Message-ID: <1730eli$9706271233@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: James Lawson Subject: Second Chance-Complete Story Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Mailer: Mozilla 3.01Gold (Win95; I) Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: This is a complete story that probably doesn't have the erotica to be here. Tough. Live with it you perverts. She awoke with a gasp. As the adrenaline pumped through her body, smell, hearing, and feel were magnified. Laying still, she took everything in. She was not restrained, no cuffs, rope, or tape. She was naked, but covered with a blanket, and on a bed. Thunder crashed outside, with rain pelting the roof. “I’m in a dwelling, lying on a couch.” she thought. The events of the past few hours ran through her mind. Her name was Catherine Sartre, 23, and a slave for a very cruel man. Ever since graduating high school at 17, her life revolved around giving sexual pleasure and waiting on her master hand and foot. Her parents sold her to him, for what reason she did not know. For the last six years, only pain and humiliation were her silent companions. He made her clean the house during the day and provide him sexual pleasure during the evening. When he was drunk, which was more often than not, the sex would turn to bondage and whipping of some kind. She had endured one of his drinking spells, shackled to the bed and forced to submit to his rough handling of her while he got his sexual pleasure. He had left Catherine shackled to the bed while he went to watch tv. Falling into a drunken sleep, the cigarette in his hand had fallen onto a pile of newspapers and started a fire. Catherine’s survival instinct took over: She had to escape or die in the fire. Noticing that the key to her manacles was on the nightstand next to the bed, she strained with all her remaining might to reach for her freedom. As blood seeped slowly from her wrist from reaching for the keys, she could smell smoke coming from the living room. Finally, she grabbed the keys and frantically worked on freeing herself. Catherine smiled for the first time in years as she unlocked the cuffs and got out of the bed, unfortunately, heat was eminating from the door. There was no way to get to some clothes, so naked, she opened the window and ran off into the night, never looking back. After running for almost an hour, rain started to fall. This, along with a lack of clothing, was making her cold and weak. Nevertheless, she pressed on, not wanting to have her master somehow survive and find her, lest she return to the horrible life of a slave. “Damn bastard.” She told herself, “I hope he dies in that fire and goes straight to hell!” The path ahead of her was getting blurry, then she realized that she was too weak to continue onward. As she got to a remote road, she saw a set of headlights and then let fatigue put her to sleep. “Hey, you okay?” It was a soft, masculine voice. Catherine turned to see a tall, well built man wearing a Scottish Claymores t-shirt and shorts offer her a mug. “It’s coffee. I figured you might need it after being out in the rain for so long.” She sat herself up, covering her nakedness and accepting the warm beverage. His brown eyes stared at her for a moment before speaking. “Hang on a sec, okay?” Catherine moved a stray lock of her black hair and watched him go into another room. He came back with a long t-shirt and handed it to her. “It’s not much, but it will provide you some modesty.” He turned around, providing her the privacy to put it on. As she sat down her coffee and stood up, she looked at herself and felt ashamed. Her master had kept her underfed so she would have a slender figure. She shrugged and put the nightshirt on and sit back down. “I’m finished.” She softly mumbled. Thomas Dalton turned around and started remembering what had taken place just a few hours ago. He was at his uncle’s house helping him with the surveying of the property that his late father had left him. After he was finished, he decided to take a route home that he didn’t take that often. It had started raining, so he turned on his hi-beams and slowed the car down. Good thing, because before he knew it, a naked woman suddenly came into his view. She was lying in the middle of the road, being pelted by the rain. Thomas put her in the back seat of his car and took her to his place, putting her on his couch and keeping a vigilant watch over her. Seeing her awaken, he started a pot of coffee, then offered her some clothing. “My name’s Thomas Dalton, what’s yours?” Saying it while outstretching his hand. She looked at him and smiled at his kindness. “I’m Catherine Sartre, where am I?” “You’re at my house. I found you on the road naked and didn’t want to leave you there. What happened to you.” She lowered her head and started to choke her words, “I was a slave to a horrible man. He must have been smoking when he fell asleep. The house caught on fire and I escaped.” Unable to hold over six years of emotional pain and suffering, she put her head into her hands and began crying. Thomas moved to her side in an instant, putting her into his arms and offering her some shelter in his frame. “It’s okay, you’re safe here. I’ll protect you.” Then, it suddenly hit Catherine, a strong emotion she had never felt before. She took off her shirt and whispered into his ear. “Please make love to me Thomas.” Thomas, stared at her for a brief moment and then proceeded to remove his clothes. He moved in close to her and asked her if she was sure about this. She nodded her head and softly kissed him. He returned the soft kiss then slowly moved down her neck, stopping at her breasts, then moved to her slim stomach, finally stopping at her shaved vagina. He licked and sucked her down there, with Catherine taking in this new experience with a joyous look on her face. After bringing her to orgasm, he lifted his head up and looked into her eyes, she softly nodded and laid down on the floor and offered herself to her. For the next few hours, they made love and held each other, letting time flow around them. One year later.............. “And do you, Thomas Dalton, take Catherine Sartre to be your lawfully wedded wife.....” Thomas looked over at Catherine and smiled. She had gained and lost weight at the same time, now having a lean, athletic body. She had been living with him when he proposed to her, and she accepted. “Mr. Dalton?” The priest looked at him with a questioning glance. “Well Mr. Dalton, do you?” Thomas regained his focus and slid his finger around his throat. “Yes, yes I do.” The priest smiled and continued. “Then by the power vested in me by God and the state, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” THE END -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /