Alice's Capture Ch. 01

Being a slave was not the life I grew up dreaming about. As a girl in a rich family, I was taught independence and responsibility. My father made sure I never depended on anyone. I made straight A's all the way through med school. I was always the leader type, but my fantasies had been tormenting me from age 13. Since I found out about porn and erotic stories, I'd read them with a sort of awe. I dreamt about chains and orders being given, but not from my mouth. I wanted to be the slave. I was submissive at heart, and I craved the day when I could serve a Master with pride.

I met Sir at a bar when I was twenty. I was fresh out of college, having skipped a few grades in between high school and middle school. He had seen me before I saw him. By the time I caught his powerful gaze, I felt sure he'd been watching me for hours. I couldn't look away, and he chose not to. When I was uncomfortable enough to remove myself from the bar, I stood and turned swiftly, walking at a canter to my car, fear, dread, and an undeniable-though simultaneously shameful-emotion welling within me.

The parking lot was dark and damp, a fine mist falling from the skies. I thought I heard footsteps behind me and quickened, not turning around. I frantically searched for my keys while continuing at my brisk pace. When I found them I hit the unlock button, signaling a beeping noise from my small BMW that my father had given me as a gift this year for completing Harvard without a single "B".

As soon as I heard the beep, a deep, resonant voice growled from behind me.

"Give me your keys."

It was plaintive, not asking, demanding. My breath caught in my throat, choking me. I still didn't want to turn around, though I stopped in my tracks, frozen in time.

"Give. Me. The. Keys." He repeated it in a slow, threatening voice. I should be terrified. I was terrified, yet through his command I found some bit of comfort. I must've been crazy.

I stayed frozen, still unable to move an inch, my keys dangling from my left hand, covered in small droplets of precipitation. The footsteps cam closer to me, sounding hollowly through the empty night. He snatched the keys from my hand, crossing in front of me to my car, opening the driver's side door. He looked back at me and strode towards me purposefully. My jaw was open in disbelief. He gripped my arm tightly and dragged me to the passenger seat, shoving me in and hooking my seatbelt while I merely yelped in surprise. He slammed the door closed beside me and got in the driver's seat.

I heard my engine purr to life through a fog of shock. I didn't even know who this man was. I was supposed to scream, to kick out and cry for help. I didn't. We drove down the highway at what seemed like supernatural speed. After five minutes I finally looked at him for the first time.

His jaw line was defined and hard, with defined cheekbones and eyes concentrating on the road. They were inky black, but somehow more intense than any piercing blue I'd ever seen. He was perfectly proportioned, muscular without being huge. He appeared to be at least 6 feet 4 inches tall and he wore a black button down shirt and dark jeans. His hair was a dark chocolate, cropped but not buzzed. My mother's old words floated back to my mind...tall, dark, and handsome.

As I took in his formidable presence, he focused on the steering wheel. I knew he saw every movement I made. He chose to ignore me.

When we slowed, it was in front of a high-rise condominium building. It appeared as though we were in the center of Boston. He parked and stopped my car.

"When I get out, stay right next to me and keep your eyes on the ground."

I wondered how his voice could be so unsettling and soothing at the same time. He came around to my side and got me out. I must have been shivering violently. His cold hand elicited goosebumps to cascade down my arms. He slung a coat around my shoulders. It was his and it reached almost to my knees. Still, I was thankful for the warmth. I followed him obediently into the building, looking at the tiled floor. We got in the elevator and he hit the top floor.

Why was I not running? Why was I following this psycho? I was supposed to be smart. I was supposed to be a strong woman. The doors of the elevator opened. He stepped out and I stayed inside. Conflict rendered me immobile. The doors started to close before his large hand reached through and pulled me out and to the door of the penthouse. I assumed it was his.

"What is your name and how old are you?" He asked as I stood in the doorway, still looking down.

"I...um-" I stuttered.

"You will answer me immediately and address me as Sir." He cut me off and I regathered.

"Alice. Twenty." My voice was too high and scared. I sounded like a squeaking toy.

"Sir." He added menacingly.

"Sir." I repeated, fearful of my mistake. He grabbed my wrists and tossed me onto the bed in his bedroom. He walked to the doorway and paused, looking back at me, cowering on the sheets.

"You will undress and come into the living room."

"Yes sir."

