The President's Club 

 

 Karin revived slowly.  For long minutes she resisted the 

 persistent call of awareness and laid there in blissful 

 peace.  But the call was too strong.  So was her curiosity.  

 She allowed each of her senses to engage one by one.  

 Gradually, she became aware of her surroundings.  

 

 The first thing she noticed was that she was no longer 

 bound in any way and that all the pain seemed to be gone.  

 She felt as if she was floating, kind of.  Opening a wary 

 eye, she saw she was in the large hot tub on her apartment 

 deck.  The gently bubbling hot water soothed away the aches 

 and pains of the strange ordeal she had just gone through.  

 She felt safe, secure.  She felt loved, for the first time 

 she could ever recall.  It was an entirely new feeling for 

 her and scared her more than a little bit.  There were too 

 many complications in her life to have to deal with that, 

 too.

 

 Sam was sitting behind her in the tub, carefully keeping 

 her face out of the water by holding gently, but firmly 

 onto her breasts.  He was continually amazed at the feel of 

 them in his grasp.  It felt like they belonged there.  He 

 sat there waiting for her to rejoin him, quietly whispering 

 into her ear, humming familiar lullabies, caressing her 

 hair and neck with soft kisses.  Karin felt him behind her 

 and relaxed into him.  She grinned to herself as she felt 

 his erection between them.  

 

 Turning her face to his, she smiled at him, then kissed him 

 long and hard, urgently.  She raised herself up in the tub 

 and reached beneath her for his prick.  When he tried to 

 remove his hands from her breasts, she pinned them lightly 

 against her sides under her arms.  She liked them right 

 where they were.  They seemed to fit just right.

 

 Positioning herself carefully, she lowered herself onto his 

 erect manhood.  When she was fully impaled, she leaned back 

 against his chest once again.  She reached her arms up over 

 her head, providing him with full access to her body and 

 the freedom to explore it at will.  She began to massage 

 his cock with her cunt muscles.  No other action was needed 

 as she slowly, rhythmically coaxed the cum out of his one-

 eyed snake.  They both knew there was still a long night of 

 fucking ahead of them.

 

 =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

 She rolled over in the rumpled bed.  Strong sunlight was 

 assaulting the other side of the curtains, trying to force 

 reality into the isolated apartment.  Slowly stretching her 

 arms above her head, she felt the deep satisfaction of 

 having been well fucked.  She felt like the cat that had 

 eaten the canary and purred softly under her breath.  

 Noticing the emptiness in the bed next to her filled her 

 with a sudden panic, rudely jolting her to wakefulness.  He 

 was gone!  

 

 She was halfway to the front door of the apartment when she 

 smelled the freshly brewed coffee and the peculiar 

 fragrance of burned toast.  A quick peek into the kitchen 

 showed the table set for two, but no Sam.  She heard the 

 shower start running and grinned.  

 

 Walking into the steamy bathroom, she was totally at ease 

 with her nakedness.  It seemed natural around him.  She 

 slipped silently into the shower enclosure, coming in 

 behind him.  The water beating on his bowed head covered 

 the sounds of her entry and he was unaware of her presence.  

 She stood silently behind him, enjoying the chance to 

 observe him unawares.  He was a handsome man, strong and 

 virile, the kind of man that made young girls hearts beat a 

 bit faster.  As hers was doing now.  Water beaded up across 

 his broad shoulders, then combined into streams and coursed 

 down his muscled back.  She started to reach out to touch 

 the pale dimples of his ass cheeks, but stopped short, 

 wanting more time to memorize his image.

 

 As she watched him standing there in the pulsing stream, 

 she suddenly felt as if she were intruding into something 

 very personal.  His face, that part she could see, was a 

 picture of tormented indecision.  That was something she 

 would not have expected to see there.  He had exuded an 

 almost overpowering aura of strength in the short time she 

 had known him.  To see him like this made him more human 

 somehow, more lovable.  It was at that moment in the steamy 

 shower, that Karin lost her heart to this man whose true 

 name she still did not know.  

 

 Karin cleared her throat.  He didn’t hear her.  Again.  He 

 opened one eye and squinted at her under his armpit.  His 

 pleasure at seeing her standing there, naked, was rapidly 

 apparent.  She dropped her gaze to his swelling 

 appreciation, fascinated by the velvety hardness that had 

 given her so much pleasure the night before.  

