I had just got home from work, about 10:00 pm on Friday night, and was looking forward to a long, hot bath and getting to bd. I parked my car in the carport and as I turned away, I felt myself grabbed from behind, and held by a strong arm, a hand across my mouth. A low male voice told me not to scream and not to fight, or I'd get hurt. However, the man told me that if I cooperated fully, no serious harm would come to me and he would let me go when he was finished
He asked if I understood and I nodded. Slowly he lowered his hand from my mouth and told me not to turn around and not to say anything. He told me to take off my glasses and hand them to him, which I did. He took my purse from me and put my glasses in it. He put a blindfold around my eyes and told me to kneel there in the carport. I did so.
I heard a car being opened and then closed. Then, he was back and helped me to stand. He led me a few feet, and I heard the should of a car door opening again. He helped me inside a van and told me to sit. He got in, closing the door after himself. He reminded me not to fight or resist in any way, and then he started opening my blouse. I was shivering from cold, fear, anticipation. He pushed the blouse down off my shoulders and slid it down my arms, until it was completely off. He told me to kneel, and as I did so, he unfastened my skirt and slid it down my hips, to my knees. He started peeling my pantyhose down over my hips, and then told me to lie down on my back. After I did that, he finished removing my skirt and pantyhose, leaving me lying there on my back, cold and frightened. I was thinking that I should just keep quiet and let him have sex with me, and then he'd let me go. I felt the van rocking a bit as he moved around in it. I gasped as he took my leg over to the side, and secured the rope to something, and repeated it with my left ankle. He kept talking in his low voice, reminding me that I had agreed to be cooperative and he had agreed not to hurt me - much. My wrists he bound together and ran a rope up between them, pulling me out straight. Then he put a cloth in my mouth. He told me he couldn't take any chances on my making noises. I felt him leave the van, and heard a distant car door slam. Soon I felt the weight of someone as they got into the driver's side of the van and the motor started.
I don't know how long the drive lasted. It seemed like hours, but it might only have been a few minutes. I may never know where I was taken. He played a radio low, but didn't talk to me again during the drive.
When the van stopped, so did my heart. I felt now that he was going to **** me. I heard him come around to the back of the van and open it. For a long time, I felt him staring at me. Then I heard a small "pop" and around the edges of my blindfold I saw a flash of light. He was taking pictures of me spread open, tied and helpless in his van. Then I felt his hands at my ankle, and the rope was loosened. He released my other ankle, and gently rubbed each one, restoring the circulation which had been slightly impeded. Although he released my wrists from being bound over my head, he kept them tied together as he sat me up and helped me slide out of the van. I was outside the van, nude and blindfolded, with my wrists tied in front of me and a gag in my mouth. I felt cold cement under my bare feet, but I couldn't tell if I was in a garage, or a carport, or out on a public street. I listened carefully to see if I could hear any sounds at all which might help me identify the place later. By now, he was leading me slowly. He kept walking, guiding me until we came to three cold cement steps, which we climbed, and through a door I heard him unlock and open.
I now felt a carpeted floor under my feet, and a warmer temperature, so I knew we were in a house or building of some kind. From somewhere I could hear the faint sound of a clock ticking, and I wondered how long I'd been his prisoner. Still he guided me further, and I heard another door softly open. Now he told me there were some steps, and as he went before me, helping me down the steps, I lost even the sound of the clock ticking away in the distance. After 11 steps, we were again on a flat surface and he guided me only a few feet further.
He pulled my bound wrists upward, and attached them to a rope which was already hanging down from the ceiling. Warning me not to make a sound, he pulled the cloth from my mouth, allowing me to breathe deeply and to wet my lips with my tongue. He ran his hands down my body, cupping my breasts and tweaking the nipples. Down over my belly, to my thighs, and between my thighs. Again, I heard the pop and knew he was photographing me from every angle. After awhile, he stopped touching me and photographing me, and I think he just stood there and started at me for awhile. Then he told me that he had some things to take care of, and he'd be back later. He told me not to go away. Chuckling, he left the room and I heard a door close behind him.
