmed her, but she recognized he was not making any promises and correctly came to the conclusion he had some doubts about his ability to protect her from harm. She attempted to reassure herself as well as him.

"I imagine he will show some level of restraint as long as the potential for having his neck broken exists. I can't say I look forward to a stranger feeling me up against my will, but it's happened before and I survived."

That was a stark reminder of the fact that she hadn't escaped manhandling from her trainer, and he sincerely hoped he would someday come across the man in a dark alley, preferably while armed with a very sharp knife. He rather thought he would enjoy castrating the individual who had left lashes across her back.

"How are you feeling? Up for more, or would you prefer to take a break and have some lunch?"

She was still rather lightheaded, and the conversation had wiped out what little appetite she had. "We may as well keep going awhile." 

He deposited her on the couch in the living room and ordered her to stay put while he retrieved some supplies from the basement playroom. Returning to the room he dropped a realistic looking silicone dildo mounted on a suction cup in her lap. 

"Time to work on that gag reflex. I expect fifteen minutes of good effort. Get it nice and wet, then see how deep you can take it."

He set a kitchen timer and casually watched her efforts as he pulled out ingredients for sandwiches. She hadn't had excess funds to spend on sex toys, a fact which she was momentarily grateful for as she wasn't sure who had packed her belongings. She experimented curiously with the toy, wondering when he would expect her to put her skills to the test on the real thing. 

When the timer went off he retrieved the saliva-lubricated dildo and mounted it on one of the lower kitchen cupboards. "On your knees now, no hands. Convince me you've earned your supper."

It was harder to work the toy into her throat from this position, especially without the use of hands, but she managed to get most of the length into her mouth. She gagged several times, but kept working at it until he was satisfied. "You're a natural, how did I get so lucky? Lunch is ready, come and eat."

She wiped the drool from her chin with the back of her hand. "I'm not hungry."

"Hannah do I need to give you the definition of the word order? That was not a request. Eat, now."

She picked at her food until she sensed his unwavering gaze, silently she complied and emptied her plate. "What now Master?"

"The football game starts any minute. Can't miss the Broncos."

"Seriously? You really think there is time for you to catch a football game?" She hadn't watched a football game in her life, and had no desire to begin now.

"Don't fret, the Broncos won't be the only team playing." He sat down on the couch, pulling the coffee table closer so he could reach his stash of toys easily. "Come here, now. Face up, head in my lap. Don't dally."

First time, every time, no hesitation. The mantra played through her head as she complied immediately with his command. He smiled down at her, playfully running an index finger over her lips. "Chew that lip any harder sweetheart and you'll bite right through it. Relax, this isn't going to hurt, much. You may even enjoy it."

He turned on the TV, muted it, and held up a toy for her to see. "Bullet vibrator. Nifty little gadget designed for tormenting a slut's naughtiest bits. Ever used one?"

"I hate you," she scowled at him. She had a feeling this game was going to last awhile, and since he hadn't eliminated rule number four she was pretty sure it was rigged so she would loose.

"Good, now we're getting somewhere. As smart as you are you know the usual rules still apply, no coming without permission. I don't want you distracting me from the ball game so no talking while it's on. You can beg all you want during commercials, but if you can't keep quiet while I'm watching I'll gag you."

He slipped the bullet vibrator next to her clit, holding it in place with a strip of medical tape and raising the sound on the TV just in time for the kickoff. He ignored her completely for several minutes, lulling her into a false sense of security before mindlessly turning the vibrator on at its lowest setting. 

The girl wasn't used to clitoral stimulation from anything beyond a couple of fingers, so it wasn't long before she was wiggling around on the couch and whimpering. He paid her no noticeable attention aside from gently covering her mouth with his hand to muffle the sounds of her distress. He must have been more aware of her suffering than she realized though, because just as she was certain she could hold back no longer he flipped the switch and eliminated the stimulus. The first commercial came on, but she refused to give in and beg for more. 

He gave her several minutes to recuperate before starting the process again, this time using a small hand held massager and running it up and down her slit, then slipping just the head inside her. While this wasn't as intense as direct stimulation it still left her breathless, and when he finally pulled the toy away she could see the head glistening from her juices. The game came back on and the torture stopped momentarily.

At the next commercial break he went to work on her nipples, gently kneading them with his fingers, then pinching them almost to the point of pain before running yet another toy over them. On and on the tormenting went, alternating between teasing her slit, playing with her breasts, and occasionally flipping on the damn bullet. Finally she felt she could stand no more. "Please Master, let me cum!"

He didn't even glance at her as he responded. 

"Nope."

She was in shock for a moment, it wasn't the response she had been expecting! She took a deep breath, not sure if she was going to plead for relief or swear at him, but before she made up her mind the game came back on. Mindful of the gag she held back until the next commercial. Thankfully he went easier on her this round, giving her time to formulate a decent retort. 

"You're cruel."

Finally he made eye contact, leering down at her. "I can be, when the situation warrants it. I find your bashfulness charming, but it's time we get you past that. Don't even attempt to convince me you aren't enjoying this."

"Are you planning on letting me cum? I refuse to beg needlessly."

He shrugged, going back to the game. "Maybe at half time."

She squirmed a bit trying to eye the TV and figure out how long she would have to wait, but he firmly turned her head away, covering her eyes. The teasing began anew. She made it through a couple more commercials without begging, but he didn't let up. Cruelly, just as the second commercial ended he activated the bullet. She knew she couldn't resist much longer and was torn between begging and risking the gag or coming without permission. She figured if she was gagged she couldn't beg his forgiveness. Sniveling regretfully she let everything fade away as the rush of feeling overwhelmed her senses.

He paid no attention and she thought maybe somehow he had missed it, until the next commercial. "Looks like someone has earned herself a punishment. Pity, we're in the last few minutes of the second quarter. You almost made it. Tell you what, since this is your first offense I'll let you choose your punishment."




Introspections Ch. 06



Reaching toward the table he grabbed a couple items, dangling a pair of nipple clamps over her and then showing her a thin leather strap. "Pick your poison dear, you can wear the clamps the rest of the game or during half time I get to beat your pussy. Choose quickly, or I will give you a taste of both."

She had no idea how long half time was, but she figured the shorter of the two options would be easiest to take, considering both possibilities involved very sensitive areas of her anatomy. "Fine, guess you'll miss the half time show."

