"Why are you being punished, Rae?"

"Please, let me down-"

The movement was sudden. He struck her cheek with his open hand, the sound sharp and explosive in her ear. "Another fucking word that isn't a direct response to a question and I'll gag you, got it? You aren't going to be let down until you're done receiving your punishment. Now answer the question. Why are you being punished?"

"I-I don't know." Rae's mind was whirling, her heart beating high in her throat.

Sam leaned in close so she could feel his breath on her cheek. She tried to turn her head away, but the belt restricted the movement. She closed her eyes.

"It's because you spoke out of turn, Rae. You can't seem to keep your fucking mouth shut."

He stepped back, again flicking the whip in the air, the leather braid so close she could feel the swish of air it caused near her thigh. In spite of her fear, Rae stared at the little whip, mesmerized. At last she tore her gaze away to look at Sam, who was smiling, a slow, easy smile that would have been sexy if his eyes weren't so hard.

"You said this morning I couldn't just tie you up and give you thirty lashes, remember?"

Was it really only this morning? Only this morning that she'd awoken, thinking about how in just another few weeks she'd finally be out of the jam she'd backed herself into? Was it only this morning she'd blithely sailed into Sam's office, only to be blindsided by his accusations and ultimatums?

Another slap to her cheek jerked Rae back to the present. "Answer. The. Question."

"Yes!" Rae gasped. "Yes, I remember."

"And you were wrong, weren't you?"

God, I fucking hate you. "Yes."

Sam nodded, cocking an eyebrow. "Thirty days, thirty lashes. I like it. That's what you'll get now. Thirty lashes, one for each day you are here. You'll count for me. Count out loud each stroke of the whip you so richly deserve."

He flicked the tail so suddenly she didn't even realize he'd done it until the line of fire moved over her thigh. "Ow!" she cried.

"Count!" he barked.

"One! Ow! Two!" The second stroke licked her other thigh, leaving a trail of pain.

He moved behind her, the crack of the leather against her ass making her jump in the split second before the pain registered in her brain. "Fuck!" she screamed.

"Fuck is not a number," Sam replied, his tone amused. "So we start again at one."

Rage edged its way past fear at that moment. If she could have, she would have strangled him. Instead, as the whip curled cruelly around her left thigh, she cried, "One!"

Ten more blows, five on each ass cheek, though the order was random. Each time the leather struck, Rae jerked against her restraints and cried out, the belt at her throat choking her. Desperately she tried to keep count, calling out the numbers, tears of impotent fury coursing down her cheeks.

He returned to face her. This time the lash caught the underside of one of her breasts, snaking over the skin. Rae screamed.

"Count," Sam hissed.

"Twelve," Rae cried quickly, terrified he'd make her start over. "Please," she entreated. The whip struck, finding her other breast. She screamed, unable to help it, but she managed to gasp, "Thirteen."

He struck her thighs, a stripe of fire on each leg before again moving behind her. For a while he concentrated on her ass, which was easier to tolerate than anywhere else, though it still stung plenty. At twenty-eight he returned to stand in front of her. She was breathing hard, dizzy with pain and fear, her body slicked with sweat.

"The last two," Sam said. "And then you'll thank me for taking the time to correct you."

The flick was sudden, the pain excruciating as the tip of the whip made contact with Rae's right nipple. She howled, forgetting to count, forgetting language altogether. Then her left nipple exploded with pain.

Her heart was thundering in her ears, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Count," she heard him admonish, as if from a distance, though his mouth was close to her ear.

Somehow she forced her lips to comply, desperate for this to be over. "Twenty-nine," she whispered. "Thirty."

When he unbuckled the belt, her head fell forward, her hair hanging down in her face. He crouched down and released the ankle cuffs. Her knees sagged, the weight of her body pulling hard against her wrists.

She slumped against Sam when her wrists were freed, her arms flopping down. Sam pulled her forward but then let her go, forcing her to her knees. He stood in front of her as she swayed on her haunches, trying to clear the whirling fog in her brain.

"Now you'll thank me for the punishment you so richly deserved," Sam intoned above her. His crotch was level with her face and she couldn't help but the see the erection tenting his pants. She watched as he slid the zipper down and drew both the pants and his underwear along his muscular thighs.

His cock was as she remembered, thick and long above heavy balls. She could smell his musk, which mingled with the sharp scent of her own sweat and fear. She understood what he wanted her to do, of course she did.

She wanted to smack the offending shaft, or better, to grab hold of his testicles and twist until he screamed. Of course she didn't dare. Not while she was here, his voluntary prisoner. Why the hell had she agreed to his insane conditions?

It's only thirty days, she reminded herself. One short month and then he'd set her free. They'd sign the indemnifying agreement and she could move on with her life, or what was left of it.

"Kneel up," he ordered, his cock bobbing inches from her face.

Rae turned the words over in her mind, trying to remember what kneeling up meant. Hands behind her head, yes, that was it. She lifted her hands and as she locked her fingers behind her neck she looked down, drawing in her breath sharply as she saw the angry red welts across her breasts and the tops of her thighs.

