"Yes, please." She'd felt the urge while in the cage but hadn't wanted to use the urinal, especially now that she knew he might be watching her. He let her use the bathroom without even following her inside. When she was done, she stepped back into the room, at once frightened and curious as to what he had in mind.

She watched as he brought a full-length mirror from a corner of the room. He gestured with his chin toward the bed. "Lie down with your head just below the pillows." Rae obeyed while Sam placed the mirror on the floor at the end of the bed, angling it so she could see herself.

Pushing the pillows aside, he climbed onto the bed behind her, cradling her between his legs. She could see them both now in the mirror, Sam's long, jean-clad legs on either side of her naked body, his firm, muscular chest warm against her back through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. They could have been lovers.

But they weren't. Rae tensed, holding herself stiff against Sam's body. She was his prisoner, held here against her will. No, stop it. You agreed to the terms. Don't make it harder on yourself than it has to be. Remember the rules. Follow the rules...

"As a part of your training today," Sam broke into her thoughts, "we'll test your modesty." He lifted her as he spoke and scooted them both down toward the bottom of the bed. "Pull your legs up, feet flat, knees wide. I want to take a good look at your bare cunt."

Rae felt the heat rushing to her face. Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been this. She had never let a man linger too long down there. For all her confidence with her figure and shape, this was one area where she was not comfortable at all. She realized she'd rather be placed in the corner again in those god-awful shoes than have to spread her legs for Sam's unwelcome inspection.

Though she hadn't thought of it in ages, all at once Rae flashed back to her freshman year of high school when she'd been out on her first (and only) date with Danny Hunter, a senior who all the girls were after. She didn't know him well at all, but had been deeply flattered when he'd asked her out. Certain her parents would never let her date a senior, she'd lied, telling them she was going to the movies with her friend, Jean. She'd expected Danny to take her out for pizza or maybe to a party, but instead he'd just driven her to the parking lot of a nearby university and suggested they move from the front to the back of his father's Cadillac, where he produced a small cooler filled with cans of beer.

They sat in the dark, drinking beer and talking about their school's sports teams and Danny's choice of college the upcoming year. Not used to drinking, she'd gotten plenty drunk, plenty fast. She'd been both excited and very nervous when Danny had started making out with her. After all, he was super hot, even if he was moving faster than she was used to with the boys her own age.

His kisses were sloppy but his hands were smooth and fast, unbuttoning her blouse, slipping into her bra, easing the zipper down her jeans. He kept telling her she was so hot, and he wanted her so much. She kept thinking what a great story this would make over lunch on Monday with her girlfriends. They'd be so jealous that Danny Hunter had taken her out! Danny Hunter thought she was hot!

Somehow, he'd managed to get her jeans and panties down when all at once he turned on the ceiling light and leaned down, his face very close to her exposed pussy. Suddenly sober, Rae had tried to slam her legs together, deeply embarrassed at his scrutiny. But Danny had placed his hands on her thighs, forcing them apart.

"Let me look," he'd insisted, his voice slurred with liquor. "I like to see a girl's twat up close and personal. I can tell if she's a virgin or a slut. How 'bout you, babe? You a virgin or a slut? Let me see." He laughed, the sound derisive and insulting in her ears.

She had squirmed away from him, furious and deeply humiliated. "Take me home," she'd insisted, forgetting the movie she was supposedly at wouldn't be over for at least an hour.

He'd acted surprised, and then angry. "I should have known better than to take out a kid," he'd snarled, but he'd taken her home, making his tires squeal as he pulled away from the curb.

If only she could insist that Sam take her home. But she wasn't fourteen, she reminded herself. She could do this. She would pass his fucking modesty test, whatever it was. Each minute she got through was one less minute she had to go through, one minute closer to freedom.

"Open your legs," Sam instructed her. "Let me see what's mine." She looked at him in the mirror. He was no longer smiling and his eyes held a curious, dangerous spark. Rae's heart skipped a beat but she didn't dare disobey him. Slowly, she let her legs fall open, keeping her eyes on his face. He placed a large hand on either thigh, holding her open in front of the mirror.

"Don't look at me," he instructed. "Look at your cunt. Tell me what you see."

