Little Savage

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “Lisle,” he spoke gently but she didn’t acknowledge him.

  When he stepped further into the room the hammering stopped with her fist and the fat crayon against the wall. Another move closer and she made wild arcing motions with the crayon, laying on more red in a fitful, spiteful rage, and covering as much of the wall as she could reach.

  Squatting down behind her he reached for her shoulder. She angrily jerked it back but Daniel wouldn’t let go. He forced her back into his arms in an effort to tame the raging beast that stormed inside her fragile bones. She didn’t go down easily. But even with the kicking and flailing that followed—being far more violent than she’d been when he extracted her from the estate—he was too strong for her slight and now exhausted body.

  “Let me be!” she screamed as his arms contained her.

  “No, I will not let you be,” he delivered the message with a steady bravado he hoped would quell her fury.

  When she still wouldn’t stop the fitful battle, he worried she’d reached an hysterical tipping point.

  She suddenly tore from his grasp screaming, “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him,” with a feral strangeness in her crazed eyes. She banged on the wall as the tirade went on. “I hate you and this house, and oooohhhhh,” her face twisted into an ugly scowl, then abruptly the scowl was gone and her face softened. Her voice lowered to a delicate singsong whisper, “My kind sir, my master…” The rest of her wild rant dissolved into gibberish Daniel couldn’t make sense of until she came back raging as before, “I hate it all! I hate them all!” This time, he forced her back into his arms, and with her fist still clutching the red crayon she struck his chest. He felt some natural reluctance in the girl that made her strikes more tentative than they’d been when she was spewing her anger at the attic wall. Perhaps the sane Lisle still existed alongside this peculiar aberration, though he couldn’t be sure.

  “Hit me!” he snapped. “Go ahead and hit me. Right here! Right here!” His right palm banged against his chest while he kept her body firmly in control with his left arm.

  She paused for a moment, stunned—he almost thought she was ready quit. But that moment was short-lived and just long enough for her to gather a fresh burst of energy. As ordered—and she always followed her master’s orders—she began banging her fists, both this time, against his muscled chest. By the time she delivered her third blow, the zeal behind her efforts was beginning to wane and within the minute, the fury inside had reduced her to convulsive sobs. Those, too, dwindled quickly. The red crayon dropped from her hand and she sank against his chest, clinging to him as if she were afraid to let go.

  Daniel held her for a long while as she calmed, until her breathing returned to normal and he felt the woman in her return to replace the inconsolable little monster she’d become.

  “You’re going to be okay, Lisle,” he soothed. He shushed her as he would a child and affectionately stroked her hair. Pushing her away just slightly, while still keeping her contained, he looked down on her as she stared up at him with shining eyes. Her face was flushed with red blotches from so much crying, so much spent anger. A new trail of tears trickled from her eyes but she gulped back another sob in a determined effort to find some place of peace. “He was going to sell me…” She bit her lip and her whole face frowned with sadness.

  “Yes, it looks that way,” he said gently and he held her close again. This was not good news, nothing about that horrible trek through the Brauer’s computer was good; and if he were right, there’d be more disturbing information he’d uncover in the next few days. He was grateful for Marcus now, for his urging about the computer, even if this was the outcome. “It’s a blow, a terrible one,” he continued to console her. “But you weren’t sold and you’re not going to be sold to anyone. Ever. I promise you that.”

  She lifted her head. “Can you really promise that?”

  “Yes, I can, Lisle. You’re here, you’re safe and no one’s going to hurt you.”

  She searched his face to verify the truth, then took several cleansing breaths in an effort to let go the pain. With every breath, she seemed to regain more of herself and the woman she was becoming as she left the scared little savage behind.

  He finally smiled at her. “You suppose we could get off this floor, girl? My legs are beginning to cramp.”

  She offered up a weak grin. “Oh sir, I’m sorry.” Pulling out of his arms, she effortlessly rose to his feet, while Daniel struggled to stand on his stiff legs.

  “How about we go downstairs,” he suggested.

  He didn’t need her answer. Gathering her into his side and holding her firmly, he led her out of the attic. As they traveled down two flights of stairs to the second floor, Lisle gazed at the streaked walls with some amazement.

