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you? You want a cock
in every hole, don't you? You want to fuck Miguel, or Frank, or Linus (or
whichever one of his friends he knew he would be seeing in the next few days).
You want a dildo in your pussy and a butt plug up your ass while we go to
dinner tomorrow night, don't you? You'd like to be fucked with a beer bottle,
wouldn't you, you dirty little slut?  You want to be tied up and fucked with
(insert his object of choice here)?
         Then Victor would make it happen,
using her orgasmic agreements as consent even if she balked at the idea later.
Then he started with the games. He'd attach dildos to furniture, walls, and the
seat of the car, windows, or any other place he could think of, and made her
fuck them while he rubbed her off. Oftentimes in front of other men. Or he'd
drop a bunch of dildos on the floor and tell her to pick them up with her pussy
or ass and bring them to him. She could use her hands to position them and get
them inserted, and she could suck on them to make them wet enough to get them
in, but she had to crawl, with the dildos inside her, to him and have him
remove them. He usually did after first fucking her vigorously with each one. 
         After enduring months of this, she
felt like nothing more than Victor's fuck-toy. There was no love there. Only
lust and her body was little more than entertainment for him. His rule was she
had to be penetrated and brought to orgasm at least once a day. It was his duty
as her Dom to make sure this happened and her duty as his submissive to do what
pleased him. It was Misha, one of the house slaves, who finally convinced Laura
that she was just a glorified house slave who didn't get boxed up when the
chores weren't done right. She escaped the harsh beatings they got. But she was
used sexually more often.  It's when his sadism went too far that she realized
just how selfish he was and that Victor loved no one but himself. After that
realization, his lovemaking lost its appeal and became arduous torture.
         It was the night he tied her to the
dinner table and used her body as a serving platter for twenty dinner guests,
men and women, that she finally realized she had to get away from him. But it
was the night she watched him murder a man that she found the courage to
actually do it.
         A swell of emotion filled her. She
hated the memories. Closing her eyes she tried to wipe the humiliating and
terrifying memories away. His hand on her shoulder made her jump.
         "Sorry, Kal, didn't mean to
scare you. I woke up and you weren't in bed. You okay?" Brad pulled her to
him and kissed the top of her head.
         "You scared the crap out of
me," she said, her heart still pounding in her chest. She clutched at his
strong arm and relaxed against him. "My throat was dry. I got up for some
water."
         She gently pushed away from him and
got the water. He watched her drink two glassfuls before pulling her to him
again.
         "It's three in the morning.
Come back to bed." He kissed her head again, coaxed her to leave the
glass, and then led her back to bed keeping a protective arm around her.
         When they reached the bedroom he
climbed into bed first and she followed, snuggling against him. It couldn't be
real, could it? She had loved Victor once, too. Had thought he was a good man
who would never hurt her. Of course Victor's kisses were fake, and in the
beginning when he pissed her off he tried to buy her affections with jewelry or
clothes. Sadly, she would forgive him, naively thinking he spent money on her
because he loved her. Now she knew Victor only bought her things to lull her
into a false sense of affection so he could get her to do whatever he wanted.
         But Brad, he wasn’t like that. When
he pissed her off, which he’d done, he actually apologized and seemed genuinely
sorry. Brad also didn’t try to buy her affections with clothing or jewelry. If
anything, he seemed to shy away from buying her more than