Dark Days (Written Pictures #2) (3 page)

CHAPTER V – Silken Slumbers

It was a sense of such lightness of being that she could scarcely believe it was her own. The torments of nightmares firmly behind her now she was awake, Raven smiled as she felt at ease. The realisation that it had been no more than a trick of her mind warmed her and she luxuriated in the familiar silken sheets, the expensive adornments of her bed. The cage was there on the floor beside her as was the tell-tale breathing of her slave within. Raven stretched, arms gliding easily wider in an extension of pleasure. All was where it should be, all was well.

In that delicious state of half sleep, Raven felt herself first floating then swooping before floating again on a sea of silk. This was her true place, her real place and she strove to rationalise why her dreams had tormented her so, registering vaguely that her brow was damp, no doubt with sweat brought on by the stress they had caused.

Her mind drifted between temporary resting places; the aggression she had milked from Immelmann, the selection of a girl that seemed to be the theme of her nightmares and the tumbling fall that her sleeping mind had inflicted on her. ‘Some dream therapist quack would have a fucking field day with
this
one,’ she thought. It would wrap one of those psycho-babbling idiots into a Gordian knot if they tried to work her out.

‘Work her out?’ Raven’s inner voice continued, the only thing to work out was which crop to use on Mela. That would help her work through the frustrated excesses of her troubled dreams. ‘Perhaps the cat,’ she mused, picturing herself draping the nine strands between her leather gloved fingers. A rounding of her arm would bring it back to flay against that porcelain skin. Raven extended her arm across the bed, mimicking her well-practiced technique, feeling the gentle resistance as the bed clothes parted.

‘The bullwhip?’ suggested her inner companion and Raven saw an image of herself twist on towering heels, the long leather strand coiling beside her legs before unleashing it with a snap of perfect fury. ‘Hmmmm, the bullwhip,’ the voice repeated with satisfaction, the familiar retort snapping against soft skin confirming the choice. ‘It’s been a long time, my old friend.’

If only in dreams, her slave, Mela, had rebelled and that was enough reason to work things out on her. It was a comforting conclusion that settled soothingly, exquisitely enveloping her in a downy embrace. And as Raven drifted back into a deeper sleep her last thought was of leather striking flesh and the satisfaction of knowing all was still well with the world.

CHAPTER VI – As It Should Be

The strong male hand that coaxed her legs apart wasn’t unexpected as Raven spirited up once again from the depths of sleep. Immelmann had done this before, visiting in her semi-waking state just to fuck her before he busied himself his day. He wasn’t perfect. No, he had weaknesses that she readily exploited but in him she had found some form of place, some form of belonging, a security she needed.

It wasn’t love. It would never be that. In fact she thought herself no longer capable of what she considered an unnecessary and flimsy emotion. It was need, purely and simply. Need for shelter, for food, for sex in her own way that sated a carnal desire to force or be forced. She had found a person and a place that needed her as much as she needed them. It was a simple, symbiotic relationship. She would though draw a lesson from her dreams - someone was clearly trying to tell her something.

The nudge to her sex drew a groan. She would not fight this time. She would let him have his way, show some appreciation for once in the process, as long as he got it right. God he was hard. But of course he was, he was with
her
. It was a satisfaction born of past successes - she could harden even the most stubborn male.

Hearing a laugh, Raven afforded herself a rare smile. Her unexpected welcome had once again stolen a march and disarmed her bedfellow. ‘Men,’ she mused silently. They were all the same. Fuck them well and even the strongest were like puppy dogs that would follow you to the ends of the earth. The way to a man’s heart may be through his stomach but she would rather capture their whole being. To do that, the delights of her body were the only thing that could win the day. And so Raven accommodated his girth with a welcoming contraction of inner muscles, embracing him in her own warm silk.

He really was bigger than she remembered. Raven exhaled, focussing on the sensations stirring deep inside. So good. A sleepy fuck was the perfect antidote to a stressful night. She wouldn’t thrust violence for once into their sexual play - he was already doing precisely what she needed to put her back on track and banish the doubts from her dreams.