"I am sure my half time show will be significantly more entertaining. Be a good girl and go get us both a drink." He gently peeled the tape back and removed the bullet vibe.

Relieved to escape further tormenting for a moment she slipped off his lap and headed to the fridge to grab a couple water bottles. She downed half of hers in two swigs, the cool water relieving her parched throat. Reluctantly she moved back to the living room to deliver the remaining bottle. He took it from her and nodded toward his lap, obviously implying she should resume her position. First time, every time she reminded herself as she obeyed. 

As soon as the half time show began he settled in to begin her punishment. He started with his hand, gently smacking her pussy several times before stopping to rub away the sting. She took the first few rounds of spanking and rubbing stoically, though the strikes became increasingly harder over time. After several minutes he reached for the strap and she clenched her teeth in anticipation.

"The point of this exercise is to teach you self control. If you can take ten strikes without a sound I'll go back to my hand. If not, you get more of the strap until I decide you've had enough. That's all the control you're going to get."

The strikes were intended to sting rather than actually hurt, but she was already very tender. After the third stroke she was silently gasping for air, by the fifth she was writhing about on his lap. She was determined though, she kept her legs spread and not a sound escaped as she took the five remaining blows. As promised he dropped the strap and resumed punishing her with his hand, though there was far more stroking than spanking this time.

"Hmm, very wet I see. I bet I could make you cum again."

"No..." she whimpered.

"You doubt my ability? Or you're hoping I'll stop? You really must learn to be more specific sweetheart."

He was egging her on, but he was also watching her carefully to make sure she was still responsive to his promptings. He wanted to push her limits, not obliterate them, and since he was working without a safe word he knew the lines between just enough and too much were very thin. 

"No more, please! I'm sure you can pull it off, but I don't think I can take it any longer. Mercy!"

"I love it when you beg. Grab that blanket and make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."

When he returned holding her notebook he found her wrapped in the blanket in his armchair. He brushed hair out of her face gently and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Journal it, then you can rest."

"Why?" She wasn't resisting him, she was seeking clarification, unsure of what he expected her to write.

"Because you have a million thoughts going through your head right now and you need to sort through them without my interference. Besides, we're winning and I don't want to miss any more of the game."

In reality he could care less about the game. In fact, had she asked he would cheerfully have informed her that he hated football and had only used the game as a way to put some distance between them while he explored her boundaries. In a normal relationship, even one embracing dominance and submission, they would have far more space physically and emotionally to ease into their roles. With a deadline looming he'd had to find a way to artificially create some of that emotional distance.

Since she didn't ask he left the game on and faked interest, giving him the time to subtly observe the after effects of their training session. He was relieved to find a faint smile on her face, hopefully indicating her thoughts were more pleasurable in nature than distressed. 

As the game ended she nodded off and he took the opportunity to slip into his bedroom to find some relief of his own before heating some soup for dinner. After eating his own portion he pulled a footstool up beside the armchair and gently coaxed her awake, holding a spoon to her lips. She made no effort to take it from him, simply opening her mouth and allowing him to care for her for the moment. 

"More training now?" She sounded resigned to the fact that further training was needed, but despite the brief nap she was still exhausted.

"Not now, you've done enough for one day. You did great sweetheart, you really are amazing. Should we call it a night?"

She nodded, relieved, and he folded the blanket as she headed for the shower. He settled into his chair to flip through a magazine while he waited for her to finish. After about twenty minutes he started to get concerned, so he knocked gently on the door. When he didn't get a response his concern grew. He waned to give her space, but memories of finding his sister dead in a bathtub resulted in a sense of panic and he pushed open the door, relieved to find it unlocked.

He found her sitting in the tub, knees pulled up to her chest, the now cold water pounding against her back as she sobbed. Immediately he turned off the water and pulled her from the tub, grabbing a towel to wrap her in.

"Oh Hannah, I'm sorry. I know we're in a hurry, but I didn't mean too push you too far."

She shook her head, shivering helplessly in his arms. "The shampoo...it's lavender"

"I know. I ran all over town looking for it. I thought you said that's what you liked!"

"I do." She laughed hysterically and then burst into tears again.

"Hannah darling, the sheer inconsistency of your emotions are completely baffling. Stand up."

She did so without comment and stood there listlessly as he carefully toweled her dry from top to bottom, ran a brush gently through her hair, and even brushed her teeth. He guided her out of the bathroom and tucked her into his bed, before retrieving his phone from the locked filing cabinet and stepping out of the room to make some calls. 

It was several hours before he returned, expecting to find her sound asleep. However, as he climbed carefully into bed next to her he felt her stiffen. 

"Hannah?"

"What." Her reply was terse.

"You're still awake."

"I noticed."

"Can I ask you a question?" His tone was hesitant, and that alone put her on edge. 

"Since when do you need permission to ask me a question? You're the dominant male, remember?" She wasn't sure what he was after, but if he was nervous about asking she was pretty sure she wasn't going to like it.

"Since I decided I wasn't going to punish you if you said no. This isn't an order, or training. I just want to know. Humor me."

What could it hurt? She threw his own words back at him, "You can ask, but I won't promise to answer."

Her sarcasm was not missed. "How old were you?"

She rolled over and looked at him seeking clarification. "What?" 

"When the games started. The ones you played alone in the dark, that nobody could know about. How old were you?"

She tensed up again, pushing herself physically away from him. "Damn you!"

Once again she had left him utterly confused, "Does that mean no?" She glared at him, and he was suddenly glad he kept the knives locked away. If looks were capable of killing hers would have left him dead in his tracks. 

"I think a more accurate translation would be somewhere along the lines of go fuck yourself and leave me out of it." She turned her back to him again, moving as close as she could get to the edge of the bed without falling out of it. He sighed, and closed his eyes, thinking that was the end of it. He almost missed her whispered reply.

"Eight. I was eight."

It took himself a minute to wrap his mind around her answer and he started to apologize for asking. "Hannah, I'm..."

"Shut up. You told me your story so I'll tell you mine, but if you want to hear my fucked up sob story just shut up and listen."

He wasn't sure now he wanted to hear it, but he had asked so he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"I was about three when they got me. Picked me up at a social worker's office like you'd pick up a dog from the pound. Apparently the police had come across me in a drug raid, some meth house. Nobody they picked up in the raid cared enough to lay claim to me. I'll never know who my biological parents were, or why I was in the house that day. I don't remember it, but they said for the first few months every time they touched me I'd scream. So they stopped. They provided the basics, food and shelter, but they didn't know what the hell to do with me so for the most part they just let me be."

