Releasing the Slave Within

Andrew staggered through the pouring rain, by now his clothes offered little or no protection from the weather. He was gradually getting closer to the floor as he had been walking these desolate roads for days without food, water or indeed company.

He was not fully aware of that which he was searching for, or even why, 5 days ago he had informed his boss he was having a early 20's crisis and needed to go in search of something he did not fully understand. Of course, his boss, after his little outburst was more than happy to make him redundant, giving Andrew a small but substantial amount of money to begin his perilous journey into the unknown.

The past 3 days had seen him pack many supplies, a sleeping bag, tinned food, cleaning articles, pots and pans all in a huge rucksack, at first the heat had been unbearable, burning down on him mercilessly, keeping a watchful eye, ensuring Andrew's abused skin stayed in the baking heat all day long. Gradually the sun turned into cloud, which darkened almost to the point of total darkness in the middle of the day, before parting the heavens above it and drenching the arid earth with rain.

The first night saw Andrew's tent torn to shreds by scattered rain and wind, it eventually tore away from its fixings in the ground and was lost forever into a nearby forest. Downhearted, but not about to give up Andrew slept, naked, allowing the warm rain drench his milky flesh until dawn gave way to another glorious day.

The second day, much the same as the first began with Andrew absent mindedly forcing himself to eat, a habit instilled in him by his mother during his upbringing, and as he sat, sipping coffee he pondered his situation and the very foundations of his life. Bringing no answers, and no comfort he dressed, and continued down the road that seemed to be pulling him along, stopping only to gaze at more unusual and beautiful flowers and plants.

Gradually, as day turned to night, and the temperature dared to drop just a little, the familiar smell and close heat informed Andrew of the tough night he faced, again minus the tent. So, like the night before, he stripped naked, taking care to remain hidden in the woods and laid down to sleep......

Sometime, during the deepest part of the night, Andrew began gently twitching, his hands gripping the drenched forest floor beneath him then releasing. Beneath the layers of sleep she spoke to him, her voice sounded as gentile as a passing whisper, as tempting as that of the mermaids who beckon ill-fated seamen to their treacherous rocks. When she spoke, music spilled from her luscious, filled red lips. When she moved it was like grace personified, her every movement had him aching to touch her. But deep instilled in him was the knowledge she was out of bounds, and him her lowly slave.

Finally as the sun rose lazily on the third day, slowly drying out the ground around his naked skin Andrew woke with a start, so hard he was throbbing, his warm blood pulsing through his stiff member drumming in his ears, behind his eyes until it took him over, wrapping his long, nimble fingers around his beating shaft and slowly starting the path to climax and fulfilment. It did not take him long as the dream he had experienced the night before gave him more than sufficient stimulus to bring him into the most delicious, naughty climax he had experienced in quite some time, including the women he'd slept with.

That morning Andrew sipped his steaming coffee with a feeling of fulfilment and a big childish grin on his face. He felt more than ready to face the day, and began once again after dressing to follow the road which felt right, it almost seemed to call out to him. But tragedy was never far behind. Shortly after noon, Andrew was sitting on his backpack picking eagerly at some stale bread and cheese, coffee sitting obediently at his side, as he took his last mouthful and stood facing the way he was heading he hiked his backpack onto his shoulders. As he took his first step, out of nowhere he heard the sound of an engine, figuring he could hitch a ride Andrew turned in just enough time to see the car skid to a halt behind him, the occupants of the car, two big built men, both with ragged unshaven faces. They ran at him and grabbed his rucksack roughly he fought against them, but they brought out a pair of flick knives, and knowing his hunting knife was buried deep in his rucksack figured it was more than his life ' s worth and threw all his worldly possessions at them. Turning on his heels he ran, and didn't stop until he passed out, lost deep in the forest.

What seemed like a lifetime later Andrew's hearing returned bringing him sharply back to reality, miles away from home, unsure of the distance of his destination, the only thing left to do was walk, and walk he did. The rain now became relentless, beating down on him, slowly breaking his spirit that just a few hours was high, and hopeful for his future, and now, as that future grew further distant and bleak, Andrew's tears and gentile sobs mixed with the rain and wind around him, going unheard.

