Laura's Choice Ch. 01

Author's note: This is a story about a woman in her early twenties who has been abducted and kept. She is struggling with the conflict between her need to be free and a growing willingness to consider the alternative. Is it an advanced case of Stockholm Syndrome or the practical sense that her life will improve if she accepts the reality of her situation? She is reluctantly considering submitting but wants to probe where that might lead.

I hope this story is also fun to read. Let me know what you think.

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"What happened?" Mrs. Lawrence asked, looking both relieved and curious. Her eyes went from Xavier to me and back.

"Our presence was requested at the Sherrif's office," Xavier deadpanned.

"I know. Frank came by and told me about the raid. What did they want?"

"It was never clear," Xavier replied. "They didn't have anything so I guess they were looking for a confession or something."

"And they let you go so quick?"

"I wasn't in a confessing mood," Xavier explained as he went to the fridge, looking for something to eat.

"Laura, how about you. What did they want from you?" Mrs. Lawrence shot me a worried glance.

I had only been half listening to Mrs. Lawrence and Xavier. I was standing, leaning against the kitchen counter, looking at the walls, the stove top, the green checkered cotton drapes framing the window looking out into the compound. I laughed at the thought that the grass outside was the exercise yard for my cell, a privilege I could have if I exhibited good behaviour. I laughed again when I considered that good behaviour typically amounted to sucking Xavier's cock with enthusiasm. They both looked at me.

I was almost too exhausted to put a sentence together. Xavier pulled his head out of the fridge and looked at me with an impassive look on his face. I just shrugged and said, "Nothing."

Xavier studied my face and understood how far gone I was. He quietly said, "Laura, go get ready for bed. I will come up in a few minutes."

Without really thinking I moved through the kitchen to follow his orders.

*****

Laying on my side I stared at the wall of my room, really my cell. I knew I was too emotionally exhausted by the day; the frightening visit from Frank, Xavier raping my ass in the kitchen, the police raid, the interrogation, to comprehend what had happened at the bus station. Xavier's words were echoing in my head. 'I belonged to him,' but he also said 'My life was with him.'. The problem was, I didn't know any more who or what I was.

The unlikely raid by the Sherriff and his duputies on the remote compound in the Rockies was almost unprecedented. Xavier and his business associates, using the term loosely to include whatever criminal activities they were involved in, had always taken care to incent the local sherriff to stay out of their mountain retreat. The rumours I gathered that cirulated in the area were that women were kept in the compounds, sometimes against their will. I laughed at that. I had been abducted into what amounted to slavery. I had escaped but then recaptured just before the raid. I had the chance to run after my release but instead I just sat and watch buses pull out from the small city near the mountain compounds. I didn't understand why but now I was almost too exhausted by the events of the day to think.

I felt his weight settle on the bed behind me. His arm wrapped around me and he nuzzled my hair. "Baby, sleep now," he murmured while rubbing my tummy. 'Fuck!' I thought but my body almost on its own accord pushed back into him. Even his hard cock pushing into my ass felt normal, and totally fucked up at the same time.

*****.

When I awoke I was alone in bed. Light was coming in from the hallway. Something had changed yesterday but I still couldn't process what it was. My acts of defiance, my assertion of my identity since my recapture and arriving back in Tamarak Ranch suddenly seemed like foolishness. I couldn't step on a bus when the chance was there. Nor could I tell the cops what he had done to me.

Dragging myself out of the emptiness I pounded a fist on the bed. There was no way I would accept being a sex toy, solely existing for someone's amusement. I was a free human.

He stood in the doorway, drawn by the noise of my groan and the fist hitting the mattress. "Baby, are you okay?"

"Yes Sir, of course sir. I'm totally fine with staring at four walls all day waiting for you to come home and fuck me. Repeat endlessly until god knows when, probably until I go genuinely crazy." My eyes flared at him.

"Laura, that's enough," he said in a low deliberate tone.

"Sir, I apologize for the outburst. But will you tell me what 'my life is with you' means for the rest of my existence," I said, backing off on the tone. In a flash I realized that goading him into anger was not going to get me anywhere.

"Laura, you are mine is all you really have to know about the future. You will know what it is when I take you there."