 

 She moved up behind him.  Her arms went around him, hugging 

 him close.  Her hands explored his chest, as much a turn on 

 for her as her firm tits pressing into his back was for 

 him.  Her sharp fingernails terrorized the skin around his 

 pectorals.  He groaned, wiggling his butt slightly into her 

 tickling pussy hair.  She gave a laughing squeal, and 

 attacked his upper body with renewed vigor, her tormenting 

 fingers pinching lightly here, pulling a hair, kneading his 

 well defined muscles. 

 

 Reaching down with one hand, she picked up the bar of soap 

 and a hand towel.  Savagely, she soaped his entire body, 

 leaving his skin a dangerous shade of red.  She spared no 

 part of him and was extremely thorough, but she didn’t 

 dwell on his erect penis.  He voiced his disappointment 

 when she clinically washed it and moved on.  Her lilting 

 laughter enflamed his passions more than the magnificent 

 touch of her hardened nipples as they brushed back and 

 forth as she labored over him.  She finished with his face.  

 He had steeled himself for an abrasive cleansing here, too.  

 She surprised him.  Using just her fingertips sans 

 fingernails, she worked the soap into a lather, swirling 

 the tiny bubbles into his relaxed expression.  She aimed 

 the jets from the showerhead over his face and removed the 

 last of the soap from him.  

 

 Sam remained standing with his eyes closed, savoring the 

 brief respite from a world that demanded so much from him.  

 Karin stood easily in front of him, pleased she had been 

 able to do this simple task for him.  She looked up at his 

 relaxed face, so different from the tormented expression 

 she had seen him wearing earlier.

 

 When he did open his eyes, she silently offered him the bar 

 of soap and the hand towel, lifting one eyebrow in a 

 teasing challenge.  He accepted.

 

 As he lathered up the hand towel with a fresh charge of 

 soap, she slowly lifted her hands and laced her fingers 

 behind her neck, simulating the posture he had put her in 

 on the dance floor.  She spread her feet as far apart as 

 she could, bracing them against the walls on either side of 

 the shower stall.  Her eyes never left his as she assumed 

 this position.  When he nodded his satisfaction, that he 

 was pleased, she blushed with a rush of pleasure, giddy as 

 a schoolgirl.  

 

 Sam was as thorough with her body as she was with his.  He 

 did, however, take the opportunity to linger over her 

 charms, almost to the point of obsession.  Her skin glowed 

 with a hot fire as he moved from washing one area to the 

 next.  It reflected the flames his ubiquitous touch ignited 

 in her core.  When he finally stepped back, the last 

 patches of soap scum circling slowly around the drain, she 

 was literally shaking.  She had closed her eyes as he had 

 washed her face and her eyes remained closed.

 

 She heard the water shut off and felt the cool rush of 

 outside air as the door to the shower opened.  A soft thick 

 towel, compliments of the previous tenant, had been placed 

 over the radiator.  She melted into its warmth as Sam dried 

 her tingling body.  She notice he patted her skin to dry 

 her, not rubbing as most males would have done.  She 

 wondered where he had learned to do that, then realized it 

 didn’t matter.  What mattered was that he cared enough to 

 take the time to do it with her.

 

 When he had dried her and had used another towel to wind up 

 her long wet hair into a turban, he kissed her lightly on 

 the forehead.  “Time to wake up!”  He gently released her 

 interlaced fingers from behind her neck.

 

 A small crack appeared in one tightly closed eye.  She 

 caught him as he was staring at her tits.  She giggled and 

 did a little shimmy for him, making the tips bounce 

 provocatively.  With a playful slap on her flanks, he 

 chased her back into the kitchen, where the coffee had long 

 since finished brewing.  

 

 Sitting at the table with him seemed the most natural thing 

 to do.  Even being naked didn’t seem out of the ordinary.  

 They kidded back and forth about unimportant things, both 

 of the comfortable with the other. He didn’t apologize for 

 the dark shade of the toast, but she could tell it bothered 

 him.  There hadn’t been much else in the apartment suitable 

 for breakfast.  She hadn’t bothered to stock the pantry.  

 She hadn’t been expecting overnight guests.  He seemed 

 pleased when she admitted that to him, for some reason.

 

 It would have been a perfectly idyllic morning, but Sam 

 suddenly farted.  This was not something he was accustomed 

 to doing, even by himself. He had been reaching for his cup 

 of coffee.  Karin had said something that struck him funny, 

 and he had chuckled.  And then, ‘BLATTTTTT!’  Just like in 

 the cartoons.  He was so surprised, he dropped the cup of 

 coffee.  Which wouldn’t have been nearly as devastating, if 

 he had only been wearing some clothing.  Hot fluid 

 splashing on your thighs, heading for higher ground, is not 

 a suave-inducing stimulus.  