"Spread your knees wider." Sam moved closer, his legs between hers forcing them farther apart. "No hands. Keep them behind your head. Now thank me properly, cunt. Do it like you mean it. If you do a good job, I'll let you rest."

Rae glanced toward the bed in the corner of the room. Her muscles were rigid and exhausted from the stress of all she'd endured to this moment. The bedding looked soft and inviting, the pillows plump. Oh, to rest-her body ached with fatigue. To sleep-a brief escape from the nightmare in which she found herself.

Sam nudged the head of his cock against her lips. Rae's impulse was to keep her lips firmly closed. Did he really expect her to suck him off as a thank you for whipping her? And yet, what choice did she have? What would he do to her if she refused? She was helpless, completely and utterly at his mercy. At least, once she'd satisfied the bastard, he'd let her rest.

She parted her lips, allowing him to thrust his cock between them. It lay heavy and warm in her mouth, the head nudging back toward her throat. She began to suckle and lick, closing her eyes, trying to pretend he was her lover, rather than her jailer.

If only she could use her hands, she'd be able to get him off much quicker. Still, she was skilled at pleasing a man. She'd make him come as fast as she could. She'd capitalize on his being a guy-once he came, he'd finally leave her the fuck alone.

She focused on her task, grimly pleased when she heard him softly groan above her. She licked along the shaft, creating suction with her lips and tongue as best she could. He groaned again, thrusting forward as his hands dropped heavily to her shoulders, holding her in place.

He eased his cock in and out of her mouth and she did her best to use her lips and tongue to increase the friction and the pleasure as he moved. "Yeah," he breathed, his voice throaty and deep. She struggled to stay in position as his movements quickened. He was breathing fast, thrusting in and out of her mouth and she knew it was just a matter of seconds now, please god, until he came.

He shuddered and she tensed, readying herself for the spurt of his ejaculate. Hopefully he'd shoot it right down her throat and all she'd have to do was swallow without having to taste it.

All at once he let go of her shoulders, pulling his cock out of her mouth. Her eyes, which had been closed, flew open with surprise. He was gripping the shiny shaft in his fist, pulling at his cock, his eyes fixed on her face. He groaned once more and, before she realized what was happening, shot his load in white ribbons over her cheeks and lips, the last few globs landing on her breasts.

Surprise and humiliation burned their way through Rae in equal measure. Instinctively she brought her hand forward to wipe the sticky mess from her lips.

"Back in position!" Sam barked. "How dare you move before being given permission?"

Hating him with every fiber of her being, but too afraid to find out what would happen if she disobeyed, Rae reluctantly left the mess on her face and breasts and put her hands back behind her head. She looked down at the carpet as Sam tucked his cock back into his trousers and zipped them up.

She didn't move as he stepped away from her. She heard the grating sound of metal on metal and stole a glance toward the corner of the room where Sam stood. He was bending over a large black metal crate, a cage to keep a large animal or, she realized with dawning dread, a person.

Sam turned to look at her. "Crawl over here."

Rae stared at him. Crawl? Had she heard him correctly? As if reading her mind, he reiterated, "That's right. On your hands and knees. Move it."

Rae lowered her arms, again reaching to wipe the come splashed on her face. "Leave it," Sam said. "Let it dry there. A reminder that you're my property. Now, crawl over here right now unless you'd rather have punishment number three first."

Dismayed and frightened, Rae dropped to all fours and began to crawl toward her captor, her bare breasts swaying as she made the humiliating trek toward him. He pulled the door of the cage open and pointed inside.

"Get in there. You haven't earned the bed yet."

In spite of herself, Rae shrank back. She opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again, the stinging memory of the lash looming large in her mind and on her skin.

Sam pointed emphatically toward the cage. Reluctantly, Rae crawled into the small space, shrinking back as he closed and padlocked the gate behind her. The bottom of the cage was padded with about an inch of foam rubber bound in plastic sheeting and covered in a thin layer of cotton fabric.

"Rest while you can," Sam said. "I'll be back later to check on you."

"Wait!" Rae cried breathlessly. "I mean, um, please, can I have permission to speak?"

Sam regarded her for a long moment, an amused expression on his face. Finally he nodded slowly. "You may."

Rae drew in a breath. How could she get herself out of this horrid little cage? "Please," she begged. "You can't leave me here in this thing! I have to pee. And I'm thirsty. And I don't like small spaces. Please, don't leave me here alone!"

Sam shook his head, his tone filled with mock sympathy. "Poor thing. I guess you should have thought of all this before you stole from me. As to your creature comforts, you should be more observant. You've got everything you need right there."

He pointed toward the back of the cage where two bottles hung, one in each corner. The first was an empty plastic bottle with a wide neck opening into a square container. It was, she realized, a female urinal. She was expected to pee in that?

In the other corner there hung an upside down water bottle with a tiny metal spout, the kind of thing used in hamster cages, only quite a bit larger. She was expected to suck on the tip like a rodent in a cage. She was, she knew, thirsty enough to do it, but not while he was watching, the prick.

"I've got the monitor on and I'll be listening. I don't want to hear a sound, unless it's an emergency, got it?" Without waiting for a response, Sam turned away. She could hear his tread on the basement stairs and then she was alone.

