Violet stared at the darkness growing in the sky with milk anticipation. It was the first time she had been alone among the village rose garden in a long time. With a sight, she laid down on the stone bench, using her arms as a pillow, and starred up as the stars began popping their heads from their beds to greet those waiting below. She always felt more at peace here, outside, beneath the stars. She was one of seven children, six of which were girls, raised by a father with money and a cruel desire for more. He had taken to selling his daughters in secret, though none of the other children knew it. They all thought their siblings had gone off to marry and live happy lives. Violet had seen the papers; she knew the truth. That was why she was hiding from her father now.
With three of her sisters already gone, it left Violet as the oldest of the children. She was seventeen, with a heart full of fire, and hair to match. Her name came from the color of her eyes, though no one couldexplain it. They had never seen a baby born with such brilliant violent eyes. Her siblings all had her hair, that was true, but they bore their father’s deep brown eyes. She supposed she may have gotten the gene from her mother, though she was dead now, and Violet supposed she would never know.
“Someone so young and beautiful really should not be outside alone.” Said a voice. Violet sat up so quickly her head spun and she looked around. There was a man standing in the shadows of a rosebush, his tall frame illuminated on one side by the village lights. He was well built, from what she could tell, and had a gentle and kind voice.
“Who are you?” She demanded of him, her hand secretly going to the dagger at her belt. She has always been independent, and not very lady-like. She often wore pants, as she did Now, under her corset and shirt, and there was never a place she went without her dagger in tow. The man chuckled low and moved closer, becoming fully visible in the lights. Violet felt her eyes wide in surprise. He was handsome! Perhaps in his mid-thirties, with long dark hair that fell over his face a little, and blue eyes that shone even in this dim lighting.
“No one you need worry about stallbing, my pet.” He said.
“I am most certainly not your pet!” Violet snapped, her temperature flaring. He laughed again, which only irritated her more.
“Very well, then.” He said, something disguised in his voice. She felt a whisper of fear. Perhaps this was the man her father intended to sell her to? But that was ridiculous! None of them had ever revealed themselves before. Still, she shifted further from him as he sat on the benchmark beside her. “My name is Eric Blaine.”
Blaine? She blinked in surprise. They were one of the highest noble houses in the land! Right under the King and Queen, and more rich than her father could ever dream of becoming. He was looking at her expectedly, and she jumped in surprise.
“My name is Violet, sir Blaine. Tisa pleasure to meet you.”
“You mean you are not happy to be meeting me, but must under the circumstances.” He laughed again. It was not a question. Violet scowled. “In any case, I’d best be getting on. I am only in the village until tomorrow, and I need my rest.”
“Good day.” Violet said, as if dismissing him. And under her breath she added; “And good riddance, as well!” The man called Eric Blaine got up and strolled away, apparently in no hurry and Violet scowled after him. In no mood to continue her stargazing, she got up and stalked after him, making sure to keep him a fair distance away from her.
Her father’s manor stood on a hill at the far end of the village. It was a handsome place with lush gardens of its own that she rarely enjoyed. With three sisters gone, and her father playing dirty games, it seemed…hollow. She ran up the hill and slipped in the side door that lead through the kitchens. They were deserted at this hour; everyone seemed to have gone to bed. Violet smiled wryly to herself; she hadn’t realized how late it really was. She crept up the back staircase to her room, let herself in and locked the door behind her. Not bothering to light and lamps, she stripped out of her clothes and made to reach for her night-dress.
A flutter of movement from the corner alerted her and she drew her dagger from it’s sheathe. There were two men in her room, near as she could tell in the darkness that blinded her. Neither spoke, but sprung from the shadows as if to attack her. She sliced at one with her weapon, and he cried out as it tore clothes and flesh, leaving a gash in his left arm. She screamed, but no one came to help her. She had a flashing realization; it was her turn. She struggled to keep away from them, backing to the window and pushing it open. The men recovered quickly from her feeble attacks and broke after her, but she had already left from the window.
It was a good think her room was on the second floor. Violet landed with cat-like grace, and then realized she was out of her room dressed in nothing but her pride. She shivered, ducking into some bushes and crawling uncomfortablely away from the manor. If they wanted her, she wasn’t going down without a fight. She put her dagger in her teeth and continued to crawl, glancing up once at her deserted bedroom window. She wondered where the men had gone. Had they gave up so easily?
No. She hadn’t made it fully past her fathers property when she was manhandled from the bushes by her hair. She screamed, pulling out her dagger quickly and cutting her lip in the process. Her own blood dripped down her chin as she attacked the men. They were, from all appearances, the same ones from her bedroom. They had tracked her easily. Violet cursed at her inabilities. They at last succeeded in tearing the dagger from her hands and wrestling her to the ground. Why did no one come to help her? Was the entire village deaf? Then she remembered that her father had quite an expansive property and they probably couldn’t hear her. The men yanked her arms behind her back and lashed them together with stiff, rough rope. Violet struggled and screamed until they muffled her cries with a gag. She struggled against them, but her bonds were tied so tight it was useless. They ended her mutilating ensemble with a blindfold, and one of them picked her up and carried her like a sack of potatoes.
