She lived in a world of her own, oozing sexuality—she would have worked nude if he hadn’t forbid it. The second day she thought a t-shirt alone would suffice to comply with his requirement of clothes. But just one look at her bare legs and her plump, naked ass, fully exposed when she bent over, caused his cock to stiffen. Twice he sent her back to her room with the brusque command to put on more clothes. But even that did little to change the fact that they were both hopelessly aroused by what had been set in motion in their tiny desperate world. These were strange days for Daniel when he could barely work. The closer she got to the finish the more his mind reeled back to the man he’d been before—who never had to tamp down his passions to teach some silly woman a lesson. Of course, in those days he had plenty of other females to choose from should he need a good hard fuck. He could vent his desire in any way he chose. No doubt, he could have taken Alice in a heartbeat—she felt the sexual tension as strongly as he did. But he denied himself that option. He even denied himself a good hard romp with Valerie. He masturbated at night, but it wasn’t enough.
Every day he questioned his motives. Every day he tried to shake the puritan resolve that threw up so many stupid rules. But every day he reminded himself that he wasn’t the same man he’d been two years before, and for some reason his restraint in the matter was as important as making Lisle wait for her first trip to his dungeon.
It was ten o’clock and Daniel was flipping through channels on the TV when she appeared at the living door. “I only have the attic left,” she said. Looking bedraggled from another long day, she wiped her brow with the back of her hand and sighed with a weariness he could feel in his own bones.
“I would think you’d look more relieved,” he suggested.
She grimaced as if she was fighting off a few rash words. “I’m raw, sir,” she spit out with a degree of spite he rarely heard from her.
“I know,” he spit right back. “Take a bath and go to bed.”
“But—”
“Take a bath and go to bed,” he said with more emphasis this time. “You try to control what happens next, you conniving little beast, you will regret it.”
She stared him down, looking as if she was about to explode all over again, but as the tense moments ticked by, Daniel saw her face and her mood soften, the anger and irritation pass, until she was back in a submissive frame of mind.
“I’m sorry, sir… I…” she had more to say but stopped herself.
He fought against competing urges, simultaneously wanting to beat her black and blue, at the same time, scoop her up in his arms and hold her. He elected to do neither, and repeated his order more kindly, “Go to bed, Lisle. You’ve done enough for one day.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he watched her slight body move gracefully out the door, his spirit revived immeasurably, knowing that the matter of the dungeon was back in his hands, no longer dependant on the girl’s completion of the task. His entire being bristled with exhilaration as the fierce energy that drove his lust charged through his veins again.
***
The gauzy September day seemed to have a forbidding quality as a harbinger of the lousy weather that lay ahead. Low clouds covered the sky and the damp air was filled with rain that seemed determined not to fully materialize. Both Daniel and Lisle woke knowing what might become of the day, though neither would speak of it. They ate their breakfast almost silently as this was not an Alice day. They missed her chatter. They missed the liveliness she brought to early morning hours. When finished, Daniel stood at the kitchen door letting his eyes rest on the girl for a moment before he decided what to say.
“How about you spend some time in the garden this morning, that should be a pleasant break for you.”
She managed a genuine smile. “Yes, sir.”
“Just be sure you’re dressed warmly enough.”
“Yes, sir.”
He could feel her fluttering nerves and this aroused him—just as everything about this particular morning aroused the passions already building within him.
When Lisle came in at noon to make their lunch, the day was still a mist-filled flat grey. Again they ate in silence, although this time when they finished she spoke first.
“May I go back outside?” she looked at him hopefully, then rushed in to add, “When I’m finished here?”
He nodded.
Pleased, she jumped up and began cleaning the dishes almost frantically, while Daniel returned to his office. A minute later, he heard the back door slam.
While Lisle worked outside, Daniel continued his study of Bauer’s files, a task that had taken him deeply into the private world between Brauer and this girl. This particular area of Brauer’s computer had been hidden behind a number of remote passwords that required assistance from his Pentagon friends to break through. Just in case Lisle was unaware of what lay beyond the security, he decided not to ask her about it. Once he viewed the content, he was glad he didn’t need her help. He read through numerous entries a journal the Baron had stored there, browsed through the files, and finally decided that it was unlikely that Lisle knew the journal or the files existed. The notes were extremely personal, highly sexual, and ones he would not have wanted the girl to see. Even the hard bastard Daniel winced when Brauer’s ramblings moved into the strange and odious territory of his most twisted sexual perversions. He couldn’t be sure if the man was graphically detailing fantasies or real situations. Thankfully, many of the entries preceded Lisle’s tenure with the Baron, and none contained anything specific that would lead him to believe that the atrocities he outlined had anything to do with her. Her name, or any derivative of her name did not appear. In fact, from what he could tell, the women involved, if these were real women, were not the slaves that had lived at his estate.
