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  • Dove's Tale Ch. 07

Dove's Tale Ch. 07

The comments about Ch. 6 were almost entirely negative, and I don't blame people for not liking how that chapter unfolded-I didn't like it either. I actually re-wrote it three separate times, but each time it ended the same way. I really thought that was the end, and it bothered me-I didn't want Phyllis' story to finish that way.

Suddenly, just last night, inspiration hit, and I blazed through this chapter with no effort at all.

I make this pledge-there will be no more 'dream sequences' ever in this story!

*****

PHYLLIS jerked awake with a mild curse, then swore louder as her head thumped against the concrete wall.

'Son of a fucking bitch!' she snarled, slumping down on the thin mat and touching the back of her head gingerly. In the little rooms Alexander called the black cells, there were no blankets or pillows, just a narrow pad to sleep on. Phyllis couldn't sleep flat on her back or stomach, and without a pillow sleeping on her side gave her a sore neck.

So she'd gotten into the habit of falling asleep propped partway up in a corner, and waking up suddenly had caused her to smack her head.

She rubbed her fingers against her cheek, trying to determine if they felt slick. The cell was pitch black, so she couldn't see if there was any blood, but her hand felt dry.

She took a couple deep, slow breaths. 'Fuucckk,' she said softly.

Ever since the bastard had brutally whipped Rogue, she'd been having vivid, intense dreams. She liked the one where she cut him up and bit off his dick-hell she even day-dreamed that one when she was awake.

But there were too many nightmares-nightmares in which it was her, not Rogue tied between two poles while the bastard tore up her body with a brutal whip, or nightmares of being back at that horrible brothel.

And for the three or four days she'd been in the black cell, the worst nightmare of all-the one where she was thrilled to see him, eager to be used by him, the willing, enthusiastic sex slave he wanted her to become.

It was strange. Her time in the darkness had made her more determined than ever to keep resisting him any way she could when she was awake, while at the same time bringing on these nightmares of total submission when she slept.

'That's why they feel like nightmares,' Phyllis thought as she rubbed her face sleepily. 'It's your brain trying to deal with your worst fear.'

She felt her way along the wall to the toilet, peed, and sat back down on the mat, leaning her back against the wall. There was nothing else to do. The lights went on twice a day, when she was fed, and once a day Barry took her out to shower and brush her teeth. The other twenty-two hours a day, all she could do was sit and wait, pace, maybe do a few pushups...

And think about what she was going to do-how she was going to act-when he finally let her out.

She'd given up trying to figure out Alexander. Either he was nuts, or being unpredictable on purpose to keep her and the other girls off-balance. Either way, there was no guessing how he was going to react to anything anymore.

She should have gotten far worse than poor Rogue. Instead, he'd just chucked her into the dark and left her alone. Phyllis figured he thought it would be a horrible punishment-to be alone and bored for endless hours in the silent darkness.

It was backfiring. Alone in the dark, Phyllis could feel her strength and determination coming back. She had endured so much, been put through so much hell, and she was still here, still going, still herself.

She felt like she'd won.

She knew the bastard couldn't figure out how to deal with her. His plan had fallen apart, and his attempts to improvise had failed. Yes, she obeyed him out of fear, but he wanted so much more and she would *not* give it to him.

Her last day 'in the light' had actually started out pretty easy. She hadn't had to endure Alexander's presence until nearly noon, after breakfast and a long, tough workout supervised by the stone faced Barry.

A quick shower and Barry dismissed the other girls, leading Phyllis to one of the playrooms. She stood, naked and passive, while he put her in restraints-cuffs on her wrists and ankles, all connected by light chains. When he was finished, she couldn't raise her hands higher than her waist, or move her feet more than a foot apart.

Alexander entered and looked at her for a long time while she just stared at the floor, fighting to not show the anger and hatred in her heart.

'Dove,' he said at last, and she lifted her head slowly.

His expression grim, her captor reached into his jacket pocket and held up her little knife.

He didn't say a word as she stood there, chained and helpless, staring at the tiny knife she assumed sealed her fate.

Alexander thought she would break down, cry and plead and beg for mercy, but she confounded him again. As the realization he had found her weapon sank in, Phyllis felt light-headed, almost giddy. She was filled with the freedom of having nothing more to lose.

She finally looked him square in the eyes, her expression fearless and defiant. It was over, and the thought filled her with a bizarre sort of relief.

'Do you even want to try and explain why this was in your room?'

'I thought I'd take up whittling,' she quipped, and oh god it felt good-so FUCKING good-to not have to kiss his worthless ass anymore she almost laughed.

His eyes narrowed. 'You're in enough trouble without the stupid jokes.'

'All right, I'll skip the jokes.'

Phyllis couldn't keep the smile off her face as slowly and deliberately, she said the words she'd been aching to say to him since he'd brought her back from Russia.

'Fuck...you.'

Alexander's face twisted with anger. He closed the distance between them with two quick steps and grabbed a handful of her hair. Yanking her head to the side, he pressed the sharp little blade against the side of her neck.

'This is plenty big to cut your throat, bitch,' he growled.

Phyllis felt the steel against her skin. What she didn't feel was fear.

'It woulda been more than big enough to cut off your tiny little dick,' she scoffed.

He leaned back and slapped her brutally, the blow splitting her lip open and rocking her head.

'Asshole,' she managed to gasp. He had hit her hard enough that she saw stars.

He gave her hair another yank, bringing them nose to nose. 'I will...'

'You won't do shit,' Phyllis spat, interrupting him. 'You can't afford to.'

'Don't...' he started again, and again she spoke over him.

'Your ego can't handle it. How are you gonna explain to your scumbag friends that you had to get rid of two slaves in just a few days because you couldn't control them?'

