I Drown, I Float

All she could do was wait and hate. And Seraphelle had become very good at hating; in fact, she was completely consumed with it. She hated EVERYTHING.

She hated where she was (wherever that might be). She hated the ever burning candles that wafted a perfectly timed cycling of all of her favorite aromas. She hated the temperature always being in a range that kept her naked body cool yet not cold at all. She hated that she was strapped down to some well cushioned table or rack that was covered with the softest gentlest fur she'd ever felt. She hated how comfortable it was to sleep upon and even more so how wonderful it felt against her erect nipples and belly as she was shoved against it. She hated this whole situation that she was in and hated that it was due to her trying to drive whilst drinking her favorite scalding drink that had caused her car crash and left her (hopefully only) temporarily blind and vulnerable to this arrangement. She hated that she had to be fed her every meal like a baby and that she had no control over where she relieved herself. She hated that when she was being cleaned afterwards, it was in exactly the way she would have demanded, were she some member of royalty. She hated that every meal had been the absolute best food that she'd ever eaten in her life. And being a chef in (what she now considered to be her former) life, not being able to see it or know where it was being prepared was pure torture.

She hated the man whom she had recklessly crashed into and whom had pulled her from the life-threatening wreckage only to bring her here where he controlled this and every other aspect of her life since...(how long had it even been...?) and for the foreseeable future. She laughed at this hate because she actually couldn't see any thing at all. Well, except for the slight change in light and dark that she took to mean day and night. She hated that she didn't ever know what time it was and hated that, even though the daily applied medicines were helping, she was actually beginning to not care.

She hated how she was beginning to hate how long it took this man who face she'd never seen to arrive every morning. She hated that she had begun to look forward to his arrival.

She hated how hearing him move towards the door to where she currently was made the hair stand up on the back of her neck and hated even more how the creak as the door opened made her visibly wet. She hated how he'd just move silently around the room not speaking allowing something (a finger...or something else?) to brush against her exposed skin teasing her with what she knew was coming. She hated how his hands were just the right balance of scratchy and softness as if he'd lotioned them after working construction all day. She hated that this perfect stranger knew exactly where to grab her hipbone as he positioned himself to enter her. She hated how large he was and how he filled her to the brink of near pain with every thrust. She hated how he would slowly pull almost all the way out and then slam back in full hilt against her. She hated how he purposefully went just slow enough to make her orgasm build and build and build.

She hated that she enjoyed it so much. She hated that just as she was about to finally cum, he'd pull out completely leaving her on the brink and gasping. She hated how much it 'almost' hurt when he'd then force himself into her anus. She hated that, no matter how hard she tried to tense up so that when he entered her it would actually hurt, her body was so turned on that it instinctively relaxed and eagerly accepted him. She hated how viciously he'd pound her this way. And she hated how hard this would make her cum every single time. She hated hearing herself screaming, pleading for more as her juices flowed in a steady stream down her legs as he ruthlessly slammed the full weight of his body into her (prior to this new situation, virginal) back door. She hated that he knew pulling her hair was the cherry on top that would push her over another edge and make her cum yet again. She hated feeling him shoot off inside her. And she hated knowing that she hated it because it meant that he was done railing her.

She hated that she more and more anticipated what was coming next. She hated that she had begun to long for this too. She hated how he would knot the hair atop her head until she'd open her mouth to scream. She hated that instead of a scream, a lustful moan would be the actual resulting utterance. She hated how roughly he'd shove his still throbbing erection into her throat. She hated that, at some point, licking everything off of a stranger's dick that had just cum in her anus and been in her dripping box just before that was now her favorite treat. A treat that she'd, with out regret or skipping a breath, choose above all the Ben & Jerry's and Godiva in the world. She hated how she'd almost cum again from this all. She hated that she'd have to wait until the next morning to resolve that particular itch. She hated hearing the promise from him every day that as soon as she could see her way out that she was free to go. She hated that, the way things were going; she might contemplate faking blindness when she could finally see again.

She hated how quickly she had offered up to 'do anything' not to be left blinded at the site of the wreckage and how easily she had accepted these resulting conditions. She hated thinking poorly of someone who'd allow this to happen to them knowing full well that she was in denial of how ok she was with it having had happened to her.

She waited there full of hate clenching her eyes tight with it. Waiting... And as the door creaked open so did her eyes and she realized that she could see! Not perfectly by any means, but well enough to see that while this whole time she thought she had been strapped with something unbreakable, she had been held by simple Velcro straps. Straps that she could easily free herself from at any moment. And well enough to see that her clothes and purse had been sitting in a corner of this room on a bench matching the one to which she had been bound.

He had always said that when she "saw fit" to leave that she was free to go and that he wouldn't attempt to stop her.

So yes she was full of hatred. She smoldered with hatred. And right now she hated the fact that this epiphany had actually come 3 days ago. She hated that she so loved the sex and the food and the everything else that she had chosen not to leave.

She could now hear the moving down the hallway towards her and like Pavlov's dog, her crotch began to salivate. She hated that she couldn't find the desire to "escape." She hung her head in self hatred and again searched for a catalyst to flee. Saraphelle could easily just unstrap herself, get dressed and walk right out of the situation into unfettered freedom. She just had to find the will to do so. She looked for it everywhere. She was looking for it as she stared at her professionally cleaned clothing. She was looking for it amongst her visible car keys (which now had attached to them a remote she had never seen before) and she was looking for it on the lavishly carpeted floor. She searched everywhere for it...but she never found it.

As the door finally opened, she expected someone was close behind her.

She hated that all too soon she would be left alone again after he was done with her.

Yes, Seraphelle's life was 100% hatred, and above all else she hated how much she absolutely loved every single second of it.