There were however, other files, mostly video clips, that dealt directly with Lisle and Brauer’s other slaves, lots of them. Apparently, he’d taped most of the sexual activities that went on in the house. What he did with the files, other than store and maybe view them at his leisure, Daniel had no idea. He passed through them quickly, thinking he’d go back and study them further at another date. What was most significant to him were certain journal entries, including dates, places and names, which could prove useful to his investigation of Brauer’s black market activities.
He lost himself for several, pouring over images, videos and journal entries, and didn’t come up for air until nearly four o’clock. When he did, he looked out seeing that the misty air of the morning had turned into a steady drizzle. He couldn’t believe he’d been consumed with this for so long, and he had no idea what was going on with Lisle.
One thing was perfectly clear to him; the scenes he’d seen in Brauer’s files fed directly to his aching crotch. His dark lust rushed in, reminding him of his plans for the rest of the day. This time, he had no need to wait.
He moved quickly to the cellar and grabbed the few items he needed, then he moved back upstairs and went directly to the kitchen where he stood at the window and looked out on the garden beyond. When he didn’t see Lisle right away he was about to charge outside. Then emerging from the hazy shadows, the girl appeared at the far side of the yard where she’d planted tomatoes and beans earlier in the summer. She moved with uncommon grace filling her basket with vegetables while the gentle rain continued to fall. She was already drenched, her hair sticking to the sides of her face and dripping from the wet curls. Watching her further revved his engines and he could feel a scowl emerging on his lips as his need for her increased. Opening the kitchen door he stepped out on the stoop.
“Get the hell in here, girl!”
She jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up from her basket of vegetables, momentarily too startled to move.
“If I have to come after you, I’ll whip your ass right there!” he shouted.
Hearing this, she hastily gathered into her basket a few stray items she’d left on the ground and ran to the door, stopping just inside where a p
uddle of rainwater collected at her feet.
Daniel appraised her from a few feet off, dismayed. “You’re soaked to the skin. One would think you’d have sense enough to come in from the rain.”
“Sorry, sir, I was just…”
“Get out of those wet clothes now,” he ordered.
Slightly panicked, she began stripping down, peeling away the wet things and tossing them into a pile by the laundry room door. Once she was naked, Daniel handed her a terrycloth towel he swiped from a hook in the hall. “Dry yourself.”
Her anxiety seemed to swell as if she already suspected what would be happening next. Working furiously with the towel she dried herself while Daniel’s fierce eyes remained riveted on her every move. Soon as she finished, he grabbed the items he’d taken from the cellar and he moved close to her side, clamping a heavy metal shackle around her throat. Then with a length of thick rope, he tied her hands behind her back and let the loose ends dangle toward the floor. With his hand on her back he pushed her down the hall and past the laundry room to the open cellar door where they came to an abrupt halt.
Lisle teetered on the top step peering into the inky darkness, while he stood directly behind her hanging onto her bound hands. He’d meant to leave the light on but the darkness would serve his purpose just as well. “Go on!” he ordered, giving her a small shove.
“But I can’t see!” she cried.
“Then feel your way, slave,” he bit off. “I’m not going to let you fall.” He tugged on the rope to emphasize his point. Slowly, the trembling girl moved one step down the cellar stairs, then another and another, and the pair continued to move as fast as Lisle’s anxious nerves would allow. As she stepped forward, Daniel pulled back on the rope to keep her from tumbling over. With each step, a new wave of excitement rushed through the little savage and attacked him in the groin.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs he pushed her down to the hard-packed dirt.
“On your belly!” he ordered, the sound of his voice echoed through the empty air.
Though they were swallowed up in the pitch-black cellar, Daniel knew that darkness like he knew the back of his hand. He moved swiftly forward and grabbing the string on the light fixture he jerked down and the bare bulb lit up. The low light barely penetrated the murky air but in time, as their eyes adjusted, the space took on a mood as eerie and forbidding as that overwhelming darkness. The light-bulb swayed on its long cord causing the shadows to shift and change into ghostly specters that roamed the cellar walls.
From her lowly position on the floor, Lisle looked toward the illuminated space where he stood. Her eyes surveyed the scene with alarm and curiosity jockeying back and forth. Her exhilaration grew at a reckless rate. From where he stood, Daniel witnessed every subtle change in her expression. He followed her eyes to the ceiling above. Two parallel beams ran the length of the house front to back; another two bisected those, running perpendicular to the others, like the grid for a game of tick-tack-toe. They created an alcove on the illuminated side of the cellar, which was further defined by loops of rope in varying sizes hanging from nails in the upper beams. There was not one piece of classic dungeon furniture, no St. Andrew’s cross, no spanking bench, no rack; just a crude sawhorse covered with a thick rug and an old but sturdy wooden table. The perimeter walls were stone and mortar like the house. It was cellar, but it made one helluva dungeon.