He closed the door behind him. I began to hyperventilate. The first thought that came to my mind was to find a phone. I opened the dresser drawer and searched the countertops and found none. I suddenly felt dizzy. This was what I'd wanted since I knew what sex was. I'd wanted to be told, not asked. I'd wanted to succumb to my need to be controlled. This was too much. My shame sat in my stomach like a bowling bowl. I unbuttoned my shirt and slid out of my pants. I looked at myself in the mirror and tried to breathe. Then, I walked into the living room and stood like an idiot in the entrance, unsure of what to do.

"Come in front of me." He said it from his spot in a chair. Right now his back was to me. I wobbled to where he directed, standing and looking down. He stared at me and I shivered under the weight of his examination.

Suddenly, he was standing inches from me, "I told you to undress." He growled and I felt a cold metal slide in between my bra straps and skin. I realized it was a knife as his lightning fast movements cut off my bra and bikini. My lingerie laid in tatters at my feet and my shivering grew more violent at my new nakedness. He remained beside me for a few more seconds before sitting again and staring at me.

I don't know how long I stood like that. It felt like hours but my senses were so heightened that seconds could've been more accurate. I was too embarrassed to meet his eyes. I was completely vulnerable. Why had I come out of the bedroom?

"Look at me." My head flew up and my cheeks flushed red. "Tell me, have you ever read porn?"

I didn't think it was possible to be any more humiliated than I already was. I didn't dare lie. I could see he still had a knife casually held between his hands.

"Yes." My gaze again flew to the floor.

"I said look at me, you do what I tell you." He stood up and grabbed my chin in his large hand, pulling it up to make me look into his black eyes, mere inches away. "What kind?"

"I...I don't know what you mean." I wanted so badly to look away but he held my face firmly in place.

"Yes, you do. Answer me."

"Um...mostly BDSM and non-consensual...Sir?" My cheeks must've been fiery enough to burn through paper. My chin struggled harder in his grasp.

"I thought so." That was all he said. He turned and pulled me again towards the bedroom.

He laid me out on the bed. Then, he unbuttoned his own pants and shirt, removing his clothing, leaving the shirt hanging off his shoulders. My eyes traveled to his penis, taking in its size. I estimated about eight or nine inches. Bigger than any other I'd ever seen. He came and stood by the bedside.

"I want you to put your arms above your head." He cuffed them into place, then he pinned my legs to the bedposts. I felt his fingers tracing my contours, circling my nipples, raising goosebumps wherever he went. I felt them hardening. He went down my abdomen, making me squirm. When he neared my mound he stroked with two fingers down my slit. I knew I was wet. I flushed again. He looked at me and then turned back to my body. I felt oddly comforted, as if there was nothing to be embarrassed about. He went all the way down my legs to my feet, dragging his fingertips along the soles. As he explored me, his cock became harder.

An eternity later, he climbed upon the bed. Common sense kicked in.

"Stop it, let me go!" I twisted in my bonds, panicking. "Please, let me go!" Tears began to pour onto my cheeks. I was humiliated, scared, and I didn't even know where I was! I was supposed to be my own person! Female! Not some toy for men to play with.

"Quiet!" His voice rose a little from its controlling tenor. He pressed his hand onto my midsection, pinning me down. "You're going to hurt yourself, thrashing around like that. There will be plenty of pain later, if you keep this up."

I was now quivering and sobbing as quietly as I could.

He kissed me softly on my neck, holding me still, manipulating my body. I calmed slightly. He pressed his increasingly hard cock into my slit, rubbing it up and down. I felt pleasure mixed with shame. He then thrust into me quickly, in one stroke.

"Ahh!" I cried out. He began pounding into me rhythmically. I laid, covered in sweat, my muscles contracting as I got used to his size. He continued until I was moaning in pleasure. I couldn't help it. The stimulation was too much and to my horror, I came underneath him, rippling in ecstasy. As I did, he shot his seed into my womb. We were both breathing hard and I was filled with dread. I began crying again. He got up and left me tied in the bedroom. I fell eventually into an uneasy, troubled sleep. He never came back in the night. The next morning, as the sun rose, I pondered my future and my desires. I tried out some new words on my tongue. They felt somewhat natural. They felt like betrayal.

Thank you, Master.

TO BE CONTINUED...