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wasn’t
hurt.
         She clutched at him,
still sobbing.
         Something had triggered
the reaction and he intended to find out what. Picking her up, he carried her
up the stairs to the bedroom and gently set her on the bed. “It’s okay,” he
assured her.
         It took about fifteen
minutes before she was calm enough to speak.
         He gave her a glass of
water. “So tell me what happened.”
         “I just felt
claustrophobic,” she said, now sitting on the edge of the bed.
         “I’ll be careful not to
leave you alone down there again.” He brushed a strand of auburn hair off of
her cheek. “How about you get cleaned up and dressed. Dinner should be here
soon. Italian?”
         She nodded. “Okay.”
         He got up and went into
the kitchen. She had mentioned that she was claustrophobic when they first
started and he had seen claustrophobic subs react similarly to rope bondage.
But somewhere deep down he had a nagging feeling. It was the same kind of
feeling he had when he was in Iraq in one of many situations under threat of
ambush. On the battle field, when something didn’t feel right, you listened to
those instincts and proceeded with caution. That’s what he had to do now —
proceed with caution.  
        
        
      

     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter
Three
     
         She hadn't had the nightmare in
over two years. Now it was back. She woke up with sweat drenching her nude
body. Brad didn't even shift next to her. He must have been exhausted after her
breakdown earlier.  Slipping quietly out of bed she made her way into the
kitchen for a glass of water. It was no wonder the dreams were coming back. It
was the first time she'd had a Dom since Victor, though Brad was nothing like
Victor - not even by a long shot.
         Detail after horrifying detail of
the night Victor branded and tattooed her and then gave her to his cronies to
play with, played slowly through her mind as if it was happening all over
again.  It was a Saturday like any other and she was in the house putting
together dinner. Back then Victor used to locked up all her shoes when he
wasn't home and there were armed guards all over the property so there was no
way she could run. Of course in the beginning she never even considered
running, nor did she understand why he locked up her shoes. On that day, the house
slaves had been boxed in the garage for the day because they were being
punished for not ironing Victor's shirts to his liking. One of those house
slaves was Kali’s best friend, Misha.  She remembered being afraid for Misha’s
safety because it was hot that week.
         Victor had been cranky that entire
week because the authorities had been nosing around one of his import
operations. Being that it wasn't legal, Victor had every reason to be
concerned. Of course nothing Victor did was legal.
         He arrived home that night with
four of his henchmen and another man she didn't know. Toward the end there he
frequently called her Kúrva and Súka which she soon learned were
the Russian equivalents to whore and bitch respectively. During dinner she sat
nude on the floor next to Victor at the table, propped up on her knees,
awaiting Victor's every instruction. She was use to him parading her nude in
front of his friends, and forcibly bringing her to orgasm, his fingers
skillfully working her clit until she couldn't hold back, in front of everyone
in the room. Sometimes she even enjoyed the humiliation. Victor had been, in
the beginning, a fantastic lover and an incredible Dom.
         That night after she'd cleared the
table and cleaned the kitchen, she was called into the living room.
         He called her Laura, but it sounded
more like Lara through his thick Russian accent.  Now, just thinking of how he
said her name made her cringe.
         Holding a glass of Stoli elit vodka, his favorite, aloft in one hand he patted the coffee table in front of
him. "Laura, come here