The Claiming

A group of young people stands huddled at the base of a hill. Among them, wrapped in a green cloak, the edges of her green skirt caught in the wind, Sandra gazes up at the dark form of Nightstone Keep.

"No one's seen the Master of the keep for years, there are servants but nothing ever happens"

"They say that he's waiting for his Lady," A greasy young man says.

"Hardly, I bet he's not even there" Sandra says as she tugs on the edge of her bodice.

"I bet you're too scared to go up there"

"Ha, I could get in and out without getting caught"

"You couldn't get past the gates!"

Sandra shakes her head and starts walking up the hill. "I'll bring you back a candlestick, oh and next time you want to impress me, do it yourself"

Slipping on to the grounds was almost too easy. Sandra chuckles to herself as she slips into the dark building. She enters the great hall and gasps. The sparsely furnished room is surprisingly warm, a long table set for one gleams in the firelight.

Sandra lowers the hood of her cloak, letting the entire thing fall to the ground as she moves towards the fire, letting it warm her. She sighs as the goose bumps on her exposed cleavage fade to the smooth creamy complexion it was before her trek up the hill.

After a moment or two she stretches slightly and moves to the table. Sandra leans over and reaches for a candlestick. Suddenly a great warmth and weight slams into her. Before she can think to move her hands are pinned to the table from behind. Hot breath grazes her ear and fingers entwine in her hair.

"Welcome to my keep, Pet, you will learn to like it here"

Sandra struggles with a cry, "let me go! Please, let me go! I'm sorry!"

The man behind her chuckles warmly. "Now Pet, You entered my keep, so now you will be kept"

Sandra tries to pull herself free from her captor but only backs into him and suddenly realizes that he is hard.

He presses firmly against her. One hand in her hair he lets the other trail down her back to rest on her ass. She struggles once more but stills with a cry as his hand smacks her sharply.

"Be still Pet"

His hand starts gathering her skirts up till the warm air touches her most private of areas, followed by his hot hand. He caresses her ass and gives it a few gentle smacks before traveling lower.

She whimpers and struggles, "no please, don't"

She flinches as his fingers meet her most feminine area. He pauses, "You are a naughty Pet. You're quite wet, if I didn't know any better I'd say that you want me" With no notice he shoves three fingers deep inside of her making Sandra scream.

He wiggles his fingers, feeling her cunt flex around him. "Good girl"

Sandra breathes hard, her face flushing as this dark man makes her body do things she never knew possible. "Who..."

He starts slowly fucking her as he pulls her hair forcing her to stand. "I am Master Jason, you may call me Master"

"No!"

He spins her suddenly and stares into her eyes. Sandra looks up at him like a deer in bright light. Jason's blond hair falls wildly to his shoulders, his blue eyes nearly green with lust. His broad frame encased in black silk.

"You will call me Master, you will submit to me"

Sandra tries to push him away which makes his eyes grow thunderous. He loosens the tie on his black pants and in one swift movement buries himself to the hilt inside her. Harshly tearing her maidenhead

She cries out, a burning pain/pleasure nearly rips her in two. She grips the table and bites her lip. The sensations running through her are entirely alien to her. The sensation of pleasure that made her cry out was like nothing her chaste mind had ever encountered, nor the way that the pleasure made her body react, tensing, almost bucking for more. The pain, that was new as well, but as sharp as it was, the rending of her maidenhead and the sensation of being impaled and split in two, was not contrary to the pleasure, but a part of it, enhancing it.

But most alien and frightening of all was the effect that this combined sensation of pleasure and pain, of her helplessness and his penetration. For perhaps the first time, for a full moment, she felt the urge to submit as he asked, as she had never done for any person. She felt, deep inside her, an almost primal and overwhelming urge to obey.

But his anger at her intrusion, his passion and his claiming of her was not to pause for her contemplation. Halting but a moment, that her cunt may stretch and form itself to the shape of it's new master's mighty sword, he pulled out of her and plunged deeply into her again, the sensation of pain and pleasure doubled from before.

"You are my pet, and I am your Master. You shall submit to me and the sooner you do so, the easier you shall find you stay here in my keep. And your stay shall last quite a long while." He punctuated his sentence with another powerful thrust, spearing her anew, overcoming her with strange emotions once again. "I am Master!"