He wanted to reach for her, pull her into his arms and promise he would protect her, chase away her dragons. But he was pretty sure she wouldn't let him touch her, and all too aware that he couldn't even promise protection, let alone dragon slaying. 

"Two years after me they got a baby. A normal baby, one they could hold. After him they didn't need me any more, but I figure they decided returning me would make them look bad. I started touching myself when I was five or six. It felt good, and nobody else touched me, so I kept doing it. After a couple years though it wasn't enough just to touch myself. So I started the games. 

"At first they were innocent enough. Strip naked at night then hurry and dress before they woke me in the morning. Tiptoe into the hall naked and run away when I heard them coming or hide myself naked in the hallway closet. Sleep under the bed naked instead of in it. Soon the risk of getting caught wasn't enough, so I added in the pain. By eleven I was punishing myself by cutting, but that left marks. That they did notice. I spent the next few years in and out of kiddie psych wards."

At first it had seemed as if she was on the verge of tears, but now her voice was simply numb, as though she was telling some type of horrific bedtime story that was not her own.

"By fourteen I was tired of being locked up and I'd learned their rules so I decided to play along with their games. I threw myself into studying, reading everything I could get my hands on. Academics were easy for me so I did well in school. Learning to master the ability to fake social nuances was harder, but I treated it as just yet another topic of study and I guess I did well enough at that too. It got me through high school as long as I didn't get too close to anyone. I couldn't risk someone finding out I was faking everything. That's why I didn't really date, aside from a few cursory outings to keep up appearances. That's why I'm still a virgin. I'm too fucked up to let anyone get close to me.

I left for college as soon as I graduated high school. My parents were far from rich, but they paid for my schooling. I studied psychology, thought maybe if I studied hard enough I would find my answers. I did, at least I learned about attachment theories and attachment disorders, recognized I was basically a textbook case. 

One day I was writing a paper for a class on human sexuality and I stumbled across a site about BDSM. It appealed to me, the idea of pain bringing pleasure, I could tell you all the physiological reasons it makes sense. The idea of letting go and giving someone else complete control was also tempting. Some days I would be so damn tired of fighting to be in control of every thought, every action. Keeping up appearances is exhausting.

But I also realized it could be very dangerous, that I could easily loose myself in it. That's why I limited it to exploring online, why I never intended for it to become reality. 

Except now it is. I can feel it happening, feel myself loosing control, and I'm scared. I'm afraid I'll find out who I really am is someone nobody can love. I'm afraid I'll go back to being that three year old, alone in a meth house. Rape me, beat me, torture me, whatever it takes to get your revenge. But you must never love me James, whatever you do. That I can not stand."

He knew he couldn't comfort her, that nothing he did could ever take away her pain. But he also sensed she needed something to hold onto, and he could give her that. 

"Hannah, I need you to remember one thing, that's all I ask. They are looking for you sweetheart. Your family is searching, and they've publicly declared they will never give up. That's not the action of parents who want their problem child to disappear, it's an assurance that regardless of what you've done or what you think you are they want you back. They haven't given up on you, and neither have I."

There was nothing more to be said, so he turned away from her, left her alone with her pain and self hatred. Second only to burying Sarah it was the hardest thing he had ever done.



Introspections Ch. 07



He heard her awake in the middle of the night and considered going after her. The doors were alarmed again and he wasn't really concerned she would leave, but remembering his sister's struggles and the apparent depths of the girl's self hatred he was somewhat concerned she would attempt to harm herself. 

He forced himself to stay put, reassured by his intentional efforts to keep any potential weapons carefully secured, as well as the realization that his Hannah was strong in a way his sister never had been. Even so, his sleep the remainder of the night was restless.

When he finally left his room the next morning he went looking for her, presuming he would find her in her own bed. Instead he discovered her sleeping on a large cushion in front of the fireplace, covered in nothing but a blanket. The cat was curled against her slender body and he hoped she had drawn at least a small measure of comfort from its presence. 

Loath to wake her, he slowly lowered himself into his armchair and simply watched her breathe. Finally she rolled over and sat up, drawing the blanket around herself when she became aware of his presence. She stared at him silently and he offered her a sad smile. 

"Today is our dress rehearsal and it's the only one we get. Since I need you on your best behavior I'm not going to push you to bare your soul any further right now. Make no mistake, when our company leaves we will be processing whatever drove you out of my bed last night, but for now I don't want to hear a word out of you unless you need clarification or are responding to a direct question. Today there will be no teasing, no games, and no mercy. Just instant obedience or immediate punishment. Is that clear?"

She nodded her head, finding she was relieved. She had told him more the night before than she had ever shared with anyone, including her parents and multiple therapists. Discussing how her vulnerability made her feel was not high on her "to do" list. Clear cut expectations with predictable consequences was by far less complex and not as frightening.

"A direct question requires a verbal answer Hannah. I believe a 'Yes Master' is what I am after. Slave position please and then let's hear it."

Slipping the blanket off her shoulders she kneeled on the cushion, bottom touching her heels with her back slightly arched, eyes downcast, and hands palms up on her thighs. "Yes Master," she declared in a voice much more confident than she felt.

"Very nice, perfect except for one minor modification. When taking this position in front of the bastard or any of his goons I want your palms face down on your thighs. This signal indicates you are not available for sexual use without express permission from your Master."

That was something she could agree with fully and she made the requested change instantaneously. 

"Good, now repeat rules one through four in order, word for word. I hope you've been practicing."

She didn't stumble at the request, despite the fact they hadn't reviewed them for several days. Years of close attention to detail and several courses on study skills had paid off.

"Fine, you have no excuses if you choose to break a rule. Now let's go through each of your positions, then I want you to crawl over and kneel at my feet with your hands clasped behind your back."

Again her responses were both prompt and exact and she soon knelt in front of him as commanded. Unzipping his jeans he took out his cock and stroked it in front of her until it was fully erect, rubbing it against her cheek before ordering her to open her mouth. This was the point at which he feared nervous hesitation would call for punishment, but she didn't fail him and he was soon pleasantly encompassed in her mouth with her lips closed firmly around him. 

"This is not meant to be enjoyable for you so I don't care if you pretend to like it, but you sure as hell better take it without any noticeable resistance. I'm going to fuck your face hard and fast this time, if you can't keep up or if I feel any teeth you'd better plan on spending the next hour on your knees sucking on rubber."

