This story contains graphic depictions of sex, especially paedophilic sex. If this offends you, please do not read them or download them. Please read the subject header for info regarding story content. I am trying my best not to offend anyone, and I ask that you consider the story content as described above before you read the stories.
This is intended for adults only. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of a sexual nature, please, don't read this or download it.
If this is illegal wherever you are reading this, stop now.
I would like to explain what this story is and why I decided to write it.
A young girl is kidnapped and held prisoner. She decides to cooperate to avoid harsh punishment but eventually becomes attached and cooperates as much from desire as fear.
I won't spoil the ending, but I would like to explain some things.
This is a psychological drama. It is named after the syndrome where a captive becomes loyal to his or her captor(s). It became better known in 1976 when Patty Hearst was abducted by members of the Simbianese Liberation Army and participated in a bank holdup appearing to be as much a member as anyone else in the group. I began to wonder if the same type of psychology might not apply to some other kidnapping situations, so I tried to depict a fictional situation and see if it could be believable.
In order to accomplish that, it was necessary to build slowly. Consequently, the first chapter has very little of what I consider to be sex (unless you happen to like bondage). In the second chapter, however, there is a lot as the girl begins to develop a sense of belonging and emotional attachment to the man that kidnapped her. I have decided to call this "nonconsensual" although that may be debated.
Additionally, I have left the ending open. The girl is now advanced sexually far beyond her years and I am considering what that would do to a "normal" girl. Conceivably, this might lead to promiscuity or incest.
The point of view is unusual. The reader is the proverbial fly-on-the-wall with the added advantage of access to the girls thoughts, but not the man's. He remains mysterious to her and the reader except through his actions that speak volumes about who and what he is. I wonder what he did with the...
Well, let me know if I pulled it off.
Sitting in the dark room, Sandy struggled against the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles. With a gag in her mouth and her hands tied behind her, she made little progress, but she was a determined little girl. She could feel liquid running down the fingers of her right hand and figured she may have rubbed herself so raw that she had begun to bleed, but that didn't stop her. Perhaps the fear of another encounter with the nameless man that put her here gave her inspiration.
The only thing that could make her cry was thinking about the way things used to be. She missed her mother and father. She missed the sunshine and her friends. She missed good food. When her thoughts strayed to these things, she would cry.
The bare floor was cold on her butt and wet from her own urine. Although there was a corner she used to defecate and urinate, the room was small and the urine flowed all over the floor. The stench was getting unbearable as the urine degraded into ammonia and the quantity of feces had grown. Naked, except for the ropes and gag, she tried sleeping in a sitting position so that she would not have to lie in the stench. She finally found that if she leaned into a corner, she could rest for a while. Everything was dark and quiet.
Suddenly, a bright light shown from across the room as the door opened. It was so bright she could not even tell if there was someone standing in the doorway. She knew he was there, though. It was always him.
There was no movement or sound for a while. Then footsteps clicked across the cement floor and she felt a hand on her leg. The ties around her ankles soon loosened and the rope was removed. Nothing was said. The hand gently grabbed her arm and pulled insistently and she struggled to her feet. Her hair, once beautiful, was a scraggly mess that smelled of urine and hung down in her face obscuring her vision.
Stumbling towards the light, she thought it actually felt warm, but it wasn't sunshine. She was led from her stagnant cubicle through another room into still another. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light and she could identify bathroom fixtures. She was not angry now; just dazed, confused and fearful.
She felt the hands untying the gag and removing it, but she did not scream for fear of what he might do. Besides, she was fairly sure no one would hear. As she stood with her hands bound, naked and trembling with cold and fear, she watched as he filled the bathtub with water and tested the temperature with his hand. As he was bent over the tub, she contemplated possible actions. She could kick him, perhaps forcing his head into the wall and knocking him out. Glancing at the door, she also thought about running.
The man stood and she turned her head, but she noticed that he was also looking at the door. And then he looked her in the eyes. She looked away at nothing in particular, the tile, the floor, the grout, expecting that he would walk over to the door and close it, or hit her if he figured out what she was thinking.
Nothing happened. She did not return his gaze even after it was apparent that he would not do anything, but kept her eyes almost motionless to cover her thoughts. Her plans had not been completely blocked, but she lacked opportunity at the moment. But when the moment was right...
She felt his hand on her shoulder and pulled away towards the tub, now almost full. His hands continued to urge her from behind and she decided to go along and get into the tub.