"Xavier, what you really need is a dog, not a human pet. I'm just going to make you angry, don't you see. You could get a whore for when you need a woman. Then you wouldn't have to put up with this shit from me."

His eyes blazed for a moment and then the cool look returned. I was prepared for whatever he would do to me. I knew I had pushed him again but I didn't care what the punishment was.

He stared at me for minutes that seemed like hours. Finally he pointed over to his room. My own anger had subsided in the staring match and I walked with as much dignity as I could into his room.

"Take your clothes off."

I looked at the wall behind him, avoiding his eyes and did as he told me. He was going to beat me or fuck me and there was nothing I could do about it.

Instead, he put his hand on the back of my neck and moved me until I was standing, facing into the corner. "Don't move, don't talk." he said with surprising calm and then he dropped his hand and moved over to his desk and sat down, ignoring me. Was this it? My new punishment, being treated like a five year old sent to the corner. Except it was worse. I was naked, simply to elevat the humiliation factor. It worked. My face burned with anger and shame. In this moment I think I would have preferred the belt.

He left for a few minutes and then returned with a coffee. It smelled delicious. Mrs. Lawrence was experimenting with grinding different combinations of beans and the coffee, carefully brewed, was amazing. I wanted one badly. I was also starving. I hadn't eaten since midday yesterday. Mixed with the smell of coffee was the unmistakable odour of buttered cinnamon bagel.

He seemed to sense how shaky I was. My legs were starting to tremble. Finally, he said, "Laura, are you ready to talk to me civilly?" I suppressed a sarcastic laugh. I needed this to be over but how could I not respond to the term he used when he was keeping a slave. 'Civility, my ass,' I thought, but the answer squeaked out, "Yes sir."

He walked over to the bed and pulled a pillow and plopped it down beside his desk chair. He said, "Come here then." I turned from the corner and kneeled at his feet. It was at this point that I saw he had brought two cups. I eyed them greedily and in response he handed one to me.

It was heavenly. We both sipped on Mrs. Lawrence's decadent brew for several minutes, him sitting in his chair and me kneeling on the pillow between his knees. He put his cup down and said, "I will tell you what the future could be like. I'm going to tell you because there are some choices for you to make that will determine what your life might be like if you so choose."

He let that sink in. For me, I was dealing with the shock of him even alluding to the possibility of me having choices. The only choice I had ever had in his house was what book to pull off the shelve to read, and he chose all the books that went on the shelf. I couldn't believe he was prepared to explain something, let alone give me a choice. Since the moment I was abducted from my University and bought by Xavier I don't think I ever made a real decision in his house, except to escape when the chance came along unexpectantly.

Before I could answer, he broke off a piece of bagel and held it out to me. I grabbed it so fast with my teeth I was afraid I might bite his finger. He chuckled and pulled his hand back quickly. "Hungry, are we?"

"Yes sir," I said pleadingly. Coffee and cinnamon bagel were absorbing my attention. After a few more pieces carefully handed to me I regained control and asked, "Sir, what are my choices and how will they change things?" When and how I could leave his house were the choices that I really wanted to have. And then, from a dark part of my mind, I acknowledged that maybe I would want the choice to come back on occasion to have sex with him. God, my confusion ran deeper then I thought.

He looked at me intensely for several minutes, clearly deep in thought as I sipped coffee. Finally he said, "Your choices are to comply with the three simple demands that I make of you."

Well that was news. I thought there was only one: be a good slave. Instead, I asked, "Please sir, could you refresh my memory as to these three demands."

"You know what they are even if you choose to ignore them often. The first is total obedience to any demand I direct to you. Secondly is to treat me, your master, with complete respect at all times. And thirdly, to give me your sexual submission at all times for whatever I demand, whenever I demand."

"So if you ask me to jump out of a window I'm required to do so?"

"Laura, don't be stupid. Have I ever asked you to do anything that would harm you?"

I thought for a few minutes and really, other than taking away my freedom he had never done any permanent harm. The beatings with his hand and his belt had hurt physically but there was no permanent damage. The humiliation of being over twenty years old and held down over his knee and beaten like a child was worse than the pain. Could humiliation be harmful? Probably to the individual being spanked or lashed with a belt, but proving damage from humiliation in a court of law would likely be a tough go.

