Captured Ch. 01

They dragged her all the way from the alley they had finally captured her in. To this walled estate he used as a safe house. Two giant burly men almost tore her arms out as they half dragged, half lifted her through the gates, the gardens, the door.

Despite her injuries, despite the fact her powers were chained, she fought with every ounce of strength she had left. The terror raged through her body like hot acid. She tried to jerk free, to claw at an arm, to bite a hand. But the men carrying her did not pause. The grim determination on their faces held, they would finish this job and deliver their charge. They did not even look at her. If she would have had access to her powers, she could have blasted them through the wall, she could have blinded their senses, she could have... No use.

She caught her first glimpse of him as they entered through the huge double doors of the mansion. She saw him stand in some absurdly fancy reception hall. He probably loved the theatrics of the decor. Had planned it this way. If she could get free now, maybe she still had a chance. With a last resort of strength, she spasmed with her entire body to try to get her knee to connect with the groin of one of her captors. He deflected her attempt with a graceful ease and put extra pressure on the shoulder joint he had in a vice like grip. If the pressure increased by a hair, she was sure it would pop right out of its socket. The bastards did not even break their stride. Until finally they stood still, a couple of meters in front of the man she had hoped to never see again.

She trembled from the effort of her escapes, from the fear of seeing this man so close, from feeling his control. She had sensed it blocks away, before the attack even came. But this close, his aura of control rolled over her like a thick fog. She remembered the sensations that came with it and almost got sick with the fear of what it meant. He had her. All the things he threatened her with if he would capture her again, he could execute. All the times she taunted him, refused and belittled him reeled through her mind in quick succession. She knew he would remember all of them and make her pay.

His eyes bored into hers with such intensity she could feel him drink in every aspect of her. His stance exuded victory, the corner of his mouth turned slightly upward in a way that made her skin crawl. He could see her fear and was relishing every moment of it.

With a great effort of will she tried to push down her terror, force it to a corner of her mind, to not give him the satisfaction.

"Nessa," he said softly. His tone could almost be thought of as kind, but the malice in his eyes belied the gentleness of his voice. "How lovely to see you," he said with a mock smile. "You gave my men quite the challenge, even blocked as you are. Whatever have you been up to in our time apart? Krav Maga?"

The goons holding her did indeed look worse for wear. One had a bleeding gash from his ear to the back of his neck, and the other had an eye that was already almost completely shut from the swelling. She herself was covered in bruises as well. All her fighting lessons had paid off some, if not enough.

"Why don't you make them release me and I'll show you. You disgusting prick!" she spat.

"Now, now Nessa, no need to be rude just yet. But if you insist." He nodded at the men, and they released her so quickly she almost fell to the floor. "Do show me what you learned."

She reached into her boot where her last knife was stored and fueled by fear and hatred, she tried to attack him with everything she had. Tried.

She had known it was pointless as soon as she felt his strength again, but to not try would be to admit defeat. And she would never do that. She had hoped her training would have made her more resilient. She had worked so hard at the exercises that were meant to arm her against his influence. She felt the familiar fog of his control grow thicker and thicker and although she managed to take a step towards him, knife raised, she could not take another. However much she willed her body to lunge she grinded to a complete halt still paces away from him.

"Oh Nessa," he almost purred with a confident smile. "You should know better than that. Have you forgotten all the manners I taught you? No matter, I will take great enjoyment in teaching you again."

With that he strode towards her, while she still stood frozen, knife raised and stopped inches away from her face. It was then that he whispered the words that haunted her every nightmare when she had escaped. "Kneel, Nessa."

And just like that it was over. She dropped the knife and it clattered to the ground. She was able to resist for a whole second before the giant pressure his will exuded forced her to the ground. With a painful thud she landed on her knees, at his feet.

"There, that's better, isn't it? This is where you belong." He stroked her cheek and held on to her chin to make her look him in the eye.

"You belong in hell, you twisted fuck!" she managed to spit out, stiff with revulsion at his touch.