A delicate soapy odor permeated the room and she noticed that he had added bubble bath to the water. What a curious thing! Bubble bath! She was pleased and angered at the same time. After keeping her locked in that nasty room, he had the audacity to try and make this bath "special." But, oh how she loved bubble baths! She wanted to kick him some place special to thank him.
After she had stepped into the tub, he untied her wrists. She brought her hands to her front and felt the unnatural pull on her shoulders from having been behind her for so long. Blood was caked onto her fingers on the right hand and the wrist bore abrasions that were raw and tender.
She slowly began to sit in the bath and felt the bubbles tickle her hairless pussy and the backs of her thighs before she felt the warm soothing water. She decided to lean back and hide her naked body under the bubbles, but the water stung her wrist so much that she cried out briefly. She held her wrist for a moment and swallowed her tears before she again lowered herself into the water. This time, the water stung, but she put the pain out of her mind and submerged her body as much as she could. Her legs were too long for the small tub and her knees stuck out above the water. She moved some of the bubbles to cover her knees, wanting to become invisible.
She cringed as he approached the tub with a washcloth. Although it was likely he was going to wash her, she dreaded his touch and closed her eyes to avoid seeing what he would do. She felt the water move as he moistened the cloth and then the cloth touched her shoulder. As the cloth gently rubbed her skin, she resigned herself to being washed and did not make any move to resist. She lay there as he washed her shoulders and arms. His hand behind her neck prompted her to sit up and he then washed her back. The motion of the cloth, the warm water and the gentle sounds of dripping and splashing water relaxed her despite her intent and she fought to keep alert so that she could find an opportunity to escape. She soon realized, however, that escape would have to wait for a while, and she was so tired from her lack of sleep that she allowed her captor to wash her quite passively.
She closed her eyes and kept them closed as the man washed her face. She gave no resistance as he lifted her injured wrist from the water and patted it with the washcloth.
Her brow wrinkled when the washcloth disappeared beneath the water and began to rub her stomach, but she gave no other outward sign of displeasure. Her expression did not change as the washcloth passed between her legs and gently rubbed her hairless labia and around her anus. Mentally, she had divorced the washcloth from the hand. At least, she thought, it was not his hands touching her. It was the washcloth that caressed her legs, not his hands.
His hands did touch her head as he applied shampoo and scrubbed the strands of scraggly hair, but that did not evoke any new disgust. In fact, she was glad to finally get the grunge out of her hair.
After rinsing her hair, she again felt his hand on her arm imploring her to stand with which she complied. A clean dry towel was wrapped around her shoulders and she grasped the front and held it to cover her nakedness. She stood perfectly still as she felt his hands through the towel patting her dry.
She was led through the door into a hallway and then into a large room. A large bed covered only with sheets occupied the center. The rest of the furnishings were unremarkable: a nightstand, a lamp, a chair or two, and the floor was covered with blue carpeting. There was another open door besides the entrance that led to another smaller bathroom and, most notably, there was a window. Curtains covered the window and there was no way to see outside, but she could tell it was night. That was the only way to tell the time since there were no clocks, no television, no radio, and no telephone.
She gave a little resistance when he removed her towel, but finally stood there and covered her privates with her hands. He gestured towards the bed and she slowly moved and sat down on the clean sheets. It was the softest thing she had sat on in what seemed like a very long time.
"Lie down," he ordered. It was the first time she had heard his voice. It was not gruff, as she expected, but normal. Just like anyone else's. She sighed and lay on her back with her knees bent and her hands still covering her privates. He closed the door and walked to the dresser where he removed some cloth and returned to the bed. He took her left arm and tied the cloth around her wrist and then to the metal bedpost. With her right wrist, he first wrapped the wrist with a soft cloth before tying that one to the other bedpost. She struggled briefly when he grasped her right ankle, but then gave way to avoid arousing his ire. After tying it to the lower bedpost, he took the final piece of cloth and walked around to the other side of the bed. She didn't even resist when he grabbed her left ankle and straightened the leg out before securing it with the cloth.
For what seemed like a very long time, he stood by the bed and stared. She bent her neck and looked down, wondering what he was staring at. She had a flat chest without even a hint of tittie like a woman has. Her pussy was completely hairless and smooth and she knew that women had hair on their pussies. So what was there to look at?
As he turned and walked to the door, she finally got the courage to speak.
"Hey, mister! What if I need to pee?"
He turned around and replied, "Just yell," before he continued out the door leaving the light on.