  “I did this, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did. You remember that?”

  “Hmm. I think I do, but I couldn’t stop myself. I had so much hate in me.” She stopped abruptly at the bottom of the third floor stairs. “But I don’t hate you, I don’t. I really don’t.”

  “I know that. A lot gets said in a fit of rage that we don’t mean. Don’t have to think about that now. If you need to talk about it later, we will. You hungry?”

  She shook her head. “But if you are—”

  “I ate before I got home.”

  “Then I think I’d like to lie down.” They stood in the hallway in front of her room and across from the stairwell space that she’d made her cage. He could see that she was troubled and uncertain where she wanted to spend the night.

  “If it would make you feel any better, you can spend the night with me. I’m not talking about sex, I’m sure you need to sleep.”

  “Well, actually, I was thinking—” she started, but then abruptly shook off the thought and said instead, “Yes, thank you. I’d like that.”

  Lisle climbed in bed first and, after taking off his clothes and spending a few minutes in the bathroom, Daniel climbed in beside her, staying a safe distance away. He wanted her there because he feared what she’d do if she didn’t sleep. Her mind could run in circles; and she was as impulsive as she was smart. Better she be with him than he worry about her all night and not sleep himself. His plan seemed sound, however the wildness of the crazy night left him achingly horny. She was apparently turned on too, and after a few minutes trying to fall asleep in the silence of the dark room, she scrambled in beside him with her warm, naked body resting against him, her right hand drifting downward and running lightly across his crotch.

  He couldn’t take but a few seconds of this. “You can’t do that and expect me to fall asleep.”

  “But I don’t think I can sleep. I want to make love to you, sir—to thank you.”

  “Words are plenty enough.”

  Her hand withdrew. “You don’t want sex?”

  He turned to his side again and her hand began to fish its way between his thighs in search of his rising erection. He tried to push it back, saying, “Of course I do. I’m just not sure this is a good time.”

  “Oh, but it is!” She didn’t wait for him to respond and by the time the ravenous girl was writhing her warm crotch against his leg, he had no argument left. She suddenly dove under the covers seeking his cock with her mouth; finding it, she sucked the crown for a while, curling her tongue round the head. Then her lips tightened on the shaft and she swallowed the whole organ, giving him a blowjob with such masterful skill that he knew she’d been specifically trained for this. The action of the sucking muscles set off a string of pleasurable spasms through his groin that built quickly. His dark thoughts led him on and soon he was pressing his hand against the back of her head, demanding she continue, turning a voluntary act of gratitude into a compulsory one. Gratitude would be a thin excuse for this; she was hornier than he’d ever seen her. In response, he brutally squeezed an ass cheek with one hand while he massaged her breasts with the other until he felt her body spike from the pain.

  The action of her remarkable mouth and
wet lips brought him almost to the brink of orgasm, but her aggressive behavior had put her in charge, and despite the terrible pain she’d suffered that night, he would not allow her to control any sexual situation. She’d settled in, apparently believing he’d come in her mouth and working avidly to that end—but coming in her mouth would wait for another night. Grabbing her by the hair, he dragged her up his body, pushed away the covers and set her on his crotch. Lifting her onto his stiff erection, he jerked down on her hips, sending his organ deep into the small tight space. Her pussy was already spasming, her inner muscles working his erection with the same ferocity as her mouth. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he pulled her down to his chest. Their first full-fledged mouth to mouth kiss began with a delicacy rare for the brusque lover he was. He savored her eager willing lips, the smell of her sex, her slender squirming body, the lightness of her spirit. For a moment it seemed as if she’d left her troubles by the side of the bed when she climbed in.

  Kissing her tenderly wasn’t easy for him, and it didn’t last long. Devouring her lips was more his style, so he devoured them too. But with his raging hard-on demanding more, he gave up kissing altogether. Throwing aside any reservations that might have caused him to hold back before, he grasped her ass cheeks in his hands and rammed his organ deep. They groveled across the sweaty sheets, the two grabbing at each other, clinging, clutching, mauling body parts like voracious beasts, while the smacking sounds of their fucking flesh joined their cries of rapture in the steamy night air.

