Never Alone

"Please, I don't know what you want... what I've done... just please..." His fingers move from her chin to her lips, silencing her.

"You've caught my eye; that's what you've done. Don't act scared. You always enjoy yourself when..." Now it is Greta's turn to interrupt.

"But that wasn't real!" With that, her escape attempt recommences, but it hardly fazes the man whose stout arms are solidly around her waist. After her struggles cease again, the dream-man takes hold of her wrist.

"You two are dismissed. I'll take her from here."

"No... no! Please let me go." The last thing she wants to do is go deeper into this house, but his grip is crushing and inescapable.

"Be calm, my pet. I don't want to hurt you, but you must learn to obey me. Now quit this nonsense." She doesn't listen. If anything, his request spurs her tantrum further. His response is to pick her up easily and place her over his shoulder to carry her farther into his lair.

He releases her once inside a grand bedroom with a four-poster bed, more magnificent drapes, and a large wooden door which he locks behind them. As he does that, she scrambles to the opposite side of the room in attempt to leave through another door there. It's locked, of course, and he leisurely takes a seat on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"When you've finished trying to escape, I'll give you one more chance to obey me. Come over here to me."

"No! You'll be sorry..."

"That's where you have it wrong. Come here now or you'll be sorry, my dear." It's as if her feet want to move and stay planted at the same time. That latter urge wins, but her legs begin to tremble uncontrollably.

In a flash, he is up off the couch and snares her arm firmly in his grasp. She digs her heels in unsuccessfully and quickly finds herself standing next to a seated, angry-looking man.

"Lay over my knee."

"Absolutely not." The words are hardly out of her mouth when she finds herself jerked forward and toppling into position. Her hands on the floor and his thigh under her hips break the fall. He quickly pins her down with an arm firmly on her back and one leg hooked over both of hers. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Teaching." Her pleas to be released are ignored and no amount of kicking and squirming loosens his hold. The tears that she has been holding back break the barrier. "You're only making it worse on yourself, Greta. I warned you; chose not to obey me and you'll be punished," he reminds her as the zipper on her skirt slides down.

"Ok I'll listen! You don't have to do this!"

"I keep my promises. It's the only way you'll learn to obey me." His words send shivers down her spine that are quickly multiplied as her panties are revealed to the drafty room.

Kicking. Squirming. Pleading. SMACK!

"You certainly are making this enjoyable, pet. All your futile struggling."

Sobbing. Quivering. SMACK! SMACK!

He gently slides her panties down and caresses her reddening mounds before an onslaught of painful skin-to-skin lashes. She loses count and tires of crying, but continues to yelp with each blow. The bounce of her rosy cheeks and constant vocalizations spur him on.

When the punishment finally subsides, she relaxes hesitantly. Though his touch is gentle now, every contact spreads fire. His strong fingers trace the red marks that cover her cheeks then dip into the valley between them, causing her to tense again.

"Relax. Your punishment is over... for now," but she can't relax in this debasing position, especially with his hand nearing the apex of her quaking thighs. "What do we have here? Did you like your punishment, pet?" He slides his digits through her wetness, her body's ultimate treachery. When she doesn't respond, his hand lands on her welted ass.

"Answer me. I won't ask you again," he threatens while contracting his hand around aching flesh.

"Nooo... please let me go. I've learned my lesson."

"I'm not convinced you have. And is that your answer to my question?" His fingers travel back to the steamy damp place, which elicits an uncontrollable moan. "Something tells me 'no' isn't the right answer. Want to try again?"

"I don't know," she sobs. He thrusts a finger into her sopping slit and she gasps. A second joins the first and the two move in and out so quickly she is sure she is about to explode.

She whimpers in protest when he removes them to ask, "Did you enjoy that?" The quiet squeak she utters is in the affirmative, but it's not good enough. "Speak up."

"Yes," she answers louder, which starts the tears again, this time from embarrassment rather than pain or fear.

"Well you'll have to show me you've learned your lesson if you want more of that. Now back to my question. Did you like your punishment?" She bobs her head slightly. "Thank me for it."

"What?!" She cries out and rethinks her response when he spanks her one more time. "I'm s...sorry. Th...thank you."