The twisting was new but very much welcome. He was learning and it deliciously enhanced the pleasure she felt from each assured thrust. He had clearly been working out how to keep pace with her but he would never keep up. Sex was how Raven extracted and imposed power, always learning, always striving to improve, always wanting to milk more. She had made him improve too. To the comforting blanket of that thought she settled back to luxuriate in being fucked in just the way she needed to be.

CHAPTER VII – Watered Down

The unexpected slap to her ass tore through her dreams like a category five tornado, ripping apart her blissfully blanketed slumber, to catapult Raven awake. Her eyes shot open only to be stung. Where the sheen of white silken sheets should have been was the refracted light from the overhead sun. The slithering over her arms was liquid not silk and as she gulped in air it was tainted with the stench of rubber and heavy with salt rather than the subtle fragrances she had expected.

An avalanche of sensory input buried her confused brain which raced to properly place her. Something pulled at her body and Raven looked down to see the tide retiring, twisting her around. But it didn’t drag her away, impaled as she was on a sinister hardness that she had thought was male. The reality now registered as the nerve endings in her branded ass sang around it. This wasn’t him, wasn’t Immelmann, she was outside and it was already hot.

Raven’s mind raced to answer a thousand questions that simultaneously exploded. A dozen ‘whats?’ A score of ‘hows?’ A myriad of ‘whys?’ But before she could pick her priority, the tearing off of her facemask had seawater flooding her lungs with her first exposed breath.

Raven panicked. Normally well-marshalled survival instincts fled in her time of direst need. The saltwater already stung her eyes as they darted first left then right, to orientate herself. She held her breath. Buy time. Gather senses. Try to think.

A vague body shape up to her right had her clawing for it but as she reached, her shoulder screamed a reminder of her earlier injury and she had no choice but to drop her arm back down.

Up! Up to the surface; of course it was so simple and wasn’t far but her muddled mind lacked its usual crisp focus. Still, Raven had enough presence to know up was safer so with an urgent kick against a sandy floor she felt herself rise, the thick dildo onto which she had been impaled slithering from her.

With a jarring pain to her breasts though, her ascent was abruptly halted and snapping her head down Raven saw that the rings through her pierced nipples were attached to a chain which ran into the murk below. If she panicked before, now she panicked doubly so and drew in more seawater as she gasped to the shock.

She had to find a way, any way, to survive. The thought flashed to kick and to hell with the consequences to her nipples but she was loathe to. The delay of that internal debate only increased her peril. Even if she did now it would take time. Her enduring existence was already no longer hers to ensure. Terror. She was already lost but before she could think further, the life-giving mask was clamped back on to her face to allow her air.

Through the newly fogged faceplate, she could see the fuzzy outline of the man that permitted her to breathe. This place was a man’s world, a brutal world and a thought hit home; she was entirely dependent on men. Raven had barely made the connection before the mask was again wrenched away. Her panic renewed, any thoughts beyond survival destroyed.

== ~ ==

It was one of those warm twenty-five degree days that made the world seem such a pleasant place and as he relaxed on the whitewashed pier in the shade of a parasol, Alexei sipped his precisely chilled champagne. It was a beautiful day indeed and the glistening calm of the Caspian Sea belied the struggle for life that bubbled and frothed just a foot or so below the surface.

This one was a fighter, he liked that. That would prolong his entertainment and perhaps even hold his interest. There was a pure pleasure to be had in seeing the American woman claw for survival and torture her own body in the process. She would make a fine toy. He would unleash the monsters that lurked hungrily in the dark recesses of his creativity and show it off to his world. With the merest lifting of his finger, he permitted her another breath.

== ~ ==

The second replacement of the mask was the last Raven was allowed and much as she stretched and tugged at the chains attached to her nipple rings, the heavyset man ensured he remained a half step beyond her clawing reach, moving the mask to encourage her forward, inflicting more discomfort on herself with each kick of her legs.

The saltwater burned her eyes but Raven could see enough to register where he was now pointing. It was obvious what she had to do to win her next breath. The choice was stark; impale herself and live, resist and die. Degradation or death was a bleak choice, though in reality there was no choice at all. Raven twisted and kicked, raising her body until she could clutch the shaft and guided herself back down onto the mounted phallus, winning her reward of air with the replacement of the mask.

