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FOR CLARIFICATION - ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. ENJOY!

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RECAP:

"Now try to deny me that you're soaking wet, please. Humour me Elizabeth." He laughed drily, suddenly pulling her panties off, causing air to rush against her hot, wet skin. She practically came again, just from that feeling alone. The panties fell to her ankles, and she groaned at the sensations everywhere. Here she was, in a place that seemed secluded from reality, with a man who used her body as a tool of instilling pain and pleasure -- calling it all a lesson.

This was only just the beginning of the night.

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It turned out to be the end of it too.

Elizabeth woke up groggily in a bed. She had a pounding headache. Upon opening her eyes, she discovered it became even worse. The light in the room poured from glass windows. Her mind slowly put it all together, and she realized exactly where she was. She struggled to sit up, to see what there was beyond the window. Where was she?! Her wrists were bound with silk, yet the soft material could not camouflage the angry bruises underneath. It came flooding back to her in a vicious wave of pictures. Last night, she has been hooked by her wrists to the ceiling. Last night, she had debased herself in front of the vilest man she had ever known. Well, that was a given, considering these sort of men would kill you once they were done, so you only really encountered them once.

These laughable thoughts forced her to put up more of a fight against the fabric, which was connected to the corner of the bed. Her headache made her weak and nauseous, lightheaded enough to feel like she was floating -- even though she was securely tied down. Her mouth opened to its own accord, and convulsions racked her sore body. She was dry heaving, producing nothing but the taste of acid on her tongue.

"Don't think about it bitch, those are 400 dollar silk sheets," a soft, pretty voice drawled from behind her. The tone of voice was so at odds with what the woman had said that Elizabeth wanted to laugh anew. Her body convulsed again, the dry heaving spurred on by her dry laughter. She heard an exasperated sigh behind her, and then felt the slap on her face. The woman was now standing in front of her, maliciously eyeing the red mark on her face. This one had hurt -- Elizabeth assumed the drugs had finally worn off.

"Who the fuck are you?" Elizabeth managed to ground out, ashamed to finally realize she was naked in front of the woman. The expensive silk sheets were rubbing against her bare side, soothing the bruises on her hip. Her short term memory was mostly a blur, punctuated by her climax. It made her feel dirty inside.

"No one you should be talking to like that," the woman replied, looking ready to strike her again. She refrained however, and instead tugged on a strand of her golden hair sharply. "Your hair is disgusting, as are you." She snared when she talked. Elizabeth finally focused on the woman's face, and gasped. There was a long, red scar running down the side of her face, effectively almost cutting through her left eye, but not quite. The woman noticed her staring and back handed her face again, screaming "why the fuck are you gasping like an innocent little bitch? This will happen to you too if you don't get your fucking ass cleaned up!"

"The master is already not pleased with your dumb ass, passing out like a stupid little girl last night. Don't push it again, and don't you dare cry!" the woman was relentless in her shrieking. Elizabeth's head would not stop pounding. Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to effectively manage the pain, but it was pointless. The bonds loosened around her wrists and she opened in her eyes in surprise. The woman stood there with a wicked knife in her hand, and pointed it at her. "I'm gonna mark you up sooner than you'd like if you don't get up and into the shower!"

Elizabeth understood the knife despite the strange woman's words falling on ears deafened by the rush of blood in her head. The woman grasped her wrist and pulled her up. She then thrust her into a luxurious looking bathroom, and pointed the knife savagely at the shower.

"Now now Maria, you know that we don't harm the cattle." That voice -- Elizabeth's eyes grew frantic and her breathe stopped. No doubt it was green eyes perusing her naked flesh. The gaze made her skin crawl, and she grew even more frantic when she realized it was not all displeasure. She wanted to vomit, but she already knew nothing would come out. "So sleeping beauty recognizes me." He laughed and it was a dirty sound.