Her brief thoughts of screaming for help were dashed by this new instruction. Evidently, there was no one around besides him to hear her, so there was little point in attempting to attract attention. The last attention she wanted at the moment was his.
As the door closed, she was alone again. Reflecting on her new circumstances, she decided that they were definitely better than before. She was clean and dry, relatively warm, and lying on a soft bed. The ties were cloth instead of rope and she was not gagged. She wanted to turn over, but the ties prevented her from moving so she lay there and closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, she remembered she had not eaten in at least a day.
The aroma of fried bacon, toast and eggs wafted through the room and she thought she was still dreaming. As she opened her eyes, however, the man was setting a tray on the bed. It was covered with breakfast food in separate plates and there was orange juice in a plastic cup. As she stared at the tray, he untied her hands. The man moved to the foot of the bed and sat in a chair, leaving her with her arms free and a tray full of food within her reach.
Although she was hungry, she hesitated. Was this a trick? Was the food poisoned? As she eyed the food and then the man, she decided that it didn't matter. Besides, why go to all this trouble to kill her now when he could have done it easily last night or any time before?
Despite her ravenous appetite, she made a pretense of being calm and collected as she picked up a piece of bacon and put it into her mouth, followed by buttered toast, and eggs and more bacon, rinsing it down with orange juice. Soon, she gave up the pretense and began voraciously chowing down. She made no effort to conceal her exposed cunt, despite the fact that he was clearly positioned for the optimal view, but ate like she had never eaten before.
The portions were generous, but there was no food remaining when she finished. Her hunger satisfied, she leaned back on her elbows and returned the man's stare. Feeling somewhat emboldened with a full stomach, she decided to engage the man in conversation.
"What now?" she asked, slightly concerned that he might actually tell her.
After a brief hesitation, the man answered, "Put your hand between your legs."
She saw no problem with covering herself and moved her hand quickly, placing it over her pussy.
"Now rub yourself," he commanded.
She failed to see the point in this request, but decided to obey. She moved her hand slightly up and down and kept it placed where it would continue to cover her pussy. She kept up a steady motion as he watched for several minutes and, although it was pleasurable, it was not exceptionally so.
She thought to herself, "So this is what you have to do for breakfast around here."
He finally arose and moved to replace the ties on her wrists. As he took her left wrist, she asked, "Can I go to the bathroom now?"
After removing the empty tray, he released her wrist and untied her ankles before stepping back to let her get up. She slowly sat up on the side of the bed, still warm from the tray, and then walked to the bathroom. She no longer used her hands to cover herself, recognizing the futility of such a gesture.
Upon entering the bathroom, she closed the door and felt a sudden rush of excitement. A chance to escape? There was no lock on the door and no window. The ventilation was too small for her to fit through and too high to reach in any case. There was only a toilet and a sink with no medicine cabinet or closet.
Sighing at the unfortunate conclusion, she sat on the toilet and both urinated and defecated. There was toilet paper which was a welcome sight. She washed her hands and took one final look around for anything that could be used to help with an escape. She inspected the workings of the toilet for sharp objects and scrutinized the plumbing, but she finally reconciled herself to the fact that there was little of any use.
Fighting the desire to just stay in the bathroom, she finally opened the door.
The man was nowhere to be seen and the bedroom door was closed. She was alone! And untied! She felt almost free as she walked over to the window, lit with daylight, and pulled back the curtains. The bars on the other side reminded her of her prisoner status, but the view onto a pasture was a delight. Except that there was no evidence of humanity anywhere to be seen.
She spent most of the rest of the day exploring her new space, but finally tired and lay back down on the bed. She got under the thin covers and curled up in a ball. Even without a pillow, this was paradise. As she fell asleep, she dreamed of walking in the pasture barefooted and naked.
It was evening when the man returned, again carrying a tray of food. Again, there were no utensils, but the food was delicious and missing lunch had made her quite hungry even while she slept. When she had finished, he came and moved the tray.
Returning to his seat at the end of the bed, he sat still for a moment. The silence was frustrating, so she again asked, "What now?"
With less hesitation, he instructed her to lie down. She lay on the bed with her legs together and looked at the ceiling.
"Raise your knees," he ordered. She did as he said, keeping her knees together.
"Now separate your knees."
Having been naked and totally exposed before, but being untied and well fed now, she decided to follow his instructions. There was little to lose since he could just as easily tie her in whatever position he wished and she was hoping to keep the small degree of freedom that she had.