With that warning he wrapped one hand around her jaw and entwined the other in her hair, starting slowly to push himself further into her warm cavern. "Use your tongue, lick the tip. When I speed up get it out of the way and let me do the work. Just this once if you feel like you're going to puke you can signal it with a hand on my thigh, but you won't get that luxury tomorrow."

After another minute or so bobbing in and out at a slower pace he increased his tempo, shoving himself further down her throat with each thrust. The first few times when he felt her gag reflex he pulled back a bit to give her a chance to breathe, but as he drew closer to a release he grew less concerned with her tolerance level. He pushed her harder than he had initially planned to but she took it like a champ. 

"That's it baby, almost there. I'll be coming soon, don't spill a drop!"

He exploded in her mouth a few moments later and she rose to the challenge, clasping her lips tightly shut and downing each spurt, even keeping him in her mouth until he was soft without being prompted.

"Good girl. If I didn't know better I'd think you've practiced your technique for years. Sorry, no toothbrush this time. Well trained sluts wouldn't even consider washing away their Master's cum. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thank you Master." He couldn't tell if she was giving him an honest answer or the response she thought he wanted to hear but he didn't press further.

"Obviously I'll be doing all the cooking, but you'll be expected to serve. You will serve your Master first and our company second. When we are both served you may kneel on the rug next to me on my right side between the table and the wall. I would usually put you on the other side so you can slip out easier to fetch us things as needed but I don't want you anywhere near potentially roaming hands. Tomorrow you'll eat after we are both finished before cleaning up. You can stand at the counter while you do, sitting on chairs or furniture without direct permission is traditionally forbidden."

He cooked breakfast and she served it satisfactorily and kneeled next to him as directed. When finished he arose, giving her permission to eat and then to clean up. He ordered her to join him downstairs when the cleaning was finished. As she entered the playroom he instructed her to lay on the table facedown. 

"How much pain do you think you can take? I need to get a better idea of your pain threshold." He was somewhat apologetic as he explained his intentions.

"I'm sure more than you'd care to give Master, presuming you really are not a sadist." With her face turned away he couldn't read her facial expressions, but he thought her response sounded almost amused.

"We'll see how it goes. I'm going to start with a few strokes from a variety of implements and will then ask you to rank your pain level on a standard one to ten scale. It is vitally important you don't hold back your automatic responses or underestimate your level of pain. I suspect you disassociate to manage intense pain and I need to know exactly how far I can take you without that happening. I'm going to need you alert and totally responsive tomorrow."

He started with a suede flogger similar to the one they had experimented with earlier, giving her ten moderate strokes on the buttocks. She took them without noticeable response. 

"Give me your rating. Don't overthink it, just tell me the first number that comes to mind."

"Two." He thought he heard a hint of teasing in her voice, as if she was dating him to do more, so he did. Moving to a riding crop he gave her half a dozen heavier strokes. 

Still, this drew only a rating of three. 

He switched to a wooden paddle, starting with five moderate strokes and when that drew another three rating he followed up with an additional five heavier strokes, finally drawing some whimpering and shifting on the table before she gave him a pain rating of five. 

Confident he had found the middle of her pain threshold he progressed to a split tawse, giving her an even half dozen strokes. The heavier implement left slight welts even when applied at moderate strength and he heard her first actual cry of pain and a solid rating of seven.

Somewhat reluctantly he picked up a cane, reasoning a few well placed lasting marks would imply ongoing punishment during tomorrow's initial inspection. "This is the last implement, I guarantee this will hurt. I want you to give me a rating instantly after each stroke."

The first stroke, though mildly applied, drew an immediate four and left a thin red mark along her ass. The second resulted in a hissing breath and shot her pain level up to a solid six. He was tempted to stop there, but decided a few more marks were called for.

"I'm giving you three more strokes, you don't need to rate them. I promise I'm not beating you needlessly, I'm intentionally marking you. Go ahead and cry if you feel like it, no need to hold it in. As soon as I finish with the cane we'll get to the aftercare."

He moved to the side of the table, placing a hand firmly on the small of her back and administering the final three strokes in quick succession. She tensed with each blow but did not cry out, making him suspect he had reached her limit and caused her to disassociate to some extent. Now the trick was figuring out what would draw her out of that state the fastest.

He slipped a finger into her and found her barely damp, indicating she had been neither dishonest nor uninformed when she told him she was not masochistic. She obviously was not in the least bit aroused by pain. Inwardly he cursed at himself, questioning if he had pushed her tolerance too far. Crossing the room to the cupboards he pulled out a bottle of unscented lotion and retrieved a soft blanket from the closet. Cautiously massaging the lotion into her buttocks, he carefully ran his fingers over the marks from the cane relieved to find only mild bruising that would probably last a day or two at most.

He thought about giving her a deeper massage, but decided he wanted clear boundaries between the pain and pleasure. Instead he wrapped her tightly in a blanket and lay her down gently on the couch, heading to the kitchen to grab her a glass of orange juice and some crackers. She took both the glass and the crackers without comment. When she was finished he knelt down next to her and ran a finger down her cheek, "Come on back to me Hannah, let me see your eyes."

After a couple minutes more she took a deep breath and finally met his gaze. "I thought you said no mercy."

"Fuck what I said, I need to know if you are okay." The anger in his response surprised her. 

"Relax, I'm fine. I've taken much worse, it's no big deal."

He shook his head. "That's where you are wrong, sweetheart. It's an incredibly big deal. Just because you can tolerate abuse doesn't mean you should. You deserve far better."

She found herself psychoanalyzing him, an act that surprised her as it seemed it had always been the other way around. It didn't take a psychology degree to figure out he was feeling guilty. 

"We are both acting out roles here James, you know that. Unfortunately both roles are vital at the moment. You don't have to enjoy your role any more than I enjoy mine, but if you're not mistaken we don't have another choice. I'm the one with the most to loose here and I would much rather put up with some play acting to keep the bastard at bay than end up pissing him off and getting my ass shipped to some brothel. So pull yourself together and figure out what else we need to get ready for a visit."

He laughed out loud. "I keep underestimating you Hannah. You're much too stubborn to go down without a fight. You know how to play your role like an expert, but apparently I'm struggling with mine. Tell me what you can about the bastard and your handler. Help me understand what makes them tick."

