Date: Thu, 13 Apr 2017 07:46:18 +0000 (UTC)
From: sfmaster <sfmaster@att.net>
Subject: Challenge CH02 Part 2b

WARNING!  This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains
Strong Sexual Content.  It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS
only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state that prohibits such
behavior, stop reading immediately!!!


"The Challenge" Chapter Two PT2: Death and the Resurrection

By mailto:sfmaster@att.net

Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you
include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by e-mail.
The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of the
story for their own, non-commercial use.

Copyright (c) 1998 by mailto:sfmaster@att.net
Revised January 2002

Attn: Readers please feel free to send e-mail to the author.  I do want to
hear from you!



Challenge CH02 PT2 Continued:


Greenwich CT: January 1982

	"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," cried Eve Peters,
as mother and daughter sat together on the couch in the library.

	"Mother, please!  We've already argued about this before.  There's
nothing that will change my mind," said Alana, swallowing, as she brushed
her black hair away from her eyes.

	"Maybe another doctor or clinic," suggested Eve.

	"No, I've had enough doctors," shouted Alana.

	"Alana, please!  You don't know what you're doing!"

	"Yes, I do Mom, please!" begged Alana.

	The afternoon sun shone through the library windows, and a breeze
came through the open windows.  Eve and Alana arguing, as they had for
months, repeating the same discussions over and over again.  They sat on
the couch together, and tears flowed onto both their faces.

	"I've had you followed, do you know that?" asked Eve, "what's the
benefit of wealth if you can't use it?  I know you have an apartment in
Rye, just over the border.  That you bought an old car so you wouldn't use
the new BMW I bought for you after you finished therapy.  That you dress up
on Friday and Saturday nights in a wig with plenty of makeup and go to
those horrible sex clubs in the city and - and," Eve buried her face in her
hands, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.

	"And what, mother?"

	"The first couple of times, the detectives couldn't get in.  But
then they bought some leather clothes, and billed me, and followed you.
And saw you getting whipped in public!" cried Eve.

	"I'm sorry mother, but it's true."

	"You're not going to deny it?"

	"No."

	"That's even worse!"

	"Mom, I've got a confession to make.  During therapy, I found that
I liked pain.  After I could walk again, I started going into Manhattan and
found a Dominatrix to use me.  I enjoyed it!"

	"Is that what you like, being beaten?" asked Eve shock on her face.

	"It's not like that.  Then I wanted more, so I started going to the
S&M Clubs."

	"No, no!" cried Eve, aghast at what her daughter was telling her.

	"Mother, I just can't explain it, maybe I was just this way all
along, and didn't know it.  Until the accident, and the therapy, and all
the pain I underwent, brought it to the surface."

	"That you're a sex pervert!" accused Eve.

	"No Mom.  There are terms for what I am: bottom, submissive, and
eventually slave.  But it's just what I feel."

	"You might be discovered.  Think of the scandal!"

	"I already have.  Why do you think that I disguise myself?  One
night, I was in a club, and saw a Wall Street lawyer that I once worked
with.  He didn't recognize me."

	"What happened to the debutante?  To the girl we hosted a ball for
in Manhattan?  Who went to Radcliff and Harvard?  Who learned horseback
riding in Europe?  Is that what you want to be, a sex slave?"

	"If that is what it takes to be fulfilled, yes, mother."

	Eve broke into tears, sobbing.  Alana reached outwards and held her
mother tightly to herself, trying to comfort her.  She grabbed a handful of
tissues from a box on the couch, and dried her mother's cheeks.

	"No, no, I've already lost one daughter, I won't lose another,"
cried Eve.

	"She left of her own accord, you know that.  Just as I must, but
I'll always be nearby.  I promise I'll always live near here, in Greenwich,
Darien, or just over the border in New York," consoled Alana.

	"But what about the scandal?"

	"I'm taking care of that," answered Alana.

	"You're planning something, tell me what.  Now!" demanded Eve, "I
know that you've been seeing a plastic surgeon in Manhattan, and a lawyer."

	"You won't like it," cautioned Alana.

