3 comments/ 31959 views/ 1 favorites A Sacrificial Lamb Ch. 01 By: SlutSalome This is my first foray into erotic writing and what a strange and a dark journey my mind has taken! This is the beginning of something much bigger. I would really appreciate your comments and of course, ahem, your votes! Thank you Carlton_11 for your editing and helpful advice, you've been a god send. * * * * * The slamming of the door was worse than any slap I would ever endure. I had displeased my Master. I sit huddled in the middle of the floor, clutching the remnants of my torn dress; the blue satin cool upon my hot skin. Taking a deep breath, I do battle with my desire to just walk out, to leave behind my submission, to make Master see that he would be nothing without me. I choke back the tears, knowing that I am just fooling myself. If I were to walk out, he would never take me back, I had tried his patience too many times; that much was obvious. Why else would he command me to dress as a slut and leave me to my own devices? Normally he was so meticulous when it came to his treasured prize whore. I rise up from my knelt position, my muscles shaking with tension and pent up frustrated desire. My Master had teased me mercilessly, bringing me so close to the edge, where I love to plummet from and give myself completely over to him. But, he withdrew. Knowing me so well, he left me cruelly teetering on the edge. There was to be no release, a cruel torture even for my Master. Walking unsteadily into the bathroom, the click of my satin heels sounds hollow upon the marble tiles. Gripping hold of the white basin, I lift my head to look at my face, surprised to see no bruise rising on my cheek where Master had struck me in his anger. Only a dull ache is reminding me of what had happened. Touching my cheek gingerly I wince. I am ashamed at my make up, which is smudged with my tears. I reach for the make up remover then stop myself, remembering Master's words. "Leave your make up as it is slut, you do not deserve to look pretty, you have shown me what a whore you are." His thumb drags heavily over my red painted lips, smearing my cupids bow. I look again at myself in the mirror; the black mascara is smudged, emphasizing my blue eyes; making them deeper, darker; masking any innocence that I may usually show. My red lips are full and wanton, "the perfect mouth to suck cock." I drag my fingers through my tousled long red hair, removing the dainty clasps that hang on by barely a strand. Turning away from the mirror I walk into the wardrobe, delving into the darkness. I retrieve the clothes I had last worn, before I accepted Master's collar and entered into his service. Gathering the clothes close to my naked form, I return to the bedroom. I place the short black satin circular skirt, the white gauze blouse and wide white net petticoat upon the four poster bed. I run my hands lovingly over the garments, kicking off my blue satin shoes. My feet sink into the thick plush carpet. I move soundlessly over to the large oak carved chest of drawers, pulling the smallest compartment open, and look down upon a black lace Basque and thong panties. I'm concerned that wearing these may be taking my Master's command a little too far, but he did order me to dress as a slut and I shall fulfil his desires. Grinning devilishly, I pull out the Basque, knowing, or should I say hoping, that this may soften his resolve a little. I Slide the Basque over my head and pull it down to cling over my soft feminine curves; clutch hold of the ribbon and pull it tightly, forcing my breasts against the sheer material. My breasts are pushed up into a deep creamy cleavage; two tiny cups of lace mask my nipples. I step into the thong; the thin piece of material pulls up between my well rounded bottom cheeks. The gusset barely covers my shaven mound. I stroke myself through the silken material, still so wet. "Mmmmm, "I sigh, removing my hand before I get too carried away and forget my duties. Bending over, I slide the tan hold-ups down my legs, and kick them into a corner. I take black fish nets out of a draw and pull them quickly into place, my hands sliding down over the suspender clasps, pulling them tightly, ensuring that the seam is perfectly straight. The straps push into my soft flesh. "Perfect, "I think. I slap my rump playfully, I'm growing more confident as I adorn the outer clothes. The gauze blouse is barely hiding the jet black Basque. I fasten up the buttons to my neck, the high collar framing my oval face and step into the net skirt, so short and wide that it barely covers my stocking tops as it fans out. Slipping the black skirt over my head and letting it settle over the full white net I giggle at the irony of the white petticoat; so virginal. "Sally!" I jump as I hear my Master's voice. "Are you ready slut? " "Yes Sir, just give me a moment. " My confidence drains as I look into his cold dark eyes. Quickly stepping into the black patent stilettos, my toes cry in protest at the tight confinement I am forcing them into. I walk over to my Master for his inspection, head chastely bowed. "I am ready Sir. "My voice catches in my throat. "Not quite yet Sally." My Master's hand tilts my chin up, pulling me towards him. My heart is pounding as I prepare for his kiss; my eyes are fluttering beneath their closed lids. His hands trail softly down my neck and over my shoulders; my lips ache for his kiss, and then my eyes fly open as his hands tear at the gauze blouse, revealing the black Basque underneath; my cleavage is revealed to any that would look upon me. Any teasing sensuality is now gone from my garb. "You are a slut, Sally, a whore, and tonight you are going to be treated as such," he tells me harshly. "I want you to go to the kitchen; you're to serve my guests tonight. " His hand softly strokes my cheek, where he had struck me earlier. A deep growl is in his voice: "I cannot guarantee they will act gentlemanly to you, my sweet little submissive." Grasping my chin in his hand with a vice like grip, he forces me to look into his eyes. "˜Nor shall I prevent them from doing what they want with you. Remember this is a punishment Sally - or should I call you Tara? " I gasp as I am called by the name he first knew me by, and turn my eyes away from his; my cheeks are flushing in shame. He releases his grip on my chin. "Go now my guests are waiting, don't disappoint me slut." I nod mutely and turn towards the back stairs, feeling my Master's eyes upon me, yet when I turn to look at him; he is gone from the hallway. The kitchen was hot and humid, a writhing mass of people, bustling about with important tasks, a cacophony of yells and bashing pans. I slip into a darkened corner, terrified to step into the mayhem. "Ah there you are Cherie! " A soft hand encircles my wrist and pulls me into the light. I bow my head, casting my eyes down upon the butler's shiny black shoes. "Tsk, tsk," Henri clucks like a mother hen, "now child there's no need to bow your head in my presence." Tilting my head up and letting out an audible sigh, he reaches for a white linen handkerchief, moistens it and wipes the smeared lipstick away. I gently push Henri's hand away. I look forlornly into his soft brown eyes. He is always so caring, so tender; he is a good friend and confidante since I have come into the house. He has quite literally taken me under his wing. "What am I to do with you child! Will you never learn? You are certainly testing Sir's patience," he admonishes. I move to speak, protesting my innocence, but Henri's finger silences me. "No, no, child you are far too impetuous, learn the rule of silence, bend your will Sally. Then you will know true happiness." Henri looks down upon me sadly