Chapter 5

"Does it bother you?" She asked me.

"Does what bother me, drugging random women?"

"Yes." Sam looked out the front. "I mean, I can understand why you drugged me. And what you did to the cops was innocent enough I guess. And I didn't like Tim at all, he seemed crass, Master."

I chuckled.

"But Amanda ... she didn't do anything."

"Yeah, but she sure is sexy as all hell, isn't she?"

Sam hesitated, then blurted out. "Master, she's so god damned hot ... She's what, like twenty one or so? Just barely old enough to be in a bar?"

"Check her ID."

Sam reached back and went through Amanda's purse. "Master, she's twenty."

I whistled under my breath.

"Master, I'd never, not in my wildest dreams... " She paused.

"Yes, Sam?"

"Master." I heard a tiny piece of the old Samantha in her voice. "Master, give her to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, Master. You're going to be nice to her, we'll have a little harmless fun, then you'll make suggestions ... give her commands ... and improve her life. You'll probably even give her money."

I frowned as I drove. Sam had, in fact, described exactly what I had in mind. "So?"

"So ... Master. You've taken everything from me. Everything. My career, my reputation, my ... my..." She turned and put her head in her arms and sobbed. "You've even taken my sexuality ... all because of what I did at Fielding."

"All I ever wanted was to be strong. All I ever wanted was to be safe and strong, to let no one hurt me." She lifted her head and traced her finger down the window pane as we drove. A tiny rivulet of water ran from the condensation of her breath down into the flashing and quivered there.

"Daddy used to hurt us ... mommy and me. He'd come home drunk and hurt us. I used to pray to god that he'd stop drinking, but he never did. I stopped believing in god. I stopped praying. I remember sitting under the dining room table listening to him hit momma, and knowing that he'd hit me soon."

"I remember deciding that men were bastards, and that I would never ever let a man hurt me ... not again."

"I guess I went too far. I hurt people ... but I was so angry." She paused. "Maybe I still am, I don't know any more. I don't even know this girl, but inside ... inside I want to use her, eat her up, like a piece of pastry."

"I even," she continued, "I even know that you're going to say no. But I don't care. Inside ... I want her, to use her. That's what sex is about, using people. It's what power is about also ... and now you have that power, over me, others ... so you get the sex you want. But you keep pushing me away, even when I know you want me."

The conversation had turned uncomfortable, intimate. I didn't like hearing the raw stuff that went on in Sam's head, but I'd programmed her to tell it to me.

I didn't answer her request.

We arrived home and put Amanda in the bed downstairs. She'd sleep for a couple of hours at the most.

I took Sam upstairs and poured us both a drink. The ride home had been interesting, even unsettling.

"Sam. Samantha ... There's something twisted in you. I don't know how you can think the way you do. What I want to do with Amanda is fun, and then I set her out on a full life, with better prospects."

"But Master, what if that guy, the one you sent away, what if he really was the perfect guy for her? What if they were going to be like one of those old married couples where they started out rocky and ended up needing each other, loving each other so much that when one dies, the other goes a week later?"

"How can you decide?"

I shook my head. I was confused. When I had started this project, only revenge mattered. Getting revenge on Sam, and it was justified ... wasn't it? But now ... it was turning elaborate. Lab assistants, cops, bar owners, bouncers ... and some girl and her boyfriend.

Every where I used the drug, life altered. It was like having an unfair advantage. Like being able to use a machine gun during bow hunting season. And life didn't just alter for these people, it altered forever.

Sam sipped her wine. "You're like me, Master. You use the power you're given. You gave into it tonight. Used it. Changed someone's life on a whim."

"Shut up, Sam."

She nodded, silent. She wrote 'like just now' on the napkin in front of her. Then she handed it to me.

A long time passed quietly. I mulled over what she'd said.

"No."

I gathered my wits for a moment longer.

"No. It's not true. Not all actions are equal. When you claim that I'm like you, you're comparing altering people's lives to destroying them. You have destroyed lives, ruined people, turned people out into the streets.

"Sure I alter what I touch, but you alter the soil when you plant a seed ... or a tree. You alter the life of a cat when you adopt it from the shelter, or when you raise a child with one set of values and not another.

"Your morals are poison, Sam. Your moral equivalence is blinding you to real people. Yes, I'll make changes in people's lives. I'll punish some and reward others. Isn't that what a boss or a parent does?"

"Well, whether or not I was elected ... I have the power now, and I'll use it. But I'll use it to try to make things a little bit different. Maybe better, maybe not.

"A wise man once said something like "I believe that God gave man a brain, and He intended us to use it."

"Well Sam, I believe that I came into this power, this secret, not to hide it or run from it, but to use it."

She drummed her fingers on the table. She wanted to talk.

I smiled at her, a kind of hard smile. "No, this is not court. You don't get to rebut me. I'm the judge, jury, and executioner here. My word is law, and I find you in contempt of life. My sentence is for you to be my slave until either you GET IT, or you die."

She looked furious. She nodded. And just then I noticed something. A smell. Sam was aroused. I looked down at her legs, exposed under her tiny skirt. There was a trace of moisture right at the top of her legs, right where the skirt hid her crotch from view.

I stood up. "Being put in your place turns you on, doesn't it, Sam?" She shook her head. "Answer me."

Her face turned red and a flush spread over her chest.

"Yes, Master" She said in a voice filled with loathing.

"Stand up and strip."

She stood up from the barstool. Looking at me with hostility, she unzipped the tiny skirt and slid it down her fine legs. Then she pulled the tube top off, exposing her magnificent rack. The elastic band stockings went next, then the tiny panties.

She stood there, naked in front of me. I could smell her arousal. A tiny drip of fluid ran down her inner thigh.

"What does Sam need?" I asked.

She shook her head and her chest flushed a deep red. Her breathing quickened, and her nipples crinkled into hard points.

"Tell me what you need, Sam."

She shook her head again.

"Tell me or I send you to the shed."

A tiny sound.

"What, I can't hear you."

'cock'

"Louder, Sam."

"Cock"

"Ask me for it."

"Please."

"No Sam. ASK me for it."

She shook where she stood. I could imagine the emotions at war within her. Her body was betraying her at this very moment, craving me, my touch, my cock.