	"I don't like the fact that my daughter is going to sex clubs,
either.  What are you up to?"

	"All right, mother.  You said it yourself just now.  What is the
use of great wealth if you can't use it?  Well, I'm going to use some of
it, for me."

	"How?"

	"In a few weeks, you won't have to worry about Alana Peters going
to sex clubs, because Alana will no longer exist.  I'm having the plastic
surgeon give me a new face.  Meantime, the lawyer is creating a new
identity for me.  Everything from birth certificate to college degree."

	"No!" screamed Eve, "no!"

	"Mother, it's the only way that my face won't end up on the Daily
News!  The only way to avoid a scandal is to cease being Alana Peters.
I've decided to give up my former life and create a new one, one where I
can explore my sexuality without worry.  I'm going to take a normal job,
live in a regular apartment, and cease to be one of the upper class.  I
gave up my Wall Street job because I want something else in life!  I'm
sorry," comforted Alana, as she held her mother in her arms, and dried her
tears.

	"What's going to be your new name then?" asked Eve, disbelief in
her voice.

	"Erica Riken," answered Alana.

	* * * * *

	In February, Alana had gone for plastic surgery.  Alana Peters had
disappeared into South America.  Erica Riken then suddenly appeared and
rented an apartment.  She had gone from working a Finance job on Wall
Street to being a bookkeeper for a liquor distributor in Darien.

	When she looked in the mirror, Alana no longer looked back at her.
Instead, there was someone different, who could explore the new life that
she had chosen.

	Gone were the Yacht Races, Horse Shows, Golf (that she had hated
anyway), and summers at Martha's Vineyard.  Along with the Gucci gowns,
unlimited expense accounts, and Louis Vuitton handbags that she had liked.

	`I've crossed the Rubicon,' Erica said to herself one evening, as
she drove into the city.

	Erica was wearing a clingy black dress, heels, and had even made
some friends in the scene.  Finally she was free to find a Dom, someone
that she could serve as a slave.

Part Three: The Wrong Dom

September 1982

	Erica drove her seven-year-old Chevrolet up the driveway to her
Master's house.  She had spent the day shopping, doing chores, fully aware
that she wouldn't be returning home until late Sunday.  Past the point
where she would be able to get anything done before the workweek again
started.  Daniel had been lately asking for her to begin her slavery after
work on Friday night, but Erica had refused.

	While it was true that she did want to serve, Erica still needed
time to recreate herself.  To let the two women who inhabited the same body
to reconcile themselves into Erica Riken.

	Daniel owned a house in Port Chester, NY, just over the border in
New York, which was a forty-minute drive from her apartment in Darien, CT.
He owned a company, or so he told her.  They had met one night at an S&M
club in Manhattan.  Erica had found him very attractive.  Slim, athletic,
well built, he seemed the very model of a man that she had always been
attracted to.  He usually dressed in black, leather of some kind.

	For several months now, she had belonged to him.  They had started
by going to dinner together, and he had charmed her thoroughly.  Since
Daniel was to be her first Master, he had told her that everything that she
was going to learn about submission was to come from him.  So he had
ordered her not to read any books about S&M, and she had obeyed.

	Erica locked her car, and put her keys in her purse.  She walked to
the front door, and opened it with a key that Daniel had given her.  Since
it was summer and still quite warm, all she was wearing was a blouse,
skirt, and modest heels.

	Locking the door behind her, she quickly stripped herself of all of
her clothes, hanging them in hall closet.  On the small table was a collar
and bracelet set, which Erica rushed to lock upon herself.  Erica locked
the cuffs around her ankles, then her wrists.  Brushing her long black hair
around her neck, she locked the leather collar around her neck.  New to her
confinement in recent weeks was a ball gag.  Erica picked the object from
the table, opened her mouth wide, and inserted the red rubber ball into her
mouth.  She buckled it tight at the back on her neck, breathing through her
nostrils.  Finally, she knelt down on the carpet, and locked her collar to
a chain attached to the wall.  Then she locked her wrists together.  Erica
was now bound and helpless, with a key nowhere in sight to release her.
She leaned herself again the wall to wait.

