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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. 
--------------------------------------------------------

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...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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