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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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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Fourteen
by S.R. (sr_author@hotmail.com)
***
I simply had to have her. It was that simple. The
moment I laid eyes upon her, found myself stunned and
in awe of the beauty, the charisma, the energy of her,
I knew then and there that she had to be mine. (Mdom/f-
teen, ped, nc, rp, v, b, anal)
***
Author Notes: If you are under the legal age of 18
years, you are ordered to cease and desist further
interaction with material found within or on this
website under the Law. If you continue, you may face
fines and/or jail time. Please, I urge you to go back
now if you are not a legally consenting adult.
Further more, this story, and all other stories written
by myself, the author known as S.R., are complete works
of fiction. Though some characters may be loosely based
on actual people, no person/s within any of my works
are real people. No actions, sexual or otherwise,
contained in my stories, have actually occurred.
Everything written by I, S.R, are total works of
fiction.
After all, anyone think the British woman who writes
Harry Potter is a wizard? Or that Tom Clancy is engaged
in life-or- death struggles to prevent wars? I doubt
it. So please, do not presume such things of me.
In addition, if you find my writings, which are mostly
material of a sexual nature, to be offensive, I urge
you to turn back now. My stories - my works of fiction
- are simply that, and not intended to do anything
other than exist as a collection of words and an
expression of ideas and thoughts. If you find anything
held within any of my stories to be offensive, please
remember it is simply a story. Thank you and enjoy...
***
Introduction
------------
First off, let me tell you that I tend to tease a lot
in my stories. By this I mean that, you won't get any
actual full-on sex until part 3. What you will get is a
good, thought out story, with an actual plot, that
actually builds up to the eventual full-on sex. So I
advise you to take your time with this story. It's not
a quick fix.
Second, and something I want to make very clear, is
that I wrote this story as a *challenge*. Not only a
challenge from a friend and fellow writer, but as a
challenge to my own ability to write something so
completely outside of my own self and my own reality.
It has no basis in reality, nor does it have a basis in
my own self. This is a story I found difficult to write
for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that
someone I know and care for was violated and abused.
I realize some people may find this sort of thing
sexually stimulating and while I don't agree with it,
nor find it stimulating myself, I also don't judge it
or those individuals who do, as long as it remains
*fantasy*. For me, this is not sexual. This is a
challenge to my own skill as a writer, and to my own
morals. To see how far I can go before I flinch and can
go no further. To see if I can truly get inside any
character, no matter how bad.
Also, I welcome and seek out comments and discussions
of my work from it's readers. Please feel free and
encouraged to contact me at sr_author@hotmail.com for
any reason related to my works. Praise, criticism,
questions or comments, requests, whatever.
PART 1
------
I simply had to have her. It was that simple. The
moment I laid eyes upon her, found myself stunned and
in awe of the beauty, the charisma, the energy of her,
I knew then and there that she had to be mine. I was
fixated beyond reason. Maybe it's because of how picky
I am about everything in life, from what I wear to what
I eat to who I fuck, but when I find something so
absolutely perfect that I simply have - for once - no
doubts and no hesitations, there is no more discussion.
No internal debating, no questions of how and when and
where or even why. It's as if something independent of
my own self takes over, and I am removed from the
equation. I operate on auto-pilot until I have obtained
that which I desire, and then and only then do I come
back to myself.
I watched her from my car, across the high school
campus, as she stood with a group of her friends,
laughing and talking. The sun shining down upon her
shoulder-length golden blond hair. She was dressed very
simply, very much like everyone else it seemed. A dark
navy-blue t-shirt from one of those stores with the
annoying commercials with all the dancers, and a pair
of tight blue jeans. Her figure was on the slim side,
without being super-model skeletal. Her breasts where
average for her age, which meant somewhere around a B
cup. Just enough without being too much, in my opinion.
I usually preferred between a B and C, but that was
just a preference and by no means detracted from her or
my opinion of her.
Her hips where slim and her legs long, her stomach flat
and toned from what I could see from her exposed
midriff. Her ass was firm and round, very tight, well
shaped without being fat by any definition of the word.
It was, as a friend of mine had once said, "an ass you
could eat," and indeed that statement made a little
more sense looking at hers through the tight jeans she
wore. Her smile was sweet, warm, like the sun. It
bordered on sensual though at times, when specific boys
close to her age walked by. Whether or not the latent
sensuality in her smile was deliberate or instinctual,
I couldn't really tell, and didn't really care about
either.
