“It’s what I see,” she answered vaguely.
“You care to explain that?”
“I sleep on the ground. I crawl the earth—at least I did. There’s a world beneath our feet that’s as interesting to me as the one above it. Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. Draw what you like. I was just curious. I figured I had a right to know that you weren’t doing something subversive.”
She smiled faintly. Reaching in, she deftly snatched the sketchbook from his hand and returned to the floor.
He watched for a couple of minutes, though the tablet was once more hidden from view, and he returned to his work.
***
The scene of Daniel and Lisle spending quiet evenings in the office, Daniel working, Lisle drawing, repeated every day for the next several weeks. Most nights when the two were tired Lisle would timidly ask to be dismissed and, with a nod, Daniel would send her off to bed. Though the sexual heat between them had been subtlety building all evening, the abrupt change seemed to trigger a strong wave of lust in them both. At the office door Lisle would turn back and wait until he noticed her, then she’d give him a childish wave of her hand and a delicate but seductive smile that signaled her desire. The artful ruse rarely failed to snatch him away from whatever he was doing. A few minutes later, after he was sure she was in bed, he climbed the stairs and went directly to her room where he mounted her lusciously laid out body. Some nights, he fucked her without foreplay, coming fast and hard in her ravenous cunt, shooting his seed as quickly as his body allowed. He finished off leaving her gasping for more. More often however, he played with her roughly before they screwed. He spanked her till she screamed; he slapped her face, her breasts, her pussy and ass, taking the frantic rise in her sexual energy as a signal that she was getting what she craved. He used her pussy and mouth, sometimes going back and forth from one to another. Normally, he didn’t hesitate shoving his cock in a woman’s ass; the sensation of the taut channel milking his erection fired up his sadist in a way a straight fuck never would. But for some reason, incomprehensible to him, he avoided taking Lisle there. Never seemed like the right time, and some inner arbiter held him back. On a subconscious level he’d made anal sex a marker in their domestic relationship that would signal a dramatic change between them.
Never before in his sexual life had he pandered to any female, held back or even thought about what might be right and fitting behavior with a lover—or a slave. But what was right for the girl weighed heavily on him. For perhaps the first time in his life, he took a woman’s welfare more seriously than his own sexual need. The knowledge that he could have toughened his stance and have Lisle enslaved within the space of day was never far from his thoughts. Sometimes the urge was almost too much to resist. Sometimes he wanted to kick down her doors, put her in shackles and have her perpetually chained at his feet. She wouldn’t fight him if he tried; he knew this much was true—and a great part of her wanted exactly that. But despite his sometimes intense desire to enslave the girl, it was an urge he managed to shove aside. Maybe he’d enslave her; maybe that was right for them both; but he was still wary of any long term entanglements with women and wary of committing too much to a vulnerable female who he believed needed more than the life of a slave to make her happy.
He wouldn’t take her anally until they were ready for the next step. Nor would they sleep in the same bed. Every night after a relentless screwing that left them both breathless and sated, he retreated to his own room and they slept in separate beds.
Two weeks after their new routine began, Marcus called to ask if Daniel had had a chance to dig into the computer—which he had not.
“How about just do it because I have a…a feeling about that thing?”
“A feeling. You have a feeling?”
“Yes, a gut level hunch that you really need to check that out. I must have had a dozen conversations with the man that left me wondering about so many things. Maybe he was just teasing me for the sport of it but…” He stopped suddenly, leaving a gaping silence between them.
“But what…?”
“You know, I really don’t know what more to say. Just do it, Dan. Please.”
After brooding over the conversation for nearly an hour, Daniel finally, reluctantly, dragged the computer equipment from underneath his glass bookshelves. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lisle’s eyes dart toward the cardboard box. Although she returned to her drawing, he sensed that she had one keen eye focused on his every move as he set the monitor and keyboard on his desk, plugged in the components and booted the PC. Once it opened to the generic entry screen, he spent the next three hours attempting to maneuver through several complex layers of security to get to the guts of what was inside. The longer he worked, the more he realized that there might be something to Marcus’ suspicions about Brauer’s activities if it were necessary to hide behind so many blocks and passwords. He had a decent understanding of basic computer security that could normally work around barriers like the ones he saw here with little problem. But not this time. He pulled out every trick he knew but every effort to get past the security failed and left him baffled and grousing.
“Fuck this!” he finally sat back, then pushing away from his desk and he stood, fuming. Moving to the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of Scotch from the liquor cabinet and poured a drink, which he downed in one gulp. He poured a second and returned to his office having decided that he’d give the computer no more than another hour of his time. However, when he came back through the door he saw Lisle in his desk chair with her fingers flying over the keyboard. He didn’t stop her, rather he stood behind her while she whizzed through screens that were unintelligible to him. Within sixty seconds of returning to his office, the computer opened with a list of its files finally in plain sight.
“You got in?” he acknowledged the obvious.
“Yes, sir.” She looked back over her shoulder.