 

 Karin hadn’t recognized the sound of passing gas, but she 

 would have undoubtedly identified it by smell in a short 

 time.  She did, however, see the scalding hot coffee headed 

 for her favorite recreational area.  She acted with 

 instinct and self-preservation as she grabbed a pitcher of 

 water and a towel.  She dumped the water over the areas of 

 his legs where the coffee had landed, diluting the heat 

 with a torrent of water.  Falling to her knees by his 

 chair, she began to blot at his wet thighs with the towel, 

 which was much too small to do any good.

 

 She didn’t know when she recognized the telltale smell and 

 then associated it with the rude sound that started the 

 whole mess.  But she did, and, in spite of the eye-watering 

 effects of the noxious gas, she started to giggle.  She 

 snorted, actually, when she tried not to laugh at him.  

 

 Afraid she had offended him by snorting, she looked up.  

 His look of abject horror and embarrassment fueled her 

 funny bone.  This time she just about blew a gasket trying 

 to keep from laughing.  

 

 Seeing she wasn’t totally grossed out, Sam began to laugh 

 himself, at himself.  He didn’t realize that it was these 

 little imperfections that endeared him to her.  Not that he 

 should go around farting.  But he need a few chinks in that 

 shining armor to make him seem human.

 

 For Karin, it was nice to know he was human, after all.  

 Although she had found that out earlier this morning when 

 she had worn him out in bed.  Nothing she had done to or 

 for him could get him hard again.  He had sheepishly 

 admitted defeat and promised her, if she would only let him 

 sleep that there would be more in the morning.  Karin had 

 reluctantly given up her efforts to rouse him, and they had 

 snuggled down into the disheveled bed for some rest.

 

 ”How do you feel?"

 

 The question came during a lull in the laughter.  Its 

 seriousness marked a change in the direction of the 

 conversation.  She stopped and took a minute to do a quick 

 self-assessment.  "Fine," she answered, somewhat surprised.  

 "You were wonderful last night," she continued with a 

 giggle.

 

 "So were you."  He paused as he got serious.  "Karin, you 

 seem to like your sex rough.  Just how rough can you take 

 it?"  He still wasn’t convinced she was a rookie at this.  

 That would just be too good to be true, and, as he had 

 learned the hard way, there was usually something wrong 

 with anything that looked that good.  He didn’t consider 

 her marriage a problem.  It had never stopped him before.

 

 "I don’t know,” she said hesitantly.  “I really have only 

 tied myself up.  And once they tied me up and beat me in 

 the basement.  They hurt me then.”  She looked up at him.  

 It didn’t make any difference to her why she had felt and 

 reacted as she had.  She had liked the rough sex with him, 

 with her Sam, and she knew she wanted it again and again 

 and again.  She answered his question as honestly as she 

 could.  

 

 “How rough do I like it?  If it is with you, as rough as 

 you want.  I, uh, well, I trust you," she ended simply.  

 She didn't say she loved him, but that was what she meant 

 to say.  She thought she had better wait and see how things 

 turned out.  Besides, this was all new to her, and on top 

 of that, she was a married woman!

 

 He thought about something for a moment, and she could tell 

 this was the important question.  The one he had been 

 tormented by in the shower.  Men were so funny.  Even with 

 her limited experience, she could spot a nervous sweat.  

 With a wry smile, she watched him squirm as he struggled 

 with his question, shifting in his chair uneasily, clearing 

 his throat, tugging at his earlobe.  Then he seemed to make 

 up his mind.  She noticed the quickening of his pulse at 

 that ticklish spot at the base of his neck.  Her tummy 

 flip-flopped, not knowing what was coming next, but knowing 

 she would do it without question and love it.

 

 “Karin?  Do you - “

 

 “Yes.”

 

 He raised an amused eyebrow at her.  “May I finish?”

 

 “I’m sorry.  I’ll listen.  But the answer is ‘Yes’ to 

 whatever you want to ask me.”

 

 “Thanks for the warning!”  He laughed, relaxing.  Once 

 again, he posed the question.  “Do you want to continue?”

 

 He didn’t have to specify what he meant.  She knew.  With 

 her heart in her throat, she quietly answered, “Yes.”  

 There was no doubt in her voice.