With her curiosity piqued, Lisle squinted trying to see more clearly, but from where she lay on her belly at the bottom of the stairs, she could make out a just glint of shiny metal here and there, but little more. What she could not quite see were the rings and hooks drilled into the stone and beams above, and the pulleys that Daniel used to suspend his victims.
He gave her a few moments to adjust to the scene, then ripped off the brusque command, “Crawl to me, slut.” Resting his ass against the table, he leaned back to watch. He imagined that she’d crawled like this before, with her bound hands useless and nothing but her legs to help her inch along. She didn’t hesitate a moment, nor did she squawk about the task the way most female subs would.
Although he knew it would be an arduous assignment and one that he would relish and she was sure to hate, he was eager to move on. While she awkwardly propelled herself forward along the dirt he proceeded to goad her on, spouting out, “C’mon faster,” as if impatient and annoyed by her slow progress. “You waste my time, we’ll leave before you even start,” he snapped next. He even stood up and began restlessly pacing the room, which made her work even harder. But there was no speeding up with the packed dirt clinging to her flesh as if it were trying to grab her back. Maybe it knew what lay ahead for her and was hoping to prevent the pain, but still, she burrowed on with her determination never flagging until her dirt smudged body lay at Daniel’s feet, a good fifteen feet from where she’d started at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’ve done this before,” he said, looking down at the little waif.
When she didn’t speak he kicked her side and she came roaring out with a gasping: “Yes, sir.”
“On your knees, slut,” he ripped off next. The command was not easy to perform.
She hesitated for a moment, then finally bent her legs and drew them in one at a time, raising her ass higher with each movement until both were tucked beneath her and she rested in a tight crouch with her roped arms resting on her ass. “Up on your knees—hands in front.”
The command took even longer for her brain to process. Getting to her knees would be little problem. Her hands in front a different matter. A struggle ensued as she began to twist and turn, trying to wiggle her bound wrists over her ass and tucked feet. With a few deep grunts and a great deal of struggle she finally managed to bring her hands forward. She pulled up to her knees and was still panting heavily from the effort as she finally gazed at Daniel’s face. Her face, her belly, her tits and thighs were smudged with a thin layer of cellar dirt. Her body reeked of sex and sweat. Drinking in the heady aroma, he almost smiled, thinking how much all of this pleased him and wondering why it had taken so long to bring her here.
He had no more commands for her. Aroused by her struggle, he opened his fly and stuffed his stiffened cock into her mouth, drilling it to the back of her throat until she gagged. He briefly pulled away then with his hand at the back of her head pushing her mouth forward, he fucked her face in a steady manageable rhythm until he knew any resistance in the girl had passed.
Satisfied with her submission, but not ready yet to come, he withdrew, returned his cock to his pants and released her hands. Then, with her still on her knees, he bound each wrist separately and tethered it to a wooden strut above with her two hands a good three feet apart. Snatching a whip hanging from one of the beams he began beating her shoulders and back, her breasts and her ass until her pearly flesh was cover with red streaks and she was barely holding back her screams. Every blow was confrontational, meant to bite, meant to hurt, meant to put her in her place. She knew this, and knew what was expected of her. She grimaced and bit down on her lips to suppress her cries, but in time, as her body absorbed the blows, she began panting heavily. Though initially distraught, her sexual body responded to the stimulation and her arousal gained strength. Her face turned dreamy and she entered a subspace high he’d seen often enough in masochistic females to recognize the signs. As eager as he’d been for this himself, he acknowledged a need in her that went fathoms deep. She was no victim, like the long string of captured women he’d subjugated, but the kind of pain junky most sadists can only dream of. He’d suspected as much given all he knew of her past but this was the irrefutable evidence he wanted before he let the beast in him take hold. He had no intention of brutalizing her spirit but giving her body what it craved and her soul demanded. If he went a little too far, it would only be to maintain an upper hand and make it clear who was in control.
“You had enough?” he asked at one point—still feeling the need to be cautious with the girl.
She shook her h
ead adamantly. “No, sir!” Her voice was breathy and filled with passion.
The fire in him spiked. He untied the ropes that tethered her to the beam above but left the wrist bindings intact so the loose ends dangled to the floor.
“Your back to the wall!” he snapped, and when she didn’t move fast enough, he pushed the startled Lisle back with a hand at her chest, until her shoulders hit the stone. “Hands up and grab the rings!”
She reached to her side and up, but even on tiptoe the rings were too high for her to hold in her small palms. He hadn’t planned to tether her, but since that became necessary, he used the ropes that were attached to her wrists, looping them through the rings and tying them off. Digging into his pants’ pocket, he pulled out two alligator clamps and clipped them to her nipples, getting an immediate jolt of satisfaction from the agonized wince that filled her face. The clamps were connected with a chain, and just a single tug turned her wince into an agonized scowl.
Little Savage Page 16