Her next breath was her focus now. Raven knew it would not be long before the mask was again tugged out of her grasping hands and so she gulped, and as she did, she had no way of noticing a second man behind her ratchet the chain to her nipples just that little bit shorter.

When the inevitable removal of the mask came again, Raven had secured a minimalist victory, managing to fill her lungs for the first time since the ordeal exploded upon her sleeping mind. With the mask held not far above her, she paused, unsure of what they were wanting until the urgency to draw another breath made up her mind and she kicked for the mask.

The shot of pain in both her nipples as they stretched was instantaneous. She immediately sunk back only to impale herself deeper than ever, lungs already starting to squeeze. She grabbed for the mask. A finger jabbed at her injured shoulder, her only reward. There were two men here, two men she was dependent on. Raven allowed her arms to float back to her side.

Again a choice; it was becoming a sickening theme. Pain is life, yes she already got that, thank you very much. After all, she had used such tactics herself to try to break Katarina down. There was only ever one real choice though. This time Raven braced herself before kicking again strongly to reach the mask, gaining her objective and finding it clamped against her face by a large hand, allowing her another breath as she fought the pain in her nipples that scolded her and urged her to settle back down.

Even with her penchant for the more painful derivatives of pleasure, Raven couldn’t cope with the stretching of her nipples for long and stilling her legs she allowed herself to settle back on the phallus from which she had never properly escaped. It was just what they wanted.

Screwing up her eyes, Raven focussed her inner strength, trying to ignore the pulse of protest from her nipples and a ping of arousal in her loins. The latter was the start of what she feared would be betrayal by her body as she slid back down, fully impaling herself on the thickly veined phallus.

She understood this game now. A power trip. Pure. Simple. She knew them. After all she had been on plenty. What they wanted was clear. Maybe they should get more than a sadistic kick out of it though. She would show off her body, display more than just their authority. Give them a thrill. They were imposing a process on her and she would impose her body right back in their faces. She would use that against them in time. For that though she first needed to have them thinking with their dicks.

And so, with a grunt of determination, Raven kicked again, straining to reach the mask and winning a breath just as she feared she couldn’t stretch any more. Kicking to hold herself there she looked through the faceplate to the closest man, parting her lips unnecessarily to help draw in air.

The next time Raven allowed her blink to lengthen. Perhaps it might hint at the growing feelings she needed to show. She could last no more than five kicks this time but it was enough to fill aching lungs.

Eyes were watching her, observing her slender form as she struggled to hold herself up against the mask. They would want to see more though and gulping her lungs full, Raven allowed herself to sink back and fully impale herself once again, reaching her hand down between her legs to imply her eagerness for it to settle deep.

Training. It was the one thing that sunk into her mind as the remorseless cycle of self-induced pain and pleasure continued. Kick, pain, breathe; still, sink, filled. The lack of oxygen made it difficult to think properly but Raven focussed on the act, lengthening her legs in the kick as best she could, shimmying her shoulders to ensure her breasts shook. Neither act was really necessary but they were to her - she understood the potential value she might squeeze from male approval later.

Over and over Raven cycled until her body started to shudder with more than just exertion. The time she could brave the tugging on her nipples was reducing and with it her ability to win precious air. That lack of oxygen only seemed to fire other needs and sinking back this time pleasure started to pulse.

Up, up again. Gasp what she could then down, fully down. Her inner muscles squeezed an embrace around the fat intruder. It was almost automatic now. She wanted it to continue. Her display was no longer faked. She
needed
it to continue yet as her sex throbbed and her base desires welled, an unseen needle pressed an injection into her neck.

The sedative acted quickly. The thought crossed her mind that maybe they had already seen enough. Raven kicked once but didn’t kick again. Her legs were heavy, her arms leaden. Drifting back down onto the outsize cock she slipped into a drug-induced sleep. The life-giving mask was fixed securely to her face while the other man took up the slack from the chain to her nipples before leaving her impaled and submerged. A third man sipped champagne above the surface as he watched.