Rae waited, still and silent as a mouse for several long moments, until the pressure in her bladder spurred her to action. She reached for the urinal and popped off the cap. Awkwardly she positioned herself over it, willing her tense muscles to relax enough to allow her to pee. Finally the pee rushed forth in a hot stream, splashing slightly as she adjusted the lip of the urinal to catch it.

She capped the bottle and hung it again on the side of the cage, looking around for something to wipe herself with. Finding nothing, she used the edge of the sheet that covered the padding. She scooted away toward the other bottle. At first she tried to get it off the cage so she could hold it in her hands, but it was securely bolted in place with tiny padlocks. The bastard had thought of everything.

It took a while to position herself so her mouth was at the proper angle to suck the spigot, but finally she managed. The water felt good going down, soothing her parched throat. Once she'd had enough to slake the worst of her thirst, she realized she was starving. Sam had gotten them both burgers at a drive thru on the way from her place to his, but she hadn't been able to get down a single bite.

She pushed against her empty stomach, looking down at her naked body. The welts were still there, long, angry lines of red where he'd whipped her. His come had dried on her breasts and face. Disgusted, she pushed at the tip of the water bottle with her finger, using a little to rub at the ejaculate. Better not waste the water, she warned herself, and gave up her efforts.

The cage was nearly tall enough to sit up in, but it was easier to curl into a ball. She hugged herself, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She was tired, so, so tired. Not that she could sleep, locked up in this crate like an animal! But at least she could rest, close her tired eyes and let her aching muscles recover as much as possible before the bastard returned with more torture and humiliation.

She closed her eyes.

And somehow, she slept.

Chapter Four.

The sound insinuated itself into troubled dreams, pulling her toward consciousness. The sound of a thunder clap, a gun's report, a snapping whip...

Rae's eyes flew open. It was the sound of a whip, though the crack was much sharper and louder than the small single tail he'd used on her earlier. Her heart began at once to flutter and constrict in her chest. Her left arm was trapped and numb beneath her body, which was curled into a fetal position on the floor of the animal cage where he'd left her.

The whip continued to snap somewhere out of her range of vision, making her wince. She struggled into a sort of sitting crouch, her neck bent to keep from hitting the top of the cage with her head. The cracking sound suddenly ceased.

He had heard her.

She froze, not even daring to breathe. After a few moments she peered through the bars of the cage. She could see nothing from her corner except the door that led to the basement stairs. She heard the tread of his footsteps and a moment later his booted feet appeared. Her eyes followed the line of his long legs, now covered in soft black leather that molded to his muscular calves and thighs and the bulge at his crotch. She drew in her breath, aroused in spite of herself.

She could see his face through the bars that made up the ceiling of her cage. His blond hair looked damp and freshly combed. Rae longed for a shower herself. Her skin was itchy with dried sweat and his sticky come, her hair tangled around her face. She needed to pee again and her mouth tasted sour.

"Have a nice nap?" His tone was light, as if he had entered the bedroom of a friend who was just waking.

An angry retort rose to her lips but she managed to bite it back just in time. Direct question, a small voice whispered and so she hurriedly said, "I guess I fell asleep," hoping that counted as an answer.

"Hungry?"

The question was like a key that unlocked her completely empty stomach. "Starving," she admitted. How long had she been there? How long had she slept?

He crouched in front of the cage. "I've made some dinner. I had mine already but I saved you some. Steak, salad, some fresh corn. I have a nice bottle of Cabernet opened. Sound good?"

Rae's mouth pooled with saliva at the mention of the food. "Yes. Yes, please," she said eagerly, reaching to grip the bars of the cage. Surely he'd let her out now? Let her eat?

He reached for the padlock and unlocked it. Releasing the latch, he let the gate swing outward. Standing again, he stepped back.

Rae crawled out of the cramped space, keenly aware of her nudity and disheveled appearance, and the fact she was on her knees. She started to rise but his hand on her shoulder held her down.

"You don't get up until I tell you."

She stiffened but stayed down, the thought of steak and red wine keeping her still.

Sam spoke over her head as she focused on his black square-toed boots. "Before you earn the privilege of a meal, there is the little matter of punishment number three."

Rae's heart sank at this unwelcome pronouncement. Still she kept her head down, too hungry to protest.

Sam's hand extended into her line of vision, held out as if for her to take it. Tentatively she reached for it and he pulled her upright. She swayed, dizziness nearly overcoming her. Sam's grip was tight and he brought an arm around her shoulders, steadying her.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" He kept his arm still around her. Despite herself, she leaned into him. The silk of his black shirt was soft against her skin. She could smell a hint of his woodsy cologne.

"Yes," she replied, silently praying he didn't make her use the cage urinal in front of him. To her relief he guided her to the small bathroom and let her relieve herself in relative privacy, though he didn't allow her to close the door. As she washed her hands and splashed water over her face, she noted there was no mirror in the bathroom.

Sam stuck his head in the door, startling her. "Come out. You've had enough time." Having no choice, she obeyed him. Sam led her to the center of the dungeon. "Stand at attention, feet shoulder-width apart," he ordered. "Hands behind your head, same as for the kneeling up."