Slaver's Bait: The Taking of Cheryl by Lizbeth Dusseau

her fate.
    Tamara’s eyes flashed with anger. She pulled the whip from her belt and smacked Denise harshly across the legs. The whip stung, but Denise did not relent her refusal to cooperate in her own abuse. The old woman became enraged and began to whip Denise wildly. Denise’s movements pulled the chain free of the old lady’s grasp as she retreated from the blows. Tamara forced her into a corner and slashed her body unmercifully.
    When the old lady paused, Denise acknowledged her defeat. She sobbed miserably as she signaled her compliance with the woman’s demands. Warily, she moved herself over to the table and, placing her buttocks on the edge, rolled on to it. Sweat had broken on Tamara’s brow and she was out of breath. She stared at the girl fiercely and barked a command, indicating with her hand that Denise should lie on her stomach. Denise complied meekly, pressing her firm, tender breasts onto the tabletop, closing her eyes in fearful resignation.
    The old lady quickly secured Denise’s ankles to the corners of the table, spreading her legs widely. She unlocked her bracelets and affixed each wrist to a ring. The table was long and narrow, and Denise lay splayed across its surface. Anticipating the worst, she flinched when Tamara placed her hand on her head, stroking her hair.
    What happened next was wholly unexpected. Tamara cooed her into relative calmness, her deep, pleasant voice drowning out Denise’s sobs. The woman stepped back from Denise and took a large jar of cream from a drawer in the table. She moved to the table’s foot and began to apply the cream to Denise’s legs.
    The old woman sang as she used her strong hands to massage Denise’s legs. She seemed to know her physiology well, as she traced the edge of each muscle, isolating it, and sending strong pulses of relaxation to Denise’s body. The old lady merrily urged tender warmth into Denise’s legs and buttocks. The cream brought a slight burning sensation as it was applied, releasing all of the tension that the prone girl’s body held.
    At first, Denise thought the application of the salve to her skin was a prelude to some more sinister torment. But gradually, the rhythms of the old lady’s hands, the child like quality to her singing, induced Denise to allow the woman’s efforts to soothe her.
    The back was next and Tamara seemed to know the outline of each vertebra, the delineations of each tendon and muscle. Denise moaned in pleasure as the firm hands exercised her back. She drifted into a becalmed state, belying her terror of minutes ago. The neck and shoulders were next and Tamara applied gentle, but firm pressure there, comforting the naked prisoner. Even the temples of her head were massaged, causing Denise to moan softly.
    When she had finished massaging Denise’s back and the back of her thighs and calves, Tamara released Denise’s hands from the rings. She gently, but firmly, coaxed Denise to move her right hand to her left and fastened it in place. She then moved to the foot of the table and, releasing her ankles, urged the girl to roll over so that her front could be ministered to. Denise lay on her back and docilely allowed the woman to recapture and imprison her remaining limbs.
    Tamara applied the same soothing energy to the front of Denise’s thighs and to her belly. She moved to her shoulders and the tendons that ran under her arms. She massaged the under side of Denise’s arms and even her hands and feet. By the time that the old lady finished with Denise’s feet, the young woman was in a semi-comatose state. Her body tingled with relaxed sensation, but her mind was adrift on a mild, gently rocking ocean.
    Denise felt the old lady’s hands climb her legs, stroking them softly. She caressed the inside of Denise’s thighs, gently rubbing up against the protective lips of her sex. A small tingle of pleasure coursed through Denise at the seemingly accidental touch. The strong hands pushed up her belly, encircled