Then I started arranging the various pieces of equipment I'd gotten for Day 4 - Torture Chamber. A rather mundane looking braided leather belt was first out of the shopping bag, followed by a more sinister looking (and more expensive) leather cat o' nine tails, a nice wooden yardstick, a collapsible metal map pointer, a nice shiny stainless steel box cutter with a chrome handle, three police issue nightsticks, and a couple of very fat red and black candles.

I heard a sharp little gasp behind me. Then: "Um... Damien," I heard her say (my back was to her), "wuh... what are you... what are those for?"

There was a tiny note of desperation in her voice, but Ali had good vocal control. I turned, with a friendly, even loving smile, on my face. I picked up the box cutter and toyed with it, pushing the button on the side to make the blade protrude from the stainless steel handle, then letting it slide back inside again.

"Nice," I said. "I'm sorry, what?" I looked at her. "Oh," I said, as if realizing something, and nodded. "That's sweet of you, Ali. Nice role-playing. That will make it more fun." I put down the box cutter and picked up the braided leather belt and letting it hang casually from my hand, I walked back over to her.

She was staring at it in a mixture of terror and horror. She looked up at me as I sat down on the bed next to her again. She started to say something and I leaned down and kissed her again, this time kissing her more deeply, curious as to how she'd respond.

She stiffened under me for just a second, and I could almost read her mind, as her thoughts and instincts quickly decided she'd get more cooperation from me if she gave some back. Then she moaned a bit under me and her tongue came up to meet mine. She kissed me back for a good thirty seconds or so, and then I straightened up again. "Well," I said, "good morning again. I see we're finally awake? Really awake? Ready to get started?"

She looked at me, trying to look shy. "Um... g'morning... um, Damien, sure, fine, wonderful... can you untie me, please? I'm... a little stiff..."

I smiled at her. "Sure thing, darling." I made no move to untie her, though, just sat there smiling at her.

She waited ten seconds or so, and then, with a little more strain in her voice, said, "Damien... please? It hurts..."

I looked at her. "Well, geez, Ali, it should, you know, given what you asked me to do to you today." I shook my head from side to side. "Still, it's a nice bit of role- playing. Keep it up. Beg a little. I think I'd like that." I winked at her and stood up with the belt in my hand.

"Damien... what..." She stared at me. "Oh my God! Please, PLEASE let me go! I'm not kidding!" She started writhing and struggling against her bonds, but she was completely helpless. I stood there, smiling at her.

Finally, she stopped, her eyes full of tears again. "Damien, please, I don't know what I said last night, but please, PLEASE, untie me! PLEASE! I... I was drunk last night! I... I'm married now! I..." Her eyes widened. "Oh my god. John... my husband will be worried sick..."

I sighed. "Don't be silly, Ali. You called him Friday night, when you first got up here, and told him you were taking a long weekend with an old college friend to celebrate your birthday."

Her eyes, if anything, went wider. "I... I did?"

I smiled. She had; GHB makes a person very responsive to suggestion. I hadn't heard her hubby John's response clearly, but judging from the tone of voice, and the loudness of his voice, coming over the cell phone she was holding, he hadn't taken the news well. "Sure, baby," I said. "Don't worry, everything is fine. You called in sick at work yesterday, too... told them not to expect you until they heard from you." I had listened to that call; her boss had been less than thrilled, and I suspected, when Ali didn't show up for another few days without another call, she'd find herself unemployed. But that was fine with me.

"Oh my God," she groaned. "Oh God, Damien, how drunk did I..." Her eyes focused on me. "You did this. You got me drunk! Goddam you, I'm not LIKE this any more..."

I patted her thigh, right in the crease between her upper leg and her lower stomach. "That's sweet of you, baby. You're making this even more fun than I thought it would be. Ready, now?" I lifted the doubled up belt in my hand and took careful aim.

"Damien don't you DARE, don't you DARE, I'll SCREAM..." Ali said, her eyes both furious and terrified now, as I brought the leather belt down across her lovely trim soft stomach with a crack.

She did scream; she screamed like I'd just set her on fire. I smiled, and lashed her again, this time across her sweet full pink nippled tits. Her scream went higher and shriller. I liked that, so I worked her tits with the braided leather for about ten lashes, welting them up nicely, and improving my aim to the point where my last three lashes were perfectly centered right across both her nipples.