For several moments, she lay with her hands beside her and her knees up with legs spread wide. She could see no point in not explicitly following his instructions. Exposed is exposed, so why not give him what he obviously wanted? She was not clear why, but she did know that he was intent on viewing her preteen pussy and she thought cooperation might lead to better things than resistance, at least for the time being.
"Put your hands between your legs and pull the lips apart," came the order.
For a moment, she hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't understand, she was contemplating disobedience. Could she deny him the pleasure of seeing her innermost private recesses?
His glance towards the dresser immediately shocked her back into reality. There was no denying this man who could just as easily remove the freedoms that he had granted. To avoid being tied, she immediately pulled her cunt lips apart as far as they would go and, to emphasize her compliance, lifted her hips.
When she was sure that her compliance had averted being restrained, she slowly let her hips return to the bed. She watched him for a while, but her neck got tired so she rested her head back on the matress and looked at the ceiling as she kept up the uncomfortable traction on her cunt lips. Minutes went by, but he just sat there, staring. It was as though she were a photograph, placed in this way for his amusement. She felt like saying, "Take a picture. It will last longer," but she kept her silence, fearing that he might demand more liberties if she were insolent.
That evening began with a repeat of the earlier bizarre request and she snapped her legs apart and pulled her lips apart almost before he had finished making his request. There was something new this time.
First, he made an additional demand. "Put a finger into your cunt."
The word "cunt" was one she had heard, but it had vulgar connotations. Still, she wasn't about to quibble with his vocabulary under the circumstances, so she put her right index finger at the entrance to her pussy and slowly pushed it in.
"Move it in and out."
She began to move her finger in and out and watched her hand move between her thighs as she kept an eye on him. She became briefly frightened when she saw him undo his pants and pull out his penis, but he remained seated, massaging his cock and that seemed harmless enough. It was now obvious that he derived sexual pleasure from watching her. She assumed that had been the real reason for her imprisonment from the start.
In spite of the discomfort of keeping her head elevated, she watched intently as he held his cock in one hand and rubbed it with his other fist. She had seen a penis before, but it had not been erect, nor nearly as large as this one. Despite herself, she felt twinges of pleasure from the friction of her finger, but she dismissed them as she kept her attention focused on her captor.
He soon ejaculated as she watched in fascination. Once again, she had heard of this, but only in the clinical drone of her sex education teacher. She had never seen anyone enjoy such intense pleasure as he appeared to be experiencing.
He stood, still holding his cum covered cock, and approached the foot of the bed. She almost panicked. Removing her hands from between her legs, she put them at her sides preparing to flee. His movements were slow, however, and she lay still.
He took some cum from his cock by scooping it onto his finger. Slowly and deliberately, he wiped his finger on her hairless cunt lips and the slit between. As he turned to walk back to his chair, he zipped and fastened his pants, wiping his hands on his thighs.
She wasn't sure what he had in mind, so she just lay there. She could see some of the cum on her pubis as she looked between her still spread legs at the man. A short time later, he rose and left through the door.
She returned her attention to the white liquid on her pubis. She was both disgusted and curious as she gingerly touched it with her finger. It was slippery and gooey; not at all like she had pictured from the descriptions she got in sex ed. She lifted her finger to her nose and smelled. Wrinkling her nose, she decided that she did not like the smell and quickly wiped it on the sheets. Feeling her pussy, it was evident there was still a lot remaining and she rose and went to the bathroom where she used toilet paper to wipe off the rest.
Sensing that his actions might become even more aggressive sexually, she again determined to escape. Looking around her now familiar surroundings, a plan took shape. She decided to hide behind the door, which opened inward, and leave some clue that she was in the bathroom. When he walked into the room after opening the door, she would quickly dash through the door to freedom. She would only have a short time before he knew she was gone, but long enough to reach the outside if she could find her way through the halls to an exit. She remembered every detail of what the hall outside looked like, and that gave her some advantage though not a precise guide.
There was no way to predict the exact time of the morning he would return, so after her preparations were made, she stood where she would be hidden by the opening door for so long that her legs began to ache. When she heard the handle jiggle, her heart began to race. She could hardly breathe and didn't want to make noise anyway, so she flattened herself against the wall and waited.
When the door opened, she knew the man would see the empty bed. She also knew he would be carrying a tray of food that he would need to set down before he did anything else. No matter where he went to set the food down, the door would remain open and his back would be towards her and the door. That would be the time to move quickly and quietly into the hall.