"Oh Vincent, this whore is stupid or deaf. A beauty she may be now, but I cannot wait for the day some rich ugly man fucks her up her tight ass and she sequels like the pig she is," the woman, who must be Maria, sighed. Elizabeth heard Vincent laugh, but personally found nothing funny. Anything but in fact. She wanted to hide herself; she leapt into the shower and closed the door -- only to realize it was glass. His laughter intensified as she attempted to cover herself with her hands and skinny arms.

"You can go Maria, I'm sure you have things to do," Vincent's voice was still shaking from the laughter, but had not lost its innate rawness, "you only, other woman to prepare and torture". Elizabeth couldn't believe his jokes; she stared at him blankly through the clear glass pane. He was dressed in a black shirt and pants again, a uniform for a mad man apparently. In the light of day, he was just as attractive as he had been under candle light. Her nipples peaked involuntarily and she hugged the arm across her breasts closer. A charming picture she was sure, as Vincent smiled at her again. A dirty smile, a dirty situation, she was dirty all over.

Maria left the bathroom, muttering something vile for sure. Elizabeth missed her presence; at least with Maria in the room, his whole stare didn't lie on her. "You're filthy for a virgin, you know that?" he redundantly asked, stalking towards her in a confident gait. "Nod, I know you agree. Probably feel dirty all over -- inside and out." This brought new humour into his eyes. She didn't nod, just continued to stare blankly as he reached the glass door and slid it aside. She vainly tired to disappear through the wall, but it wasn't happening. She still couldn't believe this was happening.

"We already know what happens when you don't do what I say sweetie," Vincent murmured, crossing his arms and leaning his body against the open doorway, "I didn't realize you were so eager for a repeat of last night". Pride be damned, Elizabeth nodded furiously. He smiled his approval, teasing her, "So you are eager?"

"No sir," she replied, terrified. He made no move to come closer, just stood there all self assured and powerful.

"You were nodding because I told you to?" She nodded again, not wanting to end up being that stupid girl that died because she was too damn stubborn to even survive. "And what is it exactly that you are agreeing to? Say it out loud."

"I'm.. I'm filthy," it came out as a hoarse whisper; she decided she'd say anything for him to leave her in peace. Maybe the glass windows in the bedroom could be broken. There was hope for her if she could keep her head together. He practically purred at her response, and stared pointedly at her crotch. Her pussy twitched in sheer terror of being the sole object of his attention.

"You'll learn to love it too, don't worry. By the way, I saw everything of you last night, before you decided you were too tired to grace me with your lovely presence and passed out like a rag doll," he smiled a feral grin, "of course, most ladies do when I'm done with them. Anyways take your hands off of your good bits honey, and turn on the shower already".

"Yes sir," she replied eagerly. She cringed from her blatant lack of pride, but reminded herself it was for the long run. What good was it if he beat her for disobeying? She'd never escape. She had to gain his trust, and run. Hopefully before she was sold to and raped by some unfathomable man. Better yet, before he ever laid his tanned, capable hands on her again. She turned the shower on, and cringed outwardly when the cold water hit her. She tried to manipulate the shower to warm the water up, but it never would.

"Whores don't get warm water sweetheart, it's breaking my heart to see you try. Now shower like a good little girl before daddy has to spank you again, and wash your hair. The shampoo's right there." Before yesterday, no man had ever seen her naked. Today she was parading herself in front of some unknown murderer and sex trafficker. She closed her eyes against the cold water; it pricked her skin so harshly. She grabbed the shampoo and rinsed her hair out 'like a good little girl'. She couldn't believe he was watching her, but it was hard to deny it when he stood right in the entrance, away from the flow of the water. Of course, he wouldn't want to get his Gucci shoes wet, Elizabeth thought relentlessly.

"Hurry up, you're trying daddy's patience," she heard his voice. She was frankly tired of the water too, but scared as to what awaited her when she was done. Foolishly, she stayed there shivering under the water until she felt a familiar slap on her ass, and the water stop. She pushed the water out of her eyes to gaze upon his naked chest. "Now now, we're going to finish off where we left last night, and don't disappoint me," a low growl, accompanied by his hands on her breasts again. She gasped as he tugged on her nipples, distended from the cold. She couldn't take this from him, not when the cold seeped into her bones from his stupid shower. She lashed out at him with her hands, and managed to land a slap on his face.