	It took only a short time for the ball between her teeth to become
uncomfortable.  Once, she had not closed the leather straps tightly enough,
and Daniel had punished her severely.  So afterwards, Erica had always
obeyed his orders.

	Bound as she was, Erica didn't know if she was alone in the house,
or if her Master was upstairs.  She had been ordered not to enter the house
beyond the foyer.  Some weekends Daniel would be in the house, other times
he would be returning home.

	Either way, Erica felt vaguely uneasy about her vulnerable
position, that she shouldn't be helpless this in this manner.  Resting on
her knees, even though she was on a piece of carpeting, soon became
uncomfortable.  While she had told Daniel about her accident, and that her
body really wasn't fully healed, he didn't seem to care.

	After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the key turn in the
lock.  Erica felt a breeze of outside air brushing against her naked skin,
and she remained rock still, facing into the house.  She didn't know who
had entered.

	She felt like squealing when her ass cheeks were roughly parted,
and a finger probed her tightly closed anal opening.  Erica was glad when
she received a couple of spanks on her behind.  That meant her anus was
safe, at least for now.

	Erica was then pulled to her feet, and she quickly took a glance at
Daniel.  He was dressed in a summer shirt, shorts, and sandals.  He
unlocked the chain from the wall, and led her into the living room.  He
made her sit down on the couch, and removed her ball gag.

	"Thank you, Master," said Erica as she took several deep breaths.

	"You're welcome, slave.  Did you wait long?"

	"No, sir."

	"Good.  I made Dinner earlier; all you have to do is reheat it.
I'll unlock your hands, and then you can put everything in the oven.  Then
we'll eat."

	"Yes, sir."

	While Erica considered herself a good cook, and had offered to
prepare Dinner on numerous occasions, Daniel still insisted on cooking
himself.  Even though he was a lousy cook, in Erica's opinion.

	Still, he had roasted a Chicken, which he had managed to cook
without it being dry or tough.  They ate together, him clothed, Erica
naked.  When they were done, Erica cleaned up, and washed the dishes.

	"Thank you, sir," said Erica.

	"You're welcome, slave."

	Glancing at the clock, it was now 9 PM.  She knew that Daniel would
take a shower, change, and would be ready to use her.  Which was what she
wanted, she desired.  To be used and wanted by a Master.

	Erica was then pulled over to a chair, and her wrists were locked
behind her back.  Her collar chain was then locked to the chair, making her
helpless once again.  Daniel's hands touched her breasts, and her nipples
quickly became erect.  He touched her stomach, and playfully tickled her,
making her giggle.

	"Be back soon, slave.  And don't go anywhere!" he admonished.

	"Yes, sir," Erica said in response.

	Erica waited patiently, indeed, what else could she do, as Daniel
prepared himself.  Some weeks, he had blindfolded her, but not this time.
Erica wondered if this was by design, or just what she perceived as erratic
behavior.

	Daniel preferred to use her while wearing a black leather vest and
matching leather shorts.  Once he had finished bathing & dressing, he
reappeared in his usual outfit.

	"Ready, slave?"

	"Yes, Master."

	Alana was released from the chair.  In the basement of the house,
Daniel had built a small playroom.  While nothing like the Dungeon that
Erica had been used in by Mistress Martine, it still contained an
impressive amount of D/s toys.  Daniel pulled Erica along, down the stairs.
Erica was glad she wasn't hobbled; else she would have had trouble
negotiating the steps.

	The playroom was one of the basement rooms, and the walls had been
painted black.  Small but intense lights shone from the ceiling, which
provided some illumination.  Ringbolts were mounted on the walls to secure
slaves to, there was a bondage chair that would allow access to the
occupant's sex, a leather clad bench, and a cabinet to hold various toys.

	Erica had been Daniel's slave for months, and she never knew what
would be awaiting her.  In recent months though, something had changed.  It
had begun when Daniel had told her to stop seeing her friends that she had
just recently made, and that she wasn't supposed to read any books on the
scene.  She had uneasily complied with his orders.