That night, as Andrew tried to sleep, the rain pounding his skin and the ground around him he was plunged into a dark, deep sleep. She came to him again, this time telling him to continue his journey, the concern in her voice evident. Andrew moaned, reaching his arms out into the night sky, but in his dreams he nearly touched her velvet skin. Back in reality this thought was enough to bring him to a shuddering climax, covering himself and the ground around him with warm spunk.

The next day, Andrew put on his soaking clothes, with nothing better to do he carried on walking always thinking of the anonymous goddess in his dreams, she kept him alive, kept him walking in the same direction hour after hour. Over and over he replayed her words, her soothing voice his saviour.

Sometime during the mid afternoon the rain held off, giving the sun time to make an appearance, Andrew took this time to sit, and dry off, to scavenge the ground for something to eat. Several exhausting hours later he was tucking into char grilled pheasant pleased with his achievement, those survival courses he did in work actually came in handy. He never understood until now, why anyone would need survival classes in an office. Although come staff party nights, it was every man for himself.

After a short sleep, Andrew stood up, felt his stomach churn, trying his best to ignore it he continued down the road, just as the rain began to beat once again. Another long day, and sleepless night later the rain continued to beat down on him, she never came to him again. His memories were beginning to fade, he felt as if he might be becoming delusional, imagining things. Thinking his life needed changing when it didn't. Again tears of angst and unknowing flowed freely from his shining blue eyes. The last thing he remembered was feeling sleepy, he fell gently to his knees, succumbing to the heavy feeling, the comforting darkness enveloping.

She came from nowhere, her crimson cape billowing in the wind, her hood drawn over her face, protecting her from the elements, the rain didn't seem to touch her. Her heavy boot clad feet hardly touched the floor, making no noise, she paced confidently, not rushing, scooping Andrew's limp body into strong arms, but not feeling his weight. As suddenly as she came, she walked off into the pouring rain, just another figure in the darkening afternoon.

Andrew woke up slowly groggily pushing away many heavy layers of sleep. Opening his eyes he started to drink in his surroundings, he was lying in a huge bed, drenched in black and red silk sheets, his head buried in downy pillows of the same material, the felt cool and soothing on his head and naked skin. When his eyes allowed him to focus beyond two feet in front of him. The room was dimly lit, gentile moonlight shone through the huge windows, the rain beating a steady rhythm against the glass. The room appeared to be sparse, two doors, hard, heavy oak, both with looped iron handles. A dressing table with an old fashioned brush, mirror, clad in silver, and a vial, containing something that appeared to be red. A lone chair, more like a gothic throne set in a corner. Next to him on the bed, a table, laden with delicious foods, and a huge mug of steaming coffee.

Convinced he must be dreaming, Andrew hauled himself up onto his elbows, breathing in the aroma of fresh coffee, he reached for the mug, half expecting his hands to sink through it. They didn't, he wrapped his hands around the warm mug and took a big, long mouth full of the liquid enjoying the feeling as it sank into him.

Next, he took a piece of bread, it too was fresh, still warm, breaking a small chunk off he popped it in his mouth, enjoying the feeling of it melting slowly away leaving only a divine taste. The meat cuts were just as tasty, juicy tender beef and chicken breast, Andrew ate hungrily, glad that if this was all a dream it was a tasty and pleasing dream. Finishing with grapes and the remainder of his coffee he sank back into the pillows, and fell fast asleep exhausted.

Twice more, that happened, Andrew awoke later to find a hearty breakfast of sausage, egg, bacon and mushrooms with fried bread and more of the delicious coffee made exactly to his taste, again, he ate with vigour feeling his energy begin to return.

When he awoke that evening he found only a sandwich and more coffee, but noticed one of the heavy doors ajar, steam coming from the open door. He noted the silk gown draped over the arms of the throne, taking the subtle hint, he carefully, slowly inched out of bed, noting instantly his nakedness he drew the gown around him, sinking into its gentile stroke on his sensitive skin. Edging toward the bathroom, armed with his coffee an altogether different smell flooded his senses, a deep smell of roses entwined with flowers and spices he had only ever dreamed existed, the smell reminded him of the deepest parts of a dense jungle and the tops of the highest mountains. Opening his eyes from the smell he saw a grand bathroom. The huge bath centring the room, steaming hot, stepping up to it he placed his mug on the top step and shrugged out of his robe.