"Good girl." With that, he helps her up from her bent position and sits her on his thigh. The sting puts her on her feet immediately. "No, no. Sit down and feel your punishment."

He hushes her when she opens her mouth to ask questions. The silence between them is filled only with her soft, fading sobs. His deft fingers wipe a tear from her eye, before he instructs her to get some rest.

CHAPTER 4: Pain and Pleasure

"Get up," demands an all-too-familiar voice through the darkness.

"What? What time is it?" Greta feels as if she has fallen asleep only moments ago.

"On the floor. On your knees."

"But..."

"Don't make me tell you again. Have you forgotten your punishment already? It's only been a few hours."

"I..."

"You were not asked to speak. Sleep is a privilege, my pet. You have not yet earned it." Greta rolls out of the oversized four-poster bed slowly, but obediently. She certainly has not forgotten her punishment and doesn't wish to repeat it, especially with her backside still so sore.

"Open up," he says, as he steps closer to his kneeling prisoner. The room is dark, but his naked, chiseled body catches a ray of moonlight.

"No!" is her immediate response when she understands his intentions. He snares her intractable, retreating head by the hair before she can get away.

"Excuse me?"

"Please don't make me. I'll... I'll..." If her supply of tears wasn't so depleted they probably would've started again.

"You know what happens when you disobey me, my pet." Her response is to lean forward again into a proper kneeling position and wet her lips in preparation. "That's a good girl." She opens her mouth when she feels flesh on her lips. He eases inside slowly.

"Relax. Let me all the way in." She gags, but recovers. He is still for a moment as he strokes her hair, but this doesn't last long. His grip tightens, holding her head in place as he begins to pump faster and harder. The protesting sounds she's making only increase his pleasure, sending vibrations down his shaft.

To Greta, this torture lasts incredibly long. Finally he pushes her face all the way against himself and empties the strange, yet not unpleasant load. She swallows most of it, but coughs and gasps for air when he releases her.

"On your feet." His hands find her hips and turn her to face the bed while he positions himself behind her. She begins to protest as he removes the silky nightgown she had been sleeping in, but thinks better of it.

"Spread your legs... wider... wider," he instructs as she does so hesitantly inch by inch and he gently pushes her forward with a hand between her shoulders. Eventually she is bent at the waist with her face and shoulders touching the bed and her ass in the air.

"Beautiful, my dear. Keep those legs straight and your shoulders on the bed. Five lashes, but..."

"What? No please!" she pleads, abandoning her position.

"Ten then. Back in position. Now."

"But..."

"Would you like fifteen?" She shakes her head and repositions herself, awaiting her punishment, but it doesn't come. She steals a glance behind her.

"Stay in position. We'll start over every time you break it. Count them, my pet."

Swish. Whack. The sound of the whip cutting the air is loud before it even makes contact.

"Ow!"

"I told you to count them. Again."

Swish. Whack.

"Two," she whimpers.

"The first doesn't count because I had to remind you. Begin again with one."

Swish. Whack. "One." Swish. Whack. "Ow ... two." Swish. Whack. "Three... please stop. I'll listen, I promise." She bends her knees, slumping onto the bed.

"You are making this much more difficult than it needs to be. You must learn to obey me in the first place. Straighten your legs and we'll begin again. Only the numbers, dear."

Swish. Whack. "One." Swish. Whack "Two." Swish. Whack. "Three."

After he reaches ten, he instructs her to stay put. The whip lands softly on the bedside table and he reaches for something else, but she doesn't dare turn around. She jumps when a cool gel lands on her backside.

He massages the soothing liquid over her fiery mounds before trickling some of it down the crease between. She tenses noticeably and pulls away slightly as his finger ventures after the gel. It circles around her puckered hole.

"Nooo," she moans quietly.

"I'll do what I want with you, my pet; you must accept this. It's easier if you relax, but you don't have a choice either way." With that, he forces his finger passed the muscle ring trying to keep him out. She starts to writhe as he pulls in and out of her, but he presses her into the bed with his free hand. More gel and a second finger.