He looked at her and smirked. 'Maybe you're right. All the worse for you, little Dove. I'm going to break you.'

'Puh-leeze!' she scoffed. 'You've been trying to break me for months, and so far you haven't done shit.'

Phyllis looked at her captor, contempt in her eyes. 'Face it, Dickless,' she mocked. 'You're not just a worthless, raping piece of shit-you suck at it.'

Her bloody lips curled in a smile. 'So again. Fuck you.'

Alexander flung the knife across the room and stomped out. Phyllis laughed, savoring her moment of triumph until Barry came to carry her to the cell.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

ALEXANDER set his phone down on his desk, even though what he really wanted to do was throw it against the wall, and continued pacing round his office.

Damn it. More bad news on top of bad news. It was getting to the point where he dreaded answering his phone.

His business empire had suffered setback after setback. His political maneuverings-in Russia, Eastern Europe, and the US-had been stymied again and again. He had lost millions directly in the last month, and lost the opportunity to make millions more.

Some of it was his own fault and some the fault of circumstances, but it was all frustrating.

That frustration, he knew, was the reason he had fucked up so badly dealing with Rogue. It was a minor offense, deserving a sound paddling at worst. Instead, he had over-reacted absurdly, and it had cost him both one of his favorite slave girls and his best weapon against Dove.

She drove him nuts. The recipe for training a girl was simple. Make her scared, make her dependent on you, punish unacceptable behavior harshly and reward good behavior lavishly. Once you became her only source of pleasure and comfort, she would begin to adore and worship you.

It was foolproof. It never failed. Until now.

'Fuck it,' he thought. 'We start again. Forget what's worked in the past-you have to figure out what will work with her.'

He nodded to himself, just as his computer beeped, warning him of a new priority message, and his phone rang at the same time.

'More bad news,' he sighed, and glumly went back to work.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

HIS PLAN was keyed on keeping her off-balance and always unsure of what was going to happen.

He walked with his arm around Trouble, his hand idly fondling the blond girl's pert ass, leading her to a bedroom.

'Dove will be there, pet, but don't worry about her. Don't acknowledge her in any way. In fact, don't say a word.'

He looked down at the girl and smiled. 'Make all the noise you want-just no words. Understand?'

'Yes Master,' she purred.

Phyllis was bound on the bed, gagged and blindfolded. She made muffled, snarling noises when she heard sounds in the room, but Alexander didn't worry about that, and Trouble had been ordered to ignore her sister, so she did.

Alexander bent the naked girl over the bed, her face close to Dove, and played with her until she was gasping and whimpering with need. Then he took her from behind, slowly and leisurely, wringing two powerful climaxes from his slave girl before blowing his load deep inside her.

And all during the scene, Phyllis was forced to helplessly listen to the sounds of their fucking, to Trouble's moans and squeals of delight, to all the noises of pleasure.

Alexander left her there for another half hour before sending Barry to take her back to her cell.

The next day, he had her bound standing, her hands high over her head, her ankles locked in a three foot spreader bar, gagged and blindfolded again.

She knew-she just knew-that that hated smirk was on his face as he fondled her. She could hear it in his voice.

She really was lovely, Alexander thought as he amused himself with her body. Oh, she needed to gain a few pounds, but that would come later. For now, it was important to leave her just a little bit hungry.

'You can deny the truth all you want, little Dove,' he murmured as his hand stroked her naked body, 'but the reality is all of this-all of you-belongs to me.'

He tugged and pinched her nipples into unwilling hardness with surprising gentleness, reinforcing the lesson verbally all the while.

'Your pleasure-your pain-your comfort or your punishment-is all up to me.'

With a soft leather paddle, he tapped her ass, slowly warming up the luscious, firm cheeks until they turned a light pink.

'If I chose to, I could make this very painful. But for now, I'm just enjoying the way your buttocks jiggle.'

Phyllis snarled and growled incoherently behind her gag, yanking furiously but uselessly at her cuffs as the paddle beat a gentle tattoo on her behind.

Alexander chuckled, rubbing her ass firmly with the paddle. 'You will learn-you've already learned, you just won't admit it-that your will, your desires, don't matter.'

He gave her a few more gentle smacks, than slipped his other hand between her spread legs, stroking her soft as a feather.

'When you finally do stop fighting-and you will-ahhhh pet, then you will receive pleasure and fulfillment beyond your wildest dreams.'

He paused and frowned, watching her. She had stopped trying to yell, and was repeating the same two syllables over and over, all the while jerking her head up towards the ceiling.

Finally, he took the hint and looked up. His jaw clenched in anger when he saw she had both middle fingers stuck in the air.

'Close your hands, Dove,' he said, his voice quiet and thick with menace.

She shouted something, and instead wiggled her hands, emphasizing the defiant gesture.

He traded the leather paddle for hard, unyielding wood. 'You always have to push me. This could have been painless.'

The paddle cracked across her ass viciously. 'Close your hands now!' he ordered firmly.

She shrieked into her gag, her body jerking against her bonds, and did put her fingers down for a moment...

Only to put them right back up-then down, then up-flipping him off again and again.

Twice more the paddle landed, the sound of the blows filling the room.

'Last chance, slave girl. Put those fingers down or I will make certain you can't put them up.'

Tears trickled from beneath her blindfold, and her body shook with pain. Unable to see, she turned her head in his general direction, and tilted her chin up again.

Almost in disbelief, he looked up, to see her slowly raise her middle fingers yet again.

Three more times he swung the paddle, turning her buttocks from pink to bright, flaming red-and still she held her fingers up.

'Stupid bitch,' he snarled. 'Fine. You want to push me? I can push back harder.'

Phyllis screamed her fury and disgust, until she felt the sting of a hypodermic needle. Her hands went limp as she lapsed into unconsciousness.

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