 

 He was silent for a while, as if weighing the truthfulness 

 of her answer.  Then he continued.  “If we continue, you 

 will only have one more chance to stop.  After that, I will 

 decide what, how much and how long.  In addition, you will 

 address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’ at all times.  Is that 

 clear?”

 

 “Yes.”

 

 He waited, looking at her expectantly.

 

 “Oh!  Yes, sir!”

 

 “That will cost you.  All lapses of obedience will be dealt 

 with harshly.”  He stopped for a moment.  “Karin, from this 

 point on this is not a game.  Up to now, we’ve both been 

 dancing around.  We’ve had some fun, a few laughs, and, if 

 I’m not mistaken, we’ve both enjoyed it.  However, if you 

 take this next step, go with me to the next level, I will 

 expect you to obey me without hesitation.  I will do to you 

 and with you what pleases me.  You will not climax unless I 

 specifically permit it, regardless of the situation.  Do 

 you understand?”

 

 Karin sat quite still, her eyes wide.  He was describing 

 something she had never even fantasized possible.  Heaven.  

 Two tears leaked from her eyes and headed towards her chin.  

 From the crestfallen look on his face, it was clear he 

 misunderstood.

 

 “Sir?  May I speak?”  Her voice was tiny.

 

 “Yes.”

 

 “What you are describing; I would be your slave, Sir?  A 

 sex-slave, or something?”

 

 “Yes.”

 

 “Oh.”  She paused, thinking.  “Sir?  May I ask for one 

 favor?  Please?”

 

 “It would be unusual for a Master to grant conditions.  But 

 let’s hear it.”

 

 “I have a fantasy, Sir, this recurring picture in my head, 

 of being tied up in a certain way.  If I describe it to 

 you, do you think you could, you know….?  Please, Sir?”  

 She was quivering.  It was hard for her to admit her 

 deepest secrets, even to him.

 

 His outburst of deep laughter startled her.  "OK, Karin.  

 Pack an overnight case.  You can tell me in the car."

 

 It was not a question or statement.  It was a command from 

 her..., her..., her what?  Her lover?  Her friend?  Her 

 Master?  She didn’t know what the relationship was becoming 

 but she did not even think of hesitating or questioning his 

 absolute authority or his intentions.  She packed a small 

 bag, with very few clothes.  Her cunt was really wet now.

 

 While she was packing, Sam straightened the apartment.  He 

 readjusted the lights, moved the heavy chair back to where 

 it had been originally.  He also put all the toys he had 

 used away.  The only item he kept was the corded whip.  It 

 had proven very effective and he wanted to keep it.  He 

 also retrieved a bag from his car parked in the garage 

 downstairs.  He had about $175,000 in cash, his prize money 

 from last night.  He didn’t want to take it with him or 

 leave it in the car.  The banks, even his, was closed.  He 

 found a loose seam in the couch and stuffed the bundles of 

 money in between the springs.  He pulled the fabric back in 

 place and surveyed his work.  Not bad, but it wouldn’t last 

 if the couch were moved.  But it shouldn’t have to hold up 

 for long.  Just a few days.  

 

 An hour later, after a telephone call to his secretary, and 

 a quick fuck with her leaning over the back of the leather 

 chair, they were on the road in his car.  She sat as close 

 to him as she could get, curled with her feet drawn up 

 under her on the seat.  His arm was draped across the back 

 of the seat and she had her head resting on his chest.  She 

 was contented to let him take her wherever he wanted.  

 Occasionally she would slip a teasing finger in under his 

 shirt to twirl the hair on his chest.  He smiled to himself 

 as he drove, his Cheshire grin inflaming her passion.

 

 They had traveled for about two hours, out of the city, 

 through the endless suburbs, until they were winding up 

 into the mountains of a neighboring state.  He pulled off 

 the road onto a graveled road and then onto a narrow dirt 

 path, the ruts bouncing them around his car as he hurried 

 to get it out of sight and into the cleverly camouflaged 

 parking area.  The car could not be seen unless you were 

 standing right behind it.  Even a view from the sky was 

 blocked.

 

 Stopping the car, he tilted her head up to his and kissed 

 her. 

 

 "We walk from here."  Again, it was a command.

 

 He got her bag from the back and helped her out of the car.

 

 "Stop.  Turn around."

 

 She did as he commanded.

 

 Taking a length of cord from the trunk, he walked up behind 

 her.  Pulling her wrists behind her back, he looped the 

 cord around them.  He pulled the rope tight, and it dug 

 into her skin.  This would leave marks before too long.  

