The Slave Ch 01 3

Chapter 01 Beginning of Her Dominance

Smack!

I slapped the sleeping woman hard across the face, leaving a faint pink imprint on her left cheek. Her eyes open instantly, filled with confusion and wide with fear.

"You'll sleep when you're told, slave." I say in a quiet voice. I slap her hard again, across her right cheek this time, leaving another pink imprint. "And you'll never look at me unless I tell you to." She averts her gaze instantly. Good. I like the smart ones. They learn the fastest.

The woman with her arms chained tightly to the wall behind her is a rare beauty, one of only a handful that I have managed to find during my admittedly short lifetime. She was maybe five foot ten, one hundred and thirty pounds, with long dark red hair that flowed to her waist, and deep green eyes that set my loins on fire. Her pale white complexion marred only by the light splattering of freckles that accentuated her beauty rather than detracting from it. Long lithe legs that seemed to go on for ever, but ended in a full, but not overly large round ass and pleasantly wide childbearing hips (which was a needy plus since she would be giving me my legitimate children sometime in the very near future).

Her stomach was flat and toned, yet soft and smooth, not an extra ounce of flab to be seen anywhere, and her waist was narrow, giving her body the classic hourglass shape that most men love, myself included. Her breasts were large and full and firm, resting high on her chest, not drooping a bit despite her advanced age of twenty-seven. Her nipples were thick and long and pink, and I hoped as juicy and tasty as they looked. They pointed slightly upwards as if made for me to suck on them.

Her arms were long and slim, delicate almost, though you could tell they some power because of the slight muscle definition seen beneath her taut skin. I could tell that she was used to working out, if only to keep in shape. Her lack of muscle development showed that she was into series weight lifting, but perhaps palates. Her entire frame seemed to barely contain an overabundance of energy suggesting that she had a high metaboliziem and liked to move a lot. Which is good, because I intend to exhaust her daily.

I had to be careful, though, and not let my guard down. From what I learned of her before I took her, she was a cop (still is according to the police and media who are both looking for her at this very moment), and a good one to. Had to be when most of her arrests were guys who out weighed her by fifty plus pounds. But I don't have many worries in that department. I'm ex military myself, and was pretty good until I was forced to resign to take care of my little sister and her cousin two years past.

I continued to look at her, making sure she understood her place at my feet was not going to be a temporary thing in her life. "From now on, you have no name. You will be called Slave of Servant, just like the others around here." Her eyes shot up to my face, and I promptly smacked her hard again. "Last time I tell you, slave. Do not look at me unless I tell you to." Her eyes once again averted, I continued.

"You will do as I tell you without hesitation, without complaint or you will be punished. You will not speak unless I tell you to or you will be punished. You will not attempt to harm yourself, myself, or anyone else ever, or you will be severely punished. Do you understand, slave?"

She continues to stare at the ground, tears running down her face, trying hard not to sob in front of me. I slap her again across her face, the imprints deepening in their hue.

"I asked you a question, slave. I expect an answer promptly. Do you understand?" I ask again.

"Yes." She whispers, barely audible, bobbing her head slightly. I slap her again, each cheek this time, further deepening her color.

"Yes, what, slave? And speak up, I can barely hear you."

"Yes, sir!" She practically shouts, her head bouncing ferousously, her eyes not meeting mine as ordered. She's learning fast, as expected. I knew I chose correctly when I grabbed her.

"The proper term is Master, slave. And you will soon learn it as our relationship deepens and you begin to trust me as a proper slave does. I will not punish you for it for awhile." She cringes as I say master, and tries to shrink into a ball, the tears flowing freely now, but the restraints prevent her from doing so.

"Now on to your duties. I hope you are a good cook, because you will be doing the cooking. You will also be cleaning the kitchen and the dinning room every day, floor to ceiling, scrubbing everything and forgetting nothing. Everything is under lock and key and you will be watched constantly, so don't try anything stupid. I also have one of my other slave taste my food for my at every meal every day, so don't try and poison it. I know you well enough not to want to harm another person if you can help it." Despite her balling, she heard what I said, and her eyes shot up to mine again in shock. I slapped her three times for the infraction and she looked away again.

"The punishments will get more severe the more times you repeat an offense, by the way. Also, we are no longer in the United States, so no one will be looking for you around here. We are on my own private island with no way off but a small airplane that only comes when I call for it. The man on the other end is a good friend of mine, whom you will come to know quite well as time goes on, and knows what I'm doing, so don't bother trying to win him over. I pay him too much money for him to be disloyal.

You will have exactly one hour of free time every day to do as you wish, as well as Saturdays off entirely. I'll have another slave make the food that day. After you complete your evening duties, you will seek me out for your nightly education; you will see what I mean tomorrow. I do not appreciate disobedience, dishonesty, or failure; and they will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. I will give you one month of ease to allow you to get used to your new home and duties before I try and break you, so enjoy it while it lasts." With that, I turned and left the room, leaving her there in the dark, cool room, chained to the wall in nothing but her panties, sobbing loudly in her own misery.