Kindred Spirit Lodge Presents
Dalton the Dark
Dungeon
by Lord Nessa
November 1st, 2002
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Rena crawled through the brush on already scraped and bleeding knees. Her clothes hung from her small body in tatters. Panic was all that kept her moving through the thick forest underbrush. Yesterday she ate all that was left of her bread and cheese. She squeezed the last drops of water from the wineskin into her mouth hours ago. She needed to find water, shelter, warmth, food and rest… soon. Any one of these things would serve to buoy her sinking spirit.
This was not the first time Rena attempted to escape from the dark castle on the Guden River. It was warmer those other times and still, she was caught and returned. The terrain of Northern Denmark was rough and difficult to navigate if one had a horse and supplies. A nineteen year old girl, on foot, barely clothed, without direction and without food or water had little chance of stumbling upon a village, let alone making it all the way to her home in Hellsingor. Yet Rena had to try. Even with the odds of not surviving that she faced now, she felt sure that death in the arms of wild nature was preferable to life in the arms of the cruel Dalton.
Rena landed in Dalton’s bed after those slate colored eyes spotted her cleaning in the great hall of the castle. She went from serving girl to bed wench with a flash of sweet cleavage and a blindingly bright smile. Rena learned to expect pain with sex from that first night with the woman known as Dalton the Dark. Other than the times when she was made to kneel, naked on the cold stone floor for hours to await the sting of the strap; or the times she was laid over the edge of the big feather bed, feet kicked apart to spread her wide and ready for the excruciating invasion of her anal opening; or the times when she was slapped around the room until she was dizzy; or any variation of this harsh treatment… other than these times, Rena thought she could love Dalton and accept the cruelties that came with that place in the life of the dark landowner.
It was something else that drove the young servant to put every inch of distance possible between her and Dalton. It was the madness in the dark one which was borne of loss and a hideous childhood. Rena tried, but no amount of reasoning, denial or love would heal it. The girl never knew when to expect the possessive beast to come stalking. When it did, she endured the terror, the torment and the heartache of feeling the hatred that poured forth from the dark Dalton.
Dalton regressed at these times. Rena became the unfortunate object of revenge fantasies that Dalton held for Hergis, the cruel mistress of the bonding house where children were used horribly for gold and where Dalton spent most of her childhood. The serving wench was transformed into the hated mistress in the mad hallucinations of Dalton the Dark.
Dalton crossed over into madness at thirteen, yet managed to hold on to enough reality to learn how to kill for money and then how to profit further by using often cutthroat tactics as a mercenary/entrepreneur. Thus, the ownership of land and property in the highlands of Denmark.
This time the wench was going to understand just where she belonged and just who she belonged to. The mercenary paced in front of the large fireplace. Her jaw was clenched and her hands folded into fists. Her shadow stretched long up the wall to the ceiling and danced in the firelight as the day slipped out. Dalton sent her best three men on the search. She was confident that they would bring her back soon. Her fury would not stand much more waiting.
Dalton cared about the wench as much as was possible for one with only half a heart to devote to such things. The other half was devoted to an all consuming desire for love that Dalton confused with the need for loyalty. She thought she wanted loyalty from the wench while she seethed deeply over the hidden need for the girl’s love.
There! Her men were here. She turned at the sound of their approach. Dalton was not disappointed to see the half naked, half conscious Rena held up between two of them. She walked up to the girl and grabbed a handful of hair and pulled up to see the pretty face. Sad blue eyes barely opened to meet the mercenary’s gaze. “ Why darling, you are all a mess. You shall eat and bathe before we… talk.” Dalton spoke with controlled softness. She lifted her eyes and tilted her head toward the stairs as a silent message of instruction to her men. Anticipation filled her as she watched that beautiful young body hefted roughly up the stairs.