 

 Next, another cord was looped around her elbows.  It, too, 

 was pulled tight.  Her elbows came together in the middle 

 of her back until they were touching.  The discomfort this 

 caused her was incredible.  Her position pushed her tits 

 out in front of her, her erect nipples just exposed over 

 the top of the low-cut shirt he had told her to wear.  

 

 Sam had only allowed her to wear the small cotton tank top, 

 a pair of cut-off shorts and the 5” high-heels from last 

 night.  He had modified her shorts so that they were 

 obscene.  When he was done trimming the fabric, only the 

 fat central seam was remaining to run between her thighs 

 and that rode up tightly into her slit.  The sides and back 

 of the shorts were cut high, too, so that both her ass 

 cheeks were glaringly exposed.  

 

 She felt little or no embarrassment being dressed as she 

 was.  Because this was what he wanted.  She would have gone 

 to the opera dressed like this.

 

 The cord tied around her elbows was next looped around her 

 neck.  He tied a slipknot in the cord and pulled the loop 

 tight.  Her eyes opened wide at that, real fear visible in 

 them.  Holding on to the end of the cord like a leash, he 

 started walking up the trail.  He tugged on the cord 

 firmly, urging her to follow.  The slipknot cinched up 

 tight against her windpipe and she lurched after him.

 

 "Don't trip and fall," was all he said.

 

 That was going to be easier said than done.  Still 

 struggling for breath, she tried hard to focus on the rough 

 terrain of the narrow trail he was taking.  It was not used 

 very much, and was occasionally crossed with thick roots 

 and fallen branches.  Somehow she managed not to strangle 

 herself as they climbed up the side of the mountain for 

 about an hour.  At last they approached a sturdy cabin set 

 up against a cliff.

 

 He stopped in front of the door and worked the huge lock.  

 The smooth click told her it was obviously in good working 

 order.  He hadn’t pulled her after him so she stayed right 

 where she was as he carried the bags into the cabin.  He 

 was inside for some time.  She waited, strangely calm, 

 given the circumstances.  She looked up as he came out the 

 door and walked back to where she was standing.  He seemed 

 pleased that she hadn’t moved but didn’t comment on it.  He 

 bent slightly and kissed her on the lips.  

 

 "Karin.  Listen to me very carefully.  This is your last 

 chance to back out.  After this, I won't ask you again nor 

 will I listen to your pleas for mercy.  And you will plead 

 for mercy, believe me.  So, are you in or are you out?"

 

 She looked him deeply in the eye.  Stunned at the intensity 

 of the emotions she saw there, she turned to look out over 

 the scenic vista at the front of the mountain cabin.  She 

 turned back to her lover.

 

 "I’m in."

 

 He smiled at her and kissed her tenderly.  As he kissed 

 her, he undid the snap of her cut-offs and slowly, 

 teasingly unzipped them.  She wiggled her hips impatiently 

 to help him and the obscenely cut shorts fell to the ground 

 around her feet.  She stepped out of them and kicked them 

 away from her, naked from the waist down but for her shoes.

 

 She felt the cold steel of a hunting knife sliding along 

 the skin between her breasts.  In her forced posture, the 

 stressed fabric of her shirt stretched between the two huge 

 mounds.  It was cut like butter by the razor sharp knife.  

 In seconds, she stood nude in front of him.

 

 He stabbed the big knife into a log on the side of the 

 cabin several feet above her head.  Pulling on the cord 

 around her neck, he forced her to stand with her face 

 pressed up against the rough logs.  He tied the cord from 

 around her neck to the handle of the knife.

 

 He had retrieved some more rope and a couple of tent stakes 

 when he had gone into the cabin.  He pounded the stakes 

 into the ground, one to each side of her, and tightly tied 

 her feet so that they were spread far apart.  She was 

 forced to stand on the very tips of the toes of her high 

 heels and the strain in her calves made them stand out even 

 more than the high heels did.

 

 "You can scream up here and no one will hear you..."

 

 She had wondered why he had not gagged her.  He seemed to 

 enjoy her helplessness to communicate with him.

 

 "...but then I'd have to listen to you caterwauling, so 

 we'll just put this in here for now," he continued, as he 

 shoved a large phallic gag into her mouth.  Two straps 

 around her head secured it deep within her mouth.

