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The Queen of Sorrow's Falls
Chapter Two: The First
Barely three weeks after escaping from life as a sex slave, Michelle Von Houten was gaining a rudimentary grasp on the damage she had received over the past four-and-a-half years, tainted by the new experiences and seemingly eternal punishment. A world she never new existed now sprawled in front of her, the internet acting as both learning tool and outlet. However, a simple computer would not keep her satisfied forever, and already her sexual fantasies were spilling out of her private life and into her every thought. As she strolled through the streets of Serenity Falls, night after night, alone in the world, unshakeable fantasies of domination muddling her perceptions.
Michelle watched as a Policewoman ticketed a car for an expired meter, and fantasized about her screaming from inside a dog cage, a leash signaling that she no longer held any power over her own life.
Michelle sized up a man in a business suit yelling into his cell phone over a business deal gone bad, and envisioned him dangling from the ceiling by his wrists, naked, welts covering his back.
Michelle spied on a mother with her grown daughter dining at a streetside café, and smirked as thoughts of tear filled incest flood her mind.
Two things that once repulsed Michelle now dominated her thoughts. The years of bondage and bisexualism were the closest thing to hell on Earth she had ever experienced, but those experiences had seared and twisted her mind. The horrors consumed her soul, but instead of fleeing the nightmares, she embraced them.
Her former nightmares would soon become the nightmares of her victims. All that was needed was one final spark to flare Michelle's lust beyond her ability or desire to keep it restrained...
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Months dragged on, and day by day Michelle secluded herself into her role as a reclusive millionaire. Things had changed in the last five years, both in Michelle and in the world around her. The few friends she had in High School had long since embarked across the country, and Michelle was in no way compelled to see the few acquaintances that remained.
Instead, Michelle sat at her computer, right next to her bed, completely enthralled by the world of BDSM. With no financial limits binding her actions, Michelle recklessly fulfilled her impulses. Her collection of videos and mail-order toys grew by the hour, but masturbation was losing its flair, and Michelle thought she would need more if her desires were to ever be sated. Unfortunately, satiation was not a possibility for Michelle, already condemned to a broken life of chasing a moving target.
The internet did not offer Michelle the opportunities that she wanted. The few partners she discovered through BDSM sites were scared by Michelle's serious wish for permanent slave, and none returned her follow-up offers. Jilted, Michelle retreated back into her life of wealthy isolation as Serenity Fall’s richest resident.
Speculation around town grew rampant about the return of Von Houten heiress, as the Von Houten name still adorned many local businesses, her parents still remembered by many of the townsfolk. Michelle's sporadic forays off of her estate and into town drew long glares that did not go unnoticed, but she went along with her business and returned home, never making substantial contact with the townsfolk.
Michelle wanted it that way. She had already decided she would rather live in her fantasy land of BDSM rather than spend time building emotional connections with friends and lovers. Unfortunately, no woman is an island, and Michelle would soon be dragged out of the isolated life she clung to with the last remnants of her soul.
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In late April, Michelle received a phone call, her first one in weeks.
"Hello, Miss Von Houten? I'm a reporter with Serenity High School Junior Bee, and I'm working on a piece about the wealthiest people in Serenity Falls. Would you be free for an interview?"
Michelle sat in silence for a moment, wondering if she wanted to put up with a High School girl. Michelle hated High School students. Memories of SHS still pissed off Michelle, but she also feared that too much isolation would just draw more attention. She agreed to the interview. Jodie Klint would be at Michelle's home Saturday morning at eleven for the interview.
Saturday came, and Jodie was punctual. Michelle looked over the 5’4” girl and thought she might like be likeable, as she lacked most of the usual indicators of High School level insipidness. Everything about her was nice, but not the type of perfection that was often fueled by the insecurities and condescendence that dominated most teenage girls’ thoughts. Her red hair was curly, but naturally so. Her clothing was clean, but obviously hand-me-downs, the tight sweatshirt showing a band that had been popular when Michelle was a student. She wore tight jeans, faded naturally from age. Michelle led Jodie to the front room, where Michelle had made sure was clean absolutely clean of the sex toys that had been used in every corner and crevice of the house.
