Then, somehow, she'd face the rest of her life.

Rae had taken to waking several minutes before Sam did his wakeup call through the monitor. The room was softly illuminated by two nightlights plugged in along the walls. While waiting, she would stare at the ceiling, letting thoughts drift idly through her mind.

I wonder if we'll have scrambled eggs this morning. I hope there's orange juice. I wish the chain was a little longer so I could scratch my ankle without contorting. I hope I get to come today. I wonder what it will be like when I see sunshine and grass again. I miss wearing clothes. I wonder if I'll get to suck his cock today.

She would think back over the latest training or punishment, pondering how she could have done better, or what had pleased Sam or, though she was getting much better at avoiding this, what had angered him.

Intellectually she knew she should hold on to the rage that had peppered and shaped her first week, but it took too much energy. And what was the point? When she was a good girl, Sam rewarded her with delicious food and other nice things. He let her come almost every day, though admittedly she earned it in one way or another.

She had learned to work through the pain to get to the pleasure awaiting her. Sometimes they were all mixed up-just as she felt the delicious release of a powerful orgasm, it would be tempered by the sting of a whip or the hard smack of a wooden paddle that would leave bruises on her ass for several days. Her body understood even when her mind rejected the notion, that in order for her to take her pleasure, she had to also endure the pain.

As the days edged into weeks, she no longer questioned this. She accepted it. Lately though it had gone beyond acceptance. Though she was scarcely able to admit it to herself, she wanted the pain. No, that wasn't right. She didn't want it! That was sick! And yet... And yet, somehow, she needed it in order to give power and meaning to the pleasure.

How could that be correct? Did she really crave the cut of the single tail? Did she revel in the viselike pressure of the clamps painfully compressing her nipples or tugging at her labia? Did she want to be tied down and subjected to Sam's bizarre humiliations, just so she could come at his command?

It was too complicated and unsettling to think about. Better to focus on what she could control. Such as how many times he'd let her come today. With his permission, of course.

She'd learned her lesson on day nine. She certainly didn't want a repeat of that day! At the time she'd been furious because she felt like he'd tricked her by yet again forcing her into coming with that damn vibrating wand, even while he was commanding her not to.

Truth be told, she probably could have held out longer-he'd been training her in what he called orgasm control-but she'd been tired and very aroused by the extended nipple play from earlier that morning. She'd earned that orgasm, damn it, or so she had told herself when she let go and rode the sweet climax to its shuddering conclusion.

Afterwards, she was punished with orgasm denial. Worse, he'd left her alone for such a long time. She'd found, to her confusion, that she missed him. Even being tied up and tortured was better than being left alone. But after the stolen orgasm, he'd chained her to the bed and left her there.

It had felt more like a week than a day, the hours trickling by like thick sap dripping down a tree trunk, and just about as exciting. With nothing else to distract her, she'd focused on the cunt she wasn't allowed to touch, her mind racing with images of Sam, naked with his hard cock in his hand, guiding it to her mouth, or Sam, his eyes blazing as he cuffed her to the St. Andrew's Cross for an extended flogging session that invariably ended with a mind-numbing orgasm as he finger-fucked her until she begged for release.

After being not only permitted, but ordered to come sometimes as often as ten or fifteen times over a twenty-four hour period, and then being denied for so many hours-it had been like withdrawing from a particularly addictive drug.

He had stripped away the bedding so she couldn't do anything sneaky. He'd said he'd be watching and if he saw her hands get anywhere near her cunt, he'd deny her for another twenty-four hours. She drifted in and out of restless, agitated sleep during the enforced captivity on her bed, her nipples aching for attention, her cunt swollen and wet with need.

Yes, she'd learned her lesson, all right. Since then she never came without permission and she never touched her body (his body, he would remind her) when she was alone.

"Good morning, slave girl." Sam's rich, deep voice shook Rae at once from her reverie.