He grabbed her hands and whirled her around in an instant. Her breasts were crushed against the cold marble wall, and her face ruthlessly pushed against it. He held her wrists behind her back with one large hand. She was scared where the other would go.

He didn't keep her waiting for long, as he pushed her foot in between hers and kicked her ankles apart. His other hand came slamming against her pussy, still bruised from yesterday. There was limited pleasure from his warm hand smacking her flesh, only a torrent of pain. She sobbed, unable to contain herself as he proceeded to do it 4 more times. "The only way you touch me," he bit out the words into her ear, "is with your fucking mouth or hands on my cock." He used his leverage over her to spin her around, and pushed on her shoulders so she landed on her knees brutally. It hurt, the jolt of pain on her knees. She was eye level with his dick now, staring vehemently at it. It was thick and long, although she expected nothing less from this large man. She knew what was coming next when he grabbed her hair.

"You filthy cunt, don't piss me off anymore," his anger had indeed been ignited by her foolish slap, "suck my fucking cock and do it well, or I'll just sell you to my men downstairs and you'll be sucking their cocks even in your sleep." He pushed her head forcefully towards his crotch now, his dick scary from this angle. He tapped it against her cheek once, twice, until she opened her mouth. Elizabeth felt his cock invade her mouth; it took up all the space, she couldn't breathe. He cruelly pulled on her hair and forced his dick out, only to shove it back in. "You better get started quickly, I'm losing patience."

She believed him, and started to suck at his cock. She took her hand and put it on the base of his dick, like her friend had once told her she had done, and began to move it up and down. She wanted to gag, but the opening on her throat just forced his dick down even further. He groaned, noticing her panicked appearance. "Don't you dare try to faint again, you won't wake up this time," he threatened, as she tried to furiously contain his dick. She was inexperienced, but she had the right intentions. Her tongue flickered out to message his dick; his moan told her he approved. She worked him in and out of her mouth on her own; it was easier this way, without him tugging at her wet hair. She moaned when he hit the back of her throat hard, and the vibration excited him. She moved her hands to his balls, and felt them tighten up. She didn't know what that meant though, so she squeezed them and continued to suck on his cock, up and down. She rhythmically massaged him with her tongue, attempting to swirl it around his girth. It was hard, but she was determined to not get hit again; her body ached. There was a strange ache in between her thighs that had nothing to do with the pain though.

He tensed up, and pulled out of her mouth. She was so surprised, that she took a deep breath and opened her eyes only to see him pump his dick until he came all over her face. She felt the cum hit her in the mouth, across the cheek, drip onto her breasts. It tasted bitter, salty, strange, she wanted to spit it out, but didn't dare.

Vincent looked down at Elizabeth, with her hard nipples beaded now with drips of his cum to where it was in her mouth, just lying there. "Shallow it, you whore," he commanded her. She did, gulping it down with a look of fear across her face. This just wouldn't do, he thought. "Put your hand between your legs, and show it to me -- now."

Elizabeth looked up at the powerful man and didn't even try to pretend she didn't understand or hear him. She shoved her fingers against her vagina and pulled them out. Covering them was a wetness that had nothing to do with the shower. She gasped in embarrassment, to see her arousal on her fingers after what he had done to her. He laughed, "Good, next time stop pretending you don't like it, you filthy slut. Clearly it's getting you off. Taste it, taste what my cock has done to you." She stared at her fingers, covered in her own secretions. She didn't dare disobey again; she tasted her own wetness to please him. He smiled at her, and added, "You're welcome". She stared at him in disbelief, as he softly tapped his softening dick against her face in farewell, collected his clothes and gave her a wave from the bathroom door.

"Clean yourself up, Rick will be here soon," were his final words, as he vanished out of her sight, leaving her with a face full of cum and no orgasm of her own.