Ariel knew he’d been watching her; he had to have been, all the way from the garage on that stretch of country road when she’d turned off the main motorway in search of a full tank. It had been her own fault not filling up at the start of her journey but she was impatient and hadn’t wanted to queue. She was almost half way back to college when the car started to protest, the needle showing her petrol tank was almost empty. The cop on the motorbike had pulled her over as soon as she hit seventy on the country road in her haste to get back to civilisation.

“Been a naughty girl, haven’t we?” he remarked as he tipped up the visor of his helmet. His eyes were grey, piercing and stormy, his nose sharp, and from what she could see of his features in the opening he was angular and hawkish, dark stubble coating his cheeks and chin.

“I only just hit the pedal, can’t you let it go just this once officer, I’m in something of a hurry?” she smiled at him, using her sexuality, tossing back her dark hair and straightening her back against the drivers seat, the swell of her small perky breasts pushing open the loose button on her blouse that gave her a modicum of modesty. The sight of a little cleavage, a flash of some leg and a pretty smile had got her out of trouble before, she wasn’t afraid to use it to her advantage.

“Let you go,” his eyes slid down, assessing. “No, I don’t think so. You’ll follow me.”

The building was small and remote; there were two cells inside and several rooms off the main area. It looked deserted and she couldn’t help wonder where the rest of the staff were. He parked up the bike and tugged off the helmet, there was a masculinity about him that was quite unnerving and Ariel found herself shivering as she watched him move with the casual ease of a predator. He came to the car and opened the door, holding his hand for the paperwork she proffered as she slid a leg out, her skirt hitched up to her thigh.

“If you could just tell me about my fine, I’ll give you a cheque and be on my way,” she suggested with that same slow, seductive smile.

“This way,” he glanced down at her paperwork and gave a slight nod. “Ariel.”

She hesitated at the entrance to the cell he held open for her. She really didn’t have time for this but his expression was uncompromising as he stood watching her, arms folded over his chest. She stepped inside and the door closed with an ominous clang, the key clicking in the lock. He took her paperwork to a desk and placed it in the drawer closing it firmly.

“How long are you going to keep here?” she demanded to know, tossing her hair once more, haughty and impatient.

“Until you submit.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that your little game got turned back on you, if you think flashing your tits will get you out of trouble, why don’t you go the whole way and strip?”

“You must be out of your …. HELP!”

“There is no one to hear you, Ariel, but feel free to scream until you get tired of it, if it makes you feel better. I’ll tell you if it grates on my nerves enough for me to want you to stop.”

Ariel obliged and screamed her head off for several hours, until her voice grew hoarse and she was tired of yelling, in fact just plain tired. She sat in the corner of her cell and sulked, then slept curled up on the low bunk without deigning to speak to him again. Her stomach groaned for her next morning, it growled with hunger. She realised that she hadn’t been offered a meal and she rattled the bars, shouting to get his attention.

“I’m hungry.”

“I’m sure you are but you are still wearing your clothes.”

“You can’t be serious.”


Ariel wasn’t ashamed of her body, far from it, she was lithe and slim with small nicely shaped tits and a firm little arse, so she decided to brazen it out. “Fine.”

She peeled off her blouse and stepped out of her skirt, challenging him with her chocolate eyes as she stood there in her lacy bra and panties and a pair of pull up stockings. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled at her. He reminded of her a cat playing with its food and as he shook his head, lifting a pre-packed sandwich from the table and dangling it in front of her, she slowly peeled off her bra, the swell of her small breasts bouncing free, her large, puckered nipples tightening in the chill air. Her panties were next, and she peeled them down, a slight frown as she felt herself wet. Well at least he couldn’t see it yet, not unless it coated her thighs and glistened but she was aware that his nostrils flared slightly and he laughed.

“You can leave the stockings, they look cute, the rest, through the bars,” he told her.

“This is ridiculous,” she stated bitterly, doing as he told her to and grabbing the sandwich which was tossed her way. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I can, and because of David. You need to be reigned in girl.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. This was more than a chance meeting on the highway, this was planned. David was a lad at school she’d been involved with, he’d fallen for her big time and she’d fucked him over, hard. David had ended up having a breakdown, she hadn’t been entirely responsible but she hadn’t helped. She’d used information from pillow talk to get in with the cool crowd while ruining his place in the group and alienating his friends. “It wasn’t my fault, he was weak.”

She remembered something now, something about David having a sibling. She hadn't heard he was a cop but had heard he was something of a black sheep. The situation began to fall into place in her mind. At least now she had something she could go to the authorities with, if she ever got out of here. She was suddenly very afraid but she had already decided if he wanted to kill her he would have already.

“David was weak,” she repeated defiantly.

“Maybe, but I’m not.”