Violet screamed, but it was no use. She was helpless against them, especially when they grew wear of her screams and knocked her out. She faded into blackness, her body growing limp.
She awoke in the semi-darkness of dawn, her body aching from her struggles, and her skin cut from the thorns in the bushes she had crawled through. Her blindfold had been removed, and she could see all around her now. She was in a cage, apparently strapped to the top of a carriage, still wearing nothing but her skin. She blushed in mutilation and screamed in rage, but they hadn’t removed her gag. She tried to bring her hands down to take it out herself, but they had been shackled to the top of the cage she was sitting in so she could no sooner bring them down than to stand up.
The carriage had long since left the village behind. She could see the top of the driver’s head, but didn’t recognize him, and had no idea who the occupation of the carriage was. She struggled to get comfortable, but the small expansion of the cage made that near to impossible. She scowled in her disgust; her father had managed to sell her and she had known it was coming. Bastard.
They passed a farm and the woman trying the gardens looked up, but there was no shock written on her face. Sex slaves were common things to see these days, especially coming from villages. She shivered in disgust, realized she had just acknowledged herself as such; a sex slave. She shook her head firmly, decided that whoever this man was that bought her would pay, even if she had to bite off his cock.
She was in the cage for what seemed like forever, though only two dawns passed before they reached their destination. The carriage rod up into the mountains where a large palace (smaller only slightly than the King’s) lost in the mist. Violet shivered in the cold, wishing she had at least been decently dressed. They stopped, and the two men that had taken her captive (one with his arm in a bandage), pulled her cage down and carried her inside the palace before she could get a good look at the man that was now her “owner”. She sneered at the idea.
They carried her into the palace and down several flights to a dungeon of sorts. It was empty, and not at all what she expected. Instead of several cages made to torture prisoners, it had a single, room-sized cage at one end with chains inside, and several other devices. There was a large table filled with smaller Things that Violet wondered at. She had heard tales of these things. They were commonly known as “sex toys”, small machines that worked by magic, and were used to train and torture sex slaves and make them submit. She saw one laying on the table that looked like a long, slim tube with a rounded tip and a knob on the opposite end. There was also a whip, a flogger, and a riding crop, amid various other things she didn’t recognize. She saw a device that reminded her of a cross, except that it was shaped more like a “t” that had had it’s bottom cut and spread. She supposed it was so someone could be locked there, spread eagle, and unable to escape.
The men unlocked her from the cage and throw her into the larger one by her hair. One guarded the door while the other led her inside and locked something around her neck. It was a metal ring that was connected to a five-foot chain in the wall. She pulled against it, but it was firmly attached. He snickered, then left the cage, locking it behind him and hanging the key ring from a hook near the dungeon door. Violet began her protests by tearing the gag off and screaming at the top of her lungs. She didn’t really know why she was screaming, but she knew that it was a great way to vent her frustration.
She grew wear of this in a few hours and resigned herself to pacing as far as the chain would allow. It only allowed her to go to the bars on either side of her, but not to the door. She estimated the cage at ten feet wide by fourteen feet long. It was enough to drive her mad. She tried using the buckle from the gag to pick the lock, but only succeeded in breaking the gag and throwing it at the bars in frustration. How long had she been down here? How long would the mystery man keep her here before he appeared? Several hours seemed to pass before she sat down and leaned against the cool wall, her nipples erect in the cold. She shivered, wishing for her freedom, or for a window at the very least. Just when she Thought she could take no more waiting, the door to the dungeons opened, and a man stepped inside.
He was shadowed againstthe light in the hall, making him indistinguishable, but when he closed the door, he was enveloped in the darkness just as she was. He did not speak, but moved silently to the floor-lamp candle-holders and lit one, six flames illuminating the room in a way she didn’t expect. She couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips as she looked upon him.
It was the man from the rose gardens.
“You!” She spat. “I should have known you were behind this you filtered pig. I demand my freedom this instant.”
Eric Blaine let out that low laugh, the one that indicated he was amused with what she had said. Violet scowled at him and struggled with renewed affect against the chain that held her.
“You were expensive. I cannot and will not let you go. You are here for a reason, pet.” He said, taking the key ring from the hook and unlocking the cage door. He stepped inside, leaving it ajar behind him. She watched him as he moved close to her, and made as if to touch her. She backhandedhim with every drop of her strength. His head thrown to the side, his expression was unreadable, though she saw his jaw tighten. In one, swift movement, he grabbed a fistful of her fire red hair and pulled. Violet cried out, falling to her knees before him. “You’ll be punished for your insolence, pet, and for removing the gag without permission.” He unlocked the collar, and dragged her kicking and screaming over to the strange looking cross. There he hoisted her with no effort and cuffed her arms and legs. She struggled, but found the device to be quite secure in holding her. He then paid her little mind as he rummaged on the table, collecting several things.