"Good morning, Sir," she said to the empty room as she tumbled from the bed to the floor, lifting the long chain that extended from her collar to the headboard with practiced ease so it wouldn't tangle. She knelt up, placing her hands behind her neck and spreading her knees wide.

Maybe he'll have strawberries for me this morning. I like when he pops them into my mouth, one by one, his eyes never leaving mine...

After grooming and breakfast (no strawberries, but chocolate croissants, even better) Sam brought a large duffel bag from the cabinet and took it to the eyebolts embedded in the ceiling. The eyebolts usually meant suspension and intense whipping or flogging sessions. Rae's ass was still sore and marked from yesterday's caning. Was he planning to mark her again so soon?

Sam was wearing white shorts, his torso bare. Rae had come to learn when he wore those shorts it usually meant she would be sucking his cock before the hour was up. This suited Rae, who had come to crave his musky sweetness, savoring the salty gush of his ejaculate on her tongue and even more, the look of intense pleasure and vulnerability washing over his face at the moment of orgasm. Afterwards he would sometimes pull her into his arms, if only for a moment.

Rae felt her cunt tingling with anticipation, deeply curious as to what was in the duffel bag. Without speaking or looking at her, Sam pulled out four thick lengths of chain and attached them to the four outermost bolts, creating a square between the four chains. Next he extracted a large rectangle of black leather with long straps at each corner, a large O ring sewn into the end of each strap. He clipped the rings to the chains, creating a kind of hammock.

Turning at last to her, he said, "I'm pleased with your progress over the past several days and I've decided to reward you with my cock." As he spoke, Sam massaged his erection, clearly visible beneath the thin fabric of his shorts. His words of praise warmed her, causing a rush of grateful heat to move into her cheeks.

But what did he mean exactly? She looked at the leather hammock, trying to imagine how he was going to have her suck his cock. Would he be in the hammock? Was she to stand over him? How would it work? She voiced none of this. A slave did not speak out of turn.

Sam reached for her hand and pulled her upright, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. He deposited her into the hammock, which now completely confused her, but still she asked nothing. She knew he would tell her what to do. She waited, swaying gently in the makeshift swing, for his instruction.

He produced four Velcro cuffs. "Scoot your ass to the edge of the sling." She obeyed, holding on to the chains behind her to keep from falling. He attached a cuff to each wrist, securing her arms in place against the chains.

"Now your legs. Lift them as high as you can along the front chains."

Feeling awkward but determined to obey, Rae did as she was told. Sam cuffed her ankles in place, so her weight was resting on her ass, her cunt splayed wide on the edge of the sling. The back of the sling supported her back and neck but didn't stop her from feeling extremely vulnerable in this exposed position.

She watched as he pulled his shorts down and kicked them away, revealing his erect cock, bobbing from the thatch of dark blond pubic curls at his groin.

He spit onto his hand and fisted his cock, stepping closer to stand between her spread legs. "Oh!" she said involuntarily, suddenly understanding what he'd meant by his earlier comment. I've decided to reward you with my cock.

He was going to fuck her!

Not since that one time early on had he penetrated her with his cock. He'd used dildos and plugs, as well as his fingers and even once, his tongue, but never again had he fucked her. She'd told herself she was glad-and at first she had meant it. At first she'd thought of what he'd done as a rape, and nursed her rage and outrage, telling herself she was relieved he hadn't tried anything like that again.

But lately, well, for quite a while actually, if she was honest, she'd been fantasizing about what it would feel like to be filled again with that thick, long cock. Sometimes in the night she would wake from a sensual dream, her body aching to feel his girth stretching her, stroking her, claiming her...

Now it was happening. This was no dream.

Without speaking he moved closer, guiding his shaft into her opening. He moved carefully, not like the plunging thrust from behind when she'd been tethered to the sawhorse. Instead, almost gently, he guided his full length into her. Gripping her ankles, he pulled her forward, which caused his cock to penetrate even deeper. The head of his cock touched something inside her that caused a tremor of white hot pleasure to hurtle through Rae's body. She gasped from the unfamiliar but intense sensation.