  He began to erupt, groaning as he did, shooting jets of cum inside her juicy snatch while she milked every drop of seed with her explosive climax.

  “God yes!” she came up screaming and he forced her lips back to his mouth. The tempestuous embrace continued until they both were spent, and they fell away exhausted.

  As the last of their spasms subsided, they lay as they had before, side by side. This time however, all the turbulent energy from the attic had been sated and they both would sleep. Though the air about them was infused with the sexy stench of coming, it was a pungent smell Daniel savored. It meant conquest, the triumph of an unrepentant sadist, and tonight, an entirely new something he couldn’t yet name. If he decided to revisit the feeling at all, or understand what it meant, he’d do it another time.

  He was about to drift off when he felt Lisle’s hand on his thigh again.

  “What do you need, Lisle?”

  He woke enough to listen to her answer. “The dungeon, sir.”

  He thought a moment—about the night, the computer, the explosion in his attic and the red crayon marks still streaking his bare white walls. “Yes, I suppose you do need the dungeon,” he agreed. “I imagine I do, too. But not tonight. Tonight, you’ll sleep. And if you don’t bother me, so will I.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Apparently happy with that answer, she curled up in a ball and fell asleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Into The Cellar

  At nine the following morning, Daniel returned from his early morning outing to the hardware store with two gallons of white paint, brushes, rollers, drop-cloths, putty knifes and scrapers.

  Alice and Lisle were in the kitchen eating. By the looks and sounds of their conversation, Alice knew nothing about the red crayon streaking his bright white walls. Setting his purchases on the kitchen counter he looked directly at Lisle. “Ever do any house painting?”

  She shook her head. “No sir.”

  “Then it’s time you learned.”

  Alice gazed back and forth at the two, still in the dark. “What’s going on?”

  “Look in the front hall and you’ll see.”

  Daniel and Lisle waited silently as Alice darted into the foyer, raced up the stairs and down again, then finally arrived back in the kitchen, her face filled with alarm. “So what three year old did you let run loose in here with red crayon?” She saw Lisle’s bright blushing face and backed off, wincing over her own blurted comment.

  “You ever do any painting?” Daniel asked her.

  “I’ve done a ton,” Alice answered.

  “Good. Then show her how. But Lisle’s going to do the work, not you.” He turned, zeroing in on the embarrassed girl. “When every last streak of red is painted over and my house looks like new again, you’ll get what you want.” He didn’t need to spell it out any better than that, she knew exactly what he meant.

  By then, Alice had put two and two together coming to her own conclusion about the previous night based on the violent display on her employer’s walls. After showing Lisle how to scrape the crayon marks and sand them down, Alice started her on the second floor, then moved back downstairs and confronted Daniel in his office.

  She spoke in a hushed voice—afraid of listening ears. “What is this? I leave the house yesterday afternoon with Lisle happily reading in the living room. Less than twenty-four hours later, this—?” she gesticulated toward the red smudges on the office wall, the worst of Lisle’s violent art. Just seeing the disturbing display was reason to shudder.

  “Meltdown,” Daniel explained simply.

  “Is she crazy?”

  “I don’t think so. In fact, she’s probably saner now than she’s been at any time since she’s been here.”

  “What the hell did you do?”

  “Very little. In fact, you’d be proud of my restraint.” He wasn’t about to tell her about the tenderness and the affection, or any of the passionate feelings that had risen in him when he found her in the attic.

  “So?” She stood with a hand on her hip, lips pursed, her brows narrowed in a purposeful stare. “You going to tell me why or keep me guessing?”

  Daniel considered her question, reminding himself that behind the goofy clothes and her odd ideas about the world that Alice’s character was rock solid and not about to falter hearing the information explaining Lisle’s temporary break. “This goes nowhere,” he spoke crisply, leveling her with a piercing stare. “I’m telling you because you need to know. I finally broke into the computer Marcus lifted from Brauer’s estate, rather Lisle broke into it—we’ll talk about how that happened later.” His mind went back to that remarkable scene, then he shook it off. “Anyway, from everything I’ve seen in that machine,” he nodded to the computer on his desk, “Brauer had been making arrangements to sell her on the black market. Maybe he was trying to arrange for her care knowing he was dying. Maybe he was just disposing of his property—I still haven’t a clue if the man really cared for her.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t,” Alice snapped.

