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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Copyright by H. Jekyll. Permission is freely granted to
post on any non-commercial site (meaning a site that
does not charge for entrance), as long as proper
attribution is given. The story should not be read by
anyone under the legal age to read sexually explicit
stories, or by anyone in a location where it is illegal
to read such stories. Send comments, inquiries,
requests, and criticisms to: h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com.
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Silent, Chapter One
by H. Jekyll (h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com)
***
A psychopath targets a mother and daughter for his own
twisted entertainment. The following story codes refer
to the series, not an individual chapter: (Mdom/Ff,
ped, nc, bd, sm, scat, tor)
***
Chapter One: Capture
Snatching the mother was easier than snatching the girl
had been. After a few weeks of no daughter she had
slowly begun to go to work, to shop for groceries. She
and her husband were grief-stricken, but they had to
live. They both thought she was dead, actually, and
just wanted to find the body, to bury her properly.
After a few months they even started to fuck again,
once in a while, though it was mostly for comfort and
wasn't very good. No one ever considered that the wife
could be a victim too, as she went about her routine
activities across the days, mainly avoiding her friends
who would want to make conversation.
She had lost weight, though as a middle-aged American
woman she was still plumpish. Her husband didn't seem
to mind that her thighs had grown flabby. To the
captor, she was a project, something to occupy his time
and please him now that her daughter was thoroughly
mastered and, therefore, less interesting. So it was
that on the third-month anniversary of the day he took
her daughter he accosted her as she left a grocery
store and started to enter her car, using his best cop
voice to say "Ma'am, we have some news of your
daughter."
"What is it?" She almost shouted, too shaken and giddy
to wonder why a cop would track her down at the grocery
store.
"We've found some recent photos We think they are her."
He showed her two color snaps. In one her daughter was
hanging from the ceiling by dark straps attached to
cuffs on her wrists. There were some whip marks on her
belly and breast buds. The other was a close-up of her
daughter's face, an erection clearly just emerging from
her mouth and spurts of semen on her eyes and cheek. He
had chosen them carefully, so he could watch her face
when she realized what they meant.
The mother sank half way to the ground and grabbed her
stomach. She was almost sick right then. This was the
thing worse than death that she and her husband had
avoided ever mentioning. "Ma'am, if you'll come here
with me." He opened the door of his SUV and she climbed
in distractedly, her mind on what was happening to her
baby. The moment both were in he snapped a cuff on one
wrist and put his gun to her face. The windows were
strongly darkened, and it would be difficult for anyone
outside to see anything.
"Do exactly what I say and you will live to see your
daughter." She didn't understand, so just sat there
breathing rapidly while he cuffed her hands together.
He snapped a hinged a collar around her neck. A cord
from it went to a ring bolted to the floor, and he used
that to pull her head all the way down between her
knees, below the level of the window, and hold her
tightly in place.
"What are you doing? Let me go! Where is my daughter?"
He pushed a rubber ball into her mouth, tied it in
place with a thin leather belt, then pulled a stocking
cap over her head to blindfold her. She continued to
make frightened, indecipherable sounds behind the gag
for a bit.
"I'll answer your three questions. First, I am
kidnapping you. Second, no, I will not let you go. You
are my plaything now, and you'll learn above all other
things to please me. And, third, your daughter is where
we're going. I have her and I certainly have you." It
was that easy.
***
The transition from being a free person to being the
prisoner of a rapist, bound, gagged, and blindfolded,
being taken to some unknown, probably fearful, place,
is a profound thing for a woman. She was disoriented,
shaking, crying, trying to think. From the photos she
had an idea of what would happen. Combined with the
ball in her mouth this brought her waves of nausea.
What would her husband think? How long would it be
before anyone knew she was missing? Could she be brave
in the face of this? Her daughter was alive. Or was
she? Oh what she had faced? Oh what would she face
herself? She pulled and struggled at her bindings for
awhile, and he let her, and in the end this reinforced
her sense of helplessness. Above all: would he kill
her? Please dear God don't let him hurt me too much.
Her prayer was destined to be unanswered.
After a short while he stopped to uncuff her arms and
fix them behind her back. It wasn't hard. He undid the
cord and led her from the car. She didn't know what to
do but to follow his directions. He lifted her, placed
her in the trunk of another car, then continued on for
a long time. His great strength increased her dread.
She lay in the blackness, with nothing to occupy her
but terror and her growing need to urinate.
***
When he stopped again he just lifted her from the trunk
and put her on the ground. She had to lean against him
until she regained her feet. He held her arms tightly
and muscled her along, she stumbling and making very
muted cries through her gag, up a few stairs, then down
what seemed like many, and around, to a place that
smelled damp. He pulled off the stocking cap, untied
the belt, let her spit out the ball, and undid her
hands.
The lights blinded her for a moment, though they were
not bright. She was in a large room with concrete walls
and floor. No windows. Some doors came off from it. She
backed away from him, looking for an escape route, and
he let her. "After you try to escape, I'm going to
punish you for it. Severely. Remember that."
