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“I intend to keep you as a pet.  You are a very good fuck.  About the best I ever had. 
That body… And the way you move…  How tight you are…  You are all a man could ever want. 
All I could want.  I shall find much pleasure in keeping you as a prisoner.”

“For how long?”  She was hoping he might have only a short time in mind.

“How long?  As long as you are still sexy.  As long as you are still fun to tightly bind
and torment.  Have you ever been whipped?”

The last question took her off guard.  Suddenly he was introducing a new element –
sadism.  He would not be content with just keeping her a prisoner and screwing her when he
felt like it.  He was going to hurt her.  She knew it deep inside.  She had known many men
and knew those who liked to hurt a woman.  As with keeping them tied up, it created an
almost overpowering sense of power.  To not only control a woman, but also to inflict pain
was a powerful aphrodisiac.

She also knew much more about the psychology of the whole domination/submission scene. 
She was not all that much into it but had many experiences with people who took it to
heart.  Bondage was just one tool of those people, not a wonderful end in itself the way
Stella felt about it.  So she asked him, “Do I call you ‘Master’?  And you call me
‘slave’?”

He tilted his head back and laughed.  “Oh, you are a good one!  Yes, call me Master if
you want.  Or don’t.  I don’t care.  I am your Master, your owner.  Simple words spoken or
not spoken will not change that.  It is ropes and chains and handcuffs and locks that make
me the Master over you.  Think of yourself as a ‘slave’; it may help you come to accept
your new life.  Or don’t.  Fight me all you can, that is okay with me.  In fact, I would
rather you did.  Makes owning and training you all the more of a challenge and much more
satisfying in the end.”

Stella bowed her head, not in submission but in defeat.  She was losing this word game,
just as she had lost her freedom.  She would fight him; they both knew that.  She vowed to
herself never to give in to the man.  He might have her body and would use or abuse it as
he wished, but he would never have her mind.

Still, she knew something about this kind of man.  He would sexually use her, and would
cause her pain at times.  He might call it ‘punishment’ for some imagined misdeed or for
no reason.  But he would do it.  There was nothing she could do about that.  But… And this
was a big ‘but’: she need not antagonize him.  Do not give him reason to inflict more pain
than he would otherwise.  Be meek and submissive.  Survive and keep your eyes open for a
chance to strike out and run.

Good advice.  She hoped she could adhere to it.

Strangely, as she sat there, heavily shackled, she found the sweet smell of his pipe
tobacco pleasing.  It reminded her of some boys back in college who thought it made them
look more academic if they smoked a pipe.

“My men will now take you to your room,” he continued.  “I had it fixed up just like a
prison cell.  I’m sure you will like it.  It is escape-proof.  Which is good, because it
is not really practical to keep you chained up like this every minute of the day, now is
it?”

She said nothing.  A few moments later the two henchmen picked her up and carried off to
a life of imprisonment.