shaking his head. "Now take a tray of drinks and begin your punishment." I looked surprised; not realizing it was so serious that Master had informed Henri. This meant that in a while the unessential staff would be dispensed with, and then the party would really begin. Taking the tray in my hands, my nerves make the glass tinkle sharply. Henri rests his hands reassuringly upon my shoulder and presses his warm lips against my cheek, before pushing me through the door. The reception room was gaily lit, adorned with silver and gold decorations; cherubs heralding a new enterprise and angels smiling benignly down upon the guests. The men were dressed in tuxedos, a sea of black and white, which contrasted with the bright vibrant colours of the ladies. I recognise a few of the guests; and the husbands had not brought their wives. I slowly step into the milling crowd, offering champagne to any who would take it. This was not the first time I had been to one of these parties, but before I had been one of those strutting peacocks, adorned in all the finery a lady could acquire with the help of her benefactor. Sighing heavily, I realise how drastically my life had changed. I belonged to one, and with that came a responsibility that I was ill equipped to handle. I was brought back to reality as another glass was lifted from my tray. I straightened myself and breathed deeply, lifting my head up defiantly, smiling to hide my shame. My false bravado crumples as I see the glances of the men, as they take in my garb. My cheeks are flushing, I am wishing I could button up my blouse, and protect myself from the lascivious stares. I drop my eyes down to the slowly emptying tray to avoid catching the eyes of Master's guests. A neatly manicured hand stops me. "Why if it isn't Tara?" I look up on hearing a familiar voice. Inwardly I groan as I see Savannah, impeccably dressed with her neck laden with glistening diamonds. Her fingers softly stroke the cold stones; and she smiles at me. "I thought you had moved up in the world darling!" Her voice drips with sarcasm. "Now I hear you're to be tonight's entertainment!" Just as I am about to retort, I notice my Master taking Savannah's hand and kissing it, before wrapping one arm around her slim waist. He leans in and kisses her neck, not even acknowledging me. Savannah's face is a picture. She is gloating, knowing that what was mine is now hers; even if only for the evening. I stand motionless, my fingers curl around the silver tray and the knuckles go white as my stomach starts to churn. I quickly turn on my heels before I give Savannah the satisfaction of seeing the tears in my eyes. I push my way through the crowd, holding the tray high. How could my Master be so cruel: Savannah, of all the women he could have chosen, why her? Suddenly I am yanked backwards, the tray clatters to the floor as my hand flies back to clutch a hand that has entwined itself into my long red hair. "Let me go!" I cry. The stranger pulls me back against his chest. A roughly shaven chin presses down upon my shoulder. "Oh no, you don't get away that easily. Your Master has told us all what a slut you are and free to anyone this evening." The man's hands move down to my breasts, gripping them tightly. I struggle to free myself, but his grip merely tightens, crushing my soft flesh. He whispers huskily into my ear: "I want to be the first." His hands tear at the black Basque, grabbing my breasts and pulling them out of their black constraints, and his fingers viciously pinch my nipples. Ignoring my cries and struggles, he bites down upon my neck. Bending my knees I manage to slide from his grasp, stumbling slightly as I regain my balance. Desperate for freedom, I bolt towards the kitchen door. Grabbing hold of my torn Basque, I cover myself, and I stifle my sobs and reach the first step. Five more steps and then I will be safe, Henri will protect me. My foot rises, reaching up for the second step. My heart is pounding desperately. I scream as the stranger's hands grab my waist pulling me back. I start punching the hands that grip so tightly around my waist, but his strength is too much for me to handle and he drags me back into the centre of the room. I twist around, not losing my will to fight, even though the odds are against me. I lash out like a wild cat; my pointed shoe making contact with his shin. He curses and lets me go. As his fingers release my waist, I lose all balance and fall onto my knees. The commotion draws my Master's attention. As I make to stand up I see him striding towards me, and collapse back down onto my knees. I look up at him with tear filled eyes, begging desperately for his forgiveness. He does not even acknowledge me as his face sets like stone. He nods. "You may Giles; she needs to be taught a lesson." The bite of leather lands upon my back, a sharp tendril whipping against my cheek. "Master please!" Another lash strikes my back as it concaves away from the strips. I am pleading, but his face is cold, expressionless, his eyes dead. My arms buckle from under me, pressing my cheek against the cold parquet floor. I close my eyes, spread my arms wide, and lift my bottom high in the air, wincing but suppressing my cries as the whip bites down again and again and again. "Now get up slut!" I draw myself up, shifting on my knees to turn and face Giles, bowing my head in submission. "I'm sorry Sir." Without a word, a blindfold is placed over my eyes, plunging me into terrifying darkness. My ears fill with the sound of applause and jeers. I remain on my knees, looking only at the darkness. "Lets take her to the gentleman's lounge." Giles says. There is a roar of appreciation as the whip that was used for my punishment is wrapped tightly around my wrists. Hands slip under my arms, lifting me up on to my feet. My wrists are pulled forward, and I follow blindly, as unknown hands touch me and spank me as I pass, stumbling in my blindness. A hand wraps around my hair keeping me upright. Suddenly there is silence; I hear a heavy door closing and my heartbeat ringing in my ears. The whip is removed from my wrists, quickly replaced with cold metal cuffs. My arms are dragged high above my head, until I am stood barely on the tips of my toes. There is a quick jerk and the clink of metal against metal. I am left suspended, my arms stretched, my shoulders already beginning to ache. Masculine fingers fumble with the last remaining buttons of my blouse, then it is simply torn off me, making me shake, and putting more weight upon my over stretched arms. I quietly whimper as this invisible man yanks down my skirt, roughly lifts my feet and removes the skirt completely. I cease to struggle, resigning myself to whatever my Master has in store for me. I sense that I am now alone; the darkness and emptiness press down on me. I seem to hang there for an eternity as my arms grow numb and my legs shake with the effort of standing only on the balls of my feet. Suddenly, the room is filled with hushed whispers. My ears try to pick up what they are talking about; they seem to be waiting for someone or something. I hear the creak of the old oak doors slowly opening, and a low haunting chant begins. A monotonous beating of a stick against the marble floor resonates through my body. The low chant builds in volume, growing more intense, and the hypnotic rhythm of men's voices and the constant wood against marble sound fills the room, nearly overwhelming me. There is a loud final beat from the stick and silence falls once more. From the silent room, my Master's voice emanates, so warm and deep, sending shivers down my spine. "Hail, Gentlemen. Welcome to this special evening." There is a round of applause and cheers, until the