During the days that followed he used food to control her, if she didn’t do what he said, she went hungry. At first it was just little things like sitting a certain way or performing some simple task. Sometimes he gave her a bucket and made her wash herself intimately while he looked on, slipping soapy fingers over her body, stroking deep into her cunt lips and then tipping the freezing water all over her body to rinse off. It was surprising how compliant she became with an empty belly. She had no privacy, no dignity, it was all stripped from her. She had to piss and shit in a bucket, under the steely indifference of his gaze.

She was appalled when he first made her masturbate like some sort of trained seal. She felt her face glow scarlet as she knelt before him in the cage, her thighs spread and her ass resting on her heels as he’d instructed her and slipped her hands over her small breasts, twisting and tugging the nipples that were already erect like hard, aching nubs. “Please, don’t make me do this,” she whimpered as he commanded her hands lower but he would not compromise. He demanded absolute obedience and she found herself giving it, sliding her fingertips over her soaked cunt and plunging her fingers deep inside herself, the edge of her thumb stroking and plucking at her clitty until she was writhing with pleasure. She lifted her eyes to him, wretched and ashamed, and he smiled.

“Cum, bitch,” he said.
The spasms rocked her aching, throbbing body and her hips lifted towards him with a will of their own, as if begging him to fuck her, but he did not, he simply left her there, laying in torn stockings on the cold floor of the cell where she was imprisoned. She was humiliated as she lay there but was strangely exhilarated too, she found herself thinking about it, about performing for him and she became intensely aroused once more.

He never raised a hand or even his voice to her, he used strength of will and he had that in abundance. After the first week he didn’t even have to use food to make her do what he wanted, she was becoming compelled by the even timbre of his voice and his calm presence. The more often he made her perform sexually while he watched, the easier it became until she did it quite naturally, parting her thighs whenever he looked her way, her pupils dilating, her breath quickening, the swell of her small, perky breasts heaving in her excitement under his gaze. She was often shocked at herself, shocked by some base nature that was awakening deep inside her. She became intoxicated by her sexual arousal; she started to beg him to perform for him, and beg to perform sexual favours for him. “Please,” she said. “Let me cum for you before you feed me, let me suck You, I’ll be good, You’ll like it.”

But he wouldn’t touch her, he merely watched, calm. “No.”

“Please, I need your hard cock driving in me, let me take it in my mouth, I’ll please you. I’ll do anything you want.”


“I hate you!” she’d scream. “I hate you! Please, please fuck me.”

“No, you aren’t worthy of my cock.”

“I’ll do anything, be anything you want me to be, please.”

But he was immune to her begging, to her need, to her desperation. Ariel was not herself any more, she still had the intelligence to recognise that something within was changing, had changed. She needed him, needed more from him than he was allowing her in her captivity. He consumed her in ways she had never dreamed or expected that a man could. She was eating from his hand, begging him to cum constantly and she no longer thought about her freedom, she no longer wished to be free. She was obsessed with him, craned her neck from the moment he left until he would return to hear the rev of his bike, the sound of his boots on the gravel outside. She craved him, longed for him, and loved him.

“What are you?” he asked her one morning, after she’d eaten dry bread from his fingers through the bars.

“A slave, your slave,” Ariel whispered.

“Who am I?” he asked.

She hesitated and then said the first thing that came into her head, the thing which felt the most natural. “You are my Master.”


Ariel sat numb when he unlocked the cage. It was the last thing she’d been expecting and she was suddenly afraid. She did not move at first, merely sat there watching him with hungry eyes but then an exhilarated panic washed over her and she crawled to him, crawled to his booted feet and rubbed her slick, wet cunt against the toe of his boots, arching her body, thrusting out her breasts and offering herself like a willing, eager whore for his touch.

“Is it today, will you fuck me today, Master?” she begged him. “Please, I need you.”

“You are free to go.”

“What ..? But, no, no, please, Master, I don’t want to go free, I want to be yours.”

“I know, bitch,” he smiled. “But I do not want you. Perhaps David will use you for old time sakes, when he gets out of the hospital. If you beg him pretty.”

“PLEASE Master!” she screamed.

She shrieked and wailed, her body was shaking violently and she simply could not believe his words, she was conditioned, she was his. She was a throbbing, vital, needy cunt and she could not function without this man. She belonged to him now, was completely dependent upon him because he had given her no choice. But he just smiled, climbed onto his bike and rode away, leaving her there naked with her car keys to find her own way when all she wanted to follow him on a leash. Ariel crawled back into her cage, the door wide open and wept.

by Amanda

Call me or my roomie Sian for a hot phone fuck.

86% (11/2)
Categories: BDSMFetishTaboo
Posted by amandacallsex
1 year ago    Views: 1,701
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1 year ago
Fantastic story
1 year ago
I love it
1 year ago
very good
1 year ago