I let her scream herself out, and then, when she finally took a breath again, before she could say anything, I started again. My next lash was across her pussy, from the side, a horizontal stroke across the mound. Her scream was soundless and breathless and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. I moved around to the foot of the bed and started to seriously lash her cunt, vertical strokes now, really whipping it good. It turned red and welted in a big hurry, and Ali nearly passed out from the shock, the pain, and from the fact that she couldn't seem to breath in, she was screaming so much.

I gave her a good ten lashes on her puffy cunt lips, then stopped, and waited for her to quiet down.

Finally, after a minute or so, her shrieks subsided to groans, moans, and sobs. I smiled at her. "Well, that was a nice start. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did." I went over, put the braided leather belt down, and picked up the wooden yard stick. "Let's warm you up a bit with this."

She was crying, quietly, and now she looked at me and said "You bastard. You prick. You piece of shit. Oh my god how can you do this to me? I never... oh GOD, Damien, please, please, please don't..."

I smiled and walked back over to her, flexing the wooden yardstick slightly in my hands. "You're sweet, Ali. It's really nice of you to role-play like this for me. I mean, I know you're really loving this, but I have to admit, you are making it even more exciting for me."

"GODDAMIT I'M NOT PLAYING!!" Ali screamed at me as I stood next to the bed. "Oh PLEASE don't do this..."

I frowned down at her. "You know, Ali, if I didn't know..." I paused. "Okay. If you're serious, then fine. Just use the 'safe' word and I'll untie you."

She drew in a long breath and stared at me through her tears. "Suh... safe word?" she said, and I relished the horror in her voice. "Oh my God. Oh no. Damien, I swear to you, I don't remember any 'safe' word, oh PLEASE..."

I shook my head. "You are a doll," I said. "You had me going there. Now, please, scream all you want."

"No no nooooo NOOOOOOO," she started screaming, as I moved up next to her.

I whacked her first, almost gently, on the inner thigh. It was just a mild little smack, and she hissed, but suddenly stopped screaming. She stared at me wildly... then I saw her take hold of her emotions again. "Dah Damien," she gasped, her voice under somewhat ragged control, "please stop for just a suh second. Puh please. I... nuh need a break. Plah... please just suh sit and tuh talk to me."

I pursed my lips thoughtfully. "Tell you what," I said, "I'll do that, but I'm going to hit you three more times first. You thank me for each one and then we'll sit and talk."

"Oh FUCK," she groaned. I lifted the yardstick and brought it down, hard this time, across her right nipple. "FUCCKKK!" she screamed. Then, a second later, "Sorry, sorry, thank you, thank you!"

"Good girl," I said approvingly, and cracked her another good one across her other nipple. The one I'd hit previously, already reddened from the whipping with the braided leather belt, was visibly swelling and bruising.

"Oh GAWWDDDDDD," she shrieked, followed by "thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"One more, then we'll talk," I said, watching as her other nipple began to swell and purple up as well. I smiled, aimed carefully, and brought the yardstick down again, this time across her cunt mound right where it was plumpest. Her scream would have broken glass if she hadn't already been hoarse and out of breath. As it was, it made me wonder if anyone in the well carpeted hall outside might actually hear something through the door, despite the excellent sound proofing.

It didn't matter; I'd tipped very generously and probably the entire hotel staff was aware, by now, of Ali's rather X rated 'birthday celebration' inside this suite. I hadn't been shy about letting room service people and maids inside the room for the last three days, since Ali was, to all observation, a very willing participant, and I knew the rumors getting around would only be additional humiliations for her later on. So even if the occasional remarkably loud or shrill scream leaked out, it shouldn't matter. By this time, anyone who'd hear it would be used to it.

After a couple of seconds, Ali looked up at me, took a deep, gulping breath, and whispered "thank you". So I put the yardstick down on the bed between her well secured legs, thought about it a second, and then pushed the end of it up her pussy. I noted, with an inward smile, that she was soaking wet, and fed a good eight inches of the yardstick up into her. She groaned as the flat length of wood pushed up into her, but didn't protest, probably intelligently realizing that if it was up her cunt, I couldn't be beating her with it. Of course, if she'd thought ahead, she'd have realized that that would mean I'd have to beat her with something else...

I went and sat next to her. Smiled and kissed her forehead lightly, then wiped the tears off her cheeks gently with a tissue from the bedside table. "Having fun, sweetie? I have to say, your screaming and role-playing and pretending to struggle and forget the safe word... that's hot, hon. You're really good at this."