"So, Miss Klint, what do you want to know about me?" Michelle asked, trying to sound as calm and sane as possible.
"According to my parents, you left the country five years ago after the death of your parents, and only returned for the funeral of Jane and Eric Tolsin, yet you never left afterwards. Why is that?" Michelle closed her eyes and tried to suppress the painful memories of her time as the Tolsin's sex slave.
"I saw all that I needed to see. All I want now is to live a peaceful life alone." It was a half truth. She wanted a peaceful life, surrounded by her own slaves to fuck and torture.
"But why Serenity Falls, if you are just going to shut yourself in?" A good question. It made Michelle expect that this girl wasn't nearly as naive as she looked.
“I rather like this home. There is a lot to love here, being the place I grew up.” She refrained from mentioning the quickly expanding sub-basement dungeon.
The interview continued with Jodie continuing to make slightly prying questions, Michelle answering each in the most flat and innocuous way imaginable. Two hours later, they parted, Michelle satisfied that she had sated public curiosity into her life.
It came as much of a surprise the following week when a copy of Jodie’s school newspaper appeared in Michelle’s mailbox. She looked through it and found, rather than the interview, a rather scathing piece entitled The Decadent Wealth of Serenity Falls. Line after line, Michelle’s jaw dropped at the callous way in which she was depicted. Jodie had pulled no punches in scoring cheap points against the town’s wealthiest heiress. Michelle had little idea what would motivate her to be so aggressive, but the more she thought about it, the less it mattered; she would have revenge. Where most women in their mid-twenties would shirk off the passing insults of an overambitious teenage, Michelle was different, for she was still the same teenage cheerleader that disappeared as a sex slave five years ago, but corrupted by the betrayal and torment. Now, she burned only with hatred for the maliciously offensive reporter, much like the hatred that consumed her soul for the last people to betray her.
The hatred turned to glee when Michelle realized that the young Jodie Klint would make a great starter slave. None of Michelle’s other leads turned to fruition, but for the first time since escaping the Tolsin’s grasp, Michelle had the target and means to truly own another human life.
Michelle began to prepare the dungeon immediately for its first occupant. She tested the bars, eyebolts, leashes, chains, and locks that decorated the hidden sub-basement, and organized them for the imminent use. After a few days of preparation, Michelle was ready for the capture.
Finding an opportunity for the abduction proved easier that Michelle could imagine. While Jodie’s mother granted her use of their cars for work purposes, they still forced her to walk to school, a journey that took her through the woods, across genuine wilderness and an infrequently used trail. Michelle scouted the girl’s route for two weeks, observing her through high-power binoculars from a forest preserve parking lot, before she determined the exact means of capturing her first slave.
The plan was simple. Hold the girl at gunpoint, inject her with sedatives, throw her in the backseat of the car, and drive two miles to her mansion.
The execution went as well as any first-time kidnapper could hope. Michelle stepped out from behind the tree and faced the backpacked Jodie Klint and pointed her pistol straight at the girl’s chest.
“Mm… Miss Von Houten? What are you doing?” The girl stood perfectly still, save for the fearful trembles that shook her body.
“You shouldn’t have crossed me, you stupid little girl. What would possibly compel you to write such a nasty piece about me?”
“I… it was just grandstanding. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Now you say that. Come with me. Run and I shoot.” Michelle stepped to the side of the trail and pointed Jodie along the way. The girl walked along the trail at a slow, methodical pace. Michelle followed.
When they neared the preserve’s parking lot, Michelle jabbed Jodie in the neck with a needle and squeezed the plunger, injecting her with a sedative cocktail. Within seconds she collapsed to the ground. Michelle threw one of the girl’s arms across her neck and dragged her victim to the car, opened the door, and threw her in. She dug through the backpack, found the girl’s pink cellphone, opened it up, and moved the battery into her pocket, disabling any potential GPS in the phone.
