Raven opened her eyes as the pain ripped through her body. It was dim and cool where she was and smelled a bit moldy as if she was underground. Her eyes strained to adjust to the limited light. Her head was throbbing and she could feel a welt on the back of her head near her neck. She tried desperately to remember something, anything. The last thing she could remember was laughing and talking to the charming gentleman at the bar. She excused herself to go to the bathroom....then just darkness. She tried to reach her hand up to her pounding temple but as she did so she realized she couldn't move her hands. They were tied securely behind her back. For a moment she panicked, then calmed as she understood she needed a clear mind to figure out what was going on. By now her eyes had become adjusted and she was able to make out some shapes in the room. Becoming more aware of her body, she now knew that not only her hands were tied, but also her ankles. The same length of rope was tying all parts of her body. There was a loop around her neck that ran down her back and wrapped around her hands, from there the rope went around her waist and then down her legs to wrap around her ankles. If she tried to move one part of her body, another would feel the pain of her efforts. She was laying on her side and most of her skin was exposed. Apparently her captor had decided to leave her bra and underwear on, the rest of her clothes were gone.
Knowing she couldn't move and that attempting to would only cause her more discomfort, she focused her mind on surveying the room. There was what appeared to be a table of some sort in the center. It was larger than a normal table, much larger and made of steel. Along the far wall she could make out what looked like chains that she imagined would have been used in medieval dungeons. Along the wall to her right was a sink and some drawers and cupboards. She shuddered to think what might be concealed in those cupboards. In the corner on that wall stood a door. The wall behind her seemed bare from what she could feel and the wall to her left had various "instruments" hanging from it. She took a deep breath and wondered about the type of person who had taken her to this dungeon. Just then she heard a noise above her. The sound of footsteps moved towards her right and then she heard a door open and close and the sound of footsteps on stairs. She found herself holding her breath and concentrated on letting the air out and then taking even breaths.
The door opened and a man walked in. He was in the shadows so she couldn't make out his features. Her first impression was of a man of incredible height, but this could have been heightened by the fact that she was on the floor. She strained to see his face and then heard his deep voice break through the silence like the crack of a whip "Close your eyes." It was not yelled, but his voice was like steel and she obeyed, not daring to tempt that anger that was behind that statement. She listened as his heavy footsteps slowly moved closer to her. It took all her self control to keep her eyes closed. Finally, she could sense that he was standing right over her. She heard a soft chuckle and then she was roughly pushed on to her back. Her hands were crushed under her in this position and she winced in discomfort. Her eyes opened from the shock of being moved and the pain radiating from her wrists. Just as her eyes opened she felt the slap of a hand across her cheek. "I told you to fucking close your eyes, bitch." She was swift to obey, her cheek still stinging.
Tied like she was, she couldn't adjust to relieve the pressure on her hands. She felt his breath on her neck and shiver went through her body. It should have been a shiver of pure terror, but there was excitement and arousal mixed in despite what her rational mind told her. She knew she should be trying to figure out a way out, but at that moment, her mind was zoning in on this overpowering man and she could only think to obey. She jumped and gasped as she felt the tip of what she instantly knew was a very sharp knife. Her captor ran the tip along her neck, just below the rope, leaving a red scratch in it's wake. Raven dare not move. Her chest rose and fell as she did her best to control her frenzied breathing. Suddenly, the knife stopped moving and simply rested against her neck. She could feel the blade pressing in to her delicate skin and focused on staying still. Before she could utter a sound the blade was removed and she relaxed. Too soon. Pain and shock surged through her body as her bra was cut from her chest. A small trickle of blood ran down between her breasts. A whimper escaped her lips as she heard the man give a growl of a laugh. She shook in alarm and yet in excitement. She felt her underwear being similarly cut from her and heard the man give an outright laugh. Her underwear was shoved in her mouth and she could taste her juices on them.
"Your body doesn't lie, slut. You like this."
Raven whimpered and tried to deny but couldn't get the words out. He was right, her body was responding to him whether she wanted it to or not. Once again she felt the knife against her throat and then a mouth on her nipples, alternating kissing and licking them. She held back a moan. He bit her nipple hard and she jumped from the force of it causing her neck to press against the knife. A gasp escaped her lips and she swallowed slowly. Her senses were in overdrive. Her mind swimming from the pain and arousal this man was stirring in her. Just as she felt like she couldn't take anymore he stopped. The knife was removed and she heard him move away. She wanted to open her eyes, see where he went but she dared not. Just then she was lifted in his arms and then placed gently on her feet. She had to struggle to keep her balance but she was grateful to be off her hands. Her eyes were still closed, her mouth filled with her damp underwear and her body neatly tied. She imagined she must be quite a sight. She heard a click and then the smooth sound of her captor's voice.
"Open your eyes, cunt. I want you to see yourself." She opened her eyes and found herself standing in front of a mirror that had been hidden from her view when she was on the floor. The image that confronted her both surprised and scared her. Her fear was not brought on by the way she looked, but by her response to it. Seeing herself like that was stirring something deep within her. She stared at her creamy white skin, illuminated by a bright bulb hanging above her. The rope was frayed and pressed in to her skin, and there was still a tiny trickle of now drying blood right in between her naked breasts. A small red line could be seen on her throat from where the knife had been pressed and there was a tiny bruise forming on her cheek. Her pussy was glistening in the light from her body's involuntary response to his treatment of her. She was exposed, naked, vulnerable, helpless. She was his. The thought hit her like a swift punch and she felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Just then she saw him step in to the light behind her and then bite down hard on her shoulder blade. She crumpled and the only thing that kept her from falling to the ground was an arm that he looped around her stomach.
"Tell me what you see," he growled as he took the underwear from her mouth.
"I see," she paused trying to think of what answer she should give. "I see a prisoner."
"Close," he said and then kissed along her neck, still supporting her with his arm. "But not quite right. A prisoner usually doesn't take such pleasure from her captor. Would you like to know what I see, slut?"
"Y-yes," she stammered as he alternately bit and kissed up and down her neck.
"I see a slave. I see a slut. I see a whore who enjoys being put on display like this." He smiled at her and then with one movement swept her off her feet and carried her to the metal table in the center of the room. He sat her on the edge of the table and then looked at her with an intense, unblinking stare.
"Are you a slut, a whore?" he questioned.
She paused, her lips parted as she wrestled with the question. His hand seemed to appear out of nowhere, hitting her cheek with such force that her head snapped to the side.
"I asked you a question, whore."
"Yes, I am," she admitted her shoulders slumping slightly.
"Much better," he smiled. "And don't look so sad. You make a lovely little slave," he chuckled.
She looked up at him and studied him for a moment. He was the same man from the bar, but in this setting, he had a completely different look. Pure power seemed to radiate from him, his movements, even his voice were strong and in control. A tiny shiver went down her spine as she looked in his eyes and she quickly dropped her gaze.
He slowly walked up to her and then pulled the knife back out from a sheath on his waist. He smiled at her then cut the rope from her ankles first, then her wrists and finally her throat. The blood rushed to her hands and feet and her body shook from the pain. She wondered if he was done with her, then almost wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdity of that thought. An eyebrow rose as he watched her expressions change.
"Amusing thoughts, whore?"
"No, I mean, yes. I'm not sure," the words tripped out of her mouth.
"Lay down. And shut the fuck up. You can't even answer a simple question."