 

 He threaded a cord between her body and the wall.  Pulling 

 the cord up under her tits, he looped the cord over and 

 around them in a figure ‘8’, then pulled it tight.  The 

 thin cord bit into the soft pliant tit flesh.  The large 

 orbs stood out even more than they normally would as they 

 were pulled and smashed against each other.  He tied the 

 ends of that cord behind her neck.  Any backward motion by 

 her head pulled the rope tighter.  The slipknot he tied 

 there would slowly strangle her tits off her chest.

 

 His finger ran down her ass crack to explore her asshole.  

 She began to moan with arousal and tried to hump back onto 

 the inquisitive finger.  Reaching farther around under her, 

 he found her sopping slit.  Putting two of his large 

 fingers together, he jammed them upwards and buried them up 

 to the palm of his hand.  The suddenness of the assault 

 took her breath away.  He started roughly sawing them in 

 and out until her body began to respond to the crudely 

 erotic actions.  

 

 Seeing the response he was waiting for, he stepped back 

 from her and exposed his ramrod-hard prick.  Quickly, he 

 jammed his cock into her steamy twat.  He got about six 

 inches buried into her and had to move in and under her to 

 shove in the last four.  Each thrust lifted her up off her 

 toes and mashed her tits into the rough exterior of the log 

 cabin wall.  The logs she was smashed up against were 

 placed just right so that by chance her stiffened nipples 

 began to work their way insidiously into the crack formed 

 by two of the logs.  As he continued to fuck into her, her 

 nipples began to swell even larger and stiffer from the 

 arousal of the fucking and his rough treatment of her.  

 

 Each ramming thrust pounded her tits into the wall, shoving 

 her pliable breasts further and further into the crack.  

 Eventually, her nipples became firmly embedded in the 

 narrow crevasse between the upper and lower logs, held fast 

 by their swollen state.  

 

 He shifted suddenly, throwing his hips from side to side 

 while he was buried to the hilt in her steaming cunt.  This 

 side-to-side motion amplified itself as her upper her upper 

 body was whipsawed back and forth.  Her elongated nipples 

 slid along the narrowing crack, pinching them in tighter, 

 even without the increased swelling.   

 

 Given the rough hewn logs that made up the cabin, it was 

 not surprising that the sharp point of a huge sliver jammed 

 into the side of one of her nipples, skewering it clear 

 through on one of his more forceful thrusts into her cunt.  

 This painful situation, unintended by him, set of fireworks 

 of pain and, strangely, pleasure in her body.  She shook 

 violently as she climaxed for the first time at the cabin.  

 Her cunt squeezed tightly around his cock as she came.  

 Grunting franticly through her gag, she urged him to fuck 

 her faster and harder.  

 

 He plowed into her clasping pussy harder and faster, racing 

 toward his own finish.  Panting and jerking, his cock 

 spewed his slippery cum deep into her pussy.  Once, twice, 

 three, four times his cum squirted into her.  He couldn't 

 believe it when his prick caught a second wind and poured 

 another three spurts into her milking cunt.  

 

 "Shit!  This girl is special, all right.  My prick is still 

 stiff," he thought in amazement.

 

 He pulled out of her and stuffed his prick back into his 

 pants.  She remained hanging on the wall for a few painful 

 seconds.  Her feet no longer were in contact with the 

 ground.  She was being help up only by her pinched, and now 

 terribly stretched, nipples.  When they did finally pull 

 free of the grasp of the logs, the large sliver broke off 

 the log and remained skewered through her nipple, looking 

 like a small harpoon through a tiny rosy whale.  The pain 

 of her tortured, stretched flesh flashed straight through 

 to her brain, blossoming into a fireball.  

 

 As she passed out from the sudden pain, her knees gave way.  

 She slumped towards the ground, strangling herself on the 

 cord around her neck.  Re-acting quickly, he caught her up 

 under her arms and raised her up, propping her against the 

 wall.  Reaching up, he pulled the knife out of the wall and 

 loosened the cord that was tight around her neck.  He used 

 the knife to slash at the ropes binding her ankles to the 

 tent stakes.  He quickly picked her up and tossed her like 

 a limp doll over his shoulder.  He carried her like that 

 into the cabin and laid her gently on the bed.

 

 That was when he first noticed the small trickle of dried 

 blood that had run down over her breast when the sliver 

 impaled her nipple.  Grimacing at the unintended pain she 

 had felt, he carefully leaned over and licked the blood 

 away.  Then he gently cleaned the wound, but left the large 

 wooden sliver in place.