The door opened, and there was no immediate indication of movement. She could not hear him move or see his shadow, so she continued to listen quietly, scarcely breathing. Was he waiting for her to exit the closed bathroom door?
Suddenly, his face appeared and she didn't know what to do. Her plans had been dashed and it appeared that he had already anticipated this ploy. She backed up along the wall, but he didn't move. He just stood there holding the breakfast tray and, as his eyes followed her, she could see disappointment and anger in his expression. When she was a few feet away, she walked quickly to the bed and lay down with her legs straight and her arms by her sides. Although looking straight up, she saw him move out of the corner of her eye to the dresser and she began to sob.
She put up no resistance as he placed the ties around her wrists and ankles and secured her to the four corners of the bed. Although she had closed her eyes, tears continued to flow down her temples and into her ears.
She did not hear him leave, but after the door had shut, she looked up. There was no tray of food and, even if there were, she couldn't get to it. She cried for her failure, her hunger, her lost freedom, and -- just because. She sobbed quietly for a while longer before boredom took over and she slept.
An urge to urinate awakened her. She was also hungry, but she *really* needed to go to the bathroom. Lying with each of her four extremities tied to a bedpost, she contemplated urinating on her bed, but then she would have to sleep in it. The horror of sleeping in the smaller room with the odor of urine and feces caused her to feel sincere regret at her previous attempt to escape. Perhaps there was something she could do to avoid a repeat of that nightmare.
She remembered that he had said to just yell if she needed to go to the bathroom when he first tied her up. Maybe he didn't want her to mess up the bed either. She yelled, "Hey Mister! I need to go to the bathroom," but was rewarded with only silence.
Now she knew she had really screwed up. She thought about what he wanted; to look at her. Maybe to do more. She weighed the situation and determined never to lie in her own urine again if she could avoid it, regardless of the cost. Anything would be better than that. Her discomfort convinced her that it was now or never; time to act.
"Mister! I'll do anything you want. Anything! You can watch me or touch me. Just tell me what you want!" she cried in desperation. "I promise never to try that again. I'll be a good girl! I promise!"
It was getting to the point where she had to grimace to avoid wetting the bed. It had been many years since she had done that and she was not about to do that again.
The door opened and she saw him standing there. She was hoping he had come to let her go to the bathroom, but regardless of his intentions, she was grateful to see him.
"Thank you for coming back," she said. "I meant what I said."
She heaved a sigh of relief as he began to unfasten the ties around her wrists and ankles. She appreciated his helping hand as she sat up on the side of the bed, no longer jumping at his touch. He escorted her into the bathroom and, instead of waiting outside, walked in with her. She was sure it was because he distrusted her as she turned and sat on the toilet, putting her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on her hands.
Just as she was about to start urinating, he touched both of her knees and pushed them gently apart. She did not resist and even moved them voluntarily when she realized he wanted them apart, but she was not clear about why he was doing it.
She saw him squat in front of her with all of his attention focused between her legs and she realized that he wanted to see her pee. Or else he picked a strange time to start his looking. Not able to hold back any longer, she stopped her contemplation and started to pee. The sense of relief was exquisite and she sighed again as the urine flowed into the toilet. She noticed his eyes following the stream and made a note to herself that this was interesting to him. It was another pleasure that she could give him, and she figured the more she could please him the less likely he was to keep her tied up.
She didn't know if there was anything she should be doing besides urinating, so she didn't take any chances. Finishing after what seemed like minutes, she stayed with her legs spread until he stood again. She followed his gaze for clues about what to do next and, as he stepped back, she wiped herself with toilet paper, flushed the toilet, and followed him back into the bedroom.
Keeping in mind the promise she made to herself, she decided to anticipate his instructions to the extent that she could given his previous requests. She immediately lay down on the bed and spread her legs wide as she watched to see what he would do. As she had hoped, he walked to the end of the bed and sat in his chair. Remembering the last time he had her do this, she took it upon herself to resume the motions as he had instructed her.
She spread her smooth pussy lips, stuck her index finger into her vagina, and began to move it back and forth as before. He unzipped his pants as before, so she was comforted to know that she could still stimulate him. She was doing all this without being tied, and still grateful for being untied. Her determination focused on her goal of regaining the freedom and trust she had before her escape attempt.
"Move your hips up and down while you do that," he softly ordered.
