Introspections

The girl hung suspended in the darkness, the chill in the room resulting in goosebumps on her naked skin. The marks of her trainer's whip crisscrossed her back and stomach and occasionally she whimpered in pain, but she still steadfastly refused to cry. She had lost all sense of time but the ache in her stomach and her growing weakness made her certain she had not eaten for several days.

The door opened with a creak and she squinted in the sudden light. Almost instantly she recognized the voice of the man they simply referred to as "The Boss" and she tensed involuntarily. He had only visited her once since their initial meeting when she was originally taken and both interactions had been accompanied by intense pain. His presence could not mean anything good.

"This is her," the Boss intoned. "You said you wanted a spitfire and this one certainly qualifies. Her trainer reports she is still as stubborn as the day of her take. She also happens to still be a virgin, a nice little bonus for you."

"Still a virgin at 24 years old? That's surprising." Another man entered the room as the spotlight turned on, she closed her eyes against the bright lights so she couldn't see him, but she could practically feel his eyes on her as he circled her body, extending a hand to gently run his fingers across the marks on her back.

"He worked her over good," the man stated in a firm voice. "I thought your men knew better than to cause scarring." He grasped her upraised arm in an almost protective manner as he addressed the Boss.

"The bitch bit him," came the reply. "He may have gotten a little carried away, but I doubt the marks are permanent."

Releasing her arm the man ran his hands slowly across her stomach, pressing gently on her ribs. She twisted in her bonds trying to avoid his touch but he held her firmly in place.

"I will take her," the man said at last. "Your asking price plus a bonus if you bring me a bucket of warm water with some towels and leave us alone." The boss left the room without reply, and the man switched off the spotlight, leaving the door open to illuminate the small room. Moments later the water and towels arrived and the two were left alone in the dim light.

"Hold still," the man warned her as he moistened a towel and ran it gently across her back. She grimaced and held her breath, determined not to make a sound as he slowly removed the first layer of filth. She bit her lower lip to keep from objecting as he ran a towel between her legs but he made no attempts at touching her sexually and he was soon finished. The man then reached up to her outstretched arms, exploring her bonds.

He supported her body with one arm as he released her. "Can you stand?" he asked gently and finding after a moment that she could she nodded her head. The man moved away and withdrew a bottle of water and a small Baggie from the deep pockets of his coat.

"I am going to get you out of this hell hole, but they won't let you leave awake. These are mild sedatives, they will knock you out for a few hours but shouldn't have any side effects. Otherwise they will have to inject you with the same thing they used when they took you, and I understand that results in a whopper of a headache. Will you take them?"

It was the promise of water and her parched throat that made the decision for her as she whispered her agreement. He held the bottle to her lips and she drank greedily, then opened her mouth, willingly taking the small pills. The man took off his coat and wrapped it around her frail body, drawing her close to him and holding her upright for several minutes as he waited for the sedatives to kick in. Soon the girl was enveloped in blissful darkness.

She awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented as she realized she was lying in a bed covered in a soft blanket. Stranger still she found she was wearing a simple nightgown and her hair was damp, smelling faintly of strawberries. She realized she must have been bathed and dressed while still asleep. A few minutes later the door opened and the man entered, carrying a tray. "How did you sleep sweetheart?" he asked.

"Don't call me that!" she objected and the man laughed.

"Would you prefer slut, or maybe whore?" She glared at him without further response and he smiled. "Sweetheart it is then." He sat down in the chair next to her bed, setting the tray on the nightstand, lifting the bowl and filling a spoon. She reached for the spoon hungrily.

"Hands down," he ordered, holding the spoon to her lips. She was too hungry to resist further and she opened her mouth, allowing him to spoon feed her. The oatmeal tasted of cinnamon and while in her past life it would not have been her first choice for breakfast now she was so famished that she soon emptied the bowl. He handed her a mug of warm sweet tea and she sipped it gratefully.

When she finished he offered her use of the bathroom and she readily accepted. He led her out of the room to the next door over. "There are toiletries in the top drawer," he offered. "Use whatever you need and come find me when you are done."