"What?" Rae felt flustered, unsure of what he was saying.

"Look at your cunt, Rae. Examine it in the mirror. Describe it to me."

"I-I don't know what you mean," she said helplessly, her face beet red.

She tensed, afraid he was going to yell at her, threaten her in some way, but when he spoke, his voice was calm, even patient. "It's a simple task, Rae. I want you to really take a look at your pussy. Tell me what you see. Describe the folds, the color and the shape. Go on. It's not a trick. I really want to know what you see."

She had never, she realized with some surprise, ever really looked at herself down there. Why would she? And why was he making her now? She glanced again at his face and saw the warning there. She swallowed and let her eyes move down toward her splayed sex. It looked strange, so naked without the obscuring cover of pubic curls.

Men seemed to be fascinated with pussies, but at the same time, they were so insulting when they wanted to be. They loved to fuck, sure, but did they regard a woman's sex as beautiful? Filthy cunt, dirty twat, slit, gash, hole, the joke about the blind man at the fish market saying, "good morning, ladies,"-these images and words were as much a part of the American lexicon as home sweet home and apple pie. Women had received mixed messages about their sex all their lives. What did he want from her?

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could do this. She was a grown woman, for god's sake. She was proud of her body. Wasn't she?

She looked down, really seeing her pussy, possibly for the first time in her life. "I see..." she hesitated, still not entirely sure what he wanted. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I see folds of flesh, the outer ones are pink, the inner ones are darker, sort of purple, I guess."

Was this what he wanted? He said nothing but gave her a slight nod of encouragement.

She continued, almost warming to the task. It really wasn't ugly. It was even kind of pretty, in an abstract sort of way. "Um, it looks sort of like a tiger lily, when they aren't open yet before the sun comes up, you know?" She glanced at him, wondering if this was what he wanted.

He nodded again, a whisper of a smile moving over his mouth. "Go on," he urged softly. He reached for her, gently spreading the outer labia. He used one finger to pull back the hood at her center, revealing the tip of her clit, which peeped out like a tiny flower bulb ready to bloom.

"Go on," he said again.

Rae stared down at her clit, which swelled before her eyes as Sam moved his finger with a feathery touch over it and around it. "Gosh," she said, startled. "I've never seen that before. I didn't realize it got big like that when I was...um...aroused."

Sam nodded again. He took her right hand and lifted it to his lips, surprising her by licking her fingers. He then took her wrist, guiding her hand toward her spread pussy.

"Make yourself come for me. Show me how it's done."

Rae swallowed again, her embarrassment resurfacing at the thought of touching herself in front of someone, especially in front of this man, who held her against her will in his dungeon.

And yet, her pussy was throbbing, the folds swollen and moist, her clit pulsing at its center. This was certainly better than a beating, wasn't it? He was asking her to come-what was the big deal? She masturbated all the time when she was alone. She would just close her eyes and- "Eyes open," Sam snapped. "I want you to watch what you're doing. I want you to pay attention to your body. And when you're about to come, I want you to ask me for permission. Understand?"

She stared in the mirror into his face and then down at her pussy. She had no choice. She was his prisoner, this was beyond her control.

Slowly she reached for her sex with her wet fingers and began to rub in a circular motion around her hooded clit. She dipped her fingers into her pussy, watching as her fingers disappeared and then reemerged, shiny and wet. Again she rubbed herself, her eyes on her sex.

It was harder than she'd expected to keep her eyes open. She was used to closing them and losing herself in a fantasy, usually involving Johnny Depp or Neal Patrick Harris. Instead she forced herself to focus, watching as the folds swelled and darkened. She dared a quick glance at Sam's face, half fearing to see derision or that insolent, knowing smile on his face, but he was focused as intently as she on her sex, his lips lightly parted, his eyes burning with intensity.

She refocused on her bare cunt, bringing her left hand up and slipping a finger inside herself as she continued to rub and swirl the fingers of her right hand over and around her clit. She began to pant, and it took every bit of willpower to keep her eyes from sliding closed of their own accord.

She felt the melting heat of an orgasm roiling just below the surface and remembered just in time to beg, "Please, may I come?"