room falls silent again, and my Master speaks once more: "We have our sacrifice to lust!" he pronounces, as my stomach tightens with fear and anticipation. The low rhythm begins again; the beat hard and sharp. The hypnotic tones draw closer to me, and I begin to struggle against the cuffs as fear overwhelms my anticipation. My breathing quickens as I pull against my tired muscles, trying to free the cuffs from whatever is holding them up. There is no escape for me. The chant surrounds me; I feel the breath of many upon my body, my head falls back and a moan escapes my dry lips. I wish unconsciousness will take me; free me from all the senses that have heightened since I was plunged into darkness. * * * * * What does the darkness hold for Sally? to be continued... A Sacrificial Lamb Ch. 02 Although I think each chapter can almost stand on its own, it is worth reading from the very beginning. As always your comments and votes are always appreciated. Sx * * * * * A hand pushes behind my head, which forces me to straighten. A wet finger presses upon my chin, then my cheeks and finally my forehead. The blindfold is swiftly removed as my Master declares: 'She is now a servant of Satan!' My vision is blurred, and my heart almost stops as I hear his words. I am shaking my head as many hands run over my body. I try to fix my gaze upon my Master but I am surrounded by men in long black cloaks, with black masks covering their faces. 'Master?' I whisper; my throat is drying with fear. A repetitive 'hush' escapes the cloaked men's mouths. A dozen hands slide down my body and push my legs wide apart. I lose my balance as they clamp heavy anklets upon my outstretched ankles. Moaning with pain as my arms take the strain, my head falls forward. A knife glints in the light flashing before my eyes, and it is run over my face, the steel leaving a cold trail upon my feverish flesh. The blunt side is pressing into my hips as it cuts way the flimsy material of my thong. Despite my fear, I can feel my body responding to the pain and the excitement of the precarious position I am now in. I gasp as the rough leather handle of the knife is pressed between my fleshy lips, grazing over my clitoris. I writhe against the knife, not caring that each movement causes my arm muscles to spasm. The hypnotic chant resumes and absorbs me into its will. I am moaning as I rub myself desperately over the rough leather; crying out in protest as it is taken abruptly away from my soaked pussy. With a click, the chained cuff slips from the hook that suspends it. I begin to fall. I have no control, terrified as I fear the harsh fall onto the floor. My breath is taken away; as suddenly I am caught and lifted up by many hands. My head falls back. The low guttural chant resumes as I am carried forward; the walls flicker with candlelight. My body aches, my arms shiver and tingle as the blood pours through them again. I am carried away upon a wave of emotion. Fingers press against my body. I have the sensation of floating, and my eyes close as I succumb to the spell that is being weaved. My world is slipping into the darkness that I cherish; that I have longed for. I feel the cold marble as I am laid upon a tall altar. My revived arms are once more drawn above my head. I hear the sound of metal being wrapped around a hook, which makes me shiver. Hands stroke my hair, and then pull it up to spread it over the black altar. Soft lips press against my own; a tongue invades my parched mouth. I return the kiss eagerly, not knowing whose lips I am kissing; this mystery evoking a carnal pleasure inside of me. Then in my ear my Master whispers: 'This is what I have been waiting for Sally; for you to truly belong. This is not a punishment my pet, it is your initiation into Satan's service.' His voice leaves me; the lips still press hungrily against mine, and my head is spinning. Confused by my Masters words, I try to stop the kiss. I twist my head away, crying out: 'Master I don't like this game! I want to use my safe word!' A hush descends upon the room, Master's recognisable chuckle begins as he moves to my side, his face still covered. I look up at him. 'Please Master, release me, I will service all the men you chose for me as you desire, but this talk of Satan, it is silly, you're scaring me.' A slap stings my cheek. His hand grips my jaw painfully, forcing me to look at his blank face again. His eyes burn like blue fire. I whimper. 'My safe word Master, your scaring me.' The rhythm of wood upon stone begins again, accompanied by the low chant. The candle flicker as a warm breeze pervades the room. His free hand strokes my forehead soothingly. 'I am sorry pet your safe word is of no use now.' His jaw clenches, his grip loosening on my jaw. 'You have been chosen Sally, it has been decided. You have no choice, but I suggest you submit willingly to your future, it will be far easier for you.' His voice is hushed and tense. 'For once bend your beautiful will, for I will be unable to help you.' He releases my jaw and kisses me softly. 'Remember I do love you.' 'Master, Master please I don't understand.' My words have no effect as he turns his back on me, walks around the altar and stands before the crowd of men. Master raises his arms, palms turned upwards. He speaks over the chant that has grown louder: 'Gentleman the time has come to offer up the sacrifice to Satan. Our gift to He who has given us so much. Without him we would all be nothing.' The chant is so loud now. I struggle desperately against my chains as Master's voice grows louder. His head falls back as he calls out to Satan. I scream at him to stop, but my protests fall on deaf ears. The chains clash heavily against the cold stone as I writhe. 'Satan take this sacrifice as your own, use her for your pleasure, and assuage your lust upon her mortal form.' The candles flare and then extinguish, plunging us all into darkness. The chanting stops. I turn my head. My eyes grow accustomed to the dark, as I see the men fall down to their knees, covering the floor with the black velvet of their cloaks. A single torch light flickers and moves between the men. Some collapsing down onto their sides with audible groans. 'Master, please Master, Master!' I cry. The light drawing closer and suddenly I feel such relief, the ordeal would be over soon. A light throws shadows over one face, which is still recognisable. 'Henri, oh Henri, thank God, Master has gone mad.' I look over to my Master who is now also kneeling in supplication to his own Master: Satan. 'Please Henri, release me, I'm scared.' Henri walks towards me steadily; his feet making no noise on the velvet cloaks. 'Don't worry my Cherie, your perfectly safe now, so hush child.' I rest my head back down on the marble altar, knowing that Henri's words are true. He has always been there for me. He will save me from my master's insanity. My breathing steadies as Henri draws me close to him, stroking my face with his soft hands. 'Tsk, tsk child, always getting into trouble, what am I going to do with you?' I laugh in relief, half aware that the slow chant is starting again. I try to pull my hands up so that Henri can see that I am cuffed. 'Please Henri release me quickly, I don't know what is wrong with Master, but I want to leave here as soon as possible. 'Hush, hush child, all in good time all in good time.' Henri turns his back on me. 'Henri?' I notice the chant rising louder, as the men stand up from their knelt positions. 'Henri, quickly please release me, I don't think we have much time.' He turns back to me as the candles are re-ignited. 'We have all the time in the world Sally.' His voice is no longer soft and gentle as he draws the torch down; the shadows play tricks with my eyes. 