The simple act of brushing her teeth was thrilling and she ran a brush through her shoulder length hair, pulling it back and securing it with a simple hair tie.

Leaving the bathroom she found her way around a corner to a simply furnished living room. He was sitting on a couch waiting expectantly.

"Have a seat," he prompted, gesturing to a chair directly across from him. "I am sure you have questions, but I get my answers first. What is your name?"

She hesitated but could think of nothing she would gain from refusing to answer. "Hannah," she quietly replied.

"Well miss Hannah they tell me you are a virgin. I could have checked when you were unconscious, but I didn't. Were they telling the truth?" This question was more personal and drew a hesitant confirmation.

"Where did they take you from Hannah?" The girl named a small college town in Arizona and he nodded in response. "College towns are their favorite hunting ground. You can ask me questions now, but choose carefully. I will only answer three."

The girl sat quietly contemplating for a few moments before inquiring, "Where are we?"

The man's response came quickly, "In the outskirts of Denver, about fifteen miles from the nearest neighbor and two hours from the closest Walmart." He intentionally stressed their isolation.

"What is your name?" This query caught him somewhat by surprise.

"You can call me James while we are alone, but in the presence of others it is Master." The girl rolled her eyes, but wisely looked down when he frowned at her response.

The next question was nearly whispered, "Why me?" He thought for a moment, carefully considering how to word his reply.

"I am not looking for a mindless fuck toy Hannah. I am sure as intelligent as you are you've come to the conclusion that you are here to be trained as a sexual slave, but I am also looking for a companion. I suspect you will be harder to train than most, but I look forward to the challenge."

She clenched her fists and he wondered if she would lash out, but she quickly regained her composure and remained passively seated.

"Enough for now," he said. "I have work to do. You may browse the bookshelf or watch TV but don't leave this room. I will see you in awhile."

When he quietly returned he found her standing at the glass doors leading to the deck.

"The door is alarmed, I will know instantly if you open it. Besides it is just over twenty degrees outside. I suppose you could try walking fifteen miles in the snow but I highly doubt you would make it far before hypothermia sets in. I know you want to leave, but I don't think you want to die."

She turned away without a word, returning to a chair by the fireplace where a book lay open.

He moved to the adjacent kitchen, where he stood at the island preparing lunch while observing her casually. Her back was facing him, but her fingers nervously twisted the bottom of her ponytail and he questioned her focus on the book.

When the food was ready he spread the simple fare out on the table and called her over. She stubbornly ignored him and he shrugged, dishing up his own plate. It wasn't long before the smells won her over and she joined him at the small kitchen table.

He let her eat her fill before beginning his inquisition. "You are 24 years old Hannah, and a beautiful girl. Yet still a virgin. How far have you gone with a guy? How many have there been?" She flushed and looked down, refusing to respond.

"Don't make me force it out of you Hannah. When I ask you a question I expect a response."

She lifted her eyes and stared him down, but as he reached for her she answered and he withdrew his arm. "There haven't been any guys. They've never touched me."

He raised his eyebrows, "Girls then?"

Shocked she quickly responded, "Of course not!"

Filing her response away for later he pushed her further, "Have you touched yourself? Do you masturbate Hannah?"

At that she averted her gaze, but again she was silent. "How often? Daily? Weekly?"

Swallowing she finally replied, "Depends. Usually a few times a week."

Grinning he gently tucked his fingers under her chin, tilting her gaze back toward him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of sweetheart. A healthy sex drive is a good thing. What do you think about when you finger fuck yourself?"

Reaching her limits at last she stood, lunging toward him across the table and battering his chest with her fists. He flipped her around, grasping her tightly around the waist and drawing her toward him pinning her back against his stomach.

"That's it sweetheart, I knew you had it in you," he whispered in her ear. "Tell me Hannah, or I'll make you talk."

She continued to struggle against him. "Suit yourself," he declared. "Let's go downstairs and I'll give you the grand tour."

He pushed her ahead of him out of the kitchen stopping at the top of the stairs and releasing her. "Walk down Hannah, I don't want you tripping." The girl crossed her arms over her chest and stood still.