She looked me pleadingly, earnestly, her lower lip trembling. "Please, Damien," she said, her voice obvious strained and rasping. "Please, please, please believe me... I... I don't remember... I don't know what we said last night, I must have been really drunk, but... please... I... I have to go... I..."

I just smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "You're so sweet," I said. "Honestly, this is just so convincing. But Ali, you weren't that drunk. I mean, you stayed pretty well oiled all weekend to keep you loose, yeah, but it's not like you were having a black out or anything."

"Damien, I swear, I don't remember..." She sobbed and looked at the stacks of pictures on the bedside table, then at the big screen TV screen over my shoulder, playing Ali's Greatest Hits from the last three days. On it, she had her hands tied behind her back while Erin shoved her head down into her pussy and Darian fucked her ass with an enormous black strap on. "I don't remember ANY of this," she said. "Please... I don't know... whatever we said last night, I don't... PLEASE, Damien..."

I frowned. "Sweetie... well, let's see. After the last guy and his dog left..." She gave a little whimper at that... "you went in, took a shower, came back out... we got in bed, talked a little, made love... it was pretty vanilla, but you said you were in the mood for that... we snuggled, fooled around, made love again... then we started talking about really pushing you to new places, and mutual fantasies, and started talking about torture and rape role-playing..."

"Oh God," she said. "Oh my God. Damien, I never... I mean..." She looked at me. "Please, I'm sorry, I guess, I must have... maybe..." She took a breath and swallowed. "Dah Damien. I... I'm sorry if I said that. I'm... I'm sure... I'm sure you only wanted to give me a... a nice... but... but I'm not like this any more and... if I teased you or led you on, I'm suh sorry but... please... I don't want to! Please let me go! Please, please, PLEASE let me GO!"

I shrugged. "Okay, hon. Say the safety word and I'll untie you. That's our deal."

She moaned in frustration. "I don't remember the goddam safety word! Goddamit! I'm not playing here!" She writhed and arched her back in her restraints. "PLEASE!"

I smiled. "Ali, you specifically made me promise that I wouldn't let you out, or stop hurting you, or using you however I pleased, no matter how mean or rough I was, or how much you begged, unless you said the safety word. You said you wanted to be able to get totally into it, to beg and scream and plead and cry, and totally submerse yourself in the fantasy."

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Oh my GOD." She started crying again, quietly. "Oh my gawwwwdddddd...."

I sighed. I opened the drawer in the bedside table and took out a piece of paper. "Ali, look." She opened her eyes and looked at me miserably. I held up the closely printed document. Pointed to the bottom. "You insisted I type this up and print it out for you to sign. I didn't want to, but you insisted we have our agreement for this rape and torture role-play down in writing, and signed, for my protection, in case anything went wrong, or someone called the cops, or something." She stared in horror at her signature at the bottom. I pointed to the line under it.

"We had the manager come in and notarize it."

That Ali had signed it was the truth; I'd put it in front of her and told her it was an insurance disclaimer form the hotel required for celebrations of this nature. She'd signed it without a second thought, but she'd been being flogged by one woman at the time while another was under her licking her pussy, so I don't think she was concentrating on it. The notary seal and signature were both the finest forgeries money could by. The document wouldn't stand up to extensive investigation, but it was just a prop, anyway.

Convincing Ali that she'd been a willing participant, and not drugged out of her right mind, was the essential first step in breaking her completely, and reducing her to the state of utter dehumanized degradation she so richly deserved.

"Oh," she squeaked, in a voice that was almost too quiet to be heard. "But... but..."

I sighed. "Now, Ali," I said, "I'm enjoying the fantasy, too, but you're starting to worry me. Maybe you're getting into this a little too much. I mean, let's face it... your cunt is like a river, and your nipples are as hard as I've ever seen them. So let's not try to fool anyone, here... you're loving this. Every second of it."

"No, no, no, no, no, noooooooo," she sobbed, whipping her head back and forth in denial on the pillow, tears running down her cheeks. "Nooooo no I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm a GOOD GIRL..."

"Whatever," I said, with a sigh. "When good girl wants to get out of here, good girl can cough up the safety word. Until then, good girl is getting the living shit tortured out of her."

I stood up and walked back over to the array of tools and toys and started examining them, let Ali see me make a show of trying to decide which to use next. She sobbed for a minute or so, and then, in her weary, strained voice, said, "Damien? Wuh... what are you guh going to do with the puh pictures and the... the video?"