She did as he ordered and found it easiest to move her finger in while her hips moved up and move it out when her hips returned to the bed. Up and in, down and out she repeated over and over, concentrating on getting it just right. To accentuate her cooperation, her movements were almost exaggerated: She stuck her finger in as far as she could, clear up to the knuckle, and moved her hips as much as they could move while she was on her back. She hardly noticed as he rose and walked to the bed.
At first, she thought he had come for a closer look at her handiwork. When she saw his erect penis in his hand, she wondered what else he might have in mind, but she decided she didn't care. She kept up her enthusiastic fingering even as he got beside her on the bed and held his cock over her stomach.
Her movements continued uninterrupted as she watched his cock in fascination. So close up! She could see every detail as she stared unabashedly while he stroked it back and forth. She only paused briefly when the penis began to squirt liquid. He seemed to be aiming it as he squirted first on her abdomen, then her chest, then back to her abdomen, finally dribbling the remainder onto her hairless pubis.
Even though he was finished cumming, she continued the fingering and hip movements until he took his right hand and gently grasped her right arm. She passively allowed him to move her arm to her side, noting that some of the cum from his hand stuck to her arm. He lifted her hand and slowly licked and sucked her index finger that had been in her cunt. She noted that he liked the taste of her cunt juices. That, too, she would remember. When he lay her arm by her side, she let go of her other pussy lip and lay her head back, lying with her arms by her sides and waiting for his next move.
She followed his hand with her eyes as it reached for her abdomen. Not even flinching, she watched his hand trace patterns in the cum on her abdomen and chest. In so doing, his fingers became coated with cum. He then lifted his fingers to her face and she looked into his eyes as he gently spread the cum over her lips. With slight pressure, he indicated that she should open her mouth. As soon as she understood, she cooperated without hesitation. His finger, coated with cum, slipped in between her lips, lubricating as it went. Remembering how he had licked and sucked her finger, she decided that was what he wanted her to do, so she proceeded to lick the cum from all sides and swallow his finger as deep as she could.
He withdrew his finger and returned his hand to her abdomen. Scooping up a generous quantity of semen, his hand lifted to her face again, but as she opened her mouth, expecting to be fed the expended cum, he wiped her cheeks, chin, and nose. She kept her mouth open slightly nonetheless and a drip fell from her nose to her upper lip and then slowly fell into her mouth. Without closing her mouth, she gingerly stuck her tongue to her lip and removed the remaining cum there.
The salty taste was not that unpleasant, she decided, and compared with the alternatives she envisioned, it was downright tasty. Being hungry didn't hurt.
After he watched the movements of her tongue, he moved his hand to her flat chest and scooped up another large dollop. Lifting it to her face, her mouth still open, he poured the now sticky cum into her waiting mouth. She closed her mouth long enough to swallow and then opened up again. The sight was strangely reminiscent of an adult bird feeding its young.
He placed the flat of his hand onto her chest and rubbed in generous circles around where her breasts would be before moving lower to her abdomen. When he started to rub towards her pubis, she anticipated his move and, spreading her legs, tilted her hips so that his hand glided effortlessly onto her hairless vulva. As his hand lingered between her legs, she moved her hips up and down to save him the effort of moving his arm. His hand gradually increased pressure and she continued to hump his hand when she noticed a brief and exquisite sensation that was distinctly pleasurable. Her hip motions increased in frequency as he held his hand still and she had yet another, stronger sensation that took her breath away.
From watching his face, she could tell he was pleased; his attention focused on her smooth cunt slick with his cum and her movements. Soon he removed his hand and, ironically, she had wished it to remain for a while longer.
He sat back on his heals and his eyes traveled over her cum-slick preteen body. Although she wasn't sure why, she moved her own hand to where his was and resumed the humping motions until she finally felt the same sensation, so intense that she closed her eyes and cried out briefly before she relaxed totally and completely.
She could feel the cum on her face beginning to dry as he stood and motioned for her to follow him saying, "Come on."
Without a word, she rose and took his hand as they walked into the hall. He led her along the familiar passageway to the bathroom where he had first bathed her. She looked into the mirror and saw streams of cum over her cheeks and nose. Her body was shiny and slick as she moved her hands over her chest and abdomen before she turned her attention to the man.
The tub was filling as he monitored the temperature with his hands, seemingly paying no attention to Sandy. At the moment, she had no inclination to escape; her thoughts rested on the bath and perhaps food later.
When the tub was full, he turned off the water and stood back to allow her to enter. She noticed that this time there was no bubble bath and wondered if this was part of her punishment. As much as she despised the bubble bath before, she missed it now.