She swallowed nervously, he was asking her to go back to a very dark place and she honestly would prefer another beating. She hesitated for just a moment, wondering if asking for what she really wanted was worth the risk of making herself more vulnerable, quickly deciding she didn't want to go back there alone.

"Hold me, please?"

He responded unquestioningly, grasping out and drawing her into his arms, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. He missed the magnitude of the request, but she didn't. It was literally the first time in her life she had asked someone to hold her, and the fact that she had done so willingly left her both reassured and terrified. However she had both the personal experience and the professional background to give him exactly what he needed.

"Shawn is easy to figure out. He is an idiot who gets off on power. I suspect he is a narcissist, without question he is a control freak completely focused on getting his own way. I'm rather surprised he managed to engage me online for the length of time he did. I'm certain he wouldn't have pulled it off successfully in person. I'm can't be sure but from what he said I think I was his first take and his first chance to attempt training a slave.

He's not particularly intelligent, uses his fists as his only real tool. If he wants something he'll attempt to beat it out of you, if you resist he will simply beat you harder. His hair trigger makes him dangerous, but also very predictable and thus easy to manipulate. I don't think I'm overconfident when I say I'd find it easier to break him than he would to break me. That may be one reason the bastard let me go as early as he did, he probably correctly presumed Shawn doesn't have what it would take to do the job.

The bastard himself is an entirely different matter. He is a true psychopath. Brilliant, chillingly so, and a master at mind games. I didn't spend a lot of time with him, but both times it took him only minutes to identify my weaknesses and use them against me. The second time we met I think he'd grown tired of watching Shawn attempt to gain my cooperation and wanted to prove it could be done with ease. He certainly managed to do so.

He had them bring me from my cell and hang me in cuffs in front of his fireplace and he ignored me completely for several hours. When he finally did address me he sat at his desk without making eye contact and laid out the rules for his game. He told me I was choose an implement from his selection on the wall and ask him politely to beat me with it.

Of course I ignored him and he continued to act as if I wasn't there until without warning he grabbed a crop from his desk and began striking me with it. He didn't make eye contact or say anything at all. After a minute he went back to what he was doing as if he'd stopped only long enough to swat an annoying fly. The next time around it was a feather, drawing it across my skin in sensitive places, again without a word or a glance and continuing only a few minutes before he went back to ignoring me completely. 

They brought dinner to him and when he was finished he poured himself a glass of wine and stood in front of me like he was viewing a piece of art rather than a person. When he was nearly finished he drizzled a bit onto each of my breasts and carefully licked the drops off. No words, no eye contact, just using me as he would a cup. 

It didn't take long for me to break after that. I just wanted to get the beating over with and go back to being alone. I begged him to beat me, even brought him the tool, presented myself and thanked him for every stroke. I was relieved when it was over, thought he would call them to get me, but he simply chained me up again and went back to work. 

After awhile he told me again to make my choice, then back to alternating between ignoring me and taunting me until I gave in and again begged to be punished, chose the tool, thanked him for each stroke. I thought for sure he was done with me then, but he simply hung me back over the fireplace and proceeded to get ready for bed as if he was completely alone. 

He turned the lights down and took a book to bed with him and read for awhile before again giving me permission to ask to be beaten. Believe it or not, I think I would have offered him anything in that moment if he would only do something to indicate he viewed me as a person and not simply a possession to be used when it amused him.

He didn't make me choose that time, didn't ask me to count. He simply whipped me as if he didn't have a care in the world, until I couldn't support myself any more and I collapsed, held up only by chains. I thanked him without prompting when he finished but he didn't even acknowledge me, just turned off the lights and went to bed. The pain was bad, but nothing unbearable. The guilt of begging for him to beat me was far worse, and the feeling of being nearly invisible and completely without value was soul crushing. 

I can tolerate pain, embrace it even. It reminds me I'm alive. The thought of simply ceasing to exist, being so insignificant that nobody would even notice you were gone, that terrifies me. Somehow he knew that and figured out how to use it against me. I was relieved when they came for me the next morning to take me back to Shawn for more beatings. I'm afraid if they had left me with the bastard any longer he would have broken me completely, seemingly without effort. That's the kind of man he is."

Hearing the emptiness in her voice made his blood boil and he vowed then and there to take down the bastard or die trying. In fact death wasn't an option, he would never leave his Hannah to fend against her worst nightmare alone. No, the bastard was going to burn, the sooner the better. They would see to that together.



Introspections Ch. 08



The next morning he paced the floor nervously, much to her annoyance. She knew what was expected and was ready to comply and his apparent doubt of her abilities was frustrating. 

"I should just bind and gag you, keep you on display. I'm sure that's what he is expecting."

She shook her head in exasperation. 

"Stop hovering! I can do this, I've played many roles and believe me, the role of sex slave is significantly easier than acting the part of a loving daughter. Besides, I don't want to be bound if he tries something dangerous and I need an escape option."

He still wasn't fully convinced, but he decided her argument made sense. Leaving her completely helpless would not be wise. Their guest was not expected until early afternoon so he had plenty of time to fret. To kill time he began cleaning the already tidy kitchen. After he washed the same dish twice in a row she moved over to him and gently took it from his hands.

"Why are you so nervous? You've been up against the bastard himself and you certainly weren't this flustered."

He took her into his arms, needing the reassurance of her body against his own. 

"You were a hypothetical concept at the time, simply the first option he presented. You didn't mean anything to me then. Now you do. The bastard viewed you as an object, but you're certainly not one to me. Believe me, I would miss you if you were gone."

She tensed in his arms and slipped out of his grasp. "Don't go there James, don't you dare. This is not about you or me, it's about revenge and that's all. Caring about me is a wasted effort so don't bother. Just focus on getting through this visit without screwing up and blowing this for both of us."

He wanted to argue with her, but they didn't have time for a heart to heart discussion, so he took her advice and reminded himself to focus on the goal. He wasn't doing this for himself, he never had been. He was doing this for Sarah and now for Hannah, along with the countless other families the bastard's organization had destroyed. This was about crumbling the foundations of that organization.

The moment the doorbell rang the girl took her position in front of the fireplace kneeling in slave position with palms downward as prescribed. He opened the door to usher in their guest and as she heard their voices she let out a breath of relief, realizing the visitor's voice was completely unfamiliar. She hadn't wanted to add additional worry to an already tense situation so she hadn't mentioned it, but she had inwardly questioned her ability to go through with the plan if the bastard had sent her previous handler to make this house call.