'Henri?' Panic fills my heart as Henri's face changes, his features becoming more angular, his eyes deepening. Gone the kindly face of a faithful butler. 'Oh God, Henri!' 'There is no God Sally, only Satan,' he laughs. I scream with all my might, doubling my efforts to escape from the constraints. 'No, no, not you Henri, not you.' Tears stream down my cheeks as he moves towards me. My Master stands just behind him. Taking the torch from Henri, Master holds it high above his head as he moves towards me. My body wracked with sobs, and I turn my face away, hoping that if I just close my eyes, shut it out, it will all be a bad dream. That's it, a bad dream. 'Please God someone wake me.' A dark heavy breath dances over my ear. 'There is no God to help you Sally, this isn't a dream,' Satan growls. 'You have brought this upon yourself Sally, your spirit is far too strong to be ignored. Your Master chose well and I have waited long enough for you, it is now time for you to become mine.' Henri's face draws close to mine, and some irrational impulse forces me to break into hysterical laughter; tears stream down my cheeks. Shaking my head, Henri pauses. His hand hovers by my cheek. I gasp for breath and turn my face to look at my Master, who is still holding the torch aloft. 'It's alright Master I understand now, I've learnt my lesson, and I will be a well behaved servant to you Master.' I lift my chained hands up to Henri again, waiting for him to release me, but my submission is met with only silence. Henri still stares down at me. 'Master you can release me now that I have learnt my lesson.' Silence is again the only answer. A note of uncertainty enters my voice.' Master? It's over now. I understand, you can let me go.' I shake my heavy chains, trying to get some sort of reply. Henri's hand rests upon my cheek, stroking it softly. 'Please Henri, the joke has gone far enough, don't you think?' A quiet hush comes from his lips, as his hand strokes my skin softly, tenderly; his thumb runs over my lips; I press my cheek into his hand. 'Please Henri, I'm tired, I want to go to my room.' Henri's thumb slides past my bottom lip, and presses against my tongue. His hand grips my chin, which he sharply tilts up. Leaning forward his tongue slides over my lips and nose. I try to move away from his tongue, but his thumb presses harder down upon my tongue and his fingers curl tightly under my chin. His breath is heavy. Henri removes his tongue from my face, but does not relieve the pressure of his hand upon my chin. The thumb curves down into the soft flesh of my tongue. He makes me squirm with discomfort, which forces tears from my eyes. I cry out as he drags his thumb nail over my tongue. My back is arching up, until a hand presses against my stomach, forcing me down again. Henri releases my jaw, and his thumb leaves my mouth. I watch as he puts the finger in his mouth and sucks it. A strange taste of copper fills my own mouth, as suddenly I almost choke as my own blood slides down my throat. True fear hits me hard. I whimper. 'Henri, please.' His slap upon my already tender cheek is so hard that I start to lose consciousness. Just before blackness consumes me totally I hear Henri order: 'Make the girl ready...NOW!' ***** What will happen next to poor sweet Sally? A Sacrificial Lamb Ch. 03 A soft warm flannel drawn over my forehead slowly rouses me into consciousness. I open my heavy eyes and sit up abruptly, my arms no longer fettered by heavy chains. Gentle hands push me back to lie down once more; the scent of a woman pervades my nostrils. 'Shush Sally it's ok, calm down.' I breathe a sigh of relief, so happy to hear her voice. 'Savannah?' I choke. My tongue is so swollen. I'm trying to focus my eyes on her as she continues to caress my face with the flannel. There are more hushed female voices in the room as I turn my head groggily, trying to regain my bearings. But these walls are unfamiliar to me, covered as they are with red damask. Candles, the only light, throw shadows of feminine silhouettes onto the dark walls. 'What happened Savannah?' I croak 'Has Master truly gone insane?' Savannah's light laugh is a relief. 'No honey, he's not insane, he's fine, you just lay back and relax, we'll look after you, don't worry.' 'But?' Savannah silences my question with a kiss, her lips as sensuous as I remembered. I sigh as I experience the familiar welcome of her kiss. I part my own lips and her tongue flicks over my own swollen muscle. I wince as she removes her tongue and plays with my lips. Her hand is stroking my hair. I lift my arms, wrapping them around her shoulders, needing comfort. Forgetting that we had not parted on the best of terms, I am comforted by the wonderful sensations she gives me when we are together. She chuckles into my mouth, and removes my arms from around her. Sitting back up she resumes brushing my skin with the flannel. I lay back and relax, feeling so safe. Her hands run over my naked form, occasionally lifting to dip the flannel into the warm scented water; the drip of the water loud in the silent room. I sigh as she runs the cloth over my aching breasts, as I arch up to greet her ministrations. But, she moves on, gently parts my legs and refreshes the cloth. I moan as she presses it against my pussy lips, parts them and washes my cunt. The cloth tickles my bud. 'Oh Savannah,' I sigh happily. Her hands drift down my thighs, leaving me tingling, wanting more. 'Part your legs for me Sally,' she whispers into my ear. I spread them immediately, hoping to feel her mouth upon my opening. I gasp in shock as I feel foam being massaged over my dark mound of hair. 'Now stay still for this Sally, we don't want to cut you now do we?' I look up and see Savannah holding a razor in her hand. 'Your Master wants you nice and smooth Sally.' 'My Master? But he likes my pussy hair, he said so!' I sit up quickly shutting my legs. Savannah looks at me patiently her brown eyes dancing with mirth. 'You don't get it Sally, do you? You were always a bit naive. We can either do this the easy way now, or the hard way, either way is fine by me.' She stares at me intently. Her eyes flicking over my shoulder. Her small hands grab me around the neck, squeezing tightly as I am pulled back down. Other hands drag my legs apart. I am struggling desperately. 'Master likes me this way' I protest! 'Oh for fucks sake gag the stupid whore,' she says. Some sort of ball is quickly shoved into my mouth. It has straps on it which are pulled tightly. This forces my mouth wide open, and the ball presses against my sore tongue. My legs are strapped down with leather belts. The hands are still pressing around my throat and my chest is heaving up and down as I struggle to breathe. 'Now listen up you stupid cow,' says Savannah, as she hitches up her expensive gown and kneels between my legs. The razor glides over my mons. 'I used to be so jealous that you got all of Andrews's attention, he only ever seemed to have eyes for you. I did everything I could to stop it, but he was intent on having you. I could never figure out why, you never knew how to play the game.' She pauses as she rinses the razor off and looking at me; all mirth has gone from her eyes. 'You with your I'm Miss Sweet and innocent attitude,' she snorts, as she resumes ridding me of the soft hair Master had so dearly loved burying his face into. I listen to her in morbid fascination. 'But, he explained it all to me last night, when you had been such a stupid cunt.' I look shocked, when he left he said he had had business to attend to, but he had gone to Savannah. I moan behind the ball gag. 