"No!" she cried "I have no master. Not you; not anyo..." but her sentence was cut off as he grasped a handful of her hair and pulls her head back, baring her perfect throat to his lips and teeth and he thrusts deeply into her once again.

"You have but one master, and you shall serve him. You are mine, and mine alone, this is your fate this is your destiny." As he thrusts again and again, harder and deeper each time making what she had previously thought was his full penetration seem like but a glancing caress. She tries to resist it but a low moan escapes her lips, surprising her, but not Jason.

"I told you, you're such a naughty pet to want this so badly, to enjoy it so much. Say it to your master, say it to me. Admit you want this and that I alone am your master." Each phrase, each pause is accentuated with another thrust, harder and deeper into her. It feels as though he's going deeper than he possibly can, filling not just her dripping cunt but her whole body, her whole self. And yet her defiance remains, in spite of threat of punishment in spite of promise of pleasure. She fights with herself. He's demanding an answer, but can she remain defiant in sight of his terrible power or must she give in to that power and be his as he says she already is? She fights with herself as her body makes it's own answer and her hips began to buck against her will. She moans again, louder, a half cry, half plea as she feels deep within her the pleasure began to build to something new, something she had never imagined before.

A deep pressure starts building inside her, starting at the tips of her toes and top of her head and working its way to her core. She cries out as his free hand moves to her bodice.

"No!" she tries in vain to force him away and his hands off her laces.

"Bad pet" Jason thrusts into her almost violently. The sudden pain makes Sandra's hands drop to grip the table once more. The pressure inside her nearly unbearable.

Jason unlaces her bodice and watches as her breasts strain against her chemise. The nipples hard and sensitive. He pulls the chemise down, exposing the pale globes to the air; her nipples harden more, the pink nubs standing out against her white skin.

The sudden change of temperature on her body throws Sandra over the edge. The pressure inside her explodes as her entire body contracts and pulses. Sandra cries out helplessly, her hands grasping for the closest firm object as she feels as if her entire being is spiraling out of control. She grips his shoulders, clinging to him without realizing it. As a gasp and a low moan escape her lips she barely opened here eyes to she what it is she's grasping and gazes full on his face, the look of lust in his eyes matched only by the smile on his face. Buried to the hilt, his hard shaft penetrating her screaming womanhood as the terrifying pleasure of this first orgasm washed over her and renders her helpless, he whispers in a low firm voice that is as frightening as it is comforting.

"You are Mine"

Silently unable to make a sound, she begins to shake her head once again, to deny his ownership, knowing even as she did that her denial was a lie that fooled not even her. Yet her new master didn't allow her the opportunity for false denials. Even as he climax reached its peak, as the first orgasm of her life rocked through her, peaking in an almost divine frenzy, she felt her tight cunt scream as his hard member pulls away, he spins her to face the table again and thrusts himself deep into her again. And again. And again. Harder now than before and any half-hearted attempt to resist his penetration, his ownership, his mastery was not just abandoned but banished far and away as she felt the second orgasm of her life beginning to build and pulse even before her first had begun to recede. His hands encircle her and massage her beasts firmly then hard, caressing then squeezing, torturous pleasure then rapturous pain. As his fingers prod her tender flesh, caress and pinch the tender skin of her huge soft breasts, his rigid sword is impaling her again and again ripping into her, filing her, violating her fulfilling her. Again she feels her muscles tighten as her hands flail on the table before her and she makes small noises almost grunting helplessly, each sound and motion an admission of what her words had denied, that she was his, and that it felt so right for it to be so. It built more and more, and she could fell that she was once again on the precipice and about to be hurled off with all the force he could muster. She felt to her humiliation that she was actually bucking her hips back onto him, not just accepting his mastery but inviting it, yearning for it. Closer, closer... and he rips out f her, his member freeing itself from her formerly virgin cunt and pauses suspended in space before it. She screams, as his sudden absence, the absence of that which had made her complete was far more painful than his penetration had ever been and without the accompanying pleasure. Her hips buck backward again reaching for it but he remains just out of reach.

"Pet"

She hears his voice but it is distant, a Soft sound under the roaring ocean of passion surging just behind her eyes.

"PET!"

