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Susanne was in front wearing the black skin suit, her smile fading to sadness while bright red oozed down the front of her costume from a hole in her protruding left breast.
     

 
    CHAPTER II
     
    Tombstone woke in a fog, stretching out and taking several minutes to shake off the chaotic world of his dreams.   By the time he had finished half a cup of coffee, Jerald Fry was completely forgotten.
    Claudine heard the latches to the coffin being opened and she sobbed in relief.   During the long silent hours of darkness, the terror had numbed her into exhaustion and some of his warnings enveloped her mind.   He would not kill her.   The man would not bury her, if she did as he ordered.   Claudine could do this for a while.   Obviously, Donald had made an agreement that this degenerate man could abuse her in exchange for holding her captive.   However long this lesson was going to be, and whatever depraved thing this man asked of her… she could do for a while.   She could follow his demands, until the opportunity to escape arose.   She could not do this, if she was buried under the soft dirt next to Donnie.
    When she stared at the man, she tried to plead with her eyes.   She forced herself to stop quivering and lie still, trying to let him know she would obey him.   Her bladder had let go and her arms and feet rested on the soggy silk padding.   Claudine tried to control her anger.   The man had not considered that after the long funeral she might need to use the toilet.   Fuck you.   Now you’ll have the mess to clean up.   Her strong will continued to try to calm her nerves and control the situation, because Claudine had never been so frightened in her life.   Instinctively she knew that her flirtatious manner and beautiful looks would not sway this man.
    Tombstone stroked her cheek, absorbing her quivers and the fear in her eyes.   His other hand raised and Claudine saw that he was holding a shining blue collar.   She trembled when he locked it around her throat, but made no protest.   If he’s putting a collar on me, he must be intending to let me up out of the casket.   Her strained muscles screamed when he rolled her onto her side and removed the manacles.   She rubbed her chafed wrists and slowly straightened her cramped legs.   God, how they ached.
    The man walked out of sight for a moment, and she heard a metal scraping as a chain attached to a pipe near the ceiling was dragged over to her.   The man fished a sturdy lock out of his pocket and he attached the bottom link to a ring in the front of the collar.   Claudine kept staring at him, knowing the pleading was doing no good, but doing it anyway.
    Strong hands reached under her shoulders, lifting her so she was sitting in the coffin.   Claudine studied the room around her.   It was big, like an open loft, with a kitchen and seating area by a fireplace.   A small cot was against the wall in the corner, and a bathroom with no walls was across from her.   A spiral staircase disappeared into the ceiling, close to where the cot sat.   There was an archway leading to another room beside the kitchen, and the entire structure was made of old dark wood and stone.
    The man began lifting her again and Claudine scrambled to get her legs underneath her.   He dragged her over the side of the coffin, and she was relieved to finally be out of the box.   She had already decided that she would do anything he wanted, to keep from being sealed in the darkness again.
    “Go use the toilet, strip, and then stand under the shower,” he ordered.
    Claudine’s legs were still strained and aching, but she turned and shuffled towards the stone alcove.   The chain was heavy and tugged at the collar as it slid along a pipe.   She realized, by the length of it, she would only be able to walk on this side of the room.   Tombstone scrutinized her stiff movements, rubbing his cock while he watched her bottom.   With muscles that strained so quickly, the frozen