'That's right honey; you knew he had others, but you didn't know he had me did you?' Her laugh is hollow in my ears. She shifts her position, leaning down inspecting my cunt. 'To be honest, I should thank you. I got the best deal. I wouldn't be in your position, no matter how much money was offered. He didn't even need to pay you, did he Sally?' The water sloshes in the bowl as one of the other women refills it. Savannah refreshes the razor. As she pulls my lips apart, I want to ask her what she is talking about. Master Andrew loves me, and I know that what she was saying didn't make any sense. She continues as I feel the razor softly moving over my skin. 'You broke the cardinal rule; you fell in love with a client,' arrogantly. She waves the razor in front of my eyes, before dipping it once more in the water. 'How many times had I told you?' she says, shaking her head. I was growing impatient to discover what she was talking about. Sighing, she continues; each stroke of the razor a dagger driving deep into my heart. 'Andrew explained that you were everything that he needed. Oh, at first I thought he was going to tell me that he was going to marry you and that our arrangement was through. I was so shocked when he told me the truth.' Someone in the room giggled and Savannah shot her a warning glance. 'Did you ever wander where Andrew got his wealth from Sally?' I shake my head, I had never needed to ask, and my love for him was enough. 'Well maybe you should have asked, instead of following him so blindly!' Her fingers part my ass cheeks, and she rubs more foam down my crack. 'Let me tell you how he got his wealth Sally. I could say he sold his soul, but he's far too clever to do that, and its all so cliché!' The razor is dragging down my inner ass cheeks. 'Let's just say he made a deal; something beneficial to both parties. You aren't the first Sally, but I do wonder if you will be the last?' She releases my ass cheeks and runs her fingers over my now bald mound, pouring clean warm water over the skin. Clicking her fingers, a towel and oil is offered to her. She takes the towel and dries me like a baby, before applying the oil to my skin, moving her fingers between my lips and down into my ass crack. 'Now Sally, I will release you if you promise to quit this pointless struggle and I will continue to explain your situation.' I nod my head; the fingers loosen on my neck, unclasping the ball gag. Savannah herself releases the three leather straps that have bound my legs. I lift my legs up to my chest, rubbing my jaw. I look at Savannah waiting for her to finish her story. 'You are part of something so much bigger than even I can understand, love.' There is a tinge of pity in her voice as she continues to speak. 'But putting it simply Andrew....' 'Master Andrew!' I interrupt her. 'He's only Master Andrew to you Sally. Let me continue, we haven't much time.' 'Sorry.' 'Andrew has sold you to Henri. Don't say a word not until I have finished. Now stand up, we need to dress you.' I rise up from the soft bench I have been lying upon. The women bringing forth a costume of leather straps. I Stand perfectly still as the women place the intricate web of leather over my body, lifting my arms to slide them through the thin straps and kicking my legs apart to draw the leather between the joins of my legs. There is a clicking noise as buckles are fastened. Savannah stands before me watching with approval, ensuring each strap is perfectly placed. 'You know, I really think Andrew does love you Sally, but his lust for power and money is far too strong. In his upset, he told me he could never give that up, no matter how much he cared for someone.' Her eyes glaze over as she continues to speak. I watch her intently, still wondering whether what she has told me is a bunch of lies, but her face shows no tell tale signs. 'He was such a sweet and tender lover that night...' She shrugs her shoulders, walking behind me as the other women leave me, her hand pulling at my hair, dragging a hairbrush through the tangled mess. My head jerks back with each downward stroke. 'So much like you Sally, desperate for affection and tenderness.' I wince as the brush gets tangled in a strand. 'But, he can't have that, there is always a price to pay; and if he can't have it nor can the woman he loves.' Soft tears fall from my closed eyes, understanding my Master more, but not loving him any less. 'There must be some way Savannah, someway I can make him see that he doesn't need to do this: I love him.' She spins me round looking directly at me. 'It's to late you stupid slut, your fate has been decided. Don't you understand Andrew can never love you the way you love him. If you love him as much as you say you do, and then you will do this for him, and maybe there will be a chance of you two being together?' She strokes my face softly, turns me back around and draws my hair up tightly into a ponytail. My scalp is aching from the tension as she ties it tightly. She pushes me in front of a full length mirror, and I do not recognize the image that assaults my eyes. I turn my face away, but Savannah makes me turn back and look at myself. My hair is drawn tightly back, the pony tail brushing softly over my shoulders. My face pale is void of make up. My body is totally on display; my breasts framed by leather straps that pull between and around forcing them forward into full orbs of flesh; the nipples are perfectly centered. My bald pussy open to view, high-lighted by the jet black straps which sit either side of it. Savannah's hand slides over my rump, squeezing the cheek. 'Perfect,' she purrs, 'a few final touches and you shall be ready.' She walks away from me, leaving me standing in front of the mirror. I am barely able to recognize myself, but I don't feel ashamed. I lift my shoulders, pushing my breasts forward. 'That's it Sally, hold it right there.' I freeze as Savannah stands behind me. Her hands slide over my breasts, pinching my nipples between her fingers, making them stand to attention. Then, she produces a bright red lipstick, presses it over my gnarled buds and paints them red. Sliding around me, her breasts pressing against my shoulders, she turns my head. She brushes the red over my nude lips as I feel her shaping a Cupid's bow. She falls onto her knees and slaps my inner thighs, forcing me to open my legs wide. Her fingers push apart my cunt lips as she drags the lipstick over the lips. Her finger drags over my clit, making me shudder. 'Oh pet, so wet,' she laughs as she stands up. A red sheer cloak is draped over my shoulders. 'It's time now Sally, are you ready?' I look at myself once more in the mirror. Savannah whispers in my ear. 'Its your own fault Sally. Your Master tried everything to prevent this, but you wouldn't behave, you brought yourself to Henri's attention.' I bow my head, shamed by her words. 'Now try for once to make your Master proud. Give yourself over to Satan.' My stomach lurches as I hear her speak of Henri as Satan. I suppress a sob and look at her with my wide blue eyes. 'Cut the crap Sally, we all know what you are, why do you always have to pretend otherwise?' She takes my hand and grips it tightly. My bare feet pad quietly over the thick carpet. 'That's it Sally, give yourself over.' Two large doors swing open, I hesitate and Savannah pulls me forward. 