Michelle was thankful that she passed no cars or stoplights on her way to or from the preserve; there would be very little evidence for the police to follow, even if they could deduce the place of her abduction, or if she was abducted at all. Michelle knew that teenagers frequently went missing of their own accord, and that stat-obsessed police were more than willing to label such as runaways rather than abductees. Either way, she was confident that she would not be caught.
Michelle parked in the middle of her three-car garage and dragged the still-unconscious victim down into the dungeon and hastily stripped and redressed both herself and the girl. On Jodie, Michelle placed a braless black leather corset, a thick black double arm sleeve, a black dog collar, and two thigh high black boots, which she linked together with a short chain. On herself, she out on a similar red corset, except with some bra support which still left her nipples exposed. Likewise, she wore thigh-high red leather boots, and sleek red gloves that extended to her upper arm. Lastly, she dumped onto the floor a box, filled with just some of the toys she had accumulated over the last five months.
The picture was complete, and Michelle was filled with a sense of satisfaction for a brief moment as she looked over her prey. The sense of satisfaction soon dissipated, however, leaving Michelle with nothing but her insatiable need for domination. She walked over to the captive reporter and pressed her heel against the woman’s clit. The girl stirred awake.
“Wake up, Jodie,” commanded Michelle. “You have to start working off your sins.”
The girl sighed and wriggled on the floor. Michelle pressed in harder, and Jodie’s body contorted on the floor.
The captive looked around frantically, realizing that her arms and legs were bound together. “Wh… what do you want from me?”
“I said you have to start paying me back for that insipid little article you wrote. Now, get on your knees, my pet.” Michelle reached down and grabbed Jodie’s hair.
“Owww!” yelled Jodie, as she struggled against her captor.
Michelle pulled harder. “You will learn to do as I ask, girl.”
“Let go of me!”
“This is your last warning.”
“Help! Somebody, help me!”
Michelle sighed and let go of the girl’s hair, allowing her to fall back down to the concrete floor with a thud. “Fine, if you ask for it.” Michelle turned the girl onto her back and sat on her chest, with one knee to each side. She could feel the smooth leather of the slave’s corset against her shaved pussy.
“I told you things would be easier if you just did what I asked,” said Michelle while she picked up toys from the dungeon floor. “You’ll pay me back for your crime, willing or not.” She attached weighted clamps to the girl’s nipples, making them sway to her sides.
“Ahhhhh!”
“Haha, please, scream all you want. There is nobody to hear you.”
“Please, I’m sorry for what I did, just let me go and I’ll write an apology, I swear!”
“It is too late for that.” Michelle continued to abuse the girl by grabbing a slim pink dildo and ramming it into the girl’s cunt, tearing through her hymen and producing blood.
Jodie’s body jerked in pain, but her body stayed in place due to Michelle’s weight. “No.. not like this, please, stop.” For the first time since her capture, Jodie Klint cried.
Michelle ignored the tears and continued to slide the dildo in and out of her slave’s body, turned on by the girl’s wails of misery.
“Are you willing to do what I ask?”
“Ye… yes.”
“Good.” Michelle reached and grabbed a leash from the floor and fastened it to Jodie’s collar. “Come, girl.” She pulled Jodie up onto her knees and led her across the dungeon to the far wall. There rested a high-backed chair with leather cushions on the seat, back, and armrests. She sat and turned toward her slave, who was making slow progress sliding along on her knees.
“Now, my pet, lick me,” commanded Michelle. She tugged on the leash.
Jodie did not have a choice. Fearing even worse retribution than was visited on her earlier, she leaned in, on her knees, and lapped at Michelle’s shaved pussy. She was The Queen’s first subject, but she would be far from the last.
Copyright 2008, Razor7826
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