She saw his eye light up for a second at the insult. No one talked to him like that. Saw the rage that burned under his cool exterior. His hand slid down from her chin and grasped her throat, squeezing the breath out of her. Every instinct willed her hands to shoot upwards to make him let go. But any action to try and hurt him was impossible and her arms hung powerlessly at her sides as she started to see spots dance in front of her eyes from the lack of oxygen. Her whole world reduced to his hand around her throat.

"You will address me with respect, Nessa," he said hoarsely. "You will address me as Sir. Say you understand." He released the pressure ever so slightly so she could speak.

"Yes!" she gasped, unable to say anything else. "Yes I understand... Sir."

The last word pulled from her by his control, unable to stop the disgusting honorific from being uttered.

He released her throat and she fell to the floor gasping for air on all fours. Taking in big breaths of air, trying to regain her composure and scramble together her fighting spirit.

"Was it worth it Nessa? All those months on the run from me, knowing full well this is how it would end? It fascinates me that you continue to try to defy me. I need you to know that I can feel you struggle against me. Did you think these rudimentary techniques of control could stand against ME?" That last word seemed to reverberate through the hall with the force he put into it. His rage now clearly painted on his face.

Nessa snarled. He controlled her muscles; she would not be able to get up from her knees until he released her or until enough time passed for his control to fade. But her mind was still aware and active, and it reeled against his words. This could not happen again. She would not be controlled by this psychopath who had made her life a living hell. She would not be used as a weapon against his enemies. But what can she do? Any hopes of breaking his control had been dashed as soon as she was captured. He's too strong. Maybe if she provoked him enough, he would kill her and at least she would be free of him that way.

"Of course, I would defy you... Sir." She could no more have sprouted wings and flown away from this scene than address him differently after his command. But she managed to make it sound like an insult. "You're a weak-willed second-rate soldier who's had to rely on his control of me to make any difference in this war. Sir. With no powers of your own except the one that chains you to me. You are not worthy of your titles. And as soon as a gap in your disgusting hold over me appears I will make sure I finish the job I started 6 months ago. Sir."

His face remained perfectly calm. She had hoped to spark fury or indignation, to make him lash out. But all he did was touch his left shoulder with his hand and whisper: "Yes, you did manage to come very close to killing me last time, Nessa. I kept the scar as a reminder. But don't worry my little pet. I will not let you slip away this time. I will break this little rebellion like squashing an ant under my boot. And when I'm done with you, you will beg to serve me again. We both know how well you can beg."

Anger overcame fear for a moment, remembering the times he made her debase herself. Still on her knees she tried to reach for the knife again but the goon to her right kicked it out of the way.

"You really don't know when you're beaten do you?" He chuckled. "I was going to start in private, but seeing how much trouble you gave my men I think they have earned a little something, don't you?" he continued, malice twinkling in his dark eyes. Addressing his men but looking her straight in the eye he whispered hoarsely "Rip her clothes off if you please"

"NO!" she screamed and futilely she tried to get to her feet, but her knees might as well have been glued to the floor. Two sets of hands were upon her in an instant. One of them restrained her arms in a hold behind her back while the other physically ripped open her shirt and discarded it on the floor. He tugged at her pants, but she managed to get in one good kick which landed in his side and made him gasp for breath for a second. Him, she could hurt no problem. But it was no use. Despite her flailing and kicking he simply tore down her pants and was left in her underwear. Smiling sadistically while the other still had her restrained with her arms behind her back he took her bra in one hand and her panties in the other and with one giant painful rip tore them both off her body. He quickly stepped away as the Master approached again to stand before her trembling naked body, looking her appreciatively up and down.

"Much better. Now, stand up with your hands behind your back." Another nod towards the goons and they released her and walked out, leaving them alone.