Sitting in the tub, she let him bathe her as before. She did not resist and even helped him as he washed every part of her body. Some of his actions were clearly not only intended to clean. When his hands moved to her inner thighs there was no washcloth, no soap. She spread her legs as far as she could to let him reach between and his hands spent time running over her soft silky cuntlips before he resumed washing her legs.
After a gentle shampoo and rinse, she stood and dried off with the towel he offered. This time, she left the bathtowel on the floor as she again took his hand to walk back to her bedroom.
He let her lay down and pulled the sheets to cover her still naked body. She curled onto her side as she watched him leave and drifted off to sleep.
It was only a few minutes later that he reappeared with supper and sat quietly as she ate. When she had finished, she thanked him. Just a brief "Thank you," but it meant more.
After that, it was a rare thing for him to sit and just watch her. He became increasingly involved with direct contact in one form or another. Finally, he would remove all of his clothes when he came into the room before approaching the bed.
After breakfast, about a week later, he lay down on the bed naked while she lay on her side and supported herself with her elbow. He reached out and took her other hand and guided it to his erect penis, folding her fingers around it. It seemed massive to her as she held the rigid cock and examined it. When she didn't move, he put his hand on her arm to show her how to move her hand to give him pleasure. She learned quickly and moved it up and down, recognizing the movements as similar to what he had done before to himself before he would cum.
The now familiar expressions on his face told her that the time was close and she increased the speed of her movements. With a spasm and a groan, he shot cum onto his abdomen and streams fell down the sides and around her fingers. When the twitches from his cock ceased, she slowly removed her hand and, making sure he was watching, licked the cum off of her fingers as she had licked it off of his before.
Looking at the cum on his stomach, she first thought of rubbing it in, but then decided to try something she thought would please him more. She bent over and slurped the droplets of cum that were scattered from his upper to his lower stomach, licking some and sucking others into her mouth. His cock was still partially erect and covered with cum. Not sure if he really wanted it, she slowly and hesitantly grasped his cock and milked out another couple of drops which she gathered onto her tongue. With her tongue holding the drops, she turned her head and saw the expression of pleasure on his face. She made a big deal of swallowing the collected cum before returning her attention to his now somewhat more erect phallus.
She was about to lick it when he said, "Put your mouth over it."
She grasped the base and wrapped her lips around as much as would fit, but then remembered she had promised there would be no halfway measures. Realigning her body, she forced even more into her mouth. Meeting resistance and the gag reflex nearly stopped her, but with patience and relaxation, she finally had his entire cock in her mouth and down her throat. Her nose, buried in his pubic hair, inhaled the aroma of cologne and sweat. Not at all unpleasant, she decided. She became somewhat alarmed at first as it began to get even larger, and she was not able to breathe, so she pulled back for a moment before slowly plunging it in again.
"That's it," he groaned.
It was the motion, she realized, that had pleased him. She began to make her whole body move back and forth to reproduce the movements she had seen his hands make, breathing when the penis was shallow and falling into a rhythm that was slow and deliberate.
She was slightly taken aback when he soon grabbed her head, held it and thrust into her mouth and throat until she felt the warm liquid easing down her throat and knew he had cum again. He quickly let her up and she coughed and caught her breath.
"Was that ok?" she asked.
"Perfect. Absolutely perfect," he replied as he gently wiped the cum into her lips. She stuck her tongue out and caressed his finger until he withdrew it.
Several days passed when all they did was fondle. He encouraged her to massage his penis as he rubbed her cunt and she learned what pleased her as well as what pleased him. Finally, she took the initiative of placing her mouth over the head of his penis. Instead of letting her continue, he lay her back and spread her legs. He placed himself between her legs and his cock on the lips of her pussy.
"It won't fit!" she thought, but he simply rubbed the head against her lips and clitoris and then moved his hips as though fucking her, but with the phallus rubbing her pubis. She was expecting him to cum like that when he stopped, sat back and began to massage his own penis.
"I'm going to cum in your mouth," he said.
She opened her mouth wide in anticipation and he straddled her chest. Rather than putting his cock into her mouth, he held the head on her bottom lip and continued to stroke himself until finally he began to shoot volumes of cum into her mouth. She lay still with her mouth wide open and collected the semen as he finished with a dribble.
Her mouth now open and almost full of cum, he stared for a few moments and then moved to the side. She closed her mouth and swallowed as he looked on.