Stepping into the bath was almost like stepping onto a cloud, the hot water enveloped his feet, then his legs, and finally up to his neck as he eased himself into its warmth feeling the water massage his stiff aching muscles, scooping up his mug, taking a long drink Andrew relaxed back, sighing in pleasure as the feeling over took him, taking him to a higher pleasure. Teaching him to better appreciate the finer things in life.

Sometime later, after the coffee mug had been long discarded and Andrew had gently washed his long, now matted hair, he was left with another throbbing erection begging for his attention. Obliging happily, he wrapped his hand around it and gently began to play with himself, his cock stood hard and proud, it didn't take him long to bless the bath water, moaning softly to himself as waves of pleasure enveloped him.

Stepping from the cooling water he wrapped himself in the warm fluffy towel, glancing in one of the mirrors that surrounded three walls, noting the sink, surrounded by washing pieces, a blade and bar of soap, a toothbrush and paste and a brush similar to the one out on the dressing table. Again he took the hint and proceeded to gently shave his face, brush his teeth, and finally brushing his hair, in long slow strokes. Ambling slowly back into the main bedroom he wondered for the first time about his situation, how he got here, who was feeding him, running him baths. And so convenient, but before his mind could come up with a solution sleep took over once again.

When Andrew awoke next, the majority of the answers came in one go. As he propped himself upon the soft sheets, she walked in, holding the cup between two small hands, dressed in a loose pair of caftan pants and a vest top, stretched across her ample bosom. Placing the mug down on the table she smiled down at him and he thanked the heavens he was under cover as his prick stiffened instantly, betraying him. To shatter the silence, and speed his recovery from sleep he took a mouthful of hot, sweet coffee, looking into her almost black eyes.

"Been enjoying my hospitality, have you?" she muttered, Andrew nearly choked on his drink, her voice practically made him come.

"Y-y-yes, thank you....um?" Andrew stuttered in reply.

"You can call me Lady Rynn, welcome to my castle Andrew, I have been expecting you. This is going to be your new life." Her voice was so haunting.

"I-err-I don't understand....how did you know my name....?"

"I called you Andrew, to me, this is where you belong." Despite her voice, Andrew felt a gentile annoyance rising, why wasn't she giving him straight answers?

"Look, Rynn, whoever you are. Thanks for helping me, but you can't hold me here...." Andrew began to move to get out of bed, but she grabbed his hand.

"It's LADY Rynn to you, and I can hold you here, because you'll stay, willingly, understand?" Andrew felt his anger subsiding, weighing it up staying here with this beautiful woman would beat any office job, any day.

"Yes, my Lady."

"Now," she said, gently stroking his hair away from his face, "rest, you'll need your energy for training, tomorrow."

"T-t-training?" he whimpered. She turned as she opened the door to leave, nodding, an evil look about her. Andrew feared it might be painful, but, as he bit his lip he knew he would enjoy every minute of it.

The next day he woke with a start, taking in his familiar surroundings with deep breaths. He noticed his clothes, and then his breakfast, and then the note. In that order, he dressed, ate quickly and then opened the letter.

Andrew

I have left the castle for a few supplies, stay in your room until I return.

Please, take a bath if you wish, sleep, or read. There ' s a few books in the dresser.

From now on things will be very different.

Lady Rynn xx

Sure she must be far away, Andrew chanced a glance through the window, this room overlooked the garden, an orchard of various fruit trees, it looked well kept and the warm sun seemed to make the plants look juicy green and happy. Moving from the window and towards the door he pulled on his coat and peeked around the door. No one was in sight down the long, wide corridor. Andrew stepped out and began his search.

Most of the top floor brought little interest, mostly guest rooms decorated quite similar to the one he was staying in, a few were locked, one appeared to be a study holding expensive computers on a desk that ran round most of the room. Andrew eventually found the staircase, carefully walking down it he noted it opened out to a lobby, the huge wooden and iron door in front of him, several doors leading away, starting at his left he worked his way around.