She could do nothing but stand there, chest heaving as he began re-exploring her body with his hands. He traced the intricate collar inked on her neck, the physical representation of the spell that bound her to him. The spell that made his will the physical ruler of her body. The spell she had sought so hard to unravel in her months on the run. To no avail. He continued down her shoulders and cupped her breasts. He pinched both nipples hard, making her gasp, but she could not move away. He smiled at her with the nastiest expression. Then he twisted them slowly, one way and another, rubbing his thumb over the buds in a circular motion. "How I missed playing with these" he mumbled.

"You disgusting-"

He cut her off. "No. I think you will be silent for now," and any reply she had died instantly. "You are mine to do with as I will" he continued manipulating her nipples, slowly. Deliberately. Alternating cruel pulling and twisting with caressing and stroking. "And I know you and your body way better than you know them yourself" She could feel it happening again. This was the worst of it. "I know you've missed me. Your body responds to me with such need, my pet. However much you try to deny it, your body knows who owns it"

She wanted to scream but could not. His head came down and bit her in the neck, hard. "Spread your legs" he whispered in her ear.

Oh no.

She shifted her stance so her feet were shoulder width apart and felt the breeze against her sensitive folds. With her hands still clasped behind her back she felt horribly exposed and vulnerable. She tried to keep her stare on him filled with rage and hate, but fear and the beginnings of arousal were starting to take over. What was wrong with her? He did not command her to feel this way, yet it happened again so easily.

He raked his nails along her back all the way to her butt leaving angry red marks across her skin, making her take a sharp intake of breath. "You will learn again my pet, that I am the master of your body, in every way." He took her breast in his mouth and sucked her nipple between his teeth. Causing shivers of pain and pleasure to soar through her. "Tell me pet, are you wet for me?"

She had to answer. "Yes... Sir," she trembled.

With that he reached down to her pussy, which was getting damper by the second and stroked his finger all the way up her entrance. "Ah yes, wanton as ever" he chuckled. She tried to scream defiance through her eyes, but her arousal was undeniable. She hated the way her body betrayed her under his manipulations. And that struggle was exactly what turned him on. He loved demonstrating he could make her feel this way, make her body ache with need for a man she despised. With one cruel motion he penetrated her with his finger and she let out an involuntary gasp.

"You are mine!" he snarled, and inserted another finger. His thumb reached around and found her clit and he started to circle it ever so slowly. She was helpless to resist. She could not move, could not scream, there was nothing for her to do but to experience what he was doing to her, and her body responded to his every touch. His thumb started rubbing her clit harder and she moaned. She did not want to feel this way. She was completely under his control, and it killed her inside. She would have preferred him beating her, hurting her in every way imaginable. Preferred it over this, and he knew that. Oh, the pain would come, but first he would show her once again that he controlled her, and the sexual power he had over her was overwhelming.

He kept rubbing her clit with his thumb and he wrapped his other hand around her hair pulling painfully and whispered into her ear, "Ride my fingers you little slut." And she did. She had no choice. With one hand he kept gripping her hair, painfully stabilizing her, and with the other he kept his thumb on her clit, and she humped his fingers inside of her. Making them pump in and out of her. The pain from him pulling on her scalp combined with the intense pleasure that grew from her pussy. Her senses got overloaded. He bit her nipple, making her scream out. But she kept riding his fingers, riding his thumb on her clit. The sensations took over until she could no longer tell if the need to ride him came from his command or from her own urge to continue. His thumb flicked over her clit again and again while she rode his hand hard. A perverse sloshing sound accompanied every moment of her dripping pussy on his fingers.

"Come for me, Nessa!" he snarled into her ear, raking his teeth against her throat. And everything exploded. Wave after wave of pleasure and pain went through her, her knees buckled, and he tossed her to the cold marble floor where the aftershocks of her orgasm left her twitching.

He towered over her, panting from his own exertions and unquestionable arousal. If Nessa had not been in the throes of her own confusing ecstasy, she might have heard him mumble underneath his breath, "You'll learn to love me again, Nessa. I know it."