The dawn of a new day

Vanessa's eyes opened, fast and wide, well before her daily alarm. Her breathing was hard, panicky even at her first waking moment. Brand was lightly snoring next to her, behind her turned back. He had taken over most of the bed, leaving Vanessa a little sliver on the edge. Even in her sleep she had given him all she had, unconsciously rolling to what little space he left her.

At least he wasn't a cover hog. His warm body had thrown off most of the comforter, leaving Vanessa with blanketing to spare. She hugged it close, shivering into it for a moment despite its cozy embrace. She didn't hug it for long, though. Here was a moment... a brief moment... to get away from Brand. To be alone. The thought that she could be alone, could be away from him for any length of time, spread throughout her whole body like a glow, vitalizing her.

Quietly as she could, careful... so careful, Vanessa uncovered herself. She moved at a snail's pace, slowly rising up. A droplet of dried blood from her backside stuck painfully to the fine Egyptian cotton sheets beneath her, pulling briefly at her before she freed herself.

Free! Vanessa literally tiptoed away over a trail of wilting flower petals. She avoided the master bath connected to her room, it was too close to Brand. There was another bathroom upstairs with a shower - not as nice as the master bath but it was well stocked enough for what she needed, with plenty of makeup and hair products from a time not so long aho, when it had been her daughter's primary bathroom.

Vanessa looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't recognize the person looking back at her. It wasn't her. The nude black woman looking at her had smeared, day-old makeup. She had haunted eyes, one of them blackened, that cried streaks of black makeup down her cheeks. She had dried white spit crusting her chin and face. She turned, craning her neck behind her. Her back and buttocks had harsh scrapes on them. They should be able to heal, like most scrapes, without scarring, but Brand had broken the skin... it had hurt so bad. It was painful to look at, and to remember. Her eyes went down, where dried semen had dripped out of her abused butthole... she couldn't look anymore. She turned back towards her front, looking at her face again. The corners of her lips were pulled down, her shoulders were slumped... Vanessa straightened her back and set her mouth in a firm line, trying again.

It was a little better. She almost recognized the person in the mirror. She wished she didn't, that she could believe this was happening to someone else, not -

"There she is!" The door burst open to Brand's jovial voice.

Vanessa screamed and jumped. Her foot hit the underside lip of the sink counter hard enough to cause her to gasp and almost collapse. Standing mostly on one uninjured foot, Vanessa turned and crossed one arm over her brown breasts and the other went down over her belly, with her hand positioned over her pubic area. "Christ! You scared me, S-" Vanessa swallowed.

Brand raised an eyebrow.

What the hell. She had already started. Pathetic.

"Sir." Vanessa muttered, finishing.

"Holy shit you look like a mess. Better jump in the shower and get clean, huh? Let's wash my dick while we are at it, it smells like ass."

It did smell, Vanessa learned a moment later when she climbed in the shower with Brand and he pressed her onto her knees. She lathered up a loofah and took her time, touching and cleaning every part of Brand's body for him. She even washed his hair. He didn't instruct her to pay special attention to his penis - she did it all on her own. She hardly wanted it reeking like that if she had to... when she had to next put it in her mouth. He hardened under her cleaning, but Brand gave her no instruction to finish him off. Vanessa almost wished he would. If she could drain his lust now she might be safer later. But she wouldn't ask to do it, or perform spontaneously. She just couldn't.

Brand complete, it was Vanessa's turn to get clean. Brand took over for her. The younger man pushed her dark body face-first against the cold tile wall of the shower, making her gasp in discomfort. He kept his open palm firmly against her back, squishing her chest flat, while he told her to raise her arms and lace them behind her head. He lathered and washed her back... under her arms... down her long, strong black legs... he roughly grabbed her elbow, and wordlessly, forcefully turned her from the wall, forcing her head down and her legs straight. Vanessa thought for sure she was going to get penetrated again, and took a deep breath. Brand merely spread her butt, and started cleaning her tenderized butthole with his thick fingers, going inside gently but deep. He crouched and spread her vagina, parting the hole. He touched her. She could feel him looking at her pink insides. He put one finger in, masturbating her. A moment later two fingers were inside her. Vanessa... she didn't moan. She wanted to, but she didn't. Still, her body betrayed her arousal, moan or no.