"Hearing the voice of her tormentor, her pleaser, her Molester and her God she responds, her voice a high pitched whine the effort of it almost to much as her body aches for the cumulation that had just been denied her.

"yyyyeeeeeeessss.."

"You want this. You want your Master's Cock in your cunt. You want His control, his domination. You want to serve him, because it feels right to do so."

Part of her mind said no. The part that had been trained by society all her life to be strong and to never submit, it said no. But another part of her, something deeper, something primal, essential to very nature of her, the core of her womanhood cried out the truth, and there was no hesitation as she answered.

"YYYYEESS! FUCK YES MY GOD YES!"

With the scream of her mouth his passion speared her once again, offering her what she longed for, His dominion, his ownership, his control, his Mastery... and as he paused once again hovering just outside here, her body writhed knowing it needed only a little more stimulus to go over the edge of that precipice and that one He could give it to her... and yet he waited. He wanted something more than her intention, more than the understanding that she was as he said nothing more than an object for his lust... he wanted... He wanted...

"MASTER!" She screamed!

Brutally he thrust deep into her and she screamed as the flood of her orgasm overflowed her, the muscles of her cunt gripped his cock and milked him, begged him as he shot his gift to her deep within her body. It felt so right; to lie there and be used for this purpose, as though her very purpose in existence was to take his gift to take his cum and savor it, treasure it, worship it. The Word said, the submission offered and accepted her mouth couldn't stop screaming.

"MASTER! YES MASTER Jason! Jason, Jason, Jason, Jason, MASTER, YES!" her body was gone and her mind flung itself over the precipice, not just into the passion of her orgasm but also to the revelation oh her submission, of her place of how perfectly right it felt to not be in control but to be in his control. It was as if she was falling without the support of what she had thought right, and though she feared to land and die from the force it was worth it for this revelation. And yet she did not fall and die. The touch of her new master held her, it caught her, cradled her. His power, his control cradled her soul safely as his body sent hers yet again to the heaven/hell of ravaged pleasure. She could feel herself; her body given totally over to his wills, his desires, his uses. She felt her muscles twitch, her body convulse the tears streaming down her cheeks as her juices combined with his overflowed her womanhood and dripped down her thighs. She moaned and gasped as she felt his hands tearing her clothing from her and throwing it away from them. With one final spurt of his gift within her he pulled out and left her there, empty and sore, but filled with her master's essence, used and ravaged but undeniably owned.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair and pull hard, pulling her off the table to the floor. She fell there, on the floor before him and looking up at him she felt her body do what it felt was right, what her most primal instinct told her was proper. Sitting up, her thighs on her calves, her body still shaking, quivering covered in sweat, she bowed before her master.

"You are now Mine, Sandra"

"Yes"

"You are my property"

"Yes"

"You shall live here in my keep, as my slave, to service my pleasure. My pleasure is your sole purpose in existence"

"Yes"

"You are Mine"

She felt such joy and such fear, such longing and such apprehension, yet she knew she had no choice and even if she did there was only one choice she could have made.

"Yes Master"

"Good girl, now get up"

Sandra sits up once more, her thighs are slick with his gift, her own juices and slightly pink with the blood from her virginity. Her body still tingling, she tries to stand but her legs won't work. The day was catching up with her; up early to work as a seamstress, then keeping up with her companions, then breaking into Master Jason's keep and being taken by him.

Her energy sapped, Sandra slumps to the floor.

"I said, get up"

"I... I can't" she looks up at him fearfully.

"You do work hard, Pet, all that sewing but never keeping the pretty dresses" he smiles indulgently down at her

"How do you know about my job?" She scoots backwards trying to get under the table.

Jason swiftly kneels and grabs her ankles, "I know you Pet. Now come here"

He pulls her back to him and bodily lifts her to standing. She cries out as he holds her. Struggling weakly as he carries her up a flight of stairs she is almost surprised when the door at the top opens and he deposits her on a soft chair.

Candles light a steaming inlaid bath. The smell of rosemary and roses wafts by. Sandra watches the bathwater with rapt attention but the sound of silk pooling on the floor makes her glance over. She quickly looks down, blushing hotly as shyness consumes her.