Still she ran to the nearest door. It was made of metal
painted to look like wood, and it was locked. She was
desperate and ran to another. Same result. She put her
back to it. "You will regret that. You *will* learn to
obey and please me. Now, come to the middle of the room
and strip off all your clothes."
She didn't move, of course, which pleased him to no
end. This would be so much fun. She finally managed to
talk: "What are you doing? If it's money you want we
can get it for you. You can't get away. The police will
find you." All the old lines from B-movies, but they
were all she could dredge up. His only answer was to
pull out a long, leather whip he had been holding
behind his back and slash her across the hips.
She screamed a hoarse, short, lovely sound, grabbed
herself around the middle with both arms, doubled over,
held herself tight. She was trying not to cry, not
succeeding, and her mouth was twisted oddly.
"Now, you'll step to the middle of the room and strip
off your clothing.
Then I'll punish you for trying to escape."
She crept to the center, still crying, her eyes rheumy,
saying now "please, please" through twisted lips. Her
crying had become stuttering gasps and hiccups,
interspersed with snuffles. Maybe she would be too easy
to master? He didn't do anything, so she began
unbuttoning her blouse. She had trouble pulling the
tail out because the pants were too tight. She
unsnapped and unzipped the pants, finished unbuttoning
the blouse, and slipped it off. She didn't know just
what to do with it, so held it off from herself, still
crying, still begging "please."
"Just drop it," he said. "You won't be needing it any
more."
At those words she stood completely still. Then she
fell to the concrete floor. "Oh please dear God don't
kill me. Dear God, I'll do anything for you." She was
having a hard time talking, because of the crying.
"I'll do anything you want. Isn't it enough you took my
daughter? Please don't do this..." and so on. He used
the whip again, to shut her up. Again she shrieked and
tried to hold herself very still, but put both her
hands before her eyes and rocked back and forth.
"You'll do anything I say anyway. Now you'll stand up
and take off the rest of your clothes and get ready for
your punishment. If you try to cover yourself with your
hands it'll go worse for you."
She rose slowly, crying but no longer begging. He
thought that was too bad, because when he struck her
his penis gave him a jolt. She bent to untie her
walking shoes, then slipped them off. It was a bad
position. She stood on one leg to pull the other show
off and almost fell both times. She was shaking, which
made it worse. She pushed down the tight slacks,
pulling her panties part way down with them, then
yanked the panties back up.
She reached behind to unsnap her bra and hung her head
while she removed it and let her breasts drop into
view. They were medium sized, well defined like pears,
with large, dark brown areolas, around which were a few
almost black hairs. She thought she couldn't stand for
him to look at them.
Finally she pulled off her panties, revealing her large
muff of mousy brown hair, untrimmed for any bathing
suit. She stood with her arms at her sides, sniffling.
She was still shaking, shivering, not from cold.
Everything was in a pile on the floor.
He walked up to her. "You don't ever resist or avoid
me. I decide what happens to you. And you only talk if
I want you to." He had not raised his voice at any
time. With that, he ran his palms over her breasts
making circular motions. He pinch her nipples hard to
get them to stand erect.
She winced and held her breath and didn't move. He ran
his fingers lightly from her breasts down her belly to
her muff. He grabbed a thick plug of pubic hair and
yanked it out, at which she gasped and whimpered. He
moved his hand up to her face, caressed her cheek,
caressed her lips with his right thumb, made her open
her mouth and suck in his thumb. When she did that she
started crying again, but still managed to hold herself
still.
"Now let's kiss sweetly." His face was right up to hers
and she stared at his mouth. She wanted to keep hers
closed from that, but she was afraid. He said "open
your lips" and put his mouth on hers. She forced hers
open and felt his tongue move into her mouth, licking
her tongue, her lips, the inside walls of her mouth.
She could smell his breath. His mouth had a strong
taste. She almost gagged.
"Raise you arms above your head. No. As far up as you
can raise them." She raised her arms and noticed for
the first time that black leather cuffs descended from
rings in the ceiling, held by ropes. She tried to hold
still while he cuffed her wrists, but she was shaking
too much, and he had to hold them steady himself.
Once he had her cuffed he walked to a spot on the wall
that the ropes came to, and pulled until she was all
but off the floor, her toes barely touching. He tied
off the ropes. He tied other ropes to her ankles and
used them to pull her legs out toward rings set in the
floor, until her feet were off the floor and she was
stretched between hands and feet. The immobility
frightened her still more. Was this when he killed her?
The stretching pressed her bladder. In a tiny voice she
said "I have to go to the bathroom."
He hit her across the belly again with the whip. This
time she cried loudly and swayed back and forth in her
bindings, unable to make any other movements. "You
never talk unless I tell you to. And you hold whatever
you've got until I give you permission to go. What do
you have to do?"
A tinier voice: "Wet."
"You can wait until tomorrow for that." She wouldn't
have it that long, and this would be exquisite.