She struggled against the rising tide of her impending orgasm as she strained for his answer, the fingers of her right hand moving wildly over her sex, her left second and third fingers sliding wetly in and out like pistons.

"Yes."

She let the tide sweep her away.

Chapter Eight.

He'd held her in the dungeon for five days now, waking her each morning for her shower and grooming, and then subjecting her to a series of erotic torture and training sessions.

She no longer hesitated in addressing him as Sir, and the constant resistance had ebbed away to almost nothing. Sam had abandoned the idea of going into the city to work while she was in his dungeon-he didn't want to leave her alone down there. Fortunately, he had a full computer lab in his home office. The only inconvenience was in meeting new clients, but he didn't have anything going at the moment anyway-the Ichi job had absorbed all his time and attention the past few months.

He'd had to consult with Rae on two occasions regarding some financial details in the contract. How strange that had been-Rae naked and imprisoned in his dungeon, leaning over the document and explaining points he needed to understand.

It was early, before seven, though Sam had already been up nearly two hours. He slept very lightly with Rae in the house, waking several times a night to make sure she was okay, and taking a long time to fall back asleep, images of what they'd done that day swirling through his brain and hardening his cock.

Turning away from the computer, he looked at the closed-circuit TV screen. The view was set on camera two-her bed. She looked like a captured angel curled on her side, her hands tucked beneath her cheek, lit by the soft glow of the nightlight. Her sheet had fallen to just below her breasts. He could see the outline of her nipple, jutting sweetly.

Yes, he thought, as he stared at the naked, chained woman, today I'll introduce her to the pleasure and pain of the clamps.

Sam turned back toward his computer and clicked on a video he'd downloaded from one of his favorite porn sites. In it a woman not unlike Rae, with dark, flowing hair and pouting lips, was securely bound face down on a high, wide table. Her knees were bent, her arms underneath her between her legs, her wrists tied to her ankles. Her ass was forced up high, the cheeks splayed, nothing left to the imagination. The height of the table was such that her head was level with the erect cock of the naked man standing in front of her. Pulling her head up by the hair, he eased his long, thick shaft into her open mouth, ordering her to swallow it.

Sam hadn't yet dressed that morning. He was wearing his favorite shorts, as the day had already dawned hot and sticky outside. He reached for his cock and pulled it from the button fly, stroking it. Wouldn't it be nice to have his own slave girl kneeling right now between his legs, sucking him off while he watched...

Well, why not?

He hadn't allowed her out of the dungeon since he'd first brought her home. But she was much more compliant now. Maybe she'd earned a trip out of the basement, if just for a little while. Maybe she'd earned the chance to suck his cock.

Sam paused the video and stood, tucking his cock back into his shorts. He glanced at his watch. He usually let Rae sleep until eight but he wanted her now. Over the past few days he'd established a routine for her. He would change the channel on the baby monitor so that she could hear him through it, and let her know she had five minutes to present herself.

This meant she was to get out of the bed and kneel up on the floor, legs spread wide, hands behind her head, while she waited for him. He loved to come down the stairs and see her there, naked with her breasts thrust out, her shaven cunt peeking between her legs, her hair tousled around a face still smudged with sleep.

This morning, however, he would wake her himself, in person. He moved quickly down the hall toward the basement door, which he unlocked and pulled open. Grabbing the dungeon key ring from its hook, he stepped lightly down the stairs on bare feet, stopping at the bottom as his eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Rae stirred, turning from her side to her back, her right hand disappearing beneath the sheet. Sam moved quietly across the carpet until he was beside the bed. He gripped the hem of the sheet and pulled it slowly down her naked body. Her hand was cupped over her bare mons, the fingers hidden between her legs.

Sam's cock hardened at the erotic sight. He would have to make her masturbate again for him soon. She'd better not be touching herself now though-even in her sleep-or he'd have to punish her. He watched for a few moments, but her hand was still, and her breathing had deepened again.

He thought about turning on the overhead light, but instead moved toward the bathroom and flicked on the light, opening the door wide to let it brighten the room. When he sat down beside her, Rae's eyes flew open and she jerked her hands toward her mouth.

