Chapter 1

I had never felt more alive, more in tune with my body and I hated it. I was kneeling on the padded floor with my back to the door, my knees spread wide. I was not bound, it was no longer needed. I felt so exposed, naked in the chilly room. My breasts were drawn up, my nipples hard as little pebbles. My trainer had shaved my pussy bare this morning, the first time since my capture that my bush had been taken. I dared not complain.

There was a low table beside me, perhaps an inch high, the top surface had been molded to fit my back. I had never been placed on it, but remember being made to wiggle in a box filled with sand until He was happy. A pair of fur-lined wrist cuffs were attached at one end and a matching set of ankle cuffs hung by short chains from the raised stirrups at the other.

My heart raced as I heard the door open, then close. My trainer's voice, "turn and face your new Master, girl."

I rotated as I had been taught, placing my hands on the floor in front of me to help turn me around. I didn't understand, only my trainer was there. Could it be? I could no longer hate this man, that had burned out weeks ago.

But never using pain. His methods made me do all the work required. One in particular stands out in my memory. He would hold me down, his chest against mine and most of his weight resting on me. I could beat on his back with my fists but not much else. Such a patient man. I still didn't fully understand him. He had worked me up so many times, even rubbing against me until he came over my stomach. But he had never taken that final step. I could fight him in a never ending battle and make no progress. Eventually his patience overcame my desire to fight. My mound tingled at the thought of any of the things he might do.

He was holding a stiff whip, like always. He had never hit me with it, or caused me pain in any other way. He had punished me numerous other ways, always driving me to the brink of orgasm and keeping me there.

I froze as he walked behind me, my nipples hardened even more when he tapped them with the whip. He knelt behind me, I shivered when his bare oiled chest pressed against my back. He set the whip beside me, his hands wrapped around me, his fingers lacing in mine. "It's been very hard these last few days. I've wanted you so much. And today I'm finally going to have you."

One thing he had taught me, unless he told me to be silent, it was okay to speak, "I'm glad it's you. Anyone else I'd have at least made a show of resisting."

He turned my left hand palm down, then drew my fingers along my leg and through my moistening cleft. It was not the first time I had touched myself at his guidance, but with the hair gone I was much more sensitive. With my knees spread wide my lips were slightly parted, I could feel the thin barrier nestled there, my flower his to pluck.

He replaced my finger with his own, caressing lightly through my slit. He brought my right hand up, squeezing the firm mounds of my breasts, tweaking my nipples. "So very ripe. A luscious fruit, and it's harvest time. Get on the table."