"Hmmmm," I said, picking up the cat o' nine tails and holding it up to the light, not looking at her. "You might want to worry about what I'm going to do with this, instead," I said, my tone teasing. I reached down and hefted the fat black candle. "Or this, for that matter."

I turned to walk back to the bed, and saw her close her eyes and shudder in the restraints. Then she opened them again. "Damien," she said, very quietly, and with an admirable (if utterly false) calm in her voice, "puh please... tuh tell me what you're going to do with the puh pictures. Please."

I walked over and sat down next to her again, leaning down to kiss her eyebrow gently. I let the cat o' nine tails rest against her welted up belly, and put the candle down on the bed too. I started to caress her breasts as I kissed her forehead and cheeks. "Baby," I said, "the pictures are for you. The girls you were with on the first day all have their own websites, and they suggested you might start one too, because you're so pretty, and you said you liked the idea, so..."

"Oh my god," she whispered, squirming as I kissed her face. "Have you... have you puh posted any of them... on the Internet... yet?"

I straightened up and looked down at her. "Well, no, I've been a little busy, but if you want me to, I guess I could take a break and..."

"NO!" she gasped, and then, more quietly, said, "Please, Damien. Please. Um... please, if the pictures are for me, then... then just give them to me. Please?"

I shrugged. "Okay. Can't see why not. I emailed the whole thing to my home computer so we wouldn't have to worry about the lap top crashing, so I'll have a set for myself... so sure, you can have these." I smiled and kissed her, very lightly. "Maybe we should work your face a little next. I know you wanted to, but I said you were too pretty and it would be too visible... but your husband seemed okay with you spending a few days with me, so..."

"No!" she groaned. "Please don't! Please don't... work my face... please!" She made a tremendous effort and smiled up at me through her tears. "Puh please... let me stay pretty for you... Damien? Please?"

I shrugged. "Okay again." I stood up. "Now, what I was thinking was, I've beaten your tits and pussy enough for now. What do you think?"

"Oh, yes," she said, nodding frantically, looking pathetically grateful. "Oh, yes, please, Damien, please, just untie me..."

"Well, that's what I was thinking," I said. "Then I can retie you to the coffee table over by the couch, on your knees. Then I can start working on your back view." I smiled. "Sound okay to you?"

She closed her eyes and shuddered again. Then, in a very careful voice, she said, "Can... can I just be... untied for a while? Just a luh little while? I'll... I'll still let you... do whatever you want. Just... can I be loose for a little while?"

I looked at her surprised. "I thought you wanted a total captive scenario, Ali, where you would be tied down and tortured and used against your will and be completely helpless and have absolutely no choice. I thought that was the whole point."

She made an inarticulate sobbing sound, and then, very carefully said, "Yuh yes, Damien... and... and I love it... buh but... I... I... I thought... I could be... your suh sex slave, too... you know... and... and be loose... and duh do what you want."

I smiled at her. "Sure, sugar, if that's what you want." Ali thought she was being crafty, but she had no idea what was really going on here. Well, fine.

I untied her ankles first, and let her bend her legs and draw them up to her chest. I think she got her first idea then of just how stiff a night in bonds had left her, and how much strength even the minor physical abuse I'd already subjected her to had robbed her of. Her legs trembled as she tried to pull them up and I heard her groan. I ignored her, seemingly, as I was untying her wrists at the time.

When I had her loose, she grunted... then rolled over, got to her feet, and ran for the door.

At least, I'm sure that was her plan. What she actually did was try to roll away from me on the bed. She did manage the roll, although I'm sure she was shocked by how difficult it was and how slowly she moved. She got a further shock when instead of springing to her feet, she rolled off the bed on the far side and fell to the carpeted floor with a heavy thump.

I got up and strolled around the bed. Ali had, in the second or so it took me to do that, managed to struggle up onto her elbows and one knee. She looked up at me, tears running down her cheeks, breathing as hard as if she'd just won the decathalon... and wailed in misery and despair. "Oh my GOD," she groaned. "I can't muh muh MOVE..."

"Well, you've been tied up since last night, love," I said, bending down to take her wrists and help her up to her feet, taking most of her weight. "And the torture takes a physical toll, too. Wait until we get to the edge play. You get woozy pretty quick from loss of blood." I said it very matter of factly, and felt her shudder against me and moan in fear.

I chuckled and kissed her neck, as she leaned involuntarily against me and trembled. "Don't worry, sweetie... no deep cuts. Just shallow scratches. You'll be fine."