Hey guys, so I received a lot of hateful comments on my last chapter, and the only real reason I posted this one was because I owed it to my loyal fans. So in response to my haters, you guys know that if you don't like it you don't have to read it right? Anyway, if you like this story and would like for it to continue, please email or comment POSITIVE responses to me. Thanks!
P.S. All characters are over 18!
~Nique
Over the next few weeks I got used to my new schedule. I would wake at five every morning and rise from my mat on the floor beside my new master's bed and run his bath and lay out his clothes. Then I had to crawl up on the bed and wake him with a blowjob. I didn't want to even touch the sadistic fucker, and he was so old I was sure he wouldn't be able to make me if it weren't for his personal guards. They never left his side, not even in sleep, and they enforced his every command with brutal cruelty.
When the man woke, he would thrust his hips up into my mouth while I gagged and cried until he came violently down my throat. I had learned not to even try to wipe my face or get the taste out of my mouth or he would get angry, and then he'd make me, or rather his guards would make me do unspeakable things, things that I'd never dreamed I'd be doing. He would lick my cunt until I screamed at him for release, and then he'd stop and force me to instead bathe and dress him, pausing only long enough for another morning blowjob. Since he was far too old to actually fuck me, which I was somewhat grateful for, the bastard made me masturbate for his pleasure before he'd lead me along behind him like a dog to breakfast.
Breakfast consisted of me degrading myself in front of all his workers and guards, displaying my body for the entire hall on top of a platform like a common whore. If he deemed me particularly naughty or disrespectful or lax in my duties, he would allow his men to fuck me in the behind and mouth until I couldn't take any more. Believing I was a little too plump for his tastes, my new master refused to feed me, making me spend all my time chained to a table in his foyer, so that his men could caress my body as they walked in and out all day, so long as they didn't penetrate my womanhood. He was saving that for something special, he told me once. I was so weak and broken, my skin covered in bruises and cuts from my futile struggles against my new master's will, and my once lustrous hair dull from poor nutrition. I had to constantly fight the hunger pains and unbearable thirst. I had tried to simply give into his demands, but he enjoyed my struggles, and was displeased when I refused to fight. I simply could not win. My spirit was broken, and I wished for death every waking moment. I was no longer the proud young woman I once had been, I had lost my will to fight anymore. After all, what was the point?
It was one afternoon that changed everything. On that fateful day, I had been beaten by one of his guards for crying in my sleep. I had been having recurring nightmares for weeks, and my new master was finally tired of it. He had his henchmen chain me to the table, as they did every day, and they were not gentle. The lacerations against my back burned like the fires of hell as I was forced to lie on my back. My wrists were already red and raw and the chains only made my skin even angrier. Blood dripped off the table from where my wounds had reopened, and my split lip made even whispering painful. I was in so much pain I thought I was hallucinating. I was waiting for the next man to come along and touch my body, knowing I would be expected to struggle or I would be punished again. The he was there, standing over me, his brow furrowed. I let my eyes drop, deflating into the table, waiting for the hallucination to go away. But he didn't. Instead, he reached out and stroked his knuckles down the side of my cheek, hesitating slightly when I flinched away from his hand.
"Oh my precious, precious Little One," he whispered softly. "What has he done to you? He's broken your delicious spirit. I never would have thought that possible. But in the process he's also broken you." I just let the tears fall as I turned my head away. Seeing him was just too painful. I had ached for his touch, his teasing caresses and gentle words, those memories had kept me alive. But to see him now was only torturous as I remembered where I was. Just then, another man walked by and smiled at me cruelly, making me wince. This man I knew well. He was as cruel as his smile suggested, and found ways to abuse me often. The man stopped, as I knew he would, to pinch and twist my sore nipples roughly, causing me to cry out and arch my back, which in turn caused me to scream in pain as my wounds burned as if I could feel my flesh being torn apart all over again. My vision swam and my head felt fuzzy. I finally relaxed my spine, the blood dripping faster onto the marble floor. Though my eyes were filled with shed and unshed tears, I turned my head back to meet the Captain's eyes, hoping to find a forgiving face as I floated off into oblivion. He didn't look forgiving though. He looked stunned and horrified, with fury turning his eyes a much darker shade.
"I'm sorry. Please forgive me, one day," I whispered to the hallucination of my true master before my body shook once and I passed out from the pain.
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Devon Drake had stopped by an old client's estate to deliver a new set of particularly nasty whips, smiling to himself as he remembered this customer's violent tendencies with his slaves. He'd let himself into the foyer after passing by the security tower, and had seen the girl chained in the hall. She was incredibly thin, particularly for his tastes, but she was very pretty. She reminded him of the one girl he'd regretted allowing to slip through his fingers.
He stared down in horror at Danielle. He body was covered in the signs of abuse, and all the light had gone out of her eyes. She didn't even seem to recognize him at first. She flinched away from his touch and his blackened heart broke. Then the man had come by and roughly fondled her breast, causing her to cry out and he body to arch. The he'd seen the blood dripping across the table and leaking from huge, gaping wounds across her back, as if she'd been beaten with knives. When the man walked away, she'd looked up and met his eyes, whispering through a sore throat and a split lip that she was sorry, and asked for his forgiveness. Her body shook in what looked like a death throw and then she slumped against her bonds, having fainted away cold. Drake panicked, running his hands across her face and trying to wake her up.
"No, Baby, you can't die on me like this, you just can't! Come on, Sweetheart, Come on!" She didn't respond and he ran his hands through his hair, thinking. He turned back to her.
"Don't worry, I'll get you out of here. Oh god, you never did anything wrong, Luv, I'll get you back. Just hang in there for me, okay? Just hang on," he finished, storming out of the room and into her master's study, slamming the whips down on the desk.
"How much do you want for the girl out there?" he nearly spat at his old customer. The man raised an eyebrow.
"Well she hasn't worked out as I had hoped. She hasn't fought me like I thought she would, and she's got some real behavioral problems." The man chatted amiably as if the life of the woman he loved wasn't hanging in the balance. Drake nearly snarled as he thought about how the man had dealt with Danielle's 'behavioral problems'. He asked again through gritted teeth.