That night, captor and captive slept together, and she felt warm, and comfortable, and completely at ease. She was entirely dependent upon him, and content to satisfy any wish he may have. It was no longer fear that motivated her. Well, not entirely, except for the fear that he would abandon her. Her joy was proportional to the amount of time he spent with her and when he was not there, she was alone. All of the sorrow and misery she felt she began to attribute to his absence. She had become so devoted to him that he could do no wrong.
There was a new addition to the room soon. He had installed television cameras in several places and other types of photographic equipment. He would ask her to pose, or dance, and she would pretend she was a fashion model and acted as sexy as she knew how. Their intimate moments were also photographed and taped. She imagined he wanted to have those to remember her with forever.
Even after the sex, there were photo's to be taken. He once asked her to close her eyes and smile as he came on her face and then, afterwards, took close-up pictures of the "results." At other times, he would cum on her abdomen, chest, pussy, or even her butt and then take photos -- some of which he posed with himself in the photographs, or at least his cock.
He never showed her the photographs. Once taken, they seemed to vanish, but she felt sure he kept them somewhere. Although she never saw them, she could imagine what they showed, and she did her best to be sure they showed plenty.
He did finally bring some magazines to show her. They showed women and men in various poses of a sexual nature and he would suggest they try this or that. She never refused him. There was no suggestion, however, of vaginal intercourse. She was just too small.
She did see some photographs of women with cocks in the anus. "I bet I could do that," she declared. And she got her chance. Later, he brought lubrication into the room. He lay her on her back with her legs in the air and got between her legs before he spread lubrication on his cock and her vulva and anus. As he pressed into her delicate orifice, she worried that the pain would be too much, but with determination and his encouragement, he was able to penetrate. She watched his face as he held her ankles and thrust and felt the penis going in and out. Her body moved to and fro from the force and she felt like a part of him. She was his entirely now.
At other times, he would approach her from behind, doggie style, and at yet other times, she would sit on his lap while he thrust into her anus. She could actually experience tremendous pleasure this way. She was totally opened and facing a camera, with him inside of her, legs spread to show her pussy and his cock entering her anus, and the pleasure would become excruciating.
There were the "toys" too. Various items of different sizes that he would put into her vagina or anus before taking a number of pictures from different angles. Over time, the items that he would stick into her vagina increased in size, and discomfort, but she would get past the pain and smile during the photographs. It became apparent that her vagina was stretching and, when it had reached an appropriate size, she knew she could take his penis in her vagina.
As he prepared to insert his well lubricated cock into her anus, she reached between her legs and took his cock into her hand, guiding it to her pussy. As he remained motionless, she moved her body towards him and slowly engulfed his cock. It burned some, but she didn't yell or cry and when he was in as deep as it would go, she moved her body back and forth as she did sometimes when he had been in her anus. When he came, the pain was intense. Even after he withdrew, she continued to burn. There was also some blood.
Although there was pain and even bleeding, she knew he had been well pleased, so she planned to continue to fuck him despite the pain. To her surprise, the next time was not nearly as painful. The next, hardly painful at all and finally, there was no pain. That was when she experienced such orgasmic delight that she passed out.
When she awoke, he was lying next to her stroking her head. She reached up and placed her hand behind his neck and pulled his face to hers for her first kiss.
As they lay there naked, the door suddenly burst open and a policeman grabbed the man and pulled him to the floor. Sandy was shocked and immediately grabbed the lamp on the nightstand and began to strike the policeman on the head.
"Leave him alone!" she cried as she continued to batter the policeman. A second policeman grabbed her and pulled her back. The first policeman was not really hurt since the lampshade was about the only thing hitting him, but he rubbed his head and looked at her for a moment before placing handcuffs on the man.
"Go away!" she kept crying as tears poured from her eyes. "Leave us alone! We didn't do anything wrong!"
It was much later while sitting in the police station, fully clothed, that she started to think about the rest of the world. Her family! Where were they? Almost as soon as she thought about this, her mother walked in and hugged her. The familiar hair, the smell of her perfume, and even the dress her mother wore all hit her at the same time. She hugged her mother back and began to cry. She had forgotten how much she missed her family. She cried for joy and she cried because she felt guilt at having forgotten those who loved her the most.
Her world was turned around for the second time in her young life. The part of her that knew the intimacy of sex and the pleasure of a man was not gone; it remained dormant under her little girl clothes. Her mother could not know, but her little girl would never be the same.
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