I didn't know if he was still in the room or if he had really gone. I didn't know if there was a window or some way he could keep me in sight. So I just stood there, with my arms over my head, trying not to cry or struggle. After a long while in total silence, I knew I couldn't take it much longer. I didn't care what the penalty might be, I tried to free myself. I had tried holding my breath, to see if I could hear other breathing in the room. So I tried to work my wrists free. It almost seemed as though the rope was stretching a bit. My wrists and my entire body, began to sweat wit the exertion of this attempt. I was able to use my arms to push my blindfold down, so I could see my surroundings. I was standing on my toes, trying to reach the knots with my teeth, trying to pull my wrists through the ropes, anything I could think of to free myself. Nothing worked. Exhausted, panting, I gave up and stood there wearily, wondering what was going to happen to me next.
Looking around, I could see that I was in a fairly large room, no windows, only one door. The walls and floor were covered with soft beige/gold carpeting. There was a fireplace and in front of it a large comfortable looking chair. So far, so good. Then I looked behind me. In one corner of the room was what looked like a jail cell, or a cage. It was about four or five feet square, and about six feet high. Black iron bars. On the wall near it I saw an assortment of whips, belts, leather straps which I later learned where collars and cuffs of all sizes and types, blindfolds, handcuffs, and many more items. I'd already figured out this guy wasn't just going to **** me and let me go. But now I was really terrified.
Again, I began to struggle, to try to free myself. My wrists were beginning to be sc****d and bruised from trying to get loose. I wasn't concerned about my wrists. I was frightened that if I didn't get away, this guy might really hurt me or even kill me. After totally exhausting myself, I finally gave up and just stood there, waiting for whatever was going to happen to happen.
Odd though it sounds, I may have actually dozed off for a few minutes, when I felt a slight draft and heard the soft sound of a door closing. Startled, I looked up, right into the face of my captor. Since I didn't have my glasses on, I couldn't see very well. I could see he was tall, with dark hair and a mustache. And he was grinning! Alarmed, I realized that he would know that I had defied his warning not to struggle, since obviously, my wrists were red and raw, and my blindfold had been pushed down around my neck. He approached, and with arms crossed across his chest, he looked me up and down in an appraising way.
He told me that he had been watching me for the past three hours on a remote video display, and that my struggles had been recorded for posterity on a video tape. He said that everyone has to have a chance to try to escape and realize it is futile. Once it is "out of your system" he said, a captive becomes much more eager to please and more resigned to the situation.
Now he told me that he had a few rules that we were going to discuss. He said he had done this many, many times before, and that I was not going to get away. He promised that if I was obedient and pleasing to him, he would release me after 48 hours. If, however, I was disobedient or failed to please him in any way, my captivity would continue indefinitely.
The first rule was that I was not speak unless asked a question or told to speak, and that I was not to ask him anything about himself - his name, occupation, age, NOTHING.
The second rule was that I had to know that for the next 48 hours, everything I said and did would be recorded and video taped. I would have to be cooperative and eager to please in every way. I would be expected to answer any questions fully and without hesitation, and I would be required to actively participate in the activities in which I would be involved for the next two days.
He told me that now he was going to untie my hands, and I would be given a chance to shower and make myself presentable. After he freed my hands, I rubbed them and he walked over to a door I hadn't previously noticed, and opened it. Inside was a full bathroom, with a shower and a sunken tub, a toilet, a washbasin, etc. He pointed out a new toothbrush, still in its package, and toothpaste, my favorite brand. I wondered if it was a coincidence, or if he somehow knew what I liked. On the dressing table was a hairbrush, cosmetics, even my favorite cologne. By now I was beginning to suspect that this man knew more about me than I could have imagined. He told me to shower, and get totally cleaned up for him, inside and out. He pointed out a razor and told me to shave completely for him - underarms, legs, and pubic areas. He told me he expected me to douche, as well, and I saw the disposable douch sitting by the tub. I waited for him to leave the bathroom so that I could do these things, but he told me to commence immediately - that he was going to watch. Still, I stood there, hesitant. He asked what I was waiting for. I asked him if he could leave for just a minute, so I could use the toilet. He reminded me that for the next 48 hours, I was going to be on display totally, and told me to use it with him there. I couldn't do that. He told me to SIT!, so I sat on the toilet. I just couldn't pee with him watching. He told me to either do it or be aware that 48 hours could become indefinite. I sat there embarrassed and miserable, and finally, after a long time, it began to trickle out, then become a deafening steady stream. Finished, I wiped myself dry and stood up, flushing the toilet.
Now I stepped into the shower and began to wash, first shampooing my hair, and then soaping my body. I shaved carefully under my arms and my legs, and then, feeling his eyes on me, I began to cautiously shave between my legs. Lathering, shaving, rinsing, and repeating this until the area between my legs was as smooth and bare as a baby's cheek. Finally, reaching for the douche, I placed the nozzle deep inside me and began the process of cleansing my body's inner secretions. After that, while still in the shower, I brushed my teeth and turned the shower off. He was standing there, leaning against a wall, watching me. As I wrapped a towel around my head and stepped out of the shower, drying my body, I began to feel almost relaxed. I began to realize that I had no life other than this, for the next few hours. I had no responsibilities but to obey my captor. I had no decisions or worries except how to please this man who owned me for this period of time. I knew I could hide nothing from this man, either physical or mental, and I knew I would have no privacy, no barriers, no walls between us. What a strange feeling it is to know that someone else has complete control over you, and responsilbity for you. Almost, I felt more free than at any other time in my life. I was free to just feel, and experience, without having to make decisions or observe rules of propriety and social behavior.
He continued to watch as I brushed my hair and briefly used a blowdryer and curling iron (how thoughtfully he had provided these items) on it. Sparingly, I applied cosmetics, and at his instruction, put them on a bit more heavily than I would have ordinarily. I applied blusher and eye shadow and lipstick more vividly than usual, and I noticed in the mirror that I seemed to be sparkling. How strange. I don't usually wear much make up at all, and I never realized how attractive I could be with it on. Smiling, he handed me a large pair of silver hoop earrings and I placed them in my ears. I sprayed a little cologne on my wrists, and dabbed it behind my ears and my knees. Finished, I turned from the mirror and faced him, my eyes lowered, waiting his approval. "You're beautiful" he whispered, and lifting my chin with his hand, he kissed me and put his arms around me. I felt drawn into him like a breath, and knew that whatever he wanted, I would do, not because I was scared, but because I felt he knew me inside and out, and that I belonged to him.
We went out into the larger room, and he led me over to the chair by the fireplace. With his hands pressing my shoulders, I sank to the floor by the chair, sitting with my legs tucked under me, resting on my hands, while he lit the fireplace. He came over and sat down on the chair, and took both my hands in his. Gently he began to rub lotion into my tender, swollen wrists. He told me that I would not always like the things he did to me, or the things he required me to do. He said that was not important. He told me that I didn't have to like it - but I had to do it. No arguments, no hesitation, no resistance. Just obedience and service was all that was expected of me. He put a wide leather collar around my throat, and placed similar leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles, and told me that wearing these was an outward show of my wish to obey and please him.
Warm, in front of the fire, my eyes grew heavy and I began to be afraid that I was going to fall asl**p. He noticed this and led me over to the cell in the corner. Telling me to get down on my knees, he pointed into the cell and told me to enter and lie down. I crawled into it on my hands and knees. It wasn't big enough for me to fully lie down, so I had to sort of curl a little. He tossed a soft blanket into the cell and told me to sl**p a while, and he closed the door with a clang and went back to his chair by the fireplace. sl**pily I watched him for a moment, before I fell into a dreamless, exhausted sl**p.
I was awakened some time later by the squeaking of the cell door as it opened. He told me to get on my hands and knees and crawl out. Once out, he told me to crawl to the bathroom and make myself presentable. I crawled over to the bathroom, but this time he didn't follow me in. I used the toilet and washed up, cleaning last night's slightly smeared make up from my face. I wondered why he hadn't made any sexual use of me at all, perhaps he was homosexual, or maybe I didn't turn him on. The thought that I might not be attractive to him caused a strange sort of pain to me. I wanted him to want me. I know it sounds bizarre, but I wanted him to find me attractive and sexually stimulating. I wanted to feel his hands and his lips on me, and to feel him inside me. Brushing my teeth and hair, I hurried back out to join him in front of the fire place. Now there was a small table set out, with a coffee pot, blueberry muffins, and little sausages on it. Without him telling me to, I knelt by his chair and placed my head against his knee. I noticed a dish, like a pet's drinking bowl, in front of the fireplace, near his feet. It seemed to be filled with coffee. He noticed my look and told me to have a drink. Shy, embarrassed, but curious, I knelt and holding my hair, I cautiously sipped. It was hot coffee, creamy and sweet, just the way I like it! Astonished, I turned to face him and he was holding out a piece of blueberry muffin. As I started to reach for it, he told me to open my mouth. He fed me bit by bit, blueberry muffins and little pieces of sausage, allowing me to sip my coffee from the dish, until I had eaten a filling breakfast. He was talking to me, telling me I was like a pet, and that he was going to train me to be a good little pet.
He told me to stand in front of him, with my legs apart, and my hands behind my head. He leaned forward and taking my breast in his mouth, he sucked and licked until my nipple was standing out hard and throbbing. Turning to the other breast, he repeated the process, until I felt I could not stand still another instant. He placed of his hands behind me, in my lower back, and slid the other between my legs, as he was sucking on my breasts. His fingers, first one, then two, then three, slid into me. I felt my wetness and knew I was stretching open to meet his entire hand as it slipped inside me. He stood up, keeping his hand inside me, and as he looked down at me, quivering and arching toward him, he asked me what I wanted. "Please make love to me," I begged, rubbing against his hand. He told me that wasn't the way to ask. He said "making love" was not what I wanted, and asked me again what I really wanted. "I want to be fucked" I breathed. "Please fuck me." Chuckling, he withdrew his hand and smeared my juices across my breasts before holding his fingers in front of my mouth. "Lick them clean" he commanded.
"So, you want me to fuck you," he said. "How much do you want it?" "Very much", I whispered; "I'll do anything." He reminded me that I had already promised to do anything for him, anyway, and that he would fuck me when he was in the mood. In the meantime, he said, I should show him how much I wanted to please him. Opening his robe, he pulled out his hard, thick cock, and told me to kiss it. I knelt and with my hands still behind my head, I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock. There was a little drop of fluid on it, and I licked it off with my tongue. He asked me if I wanted to suck it and I nodded. He told me I could use my hands to hold it, and that if I really wanted to suck it, I should beg nicely. I begged him to please let me suck his beautiful cock. He said he would, but that when he came, I would have to drink every drop and swallow it. Ifi even one drop escaped my mouth, he would never touch me again. I promised to be very careful and to catch all of his cum. He leaned back and told me I could now suck and lick him. I began by kissing it up and down, running my tongue down the base of his cock, across his balls, and back up to the tip of his cock. Licking it, I took the tip into my mouth and began to suck on it slowly and deeply, caressing his balls with my hands. I was concentrating on pleasing him and making him want me. Gradually, I noticed his breathing was getting a bit more rapid, and he was moving his hips to increase the depth and speed of his cock's penetration of my mouth. I increased my own attention to his cock, and his hands went around my head, pushing my head up and down. Now I was not sucking his cock - he was fucking my mouth! I was helpless to do anything but hope that I could handle it all when he climaxed. With almost no warning, I suddenly felt him explode in my mouth. Swallowing rapidly, I tried not to taste it, or to think about what was going down my throat. I just tried to keep up with his thrusts and the fluids bursting into my mouth and throat. Finally, he was finished. His hands relaxed from my head, and his cock began to shrink and withdraw.
Leaning my head against his thigh and felt him stroke my hair. I was still very turned on from his hands, earlier, and I now hoped he would make me cum. Silently, I prayed for him to begin touching me, but I couldn't ask for it because he had not given me permission to speak. I rubbed my breasts against his leg, and arched my body towards his hand, but he just kept absently rubbing my hair. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me and smiled. Patting my cheek, he said that he had some errands to run, and would have to leave me for a while. Standing, he took my hand and helped me to stand. He led me to the wall near the cell, where I had already noticed several objects hanging. He took my leather bound wrist and pulled it up toward a chain dangling from the wall. I noticed for the first time that there was a small metal ring on the cuff, and I watched as he clipped that wrist to the chain on the wall. Turning me around to face the wall, he pulled my other wrist several feet over, and clipped that one to a similar chain. I was facing the wall, my breasts pressed up against the gold carpet fabric, as he pulled my feet apart and chained them, also.