She kept her eyes carefully focused on the floor as the men entered the room, their guest taking a seat in the armchair as her master took a place on the couch across the room from her. The two men made the obligatory introductions before turning to the matter at hand, specifically her.

"She takes to slavery well, I must admit I am surprised. I was lead to believe she was a rather difficult case." The callous reference to her as a slave was not wasted and drew a terse response from her supposed owner.

"Her training is coming along well, as you can see. She's become very adept at serving. One of these days I'll put her to good use sexually, but we're focusing on developing other talents at the moment."

He had figured getting the topic of her virginity out of the way at the onset was the best approach, not wanting to risk the appearance of hiding something so significant. The response was as surprised as he'd been expecting.

"You mean you haven't taken her yet? What use is a slave if you're not going to fuck them daily?"

Remember the goal...he talked himself out of strangling the man currently occupying his favorite chair.

"I rather enjoy the novelty of a virgin slut. How many of your other clients can claim to own the same?" 

"None I suppose, it does indicate a sense of control not usually present among our typical clientele. Of course the majority of the merchandise we acquire is no longer virginal, but those we do pass on are typically claimed within hours after purchase. I don't suppose you'll object to my verifying virginity?"

"Not at all. Warm yourself up slut, rub your clit." She did as commanded attempting to produce some level of lubrication. He didn't force her to work at it for long.

That's enough, stand and present."

The girl leapt to her feet as commanded, lacing her hands together behind her neck. Her master moved across the room and stood behind her, gripping her around the waist and nudging her with his foot prompting her to spread her legs wider. "Eyes open and down," he whispered. She responded immediately, she hadn't even realized she had instinctively closed them.

He could feel her trembling slightly, but figured it wouldn't do any good to order her to stop. Her acting terrified and responding anyway would hopefully prove her willing compliance, or so he reasoned. Appropriately, she made no attempt to resist when their uninvited guest reached between her legs and roughly slid a thick finger into her deep enough to reach her barrier. She winced at the pain but didn't make any attempt to draw away. 

The man completed his inspection and stood to face her, holding his finger to her lips. This move was unexpected but she responded without hesitation, licking his finger clean. Despite her earlier efforts she had barely been damp and there was hardly even a trace of secretions present, but the man insistently shoved another finger in her mouth and left them there for a moment as if willing her to respond by pulling away or biting down. Instead she sucked obligingly until the fingers were finally withdrawn.

Satisfied with her efforts the man then ran his fingers along her neck following the line of the thin gold chain she had worn since her master had placed it there.

"You've collared her already?" His tone was condemnatory. 

"You think it's too soon?"

"I think you're too soft." 

Removing his fingers from her neck he instead placed them lower circling her breast and gently twisting her nipple, again testing for resistance. She noticed her master tightening his grasp around her waist and silently begged him to maintain his composure. 

"My slave, my methods. As you may recall I paid your boss a handsome bonus for the privilege of training her as I see fit."

"That's true, I suppose. Tell me you've at least started training her to service you orally."

"I'm not a eunuch, naturally I need some form of relief. Have a seat and I'll demonstrate her skills."

The men returned to their respective positions and her master gave his command.

"Crawl slut."

She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled across the room to him, kneeling at his feet. He unsnapped his jeans and adjusted his boxers, pulling out his semi-erect cock. She knelt patiently awaiting his command to take it in her mouth and began submissively bobbing up and down awaiting further instruction. 

He left her to her own efforts far longer than she had expected as the two men made small talk with occasional comments on her technique. Finally their visitor inquired as to her ability to deep throat and her master took control, demonstrating her ability to take him deeper with prompting than she would have without encouragement. At last he reached his peak and calmly ordered her to finish him off and clean him thoroughly before allowing her to back away and slipping his cock back into his pants. The visitor eyed her leeringly.

"Her technique is rudimentary but I suppose it is effective. I'd like to give her a try myself and see if she really shows promise."

She was pretty sure the response from both herself and her master was noticeable, but it couldn't be helped. 

"I'm a greedy man, I don't like to share my playthings. Sorry to disappoint." 

"Understandable I suppose. I would like to sit in on one of your training sessions, unless of course you feel that would also be overstepping my bounds." There was a thinly veiled threat in the words which left only one possible answer.

"By all means, let me show you to the basement." He motioned the girl to rise and walk ahead of the two men, so she led the way down the stairs and into the basement "play room".

"To the cross girl. Face forward, arms extended."

She obeyed without hesitance, allowing him to cuff both wrists and ankles to the cross. Her master picked up a flogger and applied several heavy strokes from her chest down to her inner thighs. The strikes were hard enough to redden the skin and bring tears to her eyes. 

After warming her up he switched between multiple implements, often asking the observer's opinion on the use of each. He was careful to hit hard enough to leave some markings, but never consistently hard enough to cause her to withdraw emotionally and physically. Finally he placed the tools of torture aside and picked up a tool used to torment, one of his favorite vibrators. He followed a now familiar pattern across her body and down to her thighs, carefully avoiding any direct stimulation.

"Tell the nice man what we're working toward sweetheart."

She hoped her downcast eyes were sufficient to hide her look of surprise. She knew the answer he was looking for, they had discussed it in detail several times, but they hadn't practiced this game. This was improv. She fought to keep a grin off her face, she loved a challenge.

"You're seeking true submission Master."

He patted her on the head and she bit her lip hard, not out of nervousness this time, but out of necessity. Laughing out loud would result in breaking character and they couldn't have that! 

"Tell me pet, how does your Master define submission?"

"Obeying out of desire to please rather than fear of punishment Master."

"You're not very good at submitting yet, are you little one?"

Uh oh, all of a sudden she wasn't sure where he was going with this, but it was a direct question and required a yes or no answer so her odds were 50/50. She picked the most likely correct response.

"No Master."

He chuckled and she silently let out a sigh of relief. But he wasn't ready to drop it yet.

"We're making progress though, right?"

Okay, at least the prompting in that question was clear. She still didn't know where he was headed, but she would continue to play along. She kept her tone carefully balanced between confident and hopeful. 

"Yes Master?"

"And when do you get to cum sweetheart?"

Aha! Now his endgame was apparent. He had no intention of making her orgasm in front of this stranger and was giving her a safe out. She mentally reminded herself to express her gratitude appropriately when they were alone.

"When I learn Master."

"Good girl, that's right. You will learn eventually, but not today."