'I advise you not to fight it, or it will be far worse for you; besides from what Andrew told me I have heard things.' Her voice is ominous, sending shivers down my spine. Standing at the dark entrance, she shoves me forward. The doors shut quickly behind me, plunging me into darkness. to be continued... A Sacrificial Lamb Ch. 04 The sound of the heavy doors closing behind me reverberate around the room. I turn back feeling my way over the dark carvings, searching for the handles. My hands finally touch the twisted metal. I wrap my fingers tightly round them and draw them down, trying to pull the doors open. Beyond the thick wood I hear muffled laughter, and the doors refuse to yield. I bang my fists against the doors, yelling to be let out. My efforts are in vain as the laughing disappears. Resting my head against the warm wood, I breathe deeply, fighting the fear that is welling up inside of me. The silence that surrounds me is so oppressive that I have to do something, anything, to distract myself. I step away from the door and wrap the red cloak around me. The material is so soft it offers me no comfort as I walk forward, my naked feet making no noise upon the floor, one hand reaching out in front of me, trying to feel my way through the darkness. Each step is hesitant, but nothing obstructs my way. I continue onwards, some force pushing me, in the hope I may find an exit out of this nightmare. I hear a soft click behind me. I stop walking; my ears fight against the sound of my own heart beat, trying to distinguish where the noise had come from. My fingers curl in the soft sheer material, as I hesitatingly call out. 'Hello?' Silence replies. 'Is anyone there?' I hold my breath, hoping for reply. Nothing. My only company is the darkness. I continue onwards humming to myself softly under my breath to fill the aching hole. I had never liked silence, being happier in the bedlam of noise. I wonder to myself why I have been put in here. There is nothing barring me from moving forward so I must arrive at a door soon. This room couldn't be endless, could it? I spin on my heels as I hear another click this time so much closer. 'Hello?' Another click. I squint my eyes, trying to see where the noise is coming from and who is making it, but the darkness is too heavy. I step back as the clicking begins again, drawing closer. With each click I step back, trying to keep my distance. One click... two clicks.... My heart desperately pounds against my chest. I gasp, as my feet step upon cold stone. The clicking quickens, my feet following suit, until they stop; the silence resumes. I take one more step and then stop myself; I am breaking out into a cold sweat. 'Please show yourself?' 'She's here, she's here, she's here,' a hushed whisper begins, surrounding me; the voices join as one. I spin around and around trying to pinpoint where they are. Their voices grow louder and laughter intermingles. 'Stop it! Stop it!' I cry out, unable to take anymore as I collapse down onto the hard stone floor and cover my ears. My body shakes involuntarily. I sob. 'Stop it, stop it, please,' I whimper, rocking back and forth, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. A warm hand rests upon my shoulders, making me yelp in shock. I scramble to stand up. The hand takes my elbow and draws me up. My Master's voice is like a beacon of saving light. 'It's alright Sally.' I grasp, and take hold of his hand. 'Master is it really you?' My hands seek his solid form blindly, and I breath a sigh of relief as he gathers me into his arms. 'I'm so sorry, truly I am.' His hand gently strokes my cheek. I look up towards his face but am met only by a mask. I draw a shaking hand up to pull away the mask to see and to know that it is him behind the mask. His face is so pale; his blue eyes glazed, as he mindlessly strokes my cheek. 'Master?' I grab his shoulders shaking him. His face shows no flicker of emotion. 'Master what's wrong with you?' Suddenly, a spotlight shines down upon us, and I see how pale my Master his. His skin is cold to the touch. I wrap my arms around him, pressing my body against his, and try to warm him. 'Oh Andrew what have you done?' I cry into his stone like chest. A single clap breaks the silence that had surrounded my Master and I. Henri stepping into the circle of light. No longer wearing his butler uniform, he is dressed in a black suit with a red shirt which shines brightly in the light. His face is a picture of smug satisfaction. As he stands, just at the edge of the circle, I shake Master, desperately trying to rouse him from his hypnotic state. 'It's no use Sally,' Henri purrs, his voice laced with impatience. 'He's beyond your reach now.' He turns his gaze over to my Master. 'Kneel Andrew!' Master breaks away from my arms and slips down onto his knees and his eyes connect with Henri. I pull at my Master's arm, trying to get him to rise. I cry out desperately. 'Master, please, you kneel for no man!' Henri laughs in glee. 'Such an innocent child. Sally, you know nothing!' I release my Master's arm and it flops loosely down to his side. I turn and walk towards him as anger burns deep inside of me. I don't care that the cloak floats behind me displaying my strapped body. The light makes my skin so pale, and the red rouge Savannah had placed upon me glimmers. Henri's smug face angered me so much that rational thought flies out of the window. I am propelled into some form of action. I lash out as I draw close, my hand impacting with Henri's cheek. His head is pushed to the side. My breath is heavy as I stare at him. Stepping closer to my Master. I scream out: 'Let Andrew go!' Henri rubs his jaw as he turns his face, back to me. Grinning sardonically he moves towards me with slow, steady steps. I stand my ground, my fists clenched ready to hit him again and again if necessary. 'Such a wild cat Sally, but do you really think you can resist me?' His confidence unnerves me, but I gather myself. 'Master owes you nothing!' Henri stops and glares at me. 'That is where you are wrong Sally,' he roars. 'He owes me everything! YOU are the price I am willing to take!' My confidence grows as I see how I have angered him. I crouch down beside Andrew and stroke his face. 'You cannot take what isn't yours!' I spit back. Henri's head falls back and a loud dragging groan escapes his throat. I shake Andrew again, needing his support, but still I get no response. Henri shrugs his shoulders, straightens his jacket and lifts his head. 'Did you not listen to Savannahs advice Sally? Are you truly so stupid?' I rise up, standing in front of my Master. 'I love him; you can't do this to us.' My words sound feeble as Henri grabs me harshly, cutting into the flesh of my arms. His face is only inches from mine. 'This could have been so simple Sally, but now you have sealed both your Master's and yours fate!' His spit lands on my face. My face grows pale as a horrid realization hits me and Savannah's words coming back to me: 'Your Master tried everything to prevent this.' He did love me, but what had I done? 'Henri, Henri please, I don't care what you do to me, but please, please I beg of you don't hurt Andrew.' Henri's nails dig into my arms, and as he spins me round to face Andrew two masked men drag him up to his feet. They pull away the cloak and reveal his body, naked apart from a black leather collar attached to his neck. Henri presses his face against my neck and inhales my fear as if it were some aphrodisiac. 'See your Master now Sally. See how frail and pathetic he is.' 'No, no, no,' I moan as tears stream down my cheeks. The men drag Andrew off into the darkness. I try to pull away, but Henri's grip is tight. 'There is a way you can save him my sweet, quit this futile struggle, bend to my will and your Master shall be returned to his proper place.' 'I can't, I can't,' I cry. I crumble down onto my knees. Henri looks down upon me with satisfaction. How could I let this happen? To see my Master in this harsh light tears my heart apart. How could I give myself over to Satan, when I had given myself to my Master heart and soul? My head is dragged sharply back as Henri twists his hand in my ponytail. He hisses into my ear. 