Sighing he leaned against the wall to wait her out. Her legs tired before his did, he noticed her slumping and gently took her wrist. "Go on sweetheart."

Pushing him away she decended, stopping at the bottom of the staircase at a locked door. He slipped past her, opening the combination lock and drawing her through the door, which he closed and locked with the same lock.

"Extra insurance," he explained. "Should something happen to me you'll be stuck down here to starve, so don't do anything stupid."

The basement was partially finished and unheated. He escorted her into the main room. She tensed as she took in her surroundings. An obviously homemade St. Andrew's Cross sat in one corner, the nearby wall was covered in the traditional whips and chains. Pushed up against another wall was a padded exercise bench, next to it sat a wooden dining room table equipped with leather straps on each leg.

"Pleasant place you have here," she quipped, struggling to hide the trembling in her voice.

"Nothing fancy, but it will do the trick" he responded. "Strip," he ordered as he turned her back to her, approaching the cross. "I don't mind you covered upstairs, but down here you stay naked."

She stood staring at his back as he attached cuffs to the cross until he turned to face her. "The gown goes Hannah. You can take it off or I can cut it off, but I'm not going to continue providing you with clothing I have to remove myself."

Reluctantly the girl pulled the gown over her head, leaving her completely naked in front of him. "Are you going to come over here yourself, or do I need to drag you over?"

Her stubborn stance his answer, he moved across the room toward her, tossing the girl over his shoulder and depositing her unceremoniously in front of the cross. Surprisingly her struggles were minimal as he cuffed her hands, though she did attempt to kick him before he cuffed her ankles securely. "Comfortable?" He inquired.

"Not like you care," the girl grumbled. He grabbed the side of her face, forcing her gaze on his and silently daring her to look away.

"Contrary to what you believe Hannah, my concern is genuine. I have no intention of injuring you and unlike others you have recently come in contact with I am not sadistic. Aspects of your training may cause discomfort and when I need to punish you it will hurt, but I am not going to hang you from the rafters and whip you until you scream simply for my pleasure."

"Right, you'll just come up with reasons to justify punishing me and expect me to believe it's all my fault." No longer subdued, the girl was becoming openly confrontational.

"They already tried beating you into submission sweetheart, and it wasn't effective. I don't waste time using methods that don't work. This is not punishment Hannah, it is discipline. There is a significant difference."

Choosing not to continue engaging in a pointless argument he walked across the room to a set of built in cabinets and drawers. He returned and stood in front of her, holding up the toy in his hand. "Do you know what this is Hannah?"

"I know a vibrator when I see it. I'm not stupid," she scoffed.

Running the fingers of one hand teasingly across her abdomen he replied, "That I know, I never implied that you were stupid. How innocent you are, however, has yet to be determined. I think you will enjoy this, though I am sure you won't admit it yet." At that he flipped the vibrator on and ran it along the inside of one thigh.

"Don't touch me!" she snarled as he began the ascent on her next thigh.

"I'm not touching you Hannah, not a finger. Not yet anyway. Do you remember what I asked you upstairs? What do you think about when you masturbate?"

"That's none of your business," she insisted.

"You were bought and paid for my dear, that makes everything about you my business, and I do mean everything." He moved the vibrator between her thighs, settling it gently just below her clit.

"Stop it!"

He ignored her for a few moments before coaxing her further, "I will if you really want me too, after you answer my question."

Biting her lower lip and closing her eyes the girl fought to maintain her facade of control. He pushed the vibrator firmly against her groin, just barely brushing it against her clit before moving it lower again. "Sweet Hannah, how long do you think you can hold out? You needn't tell me everything at once, but you need to start somewhere. Take your time, I could gladly do this all day."

The silent standoff continued, the only sounds in the room the buzzing of the vibrator and the girl's increasingly heavy breathing. Every once and awhile he would adjust the position of the vibrator, teasing her clit gently before withdrawing it. Soon the girl was whimpering in frustration every time the vibrator was removed. As soon as she realized what she was doing she recognized continuing resistance was futile.