"This is for your own good. If you don't relax this next part could be quite unpleasant for you." She does her best to obey and breathes a sigh of relief when his digits exit this previously untouched place. She hears rather than feels the next squirt of lubricant and knows exactly what it's being used for.

She bites her lip to refrain from speaking as she feels him at her entrance. Deep breaths do little to calm her and she knows it'll probably hurt despite his attempts to help. He leans against her slowly and she whines.

"You're so tight," he moans as he forces his way inside. She is moaning too, but not only from discomfort. She can feel color rush to her face as he reaches around to stroke her nether lips. "Is this for me?" he asks, trailing her own wetness up her stomach with his fingers. Her only response is to groan as he buries himself to the hilt.

"Enjoying yourself?" She can hear a grin in his voice. He slides out and back in quickly, making the bed squeak.

"Nooo..."

"Don't... lie... to me." His words match his thrusts and she presses her face into the comforter to muffle her vocalizations, but he pulls her head back by her hair. "No, no. I like to hear you."

She obliges not for him, but because she can't help herself as she is overwhelmed in a wave of discomfort and pleasure. Her position eats at her, but the sensations are new and arousing. Confused tears stream down her face and grow harder as he spasms inside her.

After a moment, he steps away and her knees crumble beneath her. He dresses in silence then easily and gently lifts her onto the bed where she curls into a trembling ball. She flinches when he begins to massage her backside again, but relaxes as the soothing sensation takes away the sting.

He slowly and carefully rolls her onto her back, pulling her hips toward the edge of the bed where he is now standing. She is too exhausted to care what he is doing and allows him to place her legs over his shoulders without protesting.

His hot breath makes her arch her back and suddenly she realizes how extremely aroused she is. She moans softly, still somewhat ashamed. He takes this as an invitation and moves closer, sweeping his tongue once through the wetness. The balance between ashamed and desperate shifts.

"Oh please..." But her voice trails off, afraid of upsetting him.

"What do you want, my pet? I like to hear you beg." She doesn't respond, now embarrassed again. "Nothing?"

"Don't," she says quickly when he starts to back away. "I can't take it any longer. I need... I need anything... please."

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he tells her, "I'll give you the release you want, but only when I say so. Wait for my permission. Understand?" She opens her mouth to argue, but simply nods.

He dives between her legs and she is immediately soaring to the edge, hardly able to control herself. Her chest rises and falls quickly as her lungs try to keep up. The alternating between luxurious licks and flicking her sensitive bud drives her crazy. She moans shamelessly as she writhes on the edge of the bed.

"I... I..."

"Not yet, dear." She grips the blankets on the bed – which are already wrinkled and messy - as if trying to restrain herself.

He thrusts his tongue in and out relentlessly and she finds herself pleading, "please... please... please," unable to find other words until, "I can't..."

"Now." It's as if this single word triggers something inside her and her body explodes in ecstasy. He continues lapping at her as she rides the waves of orgasm.

CHAPTER 5: Escape Attempt

Greta awakes alone in the large bed and scans the room for the man she will soon learn to call Master. He had exhausted her the night before and given her something strange to drink before tucking her in. That's probably why she is only now waking up with the sunlight streaming in full force through her window.

She dresses quickly in her work clothes from yesterday as she walks toward the bedroom door. Her heart is pounding as she wonders whether or not her captor has locked her inside. After a moment of hesitation with her hand on the knob, she turns it.

Part of her wants to jump back into the bed as the door squeaks open, knowing that if she gets caught she will be punished, but she has a chance to run away and plans on taking it. There is no movement in the hallway. She tiptoes down it and finds the large, luxurious staircase easily. The front door is in sight so she makes her way towards it as quickly and quietly as possible.

The deadbolt clicks loudly as she turns it. When she spins around to check for company, she sees the man of the house – handsome as ever - standing at the top of the stairs she has just run down. "Not trying to leave me are you?"

Although she knows it's useless, she continues trying to unlock the door which has many more locks than she realized. The tears clouding her vision do little to help and she is soon consumed by them. Admitting defeat, she falls to her knees as the crying grows worse.

She senses him behind her and explains through the sobs that she just wants to go home, to which he replies, "This is your home now." He then grips her upper arms firmly and pulls her to her feet. She allows him to this and to spin her limp body around, pinning her to the door.