'You have no choice bitch!' He throws me brutally down onto the stone floor. 'The time has come, oh followers of black Satan, for us to feast upon this pathetic piece of flesh!' More masked bodies enter the circle of light and grab hold of my arms and legs, flipping me onto my back like a rag doll, pulling me so that my arms and legs are stretched out as thick metal manacles clamp down. Someone unclasps the cloak. A grinding noise begins as I struggle. The floor rises up beneath me and the cloak slides down over the edges of the star shaped pedestal. Henri is prowling around me as I rise up, until the mechanics shudder me to a stop. 'You don't have to give in willingly Sally; I shall take what is mine.' Henri draws a knife over my face, the metal shining into my eyes. He is going to kill me! I start to scream. Henri's laughter rings in my ears. 'That's it; scream for your new Master!' He presses the blunt edge of the knife against my neck. It is so cold against my fevered skin. I know screaming is futile, but I scream even louder, fighting against the metal constraints that bind me. 'Oh yes Sally that's it! Scream scream for Satan!' The knife is drawn over my breasts and twists as I feel the sharp edge graze over my fragile flesh, parting the skin, making blood ooze from the wound. My back is arching up in anguish as Henri presses his lips against the open wound and draws my blood into his mouth. 'So sweet.' His warm breath blows over my nipples, making them rise. His hand takes my left breast and squeezes it, forcing more blood to flow from the wound. I look at him with his mouth smeared with my blood. It repulses me, but I cannot drag my eyes away from him, and he brings his lips close to mine, opening his mouth. His hand clamps on my jaw, forcing it open, as he lets my still warm blood flow into my mouth. He rears up roaring. His arms stretch out and he pulls away the shirt. His body is daubed with satanic tattoos, and his nipples are painted black. The masked men run to him, ripping the clothes away from his body. 'Henri,' I sob, my mouth full of bitter bile. As he looks down at me a tiny flicker of the Henri I once knew dances over his face, and his voice is soft once again. 'You would have given yourself to Henri wouldn't you?' I shake my head, 'you were my friend.' His hand crashes down upon my cheek. 'Don't lie to me Sally.' His voice is low as the brutal hand strokes my cheek. 'You open your legs to any sort of kindness that is why you are so attractive, still so innocent and pure. But now it is time for you to become the servant of desire and lust. I am going to break you Sally; you are never going to be the same.' His hand encircle my bare throat, and he squeezes against my wind pipe as he looks deep into my eyes. I am choking for breath as tears spring forth from my ducts. Henri licks my tears away. My protests are trapped deep within my soul. He presses his hand against my left breast, digging his fingers into the wound, lifts the bloodied hand up and offers it to his faithful disciples. They descend upon the hand, fighting between themselves to suck Satan's fingers. Others kneel around him, kissing and licking his skin. I twist my head away, fighting my own body. The site of his followers' tasting the blood oddly arouses me. 'Enough!' he shouts, his followers scattering away, as he turns his attention back to me. I lift my eyes to see him towering over me, naked, his manhood standing proud, red and angry. My stomach tightening with a mixture of fear and trepidation. He takes my face tilting it up and presses his lips against mine, his tongue invading my mouth, his hands softly stroking up and down my neck, the nails dragging over my tension. Touching my most receptive and sensitive nerves. My eyes fluttering closed, my fingers releasing themselves from their tight fists. Joining my swollen tongue with his, his groan breathing life into my body. Sighing as he breaks the kiss, my lips feeling abandoned, my neck tingling desperate for the touch of his nails against my flesh. He walks away from me. My mind didn't register the bite of the lash the first time it struck upon my torso. The shock was almost unbearable, as it struck over my breasts, torso and legs. One tail flicking over my sensitive bald mound. Crying out, my throat growing hoarse, my pale skin rising up with stripes of bright red welts. The assault upon my unprotected body, making me writhe and twist, but there was no escape from the vicious torrents of snake thin leather. 'Master! Master!' I wail as the lash focuses on my breasts, the ends of the whip gleaming with fresh blood from my open wound. 'Who is your Master Sally' Satan hisses into my ear. 'Master Andrew!' I whimper 'Wrong answer.' He purrs stroking my face, his hand cool upon my fevered skin. 'How delightful' His voice soft insinuating into my nerves. I bend my neck tilting my head up looking up at him with tear glazed eyes. He clicks his fingers. 'Look up Sally, look up and see your Master now!' His fingers pressing down on my chin, breaking our gaze. As I am forced to look up, my master, Andrew descends his body wrapped with thick silver chains. Red stripes matching my own all over his body, some had even broke the skin, small drops of blood forming along the welts. I look back at Satan as I now knew him, Henri had gone completely, this man that was abusing my Master and I was a stranger a vicious, sadistic, stranger. He smiles down at me, lifting his hand and clicking his fingers. The lash bites down once more across my hips. As I scream I hear my Master moan, a red welt rising up exactly where the whip had struck my body, just above his forced erection; caused by the leather cock ring surrounding the base of his shaft. 'No!' 'Oh yes Sally, he shall feel every bit of your punishment, every whip lash, every twist of your nipple' to prove his power, he pinches my areola, twisting and pulling it between his fingers. My Master bucking wildly against his chains, the rattles mingling with his anguished moans. I could not take my Masters pain as well as my own, sobbing desperately, having no option but to submit to Satan. 'Stop it, stop it please' Drawing a ragged breath 'I'll do anything, just free my Master!' Satan wags his finger, his eyebrow raised mockingly. 'I mean Andrew, free Andrew.' I correct myself quickly. 'Do you give yourself over to your new Master Satan?' There was no other choice; to refuse would not only mean my suffering but Master Andrews as well. I had to sacrifice myself to Satan to save him. My voice barely a whisper. 'Yes Henri, I give myself over to Satan.' My blue eyes filling with tears as I look up once more at my Master, no, I mean Andrew, his body was slowly being lowered, drowning in his wounded dark brown eyes. The pain of the experience etched upon his face, I break our gaze, turning my face away, biting my lip. The pain little relief from the guilt I now felt. Henri leans forward his tongue sliding over my ear. 'You have made the right choice Sally, Master is proud of you.' 'Thank you Master.' my voice tinged with regret 'Please will you now release me?' Henri draws my earlobe between his teeth, grinding the soft flesh between his sharp teeth, his breathing heavy. 