"Fine, sometimes I think about being spanked," she conceded.

"Hmm...do you like being spanked?" he inquired, again circling her clit.

She bristled in response. "No I don't like it. I'm not masochistic. I like thinking about it. That's why they're called fantasies."

"Fair enough, that's your start Hannah. Don't stop now. What implements do you think about being spanked with?" The teasing continued relentlessly.

"Hands mostly. Maybe a hairbrush or a paddle. Definitely not whips." Her responses were no longer hesitant, as if admitting loss of control absolved her from the shame surrounding the expression of her fantasies.

He nodded his understanding. "Agreed. While a whip handled properly does not necessarily break skin they are typically one of the more painful implements. It may be interesting to experiment with a flogger, but we'll leave that for later."

He teased her just a few moments more, "Do you want me to stop Hannah? I will if you want me too, or I can finish you off. Your choice." The girl sighed, surprising him. He had expected a stronger, more urgent response.

"Yes, stop. Please." It wasn't begging, it was an honest request, so he immediately withdrew the vibrator.

"See, it wasn't that hard. You need to be honest with yourself sweetheart, as well as being honest with me. I'm not going to push you further than you are ready to go."

He walked across the room again, sanitizing the vibrator before replacing it in the drawer. He then took a cup from the upper cupboard, filling it with water from a small sink. He held it to her lips and she drank thankfully. Placing the cup aside he gently released her from the cuffs, scooping her up in his arms before she could resist.

He took her out of the main room and turned through another door in the more finished area of the basement. The room was furnished only with a small nightstand and a double bed, which he placed her on gently. Moving to a closet just outside the room he removed a heavy blanket, tossing it on the bed next to her.

"Cover up. I want you to cool off, not freeze to death. Oh, and don't even think about finishing yourself off Hannah. I will know if you come." With that warning he left the room, locking the door behind him and leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Upstairs he located his phone and quickly accessed the feed to the infrared camera in the basement bedroom. He was fairly certain he hadn't pushed her too far, but he certainly had pushed her and he needed to be sure. She lay on the bed covered with the blanket, showing no sign of distress and obviously not attempting to masturbate. Appeased he went about his regular activities for the next couple of hours.

She startled when the door opened, sitting up and drawing the blanket around her. "Fold the blanket please," he requested and she complied willingly, possibly motivated by the terry cloth robe he held in his arms. When the blanket sat folded on the end of the bed he held the robe out, helping her slip it on rather than allowing her to do it herself.

"Dinner is ready," he prompted and she followed him out of the basement, where he paused to lock the door again before leading her up the stairs and into the kitchen.

She paused with some concern, surveying the changes. Two plates sat on the kitchen table, but one of the chairs had been removed and replaced with a well padded cushion on the floor. He barely succeeded at holding back a chuckle as she stubbornly folded her arms across her chest and started nibbling at her bottom lip. Oh how he loved that tell, the delicious combination of sheer will and carefully shielded nervousness!

Turning her toward him, he lifted her chin and prompted her to make eye contact. "Hannah, I need you to understand something that the bastard's trainers and I'd dare say the vast majority of his clientele do not understand. Any trainer can break any slave's will, given enough time and determination. However I have absolutely no interest in breaking your will. This is not punishment, nor is it intended to be demeaning. What I am inviting you to do is willingly submit. Choosing to do so does not imply that you are weak, instead it testifies to your inner strength and sufficient confidence to allow someone else to care for you. I refuse to starve you to force compliance and if you wish to do so you may take your meal to the bar and eat it there, but I truly hope that you will join me. The choice is yours."

At that he sat himself in the chair. He honestly didn't know what choice she would make, but he was not concerned either way. The girl stood carefully considering her options, unwilling to rush into making a decision.

She inched closer to the table and eyed the plate of food. He had prepared a simple stir fry with a side of fresh fruit. Hesitantly she moved toward the cushion, glancing at it uncertainly. He waved his hand toward the cushion invitingly, "You can sit or kneel, whichever is more comfortable."