He flipped off the vibrator and tossed it aside, turning to address their visitor.

"You see, she is making progress at a reasonable pace. I wouldn't want instant submission, no fun in that. Give me a minute to get her safely settled and I'll meet you upstairs. I have some business matters I would like to discuss privately."

As soon as they were alone he unstrapped her and held her in his arms, whispering in her ear.

"Good work sweetheart, you were excellent. Time for a brief recess."

He tucked her safely away in the downstairs bedroom and headed upstairs to take care of necessary details. She forced herself to sit on the bed despite a desperate urge to pace the floor. He hadn't locked the door, but even so she couldn't help but wonder how she would manage to escape if their visitor decided for some reason to reclaim her. The men's conversation seemed to last forever before he fetched her to finalize dinner preparations.

The cooking had all been completed in advance so thankfully all she had to do was reheat a couple of dishes and prepare the table. She did so almost mindlessly while she attempted to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two men as they sat in the living room. 

Frustratingly they seemed to be discussing mundane topics such as current political candidates and gun control laws, nothing which related to how exactly they were going to get into the bastard's fortress and bring him down. She hoped their meeting while she had been stuck in the basement had been more productive.

Finally dinner was served and she knelt in position ready to respond to any needs. When their guest called for more water she dutifully rose to bring the pitcher. After filling his cup she set the pitcher carefully on the table and the man reached for her as she removed her arm, firmly grasping her wrist. She froze, certainly she couldn't pull away but the tight grasp and the unknown intentions were frightening. The man drew her hand to his lips and planted a kiss on the top of her hand. She swallowed deeply, valiantly keeping her eyes focused on the trim of the tablecloth rather than seeking her master's gaze. 

"She is a pretty little thing. It's a shame you haven't yet partaken of all she has to offer. Rather a waste of pure flesh, don't you think?"

Her master refused to engage in a pissing match with this stranger. It was obviously yet another attempt to get a reaction and it was not going to work. One misstep could be the only justification needed for the organization to reclaim her. Negotiating a mine field was no less difficult than their current circumstance.

"Good things come to those who wait. Kneel pet." 

The command left no room for objection and she was soon kneeling safely out of reach, much to her relief. The meal concluded without further incident and her master invited the man to again convene in the living room, allowing her to hurriedly choke down a few bites of food before a thorough cleaning of the kitchen. 

When the cleaning was finished she slipped into the living room and knelt again in proper position near the fireplace awaiting further instruction. The conversation paused briefly as her master addressed her.

"Come here pet." 

He patted the couch and she crawled over to him, awaiting confirmation before pulling herself onto the couch and resting her head in his lap, facing toward the couch with her back to the stranger. Her master ran his fingers through her hair reassuringly as he addressed the other man.

"I don't need to break the girl's will before expecting compliance. Unless she lied to me, and I don't think she would dare, her handler couldn't gain compliance through the use of his whip despite weeks of effort, while your boss had her begging for a beating in mere hours using an indirect approach to training. Using her own intelligence against her has proven effective, she is smart enough not to continue futile resistance and it didn't take long to convince her all resistance was futile."

The rest of the conversation was slightly more amicable as the men discussed the merits of different training methods and the implementation of various techniques. Now safe in his arms with no need to anticipate further orders she allowed herself to relax as much as possible, trusting that he would keep her safe from harm.

At last the conversation ended and she obediently followed her "owner" into the master bedroom after he ensured their guest was settled for the night. He ordered her into bed and hushed her when she attempted to speak as he retrieved his cell phone from the filing cabinet and turned his camera system on, sitting on the bed next to her as he observed their guest's actions.

Up until this point she hadn't known the camera system existed, but it seemed pointless to hide it from her now. Unfortunately the system didn't have audio capabilities and he cursed himself for not thinking that feature necessary. Their guest was on the phone and his discussion appeared to be quite heated. Eventually the conversation ended and the lights went off. Finally he turned to her and allowed her to speak.

"Can you bring Trouble in here? I'm worried about him."

Naturally, they both were on the brink of being outed and his girl was worried about the damn cat. He turned to assure her the cat would be fine, but her doe-eyed look silenced his protest and he reluctantly left the room to track down the creature. Returning he dropped the cat unceremoniously on the bed. 

"Just for tonight and if he pees on my bed I swear he will spend the next eight of his lives in the garage."

She nodded her assent and then addressed him in a tone that was hushed but still forceful.

"When did you intend to tell me you collared me? Somehow you failed to mention that tiny little detail when I accepted your gift."

"I wasn't sure he would take it that way, though I'm glad he did. Anything that he takes as evidence of my claiming you for my own is a good thing at the moment."

She looked doubtful, but didn't object further, instead rolling over and falling into a light sleep. He woke her a couple hours later to offer her a cup of water and the familiar white pills.

She shook her head, disgruntled. "Are you going to tell me why you woke me up to drug me to sleep?"

"Because I want you really and truly asleep in the morning so I can show him you are out of commission and get him to leave as soon as possible. Plus, I want you well rested when we have the little discussion you've been hoping I've forgotten about."

Though she wasn't happy about the implied upcoming interrogation she took the pills without further objection and let him spoon up against her while she drifted into a drugged sleep.



Introspections Ch. 09



He awoke early the next morning and set about preparing breakfast for their guest, who gave him a dubious look as he entered the kitchen.

"Where's your slut? Don't tell me you're her personal chef and maid as well?"

He cracked another egg into the pan, crushing the shell to smithereens in his hand before responding.

"I drug her at night, I prefer not having to shackle her to the bed. Besides, she doesn't cook. Completely hopeless at it, even when I punished her for lack of effort. Your boss should have vetted her profile more thoroughly before putting her on the market. Hence the need for another girl, one who can fulfill some of my other basic needs as well."

The guest nodded his understanding. 

"As we discussed last night that is something my boss will take into consideration. Providing, of course, the necessary funds are in place for an additional investment."

He flipped the egg onto a plate, belatedly wondering if he could have laced the eggs with cyanide. Unfortunately he needed this lackey alive if he was going to take a message back to his boss.

"I assure you funds are not an issue. They are already in place. I will send your boss the necessary details as soon as I have his response."

After the men finished their shared meal they rose from the table and at the guest's request made their way toward the master bedroom where the girl lay sleeping, curled up under a blanket in the middle of the bed. Her master pulled the blanket from her body, leaving her naked and helpless before the two men. 

"You could take her now, obviously she's in no condition to stop you." 