  “Eventually, I hope that Lisle will shed some light on the issue but in the interests of keeping her sane, I thought I’d better take my time before I start grilling her about her life with the Baron.”

  The housekeeper was too stunned for words, her face ashen, her mouth agape. No glib retort seemed appropriate for this.

  “I still have some digging to do, a few calls to make to see how far he got with his plans. Unfortunately, it was Lisle who first discovered this, not me. The fact that Brauer had her on the auction block was, well…” he breathed out heavily and shook his head, “well, you can see by the results that she didn’t take the news very well.”

  “Woah, that’s really crazy, poor thing. You sure she’s okay? I mean, maybe she should see someone… like a therapist?”

  “And tell them what?”

  Alice thought hard, then she sighed. “Yeah, I see your point.”

  “I’m doing what needs to be done. Lisle’s fine for now. As far as this business of selling her, you don’t need to know any more than that. I don’t know if Lisle’s life is in any danger. It’s probably not, but that’s what I aim to find out. You’ll know if there’s any reason for concern but I think for now she’s reasonably safe.”

  For the first time since he’d known her, the unshakable Alice looked truly shaken.

  “You mean that there’s a chance she’s not?”

  “Don’t get worried. Fear is the las
t thing we want to communicate to Lisle. You be her rock.”

  “No, you’re the ‘rock’, I’m just her friend.”

  “Then be her friend, you’re very good at that, far better than me.”

  “You know if she ever needs a place to go, a safe place, she can stay with me.”

  “I appreciate the offer. But if that should become necessary, Alice, that would put you at risk too and I won’t do that.”

  “Well,” she took a breath to clear her head. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ve heard enough.”

  “Understood. Just don’t panic. There’s no reason to now and hopefully there never will be.

  He seemed to satisfy her with that; he only wished he was as certain as he sounded.

  ***

  It took most of three days for Lisle to finish scraping, sanding and painting over the red smudges in the office and along the stairwells. The attic would require replacing wallboard and would have to wait another day or two. Other than asking Alice an occasional question about the job, she worked on her own without prompting, diligently scraping, sanding and painting from six in the morning until ten at night. Daniel insisted she stop at that hour, take a bath and go to bed. He even had to insist she take time to eat, and when she seemed likely to grab an apple or breeze through a few bites of leftover pasta, he ordered her to sit at the table and have a decent meal. Was this what it was like to parent an obstreperous teenager?

  Behind her diligence and determination, Daniel could feel a fire burning in her belly. He couldn’t be sure, because she wasn’t telling and he wasn’t about to ask, but at first it seemed she was still working out the anguished torment that started when she learned the truth from Brauer’s computer. But as the hours moved slowly by Daniel could feel Lisle’s energies shift into something darkly sexual, bringing up the kind of fire that fueled sadomasochistic scenes in dank and dreary dungeons. He had no concrete evidence of this he could actually point to, but he’d long ago fine-tuned his sixth sense when it came to women under duress. He had to know their moods and understand their likely behavior in order to remain in control of any situation. Though this was an ability he found little use for in civil society, he understood that Lisle wasn’t all that different from the women who passed through his training camps and brothels. But far more than those faceless females, she knew exactly what she needed to end the personal torment that loomed menacingly over her as she scrubbed the walls with painstaking thoroughness. It seemed that every hour a new shift in her took place. Every hour she had more time to think, more time to brood about her bad behavior, more time to dwell on the solution she craved. She’d wanted the dungeon since she first arrived at his house—and she could have it now. He had promised her that much. The closer she came to finishing the job, the more he felt her energy swell and the more his body responded to that growing fire. A dozen times a day he had to fight the urge to suspend his rules and take her to the cellar. A dozen times a day, he had to quell the beastly monster that was determined to conquer the finagling brat.