I turned my head and watch as he selected what appeared to be a belt from the things hanging on the wall. He strapped it around my waist, and then turned and selected a vibrator. He pushed this vibrator up inside me, turned it on, then strapped a portion of the belt between my legs, evidently to keep the vibrator inserted. I began to squirm a bit from the tingling sensations the vibrator was producing, and he patted me on my bottom, kissed the back of my neck and said, "Good bye. I'll see you later". The vibrator felt so good at first. Then, as I strained to rub my clit against the leather between my legs, I couldn't quite climax. I try, but he had left me helpless do do anything but accept these stimulations. After a while, I got so frustrated that I almost start to cry. I kept thinking he'd come back in any moment, and he'd take me down and make me cum. But the time drags on and on, and still he didn't come back. Gradually, the vibrations seemed to become more distant, almost as though I had grown accustomed, or desensitized to them. Not quite numb, but not as responsive to them as I was at first. I drift in and out of a stupor, not quite asl**p, but not fully awake. Time stands still, and I no longer wait eagerly for him to return and sexually satisfy me. I now just wait for him to return to use me any way he will.
I have lost track of all time and don't know whether it is day or night. The softly lighted room doesn't give any clue as to time or day. I could have been here for hours, or for days. I don't know anymore. I have only his word for it that my 48 hours is not up yet. Maybe he won't release me after 48 hours. Already, it seems as though I have had no existence prior to this, and that I won't have any existence after he is through with me. I don't know any reality but this.
Suddenly, without warning, he is there, releasing my ankles and my wrists from their bondage. Unable to stand, I slump against him and feel him ease me down to the soft, carpeted floor. He removes the belt from between my legs and around my waist, and takes the vibrator out of me. Smiling, he brushes the hair back from my face and asks if I've missed him. I nod, unable to speak as he caresses my face and runs his hands over my body. I am trembling, and I realize that my body is responding to his touch in a most shameless way. I want to beg him to fuck me, but I can't speak. Without consciously deciding to do so, I part my legs and open myself up to his gaze and his touch. He gently touches my clit, which causes me to jump, I am so sensitive by now. Laughing softly, he inserts a finger into me, asking "Is this what you want?" Again, I nod, clenching my internal muscles tightly around his finger, and rubbing against his hand. He begins to move his fingers in and out of me rhythmically, building my desire higher and higher, until I am gasping, writhing, ready to climax. Just as I approach climax, he withdraws his hand. I whimper in protest, and grab his hand, trying to place it back within me. He just shakes me off and tells me to lie still. I have given my promise that I will be obedient, so I lie still, aching and throbbing and wanting to be satisfied. I promise myself that at the earliest opportunity, I will satisfy myself. Who needs him?
He must have read my mind, or perhaps he interpreted the secret look which may have been in my eyes. He asked if I wanted to climax. I nodded, smiling hopefully. He told me that if I really wanted to climax, I would have to be very obedient. First, he said, I would have to get on my hands and knees and crawl to the center of the room. Immediately I obeyed his instruction. Now, he said, lie on my back with my legs spread, which I did. He told me to start touching myself, beginning with my breasts, and continuing down to my things and pussy. I stared at him, not believing what he was saying. He wanted me to touch myself, in front of him, knowing that somewhere a concealed camera was recording this.
In a stern voice, he commanded, "NOW!" and I shyly, hesitantly started caressing my breasts, moving my hands slowly down my ribs, across my stomach, down my thighs, my inner thighs, to that hidden, moist part of me. As I hesitated, he commanded, "DO IT!", and I began slow, circular rubbing motions on my clit, and ran my fingertips over those soft, smooth lips. I began to be very very turned on, and soon it didn't seem to matter that he was watching me. I grew more and more heated, closer to climax, and he watched me more intently. Soon, his watching me seemed to increase my excitement, and I felt myself open up to him even more. I held the lips open with one hand, while my fingers played over my clit and slid inside myself, pumping in and out with increasing fervor. Closer and closer I came to climax, and he knew it. Lying there, with my legs open and my back arched, I played with myself for his entertainment. Gasping, I came, and after a few minutes, or an eternity, I lay quietly, exhausted and released in a way I had never known before.