"Laura, answer me," he demanded, his voice going hard.

"No sir, other than taking away my freedom and humiliating me and turning my ass red and raw, temporarily as it seems, there probably hasn't been any permanent damage."

"Do you call the last three years you were away freedom? You were living like a recluse in squalor and hopelessness."

"But I could at least make a decision to go out and buy a pizza or have my hair done when I wanted to."

"So why couldn't you do that in these circumstances?"

I was rocked by this statement. I snorted in derision and glared at him. I was his captive. The door to my room was locked at night. The front door was locked. I was essentially in a prison. I was granted leave to go into the back yard on occasion. That was the extent of my 'freedom'. The thought of jumping in a car and going out to the Walmart to buy some skin lotion or whatever seemed as likely as buying a ticket to Jupiter.

"Sir. with all due respect to rule number 2, you treat me like a prisoner, a sex slave to pull out when your balls and cock demand it. I have no freedom," I snapped back, trying and failing to control the snarl in my voice.

He shot me a withering look, "Laura, we could end this discussion now and go directly to punishment for disrespecting your master. Or we could continue a rational discussion. Whatever you choose."

I took a few deep breaths. I knew I was pushing him hard. At any moment he could take his belt off, bend me over his bed and beat my ass raw. That would get me nowhere save acquiring a painful rear end. I needed to find out what he was possibly offering.

"Sir, I apologize for my rude response. I would truly like you to tell me what my life could be like if I adhered to the three demands," I responded, which, simply put, was to turn over my will to him.

He looked down at me and surveyed my body, as if reminding me that I was naked save for the tracking collar, on my knees and with really nothing left of my own except my will. He seemed to be debating whether to elaborate or just ignore me. I realized I didn't want that. I had to hear what he had to say about my future.

Finally he spoke in slow measured tones, "Laura, there is one underlying assumption for all the rules to have any effect on your future. The assumption is that you have fully, unequivocally accepted that you are mine forever and that your home is here, with me. If I was absolutely sure beyond any doubt that you have accepted that then the activities I would allow you to do, the places I would give you permission to go to are all open to discussion."

One part of my brain was reeling from his words that expressed thoughts I never, ever expected to hear from him. Another part of me asked, "So if I accepted my .." I hesitated around the word slavery, not wanting to goad him so I continued, "'situation', then we could negotiate what I could do, where I could go?"

"Not negotiate. That implies a power balance and your 'situation', as you referred to it, is that you are my property and I am your master and this means there is no basis for negotiation. You may ask me for permission to do something and you may explain why you want to do something and then I will either give you permission or deny the request. You will accept the decision without any argument."

He smiled down at me unexpectedly and added, "As difficult as it is for you to control your mouth at times."

Yeah, I thought, my capacity to submit was limited, not so surprising as I had been born into freedom. I had to pursue this further. "Sir, that would be very generous of you to let me go on my own to as yet unknown destinations, however, could you elaborate on what reasons would prevent you from agreeing to certain requests?"

"Laura, I must be sure of your safety before I agreed. You are my most valued possession and I can't let you go into an unsafe situation."

Wow, I thought. I'm his most valued possession! I snorted, thinking about what he would do with a belt or worse if I wasn't so valued. Best not to find that out. Taking it one step further I asked,"Sir, if I complied completely would there still be punishment?"

"Laura, surprising as it sounds I don't enjoy beating you. Its something I do only when your behaviour warrants punishment. So, no, if you complied there would be little or no reason to punish you. Even today, earlier, your behaviour warranted a spanking but I didn't do it. I feel that time out in the corner is something we can try to see if it is more appropriate."

That almost made me snap. The thought we had 'progressed' in my discipline such that the utter humiliation of standing naked in a corner as a grown woman was 'more appropriate', a softening of the approach perhaps. While still kneeling naked between his knees, I clenched and unclenched my hands and bit my lip so that I didn't scream at him.

He picked up on my seething anger, poorly hidden and wound up the discussion. "I think that's enough talking for now." With that he undid his belt and lowered the zipper on his pants and rolled his desk chair closer to me so that my head was right over his lap. About the very last thing in the world I wanted to do right now was give him a blow job.