He returned with the flogger, and the slim device she had seen earlier, along with a chatity belt. Violet stared in horror at him, knowing what he was planning.
“I think twenty five lashes should do it.” He said to her with a smile. “Don’t you agree pet?”
“Don’t touch me!” She shouted, and then screamed as he raised the flogger and struck his first blow. It landed across her left breast, her nipple singing from the pain. A red mark appeared there. “Bastard!” She spat on his face. He wiped it away and struck her again, this time on her pussy. She screamed and compromised in her age.
“You will not speak to me in such a manner, pet. Because you are new, you have not learned, but you will address me as ‘Master’ and thank me for every blow I deal. They are lessons for you, and you should be grateful for such.”
“If you think I’m going to bloody thank you for beating me, you’ve got another thing coming!” Violet snapped, her heart racing. The third blow handed on her stomach and she cried out again.
“Thank your Master, pet!” He ordered. “For each blow I deal.”
“No!” She shouted, and he hit her again. She shouted with each one, and soon tears were streaming down her face. She counted to twenty-five, and he stopped, just as he had said he would. She was sobbing by this point, herbody bruised and red in many places. Her skin stung like she had walked through a neck-tall field of singing grass. She panted and glared at him, her defiance still unbroken.
“You are going to be most entertaining to break, pet.” He said with a smile. Violet grew at him. He reached down and pulled the slim device from the ground where he’d laid it and pushed it with no problem into her pussy. Violet jerked, the penetration unexpected and unwelcome. She was not a virgin, having had sex with a previous lover a year or so ago, but it still made her mistake. Then, she realized with horror that his beating had made more than her face wet. Her pussy was all but dripping with her fluids. He turned the knob and she jerked in surprise. The slim device was vibrating inside her. “You know what an orgasm is, don’t you pet?”
“Of course I do!” She snapped.
“Good. I think you will do well to heed my orders.” He picked up the chatity belt and snapped it on her over the vibratingtoy. It muffled the sound and prevented her from using her vaginal muscles to push it out. “You will stay here until I return and you are not to orgasm. Perhaps that will teach you not to defy me.” And with that, he turned and left the dungeon, leaving her writing on the star shaped rack with her arousal fire within her.
The vibrator shivered within her pussy, and she could feel her juices dripping out around it, wet on her legs. She felt the intensity need to orgasm and free herself from her age, but she wasn’t really looking forward to another beating, which she was sure would come if she did so. She shivered, aroused and horny, feeling a desperate urge to cum, though knowing it would bring no relief. There was no telling when Blaine would return, and the vibrator was not coming out of her pussy; the chatity belt hold it firmly into place. She moaned, and it echoed forlornly off the walls. How long was he to torture her this way? It felt like hours had already passed, andshe was still holding back her orgasm with increased difficulty. At last, he returned, bringing with him her relief, though she couldn’t explain why.
“Good girl, pet.” He criticized, seeing that she had not cum. “Thank your Master for the last three hours of pleasure.” Three hours, had it only been that long? It felt like an entire night. Violet opened her pared mouth and tried to shove the words from it. Determined to subdue his anger for now, she spoke what he wanted to hear.
“Th…thank you M…master.” She said, her voice nothing more than a whisper. He beamed at her.
“Very good. I think my pet deserves a reward.” And he took off the chatity belt and removed the vibrator. Violet was left with a sense of loss; she had hoped so desperately that he would let her cum. He got to his knees and put out his tongue, running it from her rosebud to her clip. Violet cried out in surprise. “You are to cum in my mouth, pet, but you must ask permission before you do, or you will be” She did not respond, for she knew how he wanted her to, and she was beginning to relocate some of her defiance.
Blaine began licking her pussy, plunging his tongue in and out of her wet hole. Her pubic hair must have ticked his nose, she thought, and it gave her a sick sense of pleasure. He sucked on her clip and she felt her arousal again. It was mixed with self-disgust. Why was it this man could Turn her on so well? She shivered, her pussy dripping again. He lapped up her liquid with apparent hunger, and continued massaging her throbbing clitoral hood with his tongue. At last, she felt herself pushed towards a rapid orgasm and hurriedly spoke.
“Master, may I cum for you?” She begged. He nodded, continuing his sucking and Violet felt her body burst into pleasure. Her back arched against her Restraints and her juices flooded from her pussy and into his mouth. Moaning in ecstasy, she feel her orgasm climax and then subside, her breath heavy and her skin beaded withsweat.
“Good pet.” He said with a smile. “Very good.”
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