Brand stopped. He lifted her by her elbow again and gave her another turn, pressing her back this time against the uncomfortably cold tile wall. He put his fingers, his molesting fingers that had been in her pussy... and her ass... he put them at her mouth. A brief half-struggle ensued, Vanessa silently resisting, twisting her head, Brand silently insisting, pressing painfully against her thick lips, mashing her face against her own hard teeth. Vanessa let his fingers in, and let him play with her tongue, rubbing her own residue of her all around her palate and tastebuds. With one hand still occupied invading her mouth, Brand leaned and flipped open the bottle of flowery body wash. He squeezed with one hand and poured it generously over the loofah that had been discarded on the floor. He bent down with his knees and grabbed it with two fingers.

His fingers never stopped fucking Vanessa's mouth as he cleaned her front, face, neck, and hair. He pressed close, his whole body grinding the slippery soap between them. He worked her breasts, cleaning underneath them, slipping over her nipples. Vanessa shut her eyes. She clenched her fists by her sides, so they wouldn't wrap around Brand. She spread her legs, ever so slightly...

Brand's fingers popped out of her mouth. He handed her her razor, and stepped out of the shower, toweling off and leaving the bathroom. Vanessa groaned the moment the door closed behind Brand, and started getting her legs and underarms smooth. A moment later she was finished, and Brand was back with supplies of his own. Vanessa shut off the water.

Brand tended his own morning routine alongside her, shaving himself. He must have packed his briefcase the previous day not with work items, but with the roses and a spare shirt and products for this morning - an overnight bag, put together before Vanessa even talked with him. He had known all along this was where he was going to be the next day. He had known this was where she was going to be. It made her sick.

Vanessa got out her daughter's makeup supplies and started on her foundation. She tried a little concealer on the swelling beneath her eye. It didn't seem to help much. It made it look worse, if anything, and Vanessa... she was afraid of it. She was afraid to look at it, touch it, think about it. Brand took over as she hesitated. Again, Vanessa felt herself having to trust him, having to have her looks created by him, have him staring at her coldly, closely, moving her head, painting her...

"Who's makeup is this?"

"It's... just some spare stuff of mine. Old stuff. I put it in here for guests when I bought new things," Vanessa lied. Brand almost surely knew that she had a daughter. The pictures in her house made it obvious, among other things, but somehow mentioning her aloud, saying that they were using her things at that moment to the sadist invading her life seemed dangerous. Brand was looking right at her. He paused in his work. She hastily tried to change subjects, "Where did you learn to do... all this? You don't seem the type...?"

"My mother." Brand's reply was short, curt. Despite herself, despite not wanting to have to know or care about anything related to Brand beyond booting him out of her life, Vanessa's perfunctory question, her attempted redirection raised more questions in her mind. Brand didn't seem to want to expound on his answer, though, and Vanessa kept her mouth shut, quietly letting him work.

Finally, after allowing her to apply her own brown lipstick, Brand was done. Vanessa looked in the mirror. She saw her old self again... except for her eyes - one visibly damaged, the other... also damaged. Not on the surface, but deep within, where it shone to her soul. Vanessa started in on her hair routine, relaxing and styling it, before wrapping a towel around her nudity and walking away to dress herself.

That didn't happen. Brand dressed her too. Vanessa felt increasingly like his doll, his plaything. He picked out an outfit that he said he liked, that he had seen her in before. It was more modest than Vanessa had initially feared when he announced he would be dressing her - a charcoal suit jacket and skirt, with a maroon blouse and matching shoes. Underneath she had a black push-up bra and no panties. Brand informed her she wouldn't need them. While his back was turned Vanessa flipped Brand off and grabbed some from the drawer anyway. She stuffed them down her shirt, feeling ridiculous, but she wasn't so far gone that she was about to spend her days with a naked vagina. Especially... especially if she got wet, like she did the previous day... like she was at that moment... she wasn't going to walk into meetings smelling like...

Anyway, she needed the protection, that extra layer. Brand couldn't keep her from wearing panties for god's sake.

Vanessa cooked them both breakfast. She liked to have protein in the morning, to keep her full, and the two ate eggs and english muffins. While she chewed mechanically, bored, Brand read her morning newspaper. The two gathered their work supplies, or whatever passed for them for Brand, and he drove her to work in her car.

Vanessa sat in the back seat, with the child locks on. Thankfully there was no one immediately in the executive garage when they arrived, no one to observe Vanessa's prisoner status.

Again, she was locked in, and had to wait for Brand to open her door for her - a twisted parody of male chivalry.