His eyes narrowed on her, his irritation showing. “You watched me work at this for three hours and now you admit you know how to get around Brauer’s security?”
“I didn’t get around it. I went straight in.” She paused for a second, looking sheepish, though behind that sheepish expression Daniel detected a glimmer of triumph. “I designed the security.”
“You designed it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And now you tell me?
“You didn’t ask.”
He would have slapped her had he followed through with his impulsive urge but he settled on fuming a few minutes more. “You let me work on this for three hours and didn’t say a thing.”
She was too scared to answer.
“Exactly what do you know about computers?”
“Hum. A lot.”
“Really? And how did that happen?”
It took a moment, but she finally confessed the truth. “When I first moved to the Baron’s house, months before I became his slave, he handed me a bunch of computer manuals. He told me to learn them… be useful, he said. He told me I’d need the knowledge if I was going to be productive in the real world. I did what he told me even before I was his slave.”
“You just learned it on your own?”
“I had a lot of time on my hands and it was a fascinating puzzle, at least for a while. I set up the Baron’s computer and devised a security system. He said he needed it airtight so I made it as hard as I could to get inside. Over time, as I learned new methods of encryption, I added more blocks.” She smiled weakly.
“How long did it take you to learn this?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. A couple years, I guess.”
Daniel thought a moment. “How long were you with the man?”
“I moved into his house about eleven years ago now.”
Longer than Marcus suggested. “So you’re how old?”
“Twenty-nine.”
Twenty-nine was not what he expected to hear. Sometimes she acted like his sister’s thirteen year old; sometimes she
shocked him with a mature understanding of her life. But for all the time she’d been living under his roof, he believed she was no more than twenty-five, if that. For the moment, he forgot the computer and zeroed in on this new fact.
“At some point you went from being his houseguest to slave. When was that?”
“I was nineteen then, a year after Robert gave me to the Baron.”
“So almost ten years.”
“Yes, sir.”
This news was troubling to him though he was uncertain why. A long and disturbing silence followed as Daniel went over the facts in his mind, again and again.
“Did I do something wrong?” Lisle finally interjected.
Daniel’s attention returned to the girl. “No, no, you did nothing wrong. I just wish you’d said something before I wasted so much time.”
Her blush deepened. “I was curious to see if you’d be able to get through the security.”
“Testing my skills?” He cast her a withering glance.
“I’m sorry.”
He took a breath letting his emotions ease. “All right, so we’re in now. How about you show me what’s inside this thing?”
For the next hour, Lisle gave him a thorough tutorial through Brauer’s files. She showed him several sites where the man was known to spend a good deal of time. She didn’t suggest that she knew what was in his files, just how to access them. A few things surprised even her, but she flew right past the systems the man had altered, muttering to herself as she did. She seemed to be disturbed at points but she worked so rapidly that it became impossible to tell what disturbed her and what she passed over with hardly a glance. She wavered back and forth from surprise to elation to troubled dismay and seemed uneasy when she finally surrendered the computer to Daniel.
“You’ll need to know how to get in again,” she announced as she stood up and let Daniel take the chair.
“Good idea.”
After walking him through the myriad steps and passwords, she announced that she was tired and wanted to head upstairs.
“In my room tonight,” he said as she waited for his response. Her cheerless look immediately faded. “And bring the spanking paddle with you.”
This immediately wrenched her from a serious bout of gloom, in fact, she could barely hide her elation but she quickly grabbed her tablet and headed out.
***
When Daniel entered his bedroom Lisle was sitting on the floor, her back against the foot of his massive bed, her feet tucked to her ass, her head resting on her knees. Hearing the door open, she looked up. He stared at her for several seconds, looking tired but aroused by his own sexual thoughts.
“You know where my ropes are?” he asked. He knew full well that she’d have no problem finding them.
“Yes, sir.
“Bring me four. Not the long ropes but the short fat soft ones.”
She was about to stand.
“No!” he snapped, as he felt the darkness in him swiftly rise. “On your hands and knees.”
It took a second for her to react, and then as if her slave mentality suddenly kicked in she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled toward the closet where she went straight to his stash of rope.
Ten minutes later Lisle was laid out on the bed, her wrists and ankles tethered to the four bed posts with rope, her pussy open and juicing so much that it quite literally glistened in the dim light coming from the bedside lamp—the only illumination in the room. The air around her seemed almost smoky, filled with the scent of her sex wafting up from her fragrant pussy. Daniel peered down at her with his eyes nearly glazed over with lust. He reeked of savagery and domination, the very things she craved. They played this simple sex game nearly every night, but the bed and the rope—in the big master bed—were a new twist that seemed to drive their energies to a new high. Though she’d brought the spanking paddle with her as he ordered, Daniel ignored it while he went about punishing his peculiar houseguest. Houseguest? The term didn’t quite fit. But any other he might have tried—roommate, lover, friend and of course slave—seemed wholly inadequate to describe how he viewed the girl. He thought about this now for one split second then he swept past the concern and grabbed a braided cat ‘o nine tails from the top drawer of his dresser.
