<strong>Name:</strong>Liua Rhodes<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Slave<br/><strong>Owner:</strong>Michael Cooper<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Michael's basement<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Michael<br/><br/>He dreams were a mostly peaceful retreat, punctuated e'er so often by a flash of pain that failed to rouse her.  Restrained, jostled, the side of her face a mask of congealed blood; little wonder her 'rest' was broken, interrupted by low groans.<br/><br/><em>Someone was carrying her.  Faceless, undeniably masculine and strong.  "Father?"  Her voice was reedy, tinny -- the voice of a small girl.<br/><br/>"I am sorry, Liua.  I have failed to protect you.."<br/><br/>"No, father.."<br/><br/>"Just lay here.  Lay right here."<br/><br/>And her father was gone, and her mother was beside her.  Stroking the hair from her face.  "You know what women are for."<br/><br/>"You told me, Mother.  Many times."<br/><br/>"But do you really understand..?  Here."  And Mother had taken her shirt.  Her pants.  The air was cool, so cool..  and yet the hand between her legs was so very warm.<br/><br/>"Mama..  no.."<br/><br/>"You must understand.  Do you feel it?"<br/><br/>And she could feel it.  The heat that gathered low in her belly and spread through her loins, that pooled from her to gather at the crotch of her panties.<br/><br/>"This is what men do, my dear.  And they do this."  <br/><br/>Liua groaned uncertainly, writhing as slick wetness lathed one nipple, then the next.  She writhed without successfully moving, prone to these advances.<br/><br/>She wondered what Mother was doing; if her nails were dragging through crisp pubic hairs.  Embarrassing.  "Mother..  I'm sorry, but razors are expensive."<br/><br/>"It is alright, Liua, let me touch you.."</em><br/><br/>She awoke in stages from the dream, brow beetled when arms failed to move at her command.  Her stomach rumbled, her throat burned.  Was she dying?<br/><br/>Mocha hues slowly appeared through slitted eye lids, revealing a sadist's den.  Panic seized her limbs, still leaden, but just enough to jerk at the bonds that secured her.  Spine arched as if, by that alone, she could tear herself away.<br/><br/>"Oh God, oh God..  Where am I?  Hello?  There's been some misunderstanding here!"  Her voice was laced with primal fear, gaze darted around the trove of torture and sexual devices to finally rest upon lone male.<br/><br/>"Please, please..!  I am not a slave!  You have to let me go..!"