The candles glow gold, casting light and shadow on Jason's bare skin, he chuckles as he gazes down at her blushing form, "now Pet, shyness is not allowed" He listens to her mumble something to the floor before scooping her up once more. She yelps and wraps her arms around his neck as he moves towards the bath.

Gently Jason lowers them both into the tub, they both gasp as the hot water embraces them. He settles her in his lap and uses a hand to guide her chin so that she's looking at him. Her clear blue eyes are a mix of confusion, fear and a deep desire.

"Pet, kiss me"

Sandra bites her lip nervously, her eyes lowering to gaze upon his lips, so soft looking yet so commanding. With a cry of wonton abandon she presses her lips to his, tasting.

His hand tangles in her hair, gripping and pressing her to him harder. He runs his tongue against her lips, demanding entrance. She almost unconsciously responds, her lips part and her tongue darts out, deepening the kiss. With a growl Jason adjusts her seat, moving her legs so she straddles him, without breaking the kiss he pulls her down, impaling her once more upon his mighty sword. Sandra's eyes fly open as she half screams half moans into his mouth. He smiles into her lips and starts moving his hips until she takes over the tempo. She gyrates on him, bouncing hard and fast on his cock. He grabs her hips and forces them down harder as he thrusts up.

Sandra pulls away with a cry. Griping his shoulders, her head back, exposing her neck and breasts to his gaze as they bounce and jiggle in time with their beat. As she bounces faster and faster, she feels her body tighten, feels her pulse quicken and feels most of all her already tight cunt tighten around his cock as her orgasm, so new to her begins to build again. Her eyes open to see her new master looking at her with lust in his eyes. The look is so powerful she is torn between warring emotions, to run from it or to bow to it. Feeling him complete her and posses her once more as he thrusts up, she knows again that running is not an option even if he let her go. But as she started to bounce again, faster, his hands stayed her, on her hips holding her to him steady, unmoving. As he eyes went to his with question and longing she saw him concentrating. Then she felt it, his head, the tip of her lovers cock, swelling larger, deep in her, hurting so good, for seconds of infinite. Then it subsided, slowly and she started to grind again. But again her master's hand stayed her. Buried deep in her, to the hilt, he took a washcloth from the side of the tub, her master dipped into the hot steaming rose strewn water.

Bringing it up dripping, her slowly ran the cloth over every inch of her bare quivering body. He began with her face, the water streaming down her bare breasts, down her stomach to her cunt and onto his body. He continued downward from there, dipping the cloth again and again into the water, caressing her face, her chin, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach. Slowly her lifted her hips off of him and lay her gently back into the water. And he continued to wash her, caressing every inch of her bare skin. He washed the streams of cum, and the trickle of blood from her taken virginity from her thighs, the caress of the cloth almost making her cum over again, if not for his commanding voice.

"No. No pet, not yet. You must learn control, must learn to obey."

Silently biting her lip, she nodded her head, not trusting her voice not to moan if she dared say a word. She panted and breathed heavily as his cloth caressed her legs, her thighs and finally, (with no greater intimacy or pressure than anywhere else, to her torture) he ran it over her swollen cunt firmly, caressingly. Then he told her to turn over. On her hands and knees in the water, her breasts hanging down and dipping deep into the hot water she saw his shadow in the flickering candlelight. She gasped as she realized she could even see the shadow of his rigid member. Seeing how hard he was she expected to be penetrated again and braced herself. But instead of the pounding thrilling ecstasy and torture of is ownership, she felt instead the hot water being dripped onto her back in a way that almost made her cum again all by itself. Then the cloth as it caressed her shoulders, her back, her ass, until she was completely clean of the day's stresses, sweat, dust, cum, blood.

She sat up and faced him to see that he was facing away. The sight of his broad back and shoulders in the flickering candlelight, of his ass, of his long black hair dripping water overwhelmed her not with lust, but with worship, with adoration and subservience. Without a word spoken, without one needed, she began her service to her master. She dipped the cloth into the hot water and brought it up slowly, dripping the water down his back, caressing his shoulders, his broad back each caress firm and cleansing, giving him pleasure that she could not see as he faced away from her, each touch an act of worship, veneration of his form of her master. As she caressed his ass, she saw tiniest tightening of the muscles and almost squealed in joy at the knowledge that she pleased her master.