He approached her again and caressed her breasts very
gently, then squeezed and kneaded them and pulled on
her nipples. He wet the nipples with his saliva and
when they were slippery he pulled them out until they
popped loose from his fingers. She turned her head
away, which was hard to do as her arms pointed upward
in a pyramid form and her upper arms pressed on her
ears.
She continued to quake and occasionally to moan
quietly, but mostly she whimpered. He caressed her
armpits, smooth from a recent shaving. He put his face
in one and inhaled. He licked it thoroughly, then he
nipped just the top layer of flesh until he broke the
skin. He did the same to the other pit. He licked the
drops of blood that formed.
"You won't use anti-perspirent anymore. It want to
taste you." He moved down her belly, licking it and
giving more nips, at each of which she returned a
louder, sharper whimper, giving the entire interaction
the appearance of a sweetly and sensually choreographed
love scene. When he rose he did not look sweet, though.
"You are fat," he said severely. "You have a gut and
your thighs are completely lumpy. That won't last long,
though. When I'm done with you, you'll be as trim as
any eighteen year old."
He left for a minute, then returned with a paper bag, a
clothes basket, and what looked like a large suitcase.
He stuffed all her clothes into the paper bag,
stripped, and carefully folded his clothing before
putting it all in the basket. He had a somewhat hairy
body, very muscled, with some fleshiness.
She didn't want to see his penis but couldn't turn away
from it, and there it was, dark and long and round,
pointing almost straight at her, instead of curving
upwards like her husband's. The head was large, too,
and the back of it flanged out dramatically. His balls
were large and especially hairy. She knew what was
coming.
He spread some lubricant on his shaft, played with
himself for a minute, then applied a gob of lubricant
to her vagina, pushing fingers in, pulling on her
labia, thumbing her clitoris. She jerked at the
stimulation and said "no, please, no." He slapped her
hard across the face, twice, to make her stop. He lined
up his penis, got it to the entrance of her vagina, and
pushed up into her with one smooth, slow thrust. His
penis was so big that it made her grunt. She felt it
bump against her cervix. Feeling him up and inside her,
tight all the way, she started to cry openly again.
He made her open her mouth and gave her deep French
kisses. She just hung there until he made her kiss him
back, pushing her tongue into his mouth and sliding it
over and around his tongue, sucking on his tongue,
tasting his strong taste and breathing his breath and
drinking his saliva. He made her hold her tongue in his
mouth while he bit it. When she jerked it back, he
grabbed her left breast and twisted almost all the way
around until she pushed her tongue back in and held it
there while he chewed on it. She was trying to scream
during this, but his mouth muffled her cries.
Her bladder was bursting, cramping, feeling like she
held an electric wire in her urethra. She didn't think
she could hold it much longer. Her shoulders were
starting to ache.
He began fucking her faster, and came for a long time,
pushing upward so hard that his penis and hips lifted
her, taking some pressure off her arms for a moment.
"That was the first orgasm you're going to give me
tonight." He murmured it gently into her ear. Then,
without any ceremony, he pulled out of her, reached
into the suitcase for a long, thick leather belt, and
started whipping her.
There was no hurry to his whipping. He swung the belt
very hard and it made a splatting sound as it hit. She
jumped and yelled that hoarse scream at the first
stroke. There was plenty of time to feel it before the
next one, and again before the next. She again
screamed, "Please, no, God!" and all the rest, though
only in short bursts because the belt knocked the wind
from her. The belt was three inches wide, and he
covered her pretty evenly, beginning at her collarbone
and moving steadily down to her knees, taking special
care for the insides of her thighs.
Before he was halfway down, she was only shouting "oh"
at each stroke, so quickly was her energy drained. She
was gasping, choking, and had begun sweating so much
that a fine spray broke from her at each stroke. It was
when he hit right at her bladder that she pissed all
down her legs. He stopped for just a moment, took her
face between his hands and, looking her right in the
eyes, told her, "For disobeying me and not showing any
discipline, I'm going to double your punishment."
When he finished the front he went around back and
whipped her from the base of her neck down to the backs
of her knees. The force of the strokes caused her to
swing back and forth. After he reached her knees he
went around to the front and started over. She never
stopped crying "oh" as the belt hit her.
When he was finally finished he inspected her red body
like it was a miraculous find, pulling, pinching, and
rubbing skin. His fingers came away with blood. She
hung like a sack, gasping, not even whimpering anymore.
"That's the way I like you," he told her. He was fully
erect again, and fucked her again, but she didn't
react, so he held her head up and made her suck his
tongue again. She was so tired she could hardly do it,
and when he bit her tongue she hadn't the strength to
pull it back. When he came again his prick again lifted
her, but she was just a rag doll. Still, when he came
at her again with the broad belt a few minutes later
she did say, in just the tiniest whimper and for the
last time that night: "Oh no, please no!"
He did her just once over this time. When he was done
he put the gag back on her, inserted ear plugs, and put
the stocking cap on her again. He turned on a white
noise machine. Then he turned out the light and left,
closing the door behind him, leaving her hanging in the
dark.
To be continued...
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 37