Read the first chapters.
It's a work of fiction and everyone's fictional.
We're all adults here as well.
The sun streaming through the window. I stretched. Birds outside singing their lovely morning songs. I could smell someone baking bread. And someone cooking bacon. I realized I was famished. My tummy beginning to eat itself.
Looking to the window I saw a beautiful butterfly flittering past on lovely gossamer wings. A Monarch? Like I would know. I thought of what the day would bring. A breeze blew past the sheer drapes and cooled my body.
Yawning, I took a deep breath of the morning air. The sounds of the world coming to life filled my ears. Taking another deep breath I could almost taste the bread someone was baking. I'd have to visit the neighbors and see if I could sample it. Fresh baked bread is the best.
I could hear someone singing and the birds chirping almost in accompanying falsetto. My pillow so soft and the mattress simply divine. I thought I was floating on a cloud and the angels were singing and the sun was a warm ray of morning light.
Feeling feathers tickle my back I giggled. Thinking one of the birds was in the room. Feeling the feathers tickling my thighs I giggled again. Must be the butterfly, so gently using its silken wings to flirt deliciously with the backs of my calves.
"Wakey wakey," I thought I heard from the butterfly. "Wakey wakey now," I heard again. The gossamer wings teasing a bit more persistent.
"Time to wakey," the butterfly sang softly, its wings teasing up my back again. I giggled and wanted some fresh bread, tea, and maybe some bacon.
Giggling a bit as the butterfly insisted on teasing over my back, and down my thighs, I felt as if everything was just perfect. Wanting the birds to sing for me and the sun to warm me and the breeze to take my spirit higher.
"Wakey wakey now, it's time to begin your new day," the butterfly sang, her wings fluttering all over my body. "Wakey wakey, little miss big tits."
My eyes suddenly opened wide. Startled awake. My blue eyes looking back at me in the mirror's reflection. Squirming.
My dream, so sweet and beautiful, was simply that. A dream. With a muffled groan I returned to my waking nightmare. Waking to my own tortured body. Stiff, sore, and still tied down.
Still naked. Wrists and ankles tied and spread wide. Still collared. As I squirmed I felt the hook up my ass, connected to my blonde ponytail keeping my body almost rigid.
The butterfly was no butterfly. Rather, it was Mistress Jane running a vicious looking leather thing over my naked back and legs. When I tried to talk I felt her soaked panties in my mouth. Still taped in. Looking at my reflection I saw her over my shoulder. Grinning like some Japanese type demon. Like an evil clown. Like the Devil.
The whip in her hand was different. It wasn't the same one she used before. It looked like several thin leather whips attatched to one thick handle. I couldn't understand how someone could dream up something so evil. I was so innocent.
"I see you've noticed my toy now pet," Mistress said as she traced it over my body again. Almost like a gentle lover blowing sweet breath over the endings of my nerves.
"This one is called a flogger, though some call it a cat-o-nine-tails," she explained. "This is the gentle one. See how the ends aren't tied in knots or barbed?" she said as she ran the flogger in front of my face. In front of my unbelieving eyes.
"If you're good and do as you're told, this is the only one you'll meet pet," she said, as she began to flog my once pristine back. Each hit taking my breath from my body. Each hit compressing my lungs flat and making my body bounce on the bed.
Over and over Mistress Jane flogged me. All over my back making the hook and my ponytail jerk. Making the ball end plunge in my ass and making my head jerk back. My muffled screams filling the room. Then she started on my legs.
I've always been told I have nearly perfect legs. Long and toned. Perfect proportion. Long, lean and strong. My thighs smooth and supple. My calves toned with that curve only yoga girls and runners can boast. Even my knees are cute. I look amazing in a skirt.
As her flogger punished my legs over and over again I could only suck on my panty gag and sob. Crying at my early morning wake up call. Every inch of the sensitive backs of my thighs flogged. Every inch of my taut toned calves flogged. She even flogged the soles of my feet.
I was wide eyed and awake now believe me. My heart thudding so hard I thought it would pound through my chest and pump through the mattress and finally wind up in China.
At last it ended. Mistress Jane giggling and my breath coming in gasps. My reflection looking at me in empathy. Then she spoke up.....
Mrs. Rebecca Blaine.....two years and ten months earlier.....
I looked at the monitor in open mouthed shock. My jaw dropped. The email turning my blood cold. The attatchment stirring my liver in a swirling stew of serious stone cold sour. I dropped the pen I was holding and I think I may have even gasped.
Two months. Two months to forget what happened. Two months to pretend my life was normal. Two months with my dear Finley Anders, planning our wedding. Our lovely wedding.
And now this. A message from Jane. Mistress Jane. Asking if the wedding planning is coming along nicely. Asking if he suspects what happened. Asking if my pussy is shaved.
The attatchment was a video. Quite nicely edited. My naked body taking thick black cock in both my tight blonde holes. My mouth full of cum. My ass stretched.
As I quickly deleted the email, hoping the company I work for wasn't monitoring these things my phone rang. My office phone. Mistress Jane had kept my mobile and my new number was unlisted. If such things can truly be unlisted.
With a sense of impending doom, and a feeling of terrible dread, I picked up my business phone, answering quietly,"Hello?"