	She was placed on a rug in the center of the playroom, and made to
kneel.  She did so in silence, awaiting Daniel's next move.  He got a
riding cop from the wall, where it had been hanging.  Then he walked back
to her, and placed its tip under her chin.  She shivered, nervous about
what would happen next.

	"Do you accept your discipline, slave?" Daniel asked.

	"Yes, Sir," Erica quickly answered.

	"Prepare to be used then."

	Erica soon found herself hanging from a ceiling chain, her legs
opened by a spreader bar.  She was now totally vulnerable to whatever
Daniel would do to her.  This was what she had waited for, what she had
wanted all week.  First striped and then used sexually by her Master
Daniel.  She didn't have to even look at herself to know that her nipples
were hard.

	"Count, slave!" Daniel ordered.

	The first stroke with the thin crop was delivered across her
exposed sex, making Erica cringe with pain.  Normally, Daniel would work
gradually up to striking her sex.  Instead, he had begun there, and Erica
suddenly feared what would happen next.

	"One!"

	"Two!"

	"Three!"

	Daniel maintained a steady rhythm of strokes with the crop, each
one landing on a different place on her exposed body.  Hanging by the
chain, her legs held open by the bar, and counting each stroke, Erica soon
began to perspire.  She could feel the drops running down her exposed
flanks, and she grew ever more excited after each series of strokes.

	"Twenty."

	"Twenty-five."

	"Thirty."

	Erica realized that she was now in for a severe session, having
been cropped far longer than usual.  In spite of the large numbers of
strokes, and the fact that she felt like her skin was on fire, she had
entered the point where she could "ride the pain."  Divorcing her mind from
her body, she went beyond the usual pain/pleasure feeling that she usually
felt while being used.

	"Kiss the crop," ordered Daniel.

	Erica suddenly came back to Earth, her mind and attention elsewhere
as she again realized where she was.  Quickly, she kissed the crop's
handle, again and again.

	"Thank you, Sir!" Erica stuttered.

	"You were somewhere else."

	"Yes, Sir!"

	He held her in his arms, which were also covered in sweat from his
exertions, and kissed her.  He forced his tongue into her willing mouth,
and she kissed him passionately in return.

	"Would you like to be whipped?" he asked.

	"Yes, please, Sir!"

	Daniel smiled, and then walked over to the cabinet.  He replaced
the crop on the wall, withdrawing a long sinuous black leather whip from
the cabinet.  It was a supple, oiled piece of leather.  And it would hurt
terribly!

	"Ready, slave?" Daniel asked.

	"Yes, Sir!"

	"No need to count, darling."

	With the first stroke of the whip, Erica exploded into a series of
explosive orgasms.  The whip would curl itself around her naked body, and
then come to rest with an explosive crack.  It struck between her breasts,
and legs.  She screamed with both pleasure and pain, all at the same time.
Tears fell from her eyes and down her cheeks as she felt the wonderful
release that she had been waiting for all week.

	Erica didn't know, nor did she care, how long she was whipped, or
even how many strokes.  But when it was finished, and she hung limply from
the chain, she was glad.  Daniel first released the cuffs on her ankles,
and then released her wrists.

	"Thank you, Master," breathed Erica.

	"You're welcome, slave."

	Daniel carried Erica upstairs into his bedroom.  He washed her off
with a towel, and then he proceeded to strip and clean himself off as well.
Then he jumped onto the bed, and began to kiss her all over.  He started at
her feet, and moved up her legs to her sex, then stomach, her breasts, and
finally her mouth.  Erica enfolded him in her arms, and opened her legs to
accommodate him.

	His cock was already erect and hard, and he entered her wet slit
easily.  His cock was long and hard, and he penetrated her, making Erica
moan with desire and want.  In no time, he established a rhythm as he drove
her into the bed.  Again and again, time after time.

	Having already experienced orgasms while being cropped and whipped,
Erica came quickly.  Daniel held back, extracting the maximum amount of
pleasure that he could from her.

	"Ooooooh!" Erica moaned, "ooooh!"

	Finally, they came together, both experiencing orgasms at the same
time.

	"Thank you, Master," said Erica.