"Sir, is this something we really have to do now. I'm trying to absorb what was just said."

His eyes blazed anger, His breath shortened as he jumped up, grabbing me by the hair yanking me to my feet. Holding my head tight by the hair he yelled in my ear, "Did absolutely none of that sink in!" Holding my hair with his left hand his right delivered a stinging blow to my rear. "Is this what you really want? Huh?" Six more blows from his hand landed on my rear. My ass screamed and my feet tried to dance and twist away. I had pushed him over the edge and I knew I was in for it. "Do you think Rule 3 was up for discussion?"

"NO Sir. Please let me take care of you. PLEASE," I snivelled and whimpered, hoping to defuse his anger. He relented and forced me back to the floor away from my soft kneeling pillow. I would have to do this without that small comfort. I pulled out his cock and gave him the most enthusiastic and lustful blow job that I could manage under the circumstances. How quickly I submitted and accepted the humiliation of my position. But really, at this point I just wanted to have him go away and give me time to think. A stellar effort of sucking his cock would lead to that.

As if to prove his point, he took control and held my head steady and rocking his hips, pushed his cock into my throat, triggering my gag reflex. This went on until he flooded my mouth with his come. It was over soon and he sent me to my room, locking the door.

*****

Several weeks went by while I settled back into the routine. He was away for many nights and I never knew when or for how long he would be gone. Once he was away for five nights in a row. The first few days were a relief from the usual pattern of sex with Xavier; a quick blow job in the morning and then copulation in the evening. All very vanilla like, mostly, excluding the times he took me in my rear, which thankfully was infrequent.

After the turmoil of the police raid and the discussion of my 'future' the sex seemed gentler in a way. As always he made all the decisions about how we would fuck, the positions, the foreplay, if any and whether or not I would be allowed or made to come but he did seem more interested in what I got out of it. He took more time to warm me up even to the point of gently massaging my back, rear and legs. And best of all he used his tongue on my sex every so often, something I really enjoyed.

When he returned after almost a week away I was excited to see him walk through the door. As usual, I had no knowledge of when he would return so seeing him come into the kitchen from the garage was a surprise and much to my annoyance later, I found myself going over to him and wrapping my arms around him in a quick hug. He looked down at me and smiled. That night the sex was better than okay. I enjoyed it and hated both myself and him for that.

During these times I endlessly reviewed my situation and options. I even broached the subject with Mrs. Lawrence. She was all for me submitting totally to Xavier. She said that if I did Xavier would allow me to go out with her and do the shopping together for the household. 'Oh wow,' I thought, my universe might expand to include the local Walgreens.

I considered the lying option, that is the option to try to feign acceptance of my slavery and hopefully, get another chance to escape. At these times I became energized and determined to try to lie my way out and in the morning it would all come crashing down in my mind. Somehow I knew Xavier wouldn't buy a lie from me. I wasn't a good enough actress. My fear of the punishment that would rain down on me if he caught me again would show on my face. I knew I couldn't do it and I would crash again.

At other times, I imagined a big shootout among the criminals who were Xavier's enemies and I'm sure he had them. They would kill him and seriously wound Mrs. Lawrence and I would be ignored as too much trouble. I would then cautiously and carefully leave Tamarak Ranch and start a new life somewhere far away.

The one thing I couldn't do was give up hope of freedom

But then, a small voice whispered to me that freedom was just an illusion after all. Was it freedom to be stuck in a job that you hated but needed desperately to keep your family fed? Was it freedom to be married to someone you were no longer in love with but you stayed because you didn't know how to survive alone. How free were mothers with small kids and an endless round of nursery schools, play groups, doctor's appointments and laundry? As Xavier's kept sex toy I had none of the above to worry about. If I had more opportunity to move about and do more things on my own would that make my life acceptable? And I had to admit: Xavier was proficient in bed. The feel of his hands on me when he wanted to be gentle, his kisses when he came home after a trip, his cock deeply buried in me all had an undeniable appeal. Even the times he took me in my ass were strangely and surprisingly enjoyable despite the humiliation having his cock buried in my ass hole caused me. I would never love him, that I knew and I also knew he had no concept of that for me but he did value me as an important possession. How many women out there could say that?