The baiting was becoming ridiculous, it was well past time to show their guest to the door.

"I assure you when I do finally decide to claim her sexually she will be wide awake and able to feel every last thrust. The weather looks to be getting worse so you really should be on your way. Please send your boss my regards and pass on my request. I will look forward to hearing from him some time soon."

Finally the door was closed and locked and he could breathe freely. He moved back to the bedroom and looked over the girl sleeping peacefully. She was so enticing lying there, asleep and blissfully silent, that he couldn't resist running his hands over her body, softly stroking her hair before reluctantly pulling himself away. He groaned in frustration and headed to the bathroom for yet another cold shower. 

He was sitting at his computer working when she began to stir, finally sitting up and drawing her fingers through her tangled hair.

"It's about time, I thought you were going to sleep the day away. Our guest has been sent on his way, so it's time for our discussion. You have ten minutes to get ready and meet me in the living room. Wear something sexy and don't dally, I am timing you. Don't push it."

She stared at him in confusion, uncertain why she would need something sexy if they were alone again but he didn't offer an explanation, simply turning away and leaving her to dig through the dresser. 

When it came to sensuality the selection left much to be desired, aside from only mildly provocative underwear her choices consisted primarily of sweatsuits and tee shirts. She pulled out a racier pair of underpants but after that was at a complete loss. Finally she settled on the lone pair of tight fitting jeans and then headed to the closet to raid his clothes, finding a button down shirt that didn't drowned her completely and tying a knot to the side. If he wanted something sexier than that there was shopping to be done. Realizing her time was almost gone she quickly ran a brush through her hair and pulled it into a side ponytail. With only a minute to spare she headed for the living room. 

He sat on the couch with a chilled cup in his hand and tossed a throw pillow down at his feet. When she knelt without further prompting he offered her the straw and she took a sip of what appeared to be a smoothie, though she puckered her lips in response to a bitter aftertaste.

"It's laced with gin and you are going to drink it all. I want you slightly buzzed, it will make the conversation more interesting. Now drink!"

There really wasn't that much alcohol in the drink and even though he knew it was her first time consuming any alcohol at all it would be unlikely to cause any level of drunkenness. He was counting on the placebo effect. She looked at him as if considering beginning an argument but seeing the sterness in his gaze she thought better of it. Without further delay she drained the cup, then sat back on her heels awaiting his next command. 

"Listen closely Hannah, because I am only going to say this once. You are not a lost cause, a wasted effort, or the problem child you make yourself out to be and I am not going to tolerate your charade a minute longer. 

It's time to give up on your pity party and start accepting yourself for who you really are. The next time I hear you speak toward yourself with even a hint of disrespect your ass will pay for it."

She opened her mouth to object and he held up a hand to stop her. He stood, pulling her to her feet and pushing her down the hall into the bathroom where he stood her in front of the mirror.

"Tell me sweetheart, what do you see when you look at yourself?"

She put on a show of bravado and snapped back a witty reply. "Not much of anything, I really do need to clean the mirrors in here."

He frowned at her. "That comes dangerously close to a self depreciating comment girl, watch yourself. I won't take any pleasure in punishing you but I'm not kidding when I say I won't tolerate any further disrespect toward yourself. Do you want to know what I see?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and started the lip nibbling. "Why do I get the feeling you are going to tell me whether I want you to or not?" 

He turned her to face him and ran a thumb across her cheek, drawing her eyes to his.

"Because I'm going to, whether you like it or not. I see a beautiful, stubborn, strong and brave girl who for some reason is unwilling to allow anyone to love her including herself and who hides behind a pointless wall in a half-hearted attempt to protect herself from being hurt. It's not going to work Hannah, you can't hide yourself from me forever. You will eventually have to let down your guard and when you do I will be ready and waiting."

He really didn't want to punish her, so he didn't give her time to lash out at him. Pushing her out of his way he shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving her staring at the mirror in stunned silence. After a moment she found herself blinking away tears, a weak response she was unwilling to tolerate. Anger was far safer than grief. She reached for the soap dish, throwing it across the small room and shouting in frustration, then sinking to the floor with her back against the door waiting for him to demand she let him in.

He didn't come looking for her. Finally she grew tired of waiting and she picked up the dish, relieved to find it had survived her outburst unscathed. Placing it back on the counter she left the bathroom, stopping in the doorway to the living room where he sat on the ledge of the fireplace with her journal in hand.

She crossed the room angrily and yanked it from his grip. He released it without a fight.

"I didn't read it Hannah, though God knows I want to. I don't know what I am doing, I'm no psychologist. Help me understand where you are coming from sweetheart, please!"

She laughed sarcastically. "I am a psych major. Not to mention I've seen no less than a dozen psychologists and more than my fair share of shrinks, none of who managed to drive me as mad as you do. How do you expect me to explain something I can't begin to understand myself? It's not that I don't want to let anyone in, believe me I have tried to break down the walls, but I can't do it. All I know is the walls are there for a reason. They've kept me alive, even if it's a pointless, lonely shadow of an existence. If you are waiting for me to tear them down voluntarily you've got a long wait ahead of you."

He stood, placing his arms on her shoulders, refusing to allow her to push him away.

"Hannah, up until the bastard made his move the only people you've had to hide yourself from are ghosts. Mere shadows in a three year old's memory. Unless I am missing the part where your adoptive parents were cruel and uncaring the only thing you've managed to protect yourself from is love. Come on into the bedroom, I want to show you something." 

Sitting down at the computer he entered his password and clicked a link on his bookmark bar, pulling up a news story from several months earlier. The girl sat staring transfixed at the screen as the feed played, the earnest pleading of voices she had fought hard not to think about as she'd struggled to survive over the last few weeks quickly sinking in. 

Deep down she had known they cared for her, but hearing her adoptive parents' pleas for her safe return drew her back to fighting those still unwelcome tears. When the clip ended he turned in his chair and gently wiped away a single tear as it trickled down her cheek.

"They don't even know I'm still alive. I can't tell them."

He sighed. "No. I wish you could, but it's too dangerous. For us, and for them as well. Until the bastard gets what is coming to him they can't know anything at all. I'm sorry."

Her shoulders slumped. "Don't be. This mess isn't your fault."

"We'll get him Hannah, I promise."

She turned away from him and retreated back into the bathroom, locking herself safely away before she sunk to the floor and curled up in fetal position, finally giving in to the tears.