	"You're welcome, darling.  I'd like to ask you something."

	"Yes, Sir?"

	"You work for a liquor distributor, don't you?"

	"Yes, Sir."

	"I want you to steal me a case of whiskey," he asked.

	"I can't do that.  I've never stolen anything from any place that
I've worked," Erica answered, "and liquor is valuable stuff.  We have a
security firm keeping an eye on everyone, and tight inventory controls.
And liquor is a controlled substance, too."

	"I want you to steal a case of whiskey," Daniel repeated, even
louder.

	"Sorry, I can't.  I'll gladly buy you one, sir, as a gift......."

	Enraged, Daniel got up off the bed and removed a cane from the
dresser.  With pause or mercy, he delivered ten swift and harsh strokes to
Erica.  Cringing from the unexpected and sudden attack, Erica curled into a
ball to shield herself from the cane's impacts.  Crying from the sudden
change from pleasure to pain, Erica was then slapped by Daniel.

	"Disloyal Bitch!" he roared.

	He then turned her onto her stomach, flattening her onto the bed.
Before she realized what was happening, Erica felt her ass cheeks being
forced apart.

	"No!" cried Erica in horror, "no, please!" she begged.

	Erica had never really liked having her behind invaded; the very
thought had always repelled her.  She knew that Daniel's stiff cock would
deeply invade her, opening her anal hole.  Daniel didn't bother to use any
lubricant of any kind.  His cock was rammed inside her, forcing its way to
her puckered opening.

	"Open up, cunt!" roared Daniel.

	"No, sir," cried Erica, "please," she cried as tears fell from her
eyes.

	Even though her bottom hole was closed tight, Daniel managed to
force his cock inside her.  Erica resisted, then tried to open herself.
But Daniel pushed himself inside her, and Erica's anus hurt from the
unwanted intrusion.  When he finally penetrated her, Erica screamed.  Then
she felt his hot come squirt itself into her anus, the final humiliation.
She had not screamed that way since the day she had been ejected from the
Mustang, with death a certainty facing her.

	That night, Erica cried herself to sleep, with Daniel totally
oblivious to her, uncaring.
	* * * *
	The next day, she took a shower in the morning, and was horrified
to see red in the tub's water.  Her ass was sore, and hurt!  Later, she
took some toilet paper & Vaseline, and cleaned out the blood from her
behind.  Erica wanted to cry.  What had happened to Daniel?  He had been a
kind, caring Master for months.  He had fulfilled all of her desires,
training her, disciplining her.  But taking her in the rear against her
wishes!

	Afterwards, they ate breakfast together, which Erica had prepared.
She had made batter, and had heated up a waffle iron, which had gone unused
until she had become his slave.  They ate juice, waffles, and coffee
together.  The Times was spread on the far end of the table, but neither of
them looked at the paper.

	After they had finished, Erica brought the dishes into the kitchen
to clean up.  She was washing the dishes in the sink, wearing an apron,
when she suddenly felt Daniel's hands surround her and hug her from behind.

	"Erica, I'm sorry," Daniel began, "I don't know what came over me."

	"Daniel....."

	Daniel turned Erica towards her, and kissed her.  He held her
tightly, pressing her apron-clad form against his.  He was wearing an old
sweatshirt and pants, and looked slightly mussed.

	"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have used you against your will like that.
I'll never do that again."

	"Thank you, Sir," replied Erica.

	For the rest of the day they made leisurely love in the bedroom
together.  Sometimes, Daniel would strike her with the crop, but it was
only for a mild reminder of Erica's position.

	It rained, and seeing the drops on the windows made the day seem
even more dreamlike and lazy.  Finally, though, afternoon had come and
Erica had to leave.  She again showered, and dressed.

	"Erica?" Daniel asked.

	"Yes, Sir?"

	"Before you leave, I have to tell you something."

	"Yes, Sir."

	"Next week, I'm taking on a new slave, who will be a companion for
you," said Daniel.

	"Thank you."  The thought of sharing Daniel was one that Erica had
never considered!

	"Her name is Lauren Singer."

The End of Chapter Two PT2