Rena woke to the bright day. Her heart sank. She barely remembered the bath. A quick memory of rough hands on her nakedness, touching and rubbing then cool soup nearly poured down her throat. She drank, she slept, she lived and now she feared. She was in Dalton’s bed chambers and in Dalton’s bed. She was naked under the warm goose down cover. The fire roared in the stone hearth.
She tested her legs first, They lifted without strain as she threw the cover back and swung them over the bedside just in time to see the door swing open. Rena gazed at Dalton’s black boots as they stepped toward her. She could not look up into that hate-crazed face. She hoped the coming blow would end it all but knew from times passed that she would live to suffer. The boots stopped just in front of her. She waited dully.
“Stand up Rena, I want you to look at me!” Dalton contained her rage. The girl stood slowly. Her naked body trembled visibly. Pretty perky breasts jiggled slightly as a sob escaped. The sound worked on Dalton like the tip of a whip snapping against naked skin. She felt her breath quicken and her cunt gave a kick. She grabbed Rena’s face in both hands and jerked the small face up. “I told you to fucking look at me!” she growled. She wanted to teach the girl now.
Rena saw fury in the handsome face above her. She had no fight in her. She could only stand in fear and sob. “Please my lord Dalton. I was wrong to go. Please don’t… “ She lost the rest as Dalton’s open hand slapped her back down on the bed.
Dalton reached for the girl with both hands, jerking her back up by one arm and a handful of hair. She shook the crying girl and screamed. “You fucking little bitch! I’ll teach you to run from me. I’ll show you who you belong to!” She dragged Rena across the room stopping at the large chest against the wall. She shoved the girl to her knees before it. “Open it!” Rena pulled the latch and lifted the lid.
“I want the strap. Get it and bring it to me!” Dalton fired. She stepped back to the bed. She watched Rena shake and cry while doing as she was told. Something about the girl twisted at her guts. She didn’t know what it was that made this girl matter. She didn’t want her to matter. It made her even more angry when she felt that she did matter.
Rena got most of the way back to her lord, strap in hand, before she collapsed to her knees pleading. She knew this fury in Dalton but something was different. Dalton was still Dalton, not the crazed beast who called her by another name.
The dark Dane grabbed the strap from the pleading girl. “You’ll understand how to obey!” She began to whip Rena right there, screaming at her “You will be still for this if you ever want it to end!” She was in a blaze of unleashed emotion.
Rena arched and twisted with each stinging strike of the strap on her naked body. She tried so hard to be still. The thing just kept coming, delivering a new burning pain one after another. She could hear her own screams blending with Dalton’s yelling accusations. She must have been covered in welts, her body burned all over. She wailed in the misery of it, rocking back and forth on her knees when she realized that it had stopped.
Dalton stood over the girl. The strap hung from a still hand. Dark waves of hair nearly covered her face. Those slate black eyes were alive with the inner pain of the dark Dane. “You are mine” she rasped. “Now get your ass up and on the bed.”
Crawling was all Rena could manage. The bed seemed so far away. She heard the movements of her lord behind her, urging her on. Suddenly she felt an arm reaching around her waist and lifting her to the bed. She was tossed down roughly on her burning back. She felt her legs lifted up to press into her swollen breasts. She opened her eyes to see Dalton above her. “I’ll fuck you all I want bitch!” She snarled. “I’ll fucking make you love me!” she screamed and rammed the beaten girl hard up her cunt. Dalton slammed into that wailing wench hard. “I’ll make you love me, I’ll make you love me!” she cried over and over as she fucked Rena.
“I do love you Dalton!” Rena finally cried out. Dalton thrust hard one last time, howling her ecstasy with the admission of the wench beneath her.
Dalton’s lucid times were still hit and miss. She rode off toward the ocean one day and boarded a ship to another shore. Rena was left as mistress of the dark castle on the Guden River. She lived in peace and in sorrow, mourning the absence of Dalton the Dark.
As told to Nessa
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The End - 'Dalton the Dark' - by Lord Nessa