'Now why should I do that slut?' He growls 'You are mine to use as I please!' Part of me still wanted to fight to prove Henri wrong, that I only belonged to Master Andrew and could never serve another. His closeness was making my stomach churn as his tongue slides down over my neck. I was sure he could feel my body tensing as his tongue hesitated briefly for a moment, my heart skipped a beat. Then I felt his teeth tearing into my flesh, I opened my mouth to scream but his hand covered my mouth muffling my terror. I struggled desperately against my binds, my body bucking wildly. Hands pushed my hips back down, forcing me to be still. My chest heaving heavily with the effort to breathe through Henris hand as he continued to suck at my neck, I felt a strange sensation emanating from where Henris teeth had pierced my skin, I could feel the blood flowing into his mouth, sapping me of my strength, my screams turning to whimpers, struggling to remain conscious, my eyes fluttering closed. I feel the hands moving from my hips, running over my stomach, lips kissing my breasts, so many, so many. Henri removes his hand from my mouth, I was relieved to be able to breath freely once more, my eyes closing completely as I feel Henri drawing away from my neck, the many lips and tongues teasing and tasting my flesh, to weak to protest, nor really wishing to, each touch sending a small jolt of pleasure through my aching body. I am brought back to consciousness with a quick slap across my cheek, my eyes shooting open, Henris face leering over me, his mouth covered in my blood. 'Oh God!' I moan as his face draws closer to me. 'Yes I am your God now Sally and you taste so sweet. A true blood maiden.' His lips so close to mine I can smell the stench of copper, my blood upon his lips. Whimpering helplessly, trying to move my head away from his descending lips. His hands clenching my head in a vice like grip, tears streaming from my eyes, there is no escape as he presses his lips against mine, forcing my mouth open his blood stained tongue stroking mine, the taste of blood infiltrating my senses, I expected my taste buds to reject this alien liquid, but as Henri kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth and coating my tongue with blood, all thoughts of revulsion were ripped from my mind. My brain registering fingers pressing against the soft folds of flesh that protect my sensitive clit, moaning into Henri's mouth. My body bombarded with a mixture of conflicting emotions responding to the touches and caresses I was unable to prevent. Henri releases his tight grip upon my face, lifting his lips slightly away from mine; I immediately lift my head up to his seeking his lips with a desperate need. But he denies me the contact with a chortle, looking down into my passion crazed eyes, drawing his fingers over my neck and then placing them into my mouth. No longer caring that I am drinking my own blood, I eagerly suck and lick at his fingers, drawing his fingers deep into my mouth, grazing the flesh with my teeth, my moans growing more abandoned as fingers explore my aching pussy lips, the fingers sliding over the lips with ease, occasionally, teasingly sliding between, nails grazing the hooded clit. Henri withdraws his now clean saliva soaked fingers, my mouth achingly empty. He obviously notices my look of disappointment; he smiles softly as he leans forward. 'Lick my face clean slut' He breathes quietly into my ear. At the same moment fingers delve into my wet passage, making me writhe against my constraints in delight. 'That's it pet, let yourself go, give yourself over to me.' Henri growls, his hot breath tickling my ear. 'Yes, Yes master!' I moan, sliding my tongue over his lips, lapping up the now dried blood that rests on his chin and cheeks. He presses his face against my tongue making it difficult for me to move, his hands running down my shoulders and over my breasts, his nails dragging over the open wound, making me squeal as the pain is mixed by the pleasure being given to me through the stranger's fingers. 'You are going to experience such delights Sally, I am going to invade all your senses, your mind will be mine, and you will not be able to hide anything from me.' His hands now massaging my breasts, the nails digging deep into the soft flesh, my nipples responding, rising into small tight buds of rose red, pressing against his palms. An animalistic instinct takes over me I bite at his cheek that still presses tightly against my tongue, my teeth scraping over the taut flesh. He jerks away from me, growling. 'Careful Sally.' A Sacrificial Lamb Ch. 04 My heart pounding in my ears, I look at him with wild lust, my cunt aching as the fingers explore it, struggling against my constraints, wanting to be free to join in the game. 'Master, release me, please!' I beg desperate, for freedom 'I'll be good I promise.' A hint of shame in the whiny desperate need that I am displaying, but unable to stop myself. Henris hand strokes my face in what could be taken for a loving gesture. 'Oh no Sally, you have to learn, you will give yourself over completely to my power. ' 'I have Master, I have!' I protest, my body screaming out to be touched and used, my cunt aching to be filled. With a sharp click of Henris fingers all sensations cease, the tongue and fingers removed from my body. I whimper in desperate need for those sensations, writhing on the cold stone cross, I pull against the steel manacles as I look up at Henri. His eyes are cold diamonds staring down at me. 'Please Master, fuck me!' I plead, my voice hoarse 'Take me now, make me yours!' Henri turns away from me, his bare back a knot of tense muscles, the black satanic tattoos rippling on his skin. His footsteps echo on the stone floor, his footsteps joined by others. 'No-no don't leave me!' The lights begin to dim all around the pedestal, until only one bright spotlight is shining over me, the brightness stinging my eyes, I squint, not wanting to go back into darkness, I turn my head to seek out anyone to relieve me of the pressure of desire that has taken over my body. I have never felt this way before! It was worse than any scratch that ever needed itching. The cold stone making me shiver as I rub my ass, moving my hips up and down vainly imagining a cock filling up my hungry cunt. It was no use, but still I kept rocking my hips, my pussy slick with my juices, I could feel them sliding down between my ass cheeks. I clench and unclench my hands, the cold grip of the metal only heightening my desire. The pain in my neck and breast turning to a dull ache as my body starts to begin the slow process of healing itself. My whimpers now moans of frustration as I am left alone, with no way to touch myself. The passion that burns so harshly inside of me building into anger and frustration. 'Damn you, you bastard!' I mutter; the tenseness in my body slowly starts to fade as nothing I can do can fulfill my body's needs. The silence established itself once more, only the sound of my breathing to keep me company. He had left me alone and I hated it, especially as I could not escape, why was he doing this to me? Thoughts run through my mind, I try to peace together what has happened to me in such a short space of time. Yet no answers come easily to me. I knew I didn't deserve this punishment, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I had tried to fight, but to no avail. Henri used my Master like he was a puppet, my mind recoils at the burnt image in my mind of my Master being whipped, yet there was no whip to be seen, but still the marks appeared on his body. How could that happen? I had always doubted the teachings of the church, despite being brought up in a very religious home; my very rebellion had brought me into my Masters waiting arms. Henri called himself Satan yet how could I believe that, if I didn't believe in God? My body was growing colder by the minute, as I lay prone upon the star cross, small goose bumps rising up all over my body. The fire that had burned so strongly, becoming a distant memory as my predicament made itself felt. Tears slowly begin to run down my cheeks as I once again struggle in vain to free myself.