He came over and knelt on the carpet in front of me, parting my legs, and bending over, he began to lick and tongue my sensitive clit. Gently, he stimulated and thrilled me with his knowledgeable tongue, rearousing my desire and bringing me again to the brink of climax. With one swift, smooth motion, he lifted himself onto me, and slid his cock deep inside me, stretching me and filling me up. Slowly, steadily, he began to slide in and out of me with hat hard, pulsating cock, and my body began to pump in rhythm with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and using my hands to cling to his shoulders, I raised my hips off the floor in order to take every inch of him deep inside me. I looked up, into his amused eyes, as he took my breath away with his skilled movements. Faster and faster we began to move, as he slid even deeper into me. We were both sweating and panting, as he increased the rhythm even more. Suddenly, he grew harder, bigger in me. With a sudden tensing of his back I felt an explosion of hot, fiery liquid fill me. As he kept pumping away, I began to cum. Crying, my inner barriers totally destroyed, I screamed, "I love you" to this stranger who was holding me captive. We lay there on the floor for a few moments longer, with him still inside me, and holding me, while my breathing calmed and my body relaxed. I looked up and whispered into his chest, "I love you". He looked down and sort of smiled. "You'll be punished for speaking without permission," he said. Although he spoke softly, he had a look on his face that told me he meant it. I shuddered as I wondered what he could have in mind for my punishment.
After a short time, he crawled up and putting his wet, sticky cock into my mouth, told me to lick it clean. I don't like the taste or the smell of cum, yet I did as he wished. I no longer feared that the captivity would last forever - I worried that I might displease him and he would set me free! I had already displeased him by speaking without permission.
Standing up, he bent and helped me to my feet. Leading me over to the cell, he pushed me against it and using handcuffs, cuffed my hands to different bars, stretching me across the cell. He went to his wall of devices, and took down a sort of whip, with several strands of leather which all braided into a handle. He brought the whip over and gently, softly brushed it against my face, down across my breasts, around on my back, down to my bottom. As the whip caressed me gently, he spoke to me, telling me that since this was my first disobedience, the punishment would be slight. He told me to close my eyes and keep them closed until he gave me permission to open them. Frightened, I did as he commanded. I felt him withdraw from me, and I stood there, with my arms extended, shivering from both fear and cold. He told me to open my legs. He said that no matter what, I had to keep them open, and that if I closed them, I was immediately to resume the position with them open. I spread my legs wider, and felt the tension in my arms increase as they were pulled even farther because of this shift in my position. Without warning, I felt the whip strike my lower back and bottom. Several distinct, separate stings indicated that many of the strands had hit in different areas at once. I squirmed and cried out, closing my legs and pressing against the cold bars of the cell as I tried to overcome the pain.
His hand pulling my head back was accompanied by his voice, harshly commanding me to resume my position. Shuddering, I once again stood straight, with my legs spread. Another slash of the whip, this time across my bottom so that the tips of the strands wrapped around my body to sting my abdomen. Again, I writhed against the bars and again was commanded to stand up.
Again and again his whip struck my body, sometimes hitting new flesh, sometimes hitting welts which were already raising across my body. He whipped my upper back, and the strands wound around me to my breasts. He seemed to favor my inner thighs and often aimed it between my legs. Even though I knew pain and felt the harshness of the whip, I sensed that he was not striking me as hard as he might have. I felt that he was not using full strength, and I was thankful. He measured out the strokes, sometimes slowly, with several long minutes between each stroke, sometimes two or three or more one right after the other, without giving me a chance to catch my breath.
I was crying, sobbing, with pain and humiliation, as well as with the knowledge that I meant nothing to him. How could he whip me if he loved me as I had thought I loved him? And, since I had told him that I loved him, and since he had been so gentle with me didn't that mean he must love me, too.