He began to push the sling away and then draw it forward, nearly withdrawing from her and then thrusting deep, deeper than she'd ever been penetrated, touching that sweet spot again and again. Something about the angle of the sling and the way she was suspended worked together to create an incredible sensation inside her-like a thousand fingers moving and twisting, touching every sensitive nerve and fiber in ways they'd never been touched before.

In and out he moved, using the swing's momentum to pull her onto and then off of his cock. Rae gripped the chains tight and let her head fall back, giving herself over to the eddying currents of pure pleasure coursing through her body. Dimly, she was aware she would have to pay later-pleasure in Sam's dungeon never came without a price-but for now she didn't care. She was in heaven, his cock pulsing inside her as she moaned and trembled.

She held on as long as she could, not sure if she was going to be allowed to come, praying that he didn't forbid what soon she wouldn't be able to resist. "Oh god!" she finally cried. "Please, Sir, may I? Can I? Oh god, please..."

"Do it. Come for me." Sam leaned over her, buried to the hilt, his balls slapping at her ass. His hands were on her breasts, sure fingers rolling and twisting her distended nipples, adding that edge of pain she found she now needed to fully surrender.

His face was nearly touching hers, his lips inches from her own. Without quite realizing what she was doing, Rae turned her face so their lips touched. She let hers part and snaked her tongue along his bottom lip.

All at once his mouth was on hers, his tongue moving against hers in time to the cock thrusting hard in her sex. She gave herself over to it all, the cock, the orgasm, his kiss, his perfect, consuming kiss...

Her eyes were closed, her lips curved in a satisfied, post-orgasmic smile. Sam's cock was still hard inside her, his balls tight. She might be done, but he wasn't.

He pulled his cock from her slippery wetness. She stirred but didn't open her eyes. Cuffed as she was to the four chains that supported the sling, with her ass perched on the edge, she was completely exposed, not only her cunt, but the tiny pink bud of her asshole.

Sam realized the height and position of the sling were perfect for anal sex. Had she ever done it before? To test her reaction, he guided the head of his cock until it was touching her nether hole. He pushed gently against the tight ring of muscle guarding the entrance.

Rae's eyes flew open. "What?" she began anxiously. She was gripping the chains above her cuffed wrists and he could see the fear in her eyes. So she was an anal virgin. The thought excited him. He would be the first to claim her ass, to show her how to submit in yet another way to him.

"Is this your first time?"

"Yes. No! I mean, I don't allow-that is..." Cutting herself off, she bit her lower lip, no doubt aware she was about to tread on dangerous ground. Sam nodded approvingly at her newfound ability to control her tongue. That was good. She was coming to realize she didn't have that kind of say any longer, not while she was in his dungeon.

She tried again. "Sam...Sir, please, I don't, I can't-"

"Take it easy, Rae. I'm not going to hurt you. But I want to fuck your ass. It's another way you can give yourself to me, and it's what I want." Gripping her shoulders to hold the sling still, he nudged at the tight bud with his cock. Rae whimpered and gasped. He could feel the rigid tension in her muscles and he stepped back, taking stock of his slave girl.

"You need to calm down. Remember to focus on the relaxation techniques I've taught you. Slow your breathing. Deep, slow breaths. Relax your body and open yourself to me. Your tension shows me you aren't in a submissive state of mind. You aren't where I want you to be. Where you need to be."

Her wide, blue eyes fixed on his face, Rae actually made an effort to do as he said. She drew in a deep, shuddery breath and expelled it slowly through pursed lips.

"That's it." Sam smiled encouragingly. "Anal sex doesn't have to hurt, you know. It can be a very pleasurable experience."

He left her long enough to retrieve a tube of lubricant. He squirted a dollop onto his fingers and lightly probed between her ass cheeks. Carefully he pushed his finger into the tight opening, moving in small circles inside her as he pressed deeper. At first her muscles clamped down hard, but Sam took his time, moving slowly and gently, all the while watching her face, gauging her reaction.