Lisle’s eyes got bright and big as he approached, then as he began whipping her tits and pussy they closed as she was taken into her private masochistic dreamland. He whipped her until her flesh was streaked and she’d reached a subspace high that made her whole body buck violently. She looked as though she were tearing the world apart in a terrifying battle toward the orgasm she desperately hungered for.
When Daniel finally tossed the cat aside and plunged his stiffened organ into her grasping pussy, she exploded, screaming “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck meeeeeeeeeee!” as she ground her body against his while struggling with the binding ropes. The brutal action of her squeezing pussy might have torn his cock apart but he’d been in this place before. He’d taken more cunts than he could count, savage ones like Lisle’s that demanded only one response from him. With long slow and demanding thrusts he took control of the frenzied girl and settled her wildness down to something they could both find pleasure in.
As he screwed her, he hovered above her small body, propped up by his arms, watching her face as his climax built. When she finally opened her eyes again, she was headed for the fiercest explosion yet and he was about to ejaculate. Neither one spent more than a moment peering into the other’s eyes, but they both knew that something significant had taken place. She shuddered deeply; there were no wild screams, no frantic out-of-control gyrations, just a long rushing swell of sexual energy consuming them both at the moment of climax. His organ seemed to burst at the seams as it erupted. Ah, the little bitch was a damn good fuck!
When he fell against her, he could almost feel her arms attempt to pull him in, though that was impossible with her wrists still tied to the bedposts. In less than a minute, he was on his feet, untying the tethers and setting her free.
What was awkward, but necessary in Daniel’s mind, was sending her back to her room to sleep the night in her own bed. Maybe that was a mistake, but he wasn’t ready to let his shrewd and obviously gifted houseguest have her way with him. He’d gained a new respect for her over the course of a single evening and he needed to think on this a while and not make any rash moves. Even the sad and longing look she cast on his wrinkled sheets as she was leaving didn’t sway him.
“You’ll rest better in your bed,” he said kindly. “Go on now.”
Chapter Eight
The Gaping Wound
The information located in Brauer’s computer set Daniel’s mind spinning with concerns that consumed him for the next several days. As Marcus suspected, the Baron was into a handful of shady deals with foreign parties, two in particular on government watch lists, the very people Daniel had been hired to ferret out. There was a lot of checking to do, calls to be made and meetings that took him well into the evening hours the next two days. When he arrived home the second night after the break-through with the computer, it was already ten o’clock and the house was dark, pitch black, except for a light he could see coming from his office. He peered into the room, expecting to find Lisle doing exactly what he specifically told her not to do—fool around on the machine she obviously knew so well. He’d hoped his instructions about the use of the computer would be enough to keep her off the thing, but obviously the machine held enough fascination for her that she was willing to defy him.
His irritation rose swiftly as he saw the monitor brightly lit and glaring into the otherwise dark room like a ghoulish ghost. He looked for Lisle but she was nowhere around. He even peered into the corners of his office where the enigmatic girl might choose to hide in the comfortable anonymity of shadows. When he called out her name and she didn’t answer, he strode toward his desk and peered at the screen, seeing at least a dozen windows and emails left open—deliberately open? He could only guess. He moved from one screen,
one email to the next with his eyes hurriedly taking in the contents before he minimized each one and brought up the next. There was no accident about the progression of frightening facts that seemed to jump off the screen. It had the thought-out feel of a PowerPoint presentation, every fact building on the last until there was no question in his mind that Lisle had intentionally left this for him to see.
“Lisle!” he called out, his voice way too harsh.
She didn’t answer and his gut wrenched, fearing that what she found in the computer had driven her away.
He recalled a distant tapping noise as he was entering the house, and as he tried to sort out what to do, that tapping sound came back, although this time it sounded more like a thud than a tap, the repetitious but slightly erratic noise getting louder. He looked away from the computer and noticed something strange on the far wall… a glaring rash of red streaks soiled the pristine walls. These weren’t made with Lisle’s colored pencils but crayon the color of fresh blood. He moved to the front hall and turned on the lights, seeing more of the garish red streaking his walls all the way up the staircase to the second floor. He dabbed his fingers against one waxy smudge and confirmed that it was indeed crayon, lots of bright and blatant crayon laid on with a force strong enough to momentarily ruffle his composure. He followed the stains to the second floor and saw that they continued to the third. There was something manic and violent about the brash strokes and the deliberateness of the effort. He grew more uneasy as he followed the trail to the third floor while the tapping, thudding noise got stronger and more ominous—like being drawn into a teenage horror flick. Though he didn’t scare easily he was scared now. Scared for Lisle, and for himself. As he suspected, she took her angst all the way to the fourth floor attic, and as he lowered his head to step through the small door he saw the girl sitting on the floor with a fat red crayon in her fist, that fist banging against the wall in front of her like a hammer. A large circle of red stared her in the eyes. He thought she might have heard him on the stairs, but she seemed totally oblivious to his presence having reduced herself to nothing but the gaping wound that had driven her temporarily insane.
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