"Oh, Sir! I didn't hear you! I'm sorry, I must have slept through-"

"Hey, calm down," Sam said gently. "It's okay. It's early. I wanted to wake you myself this morning. I didn't mean to startle you." He gripped her hands and lowered them from her face. She continued to stare at him, but the fear and confusion ebbed slowly away as he stroked her cheek.

Such power he held over her! This was more than a dominant lover's sway. He was her lord and master. He decided when she slept, ate, orgasmed. He decided when she'd earned a punishment or a reward. No one in the world but he knew she was imprisoned in his dungeon. If he wanted, he could keep her there forever...

Sam pushed away these thoughts to contemplate later. Rae was searching his face, as if she could read there his plans for her, though she wisely didn't ask. She was learning, slowly but surely.

"How would you like to come upstairs?"

Rae looked puzzled. "What?"

"Upstairs. Out of the dungeon for a while. I have something in my study I want to show you."

"Oh." Rae seemed to be thinking it over, which was kind of funny, since his question wasn't really a choice. She'd do what he said, when he said, end of discussion. Still, he waited until she nodded. "I would like that, Sir."

"Good. Use the bathroom if you want. I'll groom you later."

Rae slid from the bed and hurried toward the bathroom. He didn't follow her, though he sometimes liked to watch her, just to make her blush. He heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water, and a moment later she stood in front of him, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot.

"Is that how you greet me in the mornings?" Sam affected a stern tone. He was pleased to see her sink quickly to her knees. She knelt back on her haunches and spread her legs as she lifted her arms and locked her fingers behind her neck. Such a beauty; he never tired of looking at her. She was staring off into the middle distance, her face closed off and inscrutable, though she couldn't hide the faint blush that had crept over her chest and cheeks as it did every morning when he forced her to expose herself like this for his pleasure.

"Better," he said, extending his hand. "Now follow me. I have a job for you."

Rae followed Sam uncertainly up the basement steps. She would have liked to stay in bed, but at the same time she was excited at the prospect of going upstairs. He'd said he had a job for her. Was he talking business? Why take her upstairs for that? Every other time he'd consulted with her on some business-related issue, he'd brought it down to her.

She followed him along a hall to a door that he pushed open, revealing a large, sunny room that, like his office downtown, had three computers and lots of clutter. There was a landline telephone. She could grab it and dial 911! They'd come no matter what-she wouldn't even have to say a word.

Even as this scenario played itself out, she rejected it. If she did that, even if kidnapping charges stuck, he'd still have the evidence of her embezzlement, and then he'd be sure to file charges against her.

No, it was better to do the time. Nearly a week had passed already, and so far she'd survived reasonably intact. She touched her ass as she thought this, feeling the welted, abraded skin. Every day he whipped, cropped, flogged or spanked her, marking her in some fashion. Sometimes when he'd left her for the night, even though she knew he might be watching, she would stand in front of the mirror he kept near the cabinet, and crane back to see the damage he'd done that day.

She was both horrified and transfixed by the marks she saw-stripes of red and pink, some faded to white or flowered into little purple bruises. I took that, she found herself thinking with a curious kind of pride. I endured that whipping, I handled that beating. I am strong. I can take whatever he gives me.

Odder still was her physical reaction when she stared at the welts and bruises. Her pussy would moisten and swell and her nipples tingled with the remembered touch of his fingers and mouth. Perhaps because so often the pain of a punishment was mixed with the pleasure of sexual release. He would let her come, or force her to come, after or even during a beating. The sensations of stinging pain and burning pleasure had somehow fused in her brain, the memory of one eliciting the memory of the other in a tangle of fear and desire.

Sam sat down at his desk and swiveled his monitor toward her. "I was watching one of my favorite videos. It's giving me some nice ideas for you, slave girl." He pressed the play button. Rae stared at the screen. A tall, naked man with a shaved head stood in front of a young woman who was tied face down on a padded table. The man held the woman's head in his large hands as he guided his sizable cock into her mouth.

Rae stared, fascinated as the camera angle shifted, showing the woman from behind. The man had moved behind her and was pressing what looked like a large Plexiglas plug into the woman's ass. It was attached to a long silver hook with a rope hanging from it. The plug slipped inside, leaving only the shiny hook showing. The man walked around the tethered woman, rope in hand, until he again stood in front of her, his cock waving in her face, the rope pulled taut in his big fist, straining at the silver hook.