"Look at me," he demands the top of her downturned head. "Now, Greta." The sternness in his voice convinces her to comply. As soon as her lips are within the reach of his, he smashes them together fiercely. She struggles at first, but with nowhere to go she easily gives into his soft mouth. The urgency and ferocity of his kiss is intoxicating. He pulls away after a moment, leaving her lips tingling and wanting more even though she desperately wants to escape from this man holding her against her will.

"Don't try to run from me, my pet, or you will be punished."

"No! Please let me go. You can't keep me here," she yells as her escape attempt resumes. He easily swings her into a romantic-looking dip, planting a small kiss on her forehead.

"I own you now and I'll do as I please with you."

She tells him "no" again, but he simply chuckles and lowers her onto the cold marble floor of the lavish entryway. "If you don't give me what I want, I'll take it, my dear," he threatens, making quick work of her skirt then straddling her squirming, half-naked body as if to enforce his point. Her hands beat on his chest ineffectively until his fingers reach between her legs to find the sensitive area there.

Her body tenses for a moment and he takes this opportunity to undo his belt and the button of his pants. She fully understands his intentions and makes one more move to get away, but before she can get up, he pins her roughly and ensnares her wrists, forcing them above her head. His free hand tugs on her blouse, popping the buttons one by one, revealing her heaving chest.

She halts as his hand moves toward the thin fabric separating their sexes. A knowing smile spreads across his face as he feels the warm dampness there. She sees this and immediately focuses her attention elsewhere... like the oversized chandelier on the ceiling. He softly caresses her through the satin, saturating it further and causing her to undulate beneath him. She marvels at how lithe his strong hands feel against her panties.

Without another word, he roughly removes this last impediment and positions himself above her, continuing to restrain her arms above her head. Her long, limber body is stretched out below him, goosebumps covering her perfectly pale, soft skin which contrasts beautifully with the dark marble tile. Her chest rises and falls, drawing attention to her perfectly pink erect buds.

She whimpers, torn between wanting and not wanting him to take her right there on the floor of the extravagant mansion foyer.

He does.

Her back arches with pure pleasure despite being taken by force... or perhaps because of it. He repeatedly pounds into her roughly, eliciting moans from her trembling lips. After he releases her arms, she lowers them hesitantly, but certainly does not begin hitting him again.

He pauses a moment, resting some of his weight on her tiny body, and though she would never admit it, she relishes the closeness. His hands slip beneath her, pushing himself farther inside, their bodies fused at the waist.

In one swift movement, he rolls onto his back, placing her perched on his member. Color rushes to her face, now embarrassed and at a loss as to what to do, but needing release. He simply places his hands cradled behind his head with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Go ahead. Don't act like you don't know what to do." She sits motionless, still fully impaled. His hand ventures forward to roll her sensitive bud between his fingers. She shrinks away from his touch, but he tightens his grip, causing a whimper.

"You were enjoying yourself when I was doing all the work," he points out as he tugs sharply upward on her nipple. She rises up, but as soon as she does so, he pulls in the opposite direction. To avoid more pain, she does as she was told, sliding on and off him.

She is soon panting and her face is flushed from exertion when he grips her hips, burying himself deep. His spasms send her to the edge of release, but he instructs her to dismount. To her look of disappointment he replies, "I wish you deserved it, my pet. Now clean it off." She obediently takes his limp member into her mouth, tasting the mixture of juices on it. After a moment she raises her head. "Until I tell you you're finished."

She nurses his spent cock until it begins to semi-harden again. "That's enough. Go upstairs and get cleaned up. We're having guests tonight," he says, getting up from the floor, leaving her kneeling alone.

"Guests?" He re-buttons his pants before answering.

"Do as you're told. You already have a punishment waiting for you for trying to leave me."

"But..."

"Want to double it?" Instead of answering, she lowers her head and hurries upstairs. Once inside her room, she starts the water for a bath in the oversized clawfoot tub. Sinking into the bubbles relaxes her, but she is still desperate for release. Her fingers gently circle her clitoris before sliding lower.