Disappointingly the first two doors were locked, the third housed what had to be a TV room, a huge wide screen drenched a wall, while modern corner style sofas in white and black leather made the old castle come crashing into the modern day. Bypassing the main door and onto the right side of the lobby, the first door led into a huge kitchen, with a table set in the middle, the whole room full of foods, some of which Andrew had never seen. The door in the room lead to a banqueting hall, which, he imagined to lead back out into the lobby. The hall was exquisite, tastefully decorated, with a large wooden table housing many sturdy chairs. The two at either end were large and ornate, suggesting two very important people. That thought angered Andrew so much he shook. Two. Perhaps Lady Rynn had a husband?

As he left the room and entered the third and final door on the right side of the lobby, the room seemed empty, various unused pieces of furniture dotted it, a lamp, some chairs. Walking into the room, towards the huge window, facing what he guessed to be the road he was travelling along. Thinking back to then seemed ages ago to him, he was brought crashing back to reality, and the ground when he tripped over a bump in the huge decorative rug in the middle of the room. Rising gently to his feet, sure he had made enough of a thud to alert anyone still in the castle of his presence he walked over to the bump and trod on it, there was something hard beneath. Feeling his curiosity getting the better of him he peeled the corner of the rug back, noting how clean and well kept the material was, before long he unveiled a large metal trap door, the cause of his trip was the big round iron handle.

Tip toeing to the front of the opening he threaded his fingers through the metal loop and pulled gently, it made a single creek of resistance making Andrew bite his lip, but then it sailed open like a breeze, casting enough light onto the steps leading into a dimly lit corridor. Stepping down, Andrew gently eased the metal door into its place and walked down the remainder of the steps and along the dim corridor, smoothing his hands over the cool wall as he went. The corridor suddenly ended and opened into a huge room, an archway to his left from which odd noises came, in front the room was filled with apparatus which would need closer inspection to decipher its uses in the darkened room. Stepping into the room, with a dark fascination and feeling of surprise Andrew realised he was stood in what could only be described as a dungeon. And judging by the complete lack of dirt or dust, it appeared to be in full working order.

Stepping up to the first piece, it appeared to be a huge wooden throne, almost like that of an electric chair, with straps for the wrists, knees and ankles, the only thing separating from a regular chair was the huge wooden shaft that rose from its middle. Swallowing hard, several agonising thoughts of how that would feel sent shivers of pain and pleasure coursing through Andrew's body. Moving on he noted the rack, an old torture implement used to force out true or untrue confessions from prisoners by stretching their limbs taught, using two huge cogs, with handles. This one seemed different, from its use of modern metals and wood and it had an extra piece which seemed to be in the right place to stretch out a man's cock. Next, attached to the walls were various pieces of manipulated metal, most looked unused but all looked painful, along with various spreaders, for forcing limbs apart, an open cupboard full of creams, lotions, potions, dildos, strap-ons and vibrators. Hanging from the wall Andrew noted several whips, ranging in length and material from leather to a painful looking chain whip. All this was getting him turned on, but knowing deep down that he would not being using them on anyone, but, he feared the other way around.

As he continued his search of the dungeon, the odd noises from the archway, now directly behind him, continued, engrossed in his exploration of all things pain-related he did not hear the noise of stone rubbing against stone, a noise he would soon come to be terrified of, and love just as equally. As he was admiring a set of cuffs hanging low from the ceiling, he gently slipped his wrists in the stiff leather of the cuffs feeling how submission might feel, he enjoyed feeling trapped. He closed his eyes and imagined her, pacing around him, as he lay limp in his restraints, begging to be let down, to be forgiven. Andrew shuddered enjoying how the thoughts made him feel, unaware of the vine, snaking its way along the ground, but he felt it as it grabbed him around his ankle, jarring his from his day dream back to reality. He tried for several seconds, in vain, to get his wrists from his restraints, his was stood on his tiptoes, the tentacle was pulling his leg from the wall, trying to drag him. Finally he got loose and wrenched the tentacle free before running for his life to the stairs, pushing the trapdoor open, not caring if he was heard. He collapsed, terrified taking deep breaths on the floor next to the trapdoor.