When he felt the muscles ease, he added a second finger, widening the circle of muscle, his cock throbbing impatiently for its turn. Rae was breathing slower, though her eyes remained fixed on his, the fear in them still sharp.

Sam guided the head of his cock again between her spread cheeks. This time it slipped in easily. He felt the grip of muscle massage his cock, its hold tighter than a cunt but less yielding.

Rae gasped and yelped. Sam scanned her face, noting the fear but also the excitement in her eyes. His cock hardened to steel inside her. Using her hips to pull her forward, he pushed himself all the way in, slipping past rings of muscle, letting her body adjust to his girth. Rae yelped again, her breath coming in rapid pants. Her knuckles were white, her fingers gripping the chains like lifelines.

"Hey, calm down," Sam soothed, trying to keep his raging lust in check at least a while longer. His cock ached with the need to thrust itself inside her, to pummel her until she begged for mercy. He wanted to ram into her, to feel the tight clamp of her muscles massaging him to a powerful orgasm.

But he forced himself to go slow, not wanting to tear the delicate muscle and membrane. Rae's body was still taut with anxiety, all the easy languor of her climax gone. Sam's mind told him this was fine-she was his slave, not his lover and should take what he gave her, no matter how she felt about it. But his heart said otherwise. He realized, as dangerous as the admission was, that he wanted her to enjoy the experience. He wanted to make her first time something she remembered not with fear, but with pleasure.

Remaining buried deep inside her, he pressed his thumb against her hooded clit. With a feather-light touch, he moved the pad of his thumb in a circle, feeling her sweet spot swell at his touch. He continued to tease and arouse her until he felt her body relax a little. He noted with satisfaction that her fingers had loosened their death grip on the chains of the sling.

He began to move again inside her, using one hand to guide the sling so she was pulled back and forth onto his cock, the thumb of his other hand swirling over her slippery, swollen labia. Her anal passage held him in a tight, steady clutch as he moved inside her, punctuated by sudden muscle spasms that gripped him in a silky vise.

It wasn't long before he lost his resolve to draw out the experience. He could feel the shuddering rise of a climax being milked from his cock by her impossibly tight ass. When it came, it was almost a surprise, overtaking his senses, making him forget for that one moment to be cautious with his virgin slave.

He rammed hard into her as he released his seed, his groan of pleasure at odds with her sudden scream of pain. He pulled her closer, dropping his face to hers, muffling her cries with his kisses. As he kissed her mouth, his cock still buried inside her, he reached for the cuffs that kept her wrists tethered to the chains. He jerked them free, wanting her to put her arms around his neck, suddenly longing for her to pull him into a lover's embrace.

But her hands remained as they were, fingers curled tight around the chains. She turned her face from his kiss and pressed her lips together, keeping her eyes tightly closed.

Sam stood abruptly, stepping back and allowing his cock to pull from her body. She remained still, face averted, her legs lewdly spread. Moving quickly, Sam released the ankle cuffs and lifted Rae into his arms. As he carried her toward the bathroom for a shower, the foolish lover's fantasy of a moment before dissipated like a ribbon of smoke curling over her shoulder.

Chapter Eleven.

Sam sat at his keyboard, staring at the same few lines of code he'd been wrestling with for the past two hours. He saved the work and turned away, getting up from his desk and going to stare out the window at his front lawn.

Two children went running by on the sidewalk, their mother following a moment later, pushing a baby stroller. "Slow down, boys!" he could hear her shout. "Don't cross the street till I get there!"

As the woman passed his house she turned her head, looking up suddenly, directly at Sam, as if she were scrutinizing his face; consigning it to memory. Instinctively he stepped back from the window, discomfited by the encounter.

Had she really been looking at him? Sam doubted it, yet nonetheless, her penetrating gaze had left him feeling...exposed.

He sat heavily on the sofa beneath the window and dropped his head into his hands. What was he doing? How could he continue to justify what was going on in his basement?

