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Barbara continues her education from Mistress Raven.

There was the black car! Was he in it? She couldn't really tell - the lighting was dim and ... there he was walking across the street to his car. What had he been doing on her side of the street? He glanced back over his shoulder and his wicked black eyes met Auderine's.

She gasped and fell back against the wall beside the window, her chest heaving now, nipples taut from the chance encounter. She was trembling and frightened for some reason, goose bumps rising on her flesh. Who was he? She knew she would never get back to sleep now, not after seeing him right outside. She went to the bathroom and took a quick warm shower to relax her and then made her way back to bed, sleeping fitfully for an hour or so, dreaming of the man in the black car and his wicked eyes.

Auderine's eyes fluttered open and she sat upright, enveloped in the velvet darkness of her bedroom. Something was not right, she knew. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw him sitting in the corner of her room in a high - backed wing chair. "I've got to be dreaming," she thought, and rubbed her eyes. Still, he sat there staring at her, his eyes cutting through the darkness.

"W-what do you . . . w-who are y-you?" He heard the fear in her voice.

"Ah, ma Cherie," he drawled sweetly, "I see you are afraid. Good, be afraid - you should be. As for my name, you may address me 'my lord.' I am here to give you a lesson about your vanity; teach you about your pride. Pride is one of the seven deadly sins, you know." His deep whisper held a hint of French, and also a tinge of sincere passion. Still, Auderine trembled, her eyes wide with fear.

The man rose and began moving toward her slowly, as if he knew she would not try to escape him. She saw now he was powerfully built his shoulders broad and his thighs heavily muscled. He wore well fitting black slacks and a dove gray dress shirt - open at the collar, showing his thick neck. He had very dark features, although he was quite fair. There seemed to be a constant shadow over his face, obscuring his features. Only his dark luminescent eyes were clear; almost silver, Auderine thought.

He reached her side and gently laid his hand on her shoulder, his long fingers stroking her silken flesh. It was then that Auderine recalled her nakedness, and moved to cover herself.

"Nay, ma Cherie," he said, " do not be so proud as to deny me your flesh." At his words, Auderine dropped the sheet she had been clutching to her creamy breasts.

As if she were in a trance, she allowed him to lift her to her knees on the bed =, and to draw her against him. Her nipples became painfully erect as they rubbed against the stiff material of his shirt. She could feel his manhood gently pressing against her shaven mound and could tell he was not hard. She could not bring her eyes to meet his until he lifted her chin with a finger. Still, his face was shadowed though she was but an inch from his face. He ran a smooth fingertip over her lips and then kissed her lightly on the lips. The trance ended and Auderine began her struggle, kicking and writhing, screaming and crying, biting and finally, begging.

She was trussed spread eagle on her bed, bound by strips of her torn satin shift. She writhed in defiance, attempting escape, but it was impossible. The man raised her abdomen and supported it with pillows from beneath, then drew her legs farther apart and painfully bound then to the wooded bedpost.

Cheeks flushed, and breathing heavily Auderine closed her eyes against the scene.

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