"Jesus," Rae whispered, before she realized she was speaking. She clamped her mouth shut and glanced nervously at Sam, aware she'd spoken out of turn. But Sam just smiled at her, an evil glint in his eye.

Rae watched as Sam lifted his hips and slid his shorts down his legs, kicking them aside. His cock sprang free, not quite fully erect, but definitely getting there. Rae felt a twinge in her pussy and her nipples perked, which confused her. She was supposed to hate this man. She told herself that a hundred times a day, but she couldn't deny he was a gorgeous specimen of male beauty, his cock straight and thick, his thighs muscular. She could see the blond hairs glinting in the light like spun gold on his tan skin.

He was pointing to the floor between his legs. "On your knees. I want you to suck my cock while I watch the rest of the movie." The video continued to play on the screen. The man was slapping the woman in the face, over and over, while she breathlessly begged him to do it again, and again! He still held the rope that was attached to the silver hook. Didn't that hurt? She was staying very still, but who wouldn't with that thing stuck up their ass?

Sam startled Rae by jerking her hair hard, forcing her to look away from the video. "Focus on my cock, not the screen. Don't stop until you make me come. And make sure you swallow every drop or I'll have you lick it up."

Swallowing nervously, Rae reached for Sam's cock, smelling his musky heat as she lowered her lips tentatively over the head. He was big, larger than she was used to, and she hoped she'd be able to satisfy him. She'd never had trouble pleasing a man in this way before, but she'd never been that man's personal sex slave either. She knew she'd better do a good job, or she'd definitely pay a price for it.

She reached for his balls, cupping them gently in one hand while she curled the fingers of her other hand around the base of his shaft. He spread his legs farther apart and shifted slightly in the chair, angling his hips forward.

She licked and sucked at the top half of his cock for a while, using her hands to provide stimulation lower down. "Take it farther," she heard him say from above. Rae could hear the woman on the video, her gasps and cries punctuated by the smacking sound of leather against skin. It was oddly discomfiting to realize Sam was focused not on her, but on the porn video on his monitor.

She felt almost incidental, just a tool to get him off, an object not that different from the vibrating wand he used on her. She told herself she should be glad. It was better not to be the focus of his sadistic intentions. Just do what he wants and get it over with, she told herself. Then you can have a shower and breakfast.

She moved her hand up the rigid shaft, meeting it with her lips over the fat crown of his cock. "Hands behind your back," she heard him say. "Take it all the way." She felt Sam's hand, heavy on the back of her head, pressing her forward onto his shaft.

Reluctantly, she took her hands away. He kept his hand on her head, his cock moving deeper into her mouth and past her soft palette, not stopping until the tip was lodged far back in her throat. He'd moved slowly enough so as not to gag her, but he held her there for several long seconds.

She couldn't get a breath, not the way his cock was blocking her windpipe. She tried to pull back but he held her fast. She felt a wave of panic rolling from her gut. She tried to empty her mind and relax her body.

He won't let you suffocate. You can trust him.

All at once she relaxed. What a startling thing to realize. She did trust him. She trusted Sam Ryker, the man who was holding her prisoner in his dungeon, the man who had basically raped her the first day, and done all sorts of horrible things to her ever since. She trusted him? Was she losing her mind?

She realized the pressure on the back of her head had eased and she slid back, sucking in oxygen as her lips glided along the smooth, warm skin of his cock. He groaned. "Yeah. That's it, babe. Show me what you can do." She lowered her head again, taking his full length, farther than she would have gone on her own, if he hadn't showed her just now that she could do it.

She moved back and forth, lifting herself slightly over him so she could take him deep into her throat again, and again, until he began to moan in a steady murmuring rhythm. "Yeah, yeah, oooooh, yeah, baby. Do it."

All at once she felt his fingers digging sharply into her shoulders as his body stiffened and arched forward. He thrust his shaft down her throat, nearly gagging her, but she managed to keep her muscles relaxed enough to receive him as he jerked against her. His fingers were gripping her hard, holding her fast as he ejaculated in several spasms.