At first he'd been surprised but pleased at how easily she'd fallen into line. After those first few rough days when she still hadn't reconciled herself to her fate, she'd begun to obey him, if not exactly eagerly, at least without resisting at every turn.

He'd been working on aligning the pleasure and the pain in her psyche, teaching her to expect the one with the other, even to require it. As he'd suspected, she was a born submissive with strong masochistic tendencies. She was blossoming under his tutelage, each day more compliant and obedient than the next.

What had begun as punishment for her thievery had turned into more. Not only for her, but for himself. Yet he knew when the thirty days were up, she'd demand that he follow through on the terms they'd agreed upon.

More than once, especially when they were in the middle of an intense scene, with Rae naked and bound before him, submitting to his latest round of erotic torture, he'd found himself thinking he might never let her go.

Young women in New York City disappeared all the time. She'd once mentioned some family out in Nebraska, but he didn't think they were at all close. She had no roommate, and when her fictional month in Japan was at an end, who was there to know that she hadn't returned to her daily life?

Her landlord would keep her deposit, dispose of her things and easily re-rent the coveted apartment space. Sam had the key. Maybe he'd even go over there and clear it out. He could keep her stuff in the attic or just give it to charity.

When his mind veered in this bizarre direction, Sam had to pull himself up short. He wasn't some kind of monster, keeping a woman captive as his permanent slave girl, locked and naked in his dungeon, forever at his mercy...

Yet, wasn't he? Wasn't that precisely what he was doing? True, the captivity was finite. Only two weeks left until he had to give her up, but did that make what he was doing any less heinous?

Though it was only three in the afternoon, Sam went out into the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet. He poured himself some vodka and added a few cubes ice. He drank the first one quickly, draining the glass before pouring a second one, which he took back into the study. He sat in front of the closed-circuit TV and gazed at the screen.

What was really bothering him, he knew, was what had happened earlier that day. Why had he decided to fuck her? He'd promised himself he wouldn't do that again, not after that first time. It was a boundary, albeit an artificial one, that gave him a sense of safety. As long as he didn't fuck her, they weren't lovers. He was just her part-time Master, her temporary Sir, her jailer. He was teaching her a lesson, exacting a penance, taking his due for her crime against him.

But she'd been so good lately. So obedient, so responsive, so in tune with his commands and dictates that he'd found himself falling...

No. No, he would not even go there.

Rae Johansen was a liar and thief. She was hot, yes, there was no denying that. And she was submissive, but he was not the Master for her. Their relationship, whatever it was, was forever sullied by her breach of his trust.

And by his exacting such a cost for that breach.

He stared at the screen. She was on her bed, as always. Indeed, he'd chained her there, telling her to rest while he did a little work. He would have her exercise in a while.

When he'd released her cuffs and helped her from the sling, she'd stared at him with those dark blue eyes flecked with bronze, her lips like crushed rose petals. There was more in her expression than obedience or even sexual satisfaction. If he hadn't known better he'd have thought there was...love?

No, impossible. He was fantasizing. She was his prisoner, his slave. No more, no less.

What had possessed him to kiss her? It was bad enough he'd succumbed to his weakness, desperate to be inside her, but the kiss? The intimacy of it had nearly left him undone. You could pay a hooker to let you fuck her, but not to kiss her.

Kisses were for lovers.

Rae Johansen was not his lover.

She was not even his friend. He'd sealed their fate with his strange choice of revenge. There could be no going back, or forward.

Sam tipped the last of the vodka into his mouth and stood, smashing his other fist into his thigh.

Damn it! Enough with the angst and the self-recrimination. She was getting off easy-thirty days instead of years in prison and a record that would follow her for life. Thirty days of letting him pretend to own her. Thirty days of dirty games. For that's all they were, in the end. Just games.

She was a quick study. He had to give her that. She was docile and obedient, compliant to his every demand. She even seemed to like what he gave her. She begged so sweetly to be allowed to come. She gasped so prettily when leather, wood and rattan struck her skin, leaving their fiery marks and making her cry...