I watched as she boarded one of the dozen yellow school
buses, and took note of its number. After a few minutes
the caravan of buses departed, and I followed. Staying
about a half-dozen cars behind, I kept in sight of the
bus as it made its rounds. A few times I would turn
left when it turned right, only to re-join it down the
road a bit a few quick turns of my own. Better to risk
loosing her today and pick her up tomorrow than to be a
constant behind the bus. As luck would have it though,
after about a dozen stops, we came upon hers. She left
the bus with three others, all of whom walked in the
opposite direction as she. The location couldn't have
been better. A side street, right off a main road, with
a lot of trees and houses crammed rather close
together.
I parked. Better to follow on foot at this point. An
unfamiliar car driving slowly through a residential
neighborhood just wasn't smart. I grabbed a clip-board
with a handful of survey forms attached to it out of
the back seat and took to the side walk. I'd swiped the
forms a few weeks ago from a table at the mall. Didn't
even know what they where about, but it didn't really
matter. As I walked a good ways behind her, I kept an
eye for houses that clearly had no one home. Mail still
in the mail box, afternoon newspaper still on the
porch, no open windows on a warm spring day. I stopped
at these houses and made as if I was ringing the bell.
When, of course, no one answered, I moved on, always
keeping her in sight.
When she got to her house, she stopped to get the mail
and I kept going. Two or three houses down I did my
act, waited a suitable length of time for no one to
answer the door, and then moved on. I kept this up for
the entire block, until I came to the corner. Circling
around, I found a narrow gravel alley behind the
houses, a reflection of homes on the other side of the
alley. I made a quick inspection of the back of her
house. No obvious signs of a pet, no car in the drive
way. Both good things. Moving around to the front
through the narrow alley that separated every house, I
did just as I had been doing: went right up to the
front door.
Ringing the bell, I waited for a moment until she
opened the door.
Now, let me tell you, I'm in my early 20's and pretty
good looking, or so I've been told. So her first
reaction to me was a combination of curiosity and
initial attraction. This helped a great deal, as it's a
lot harder to talk your way into anywhere if you don't
have the looks.
"Hi there," I said, holding my clip-board up to my
chest, wanting her to feel at ease, to presume I was
just some guy selling something or whatever. "I'm doing
a survey for the GAP," I said, coughing - as part of my
hastily put together plan, "and if you wouldn't mind
filling this out, we've got gift certificates as a
thanks." I said.
"Sure," she said, opening the screen door a bit - just
enough to slide the form in.
"Could I trouble you for a glass of water?" I said, as
I struggled to get one of the forms free from the clip
board. "Allergies." I offered in explanation, coughing
again.
"Sure," she said again, turning away. Taking the handle
of the screen door, I opened it and stepped in. While
she was aware of this, she just headed down the hall
towards no doubt the kitchen. I quietly pushed the
front door closed, though not totally, to conceal
myself from the street. It's surprising how many people
aren't at all assertive about their own security or
comfort in their own homes...
Glancing around the house from the front door, I took
quick stock. From the look of the place, I could tell
she likely lived with just her mom, perhaps a sister,
but no men for sure. The house was too feminine, too
frilly, and too well-kept, to have any men of any age
in it. This didn't really matter, but observation was
part of the game.
As she returned with a glass of water, I accepted it
gratefully and took a few mouthfuls. I could see out of
the corner of her eye that she wasn't all too
comfortable with me in the house, even if she was
comfortable enough to give my body a once- over with
her eyes.
"Thanks," I said, handing her the glass. Instead of
taking it to the kitchen as I had hoped, she set it
down on a small table near the stairs. Quickly, I began
to fumble around, searching my pants pockets for
something, "Damn, must've left it at the last house -
do you have a pen by chance?" I asked apologetically.
"Uhm, yeah," she said, turning around towards the table
where she had set the glass of water down.
It was time to make my move.
Taking the clip board in two hands, I slammed it down
across the back of her head with such force that it
broke in two. It also knocked her into the table, and
up against the railing of the stairs, before she fell
to her knees, and then finally to the floor in a heap.
Checking that she was, indeed, unconscious, I scavenged
quickly about the house. Finding the draw string of a
pair of sweat -pants and some duct tape, I went to
work. I bound her hands first with the draw string,
then with the tape. Overkill, maybe, but making sure
her hands where bound was critical. If she woke up, it
was beyond critical. I then taped her mouth and eyes,
before taping her legs together at the ankles. Lifting
her over my shoulders, I moved down the hall to the
kitchen. The back door the lead to the alley was there.
Setting her down on the kitchen table, I returned to
the foyer and gathered the broken clip board and glass
of water.
Grabbing the pair of sweat-pants, I wiped down the
front door and the handle of the screen door quickly.
Not as though my prints where on file, I'd never so
much as been arrested, but it was better to make sure
they didn't get on file. Returning to the kitchen and
throwing the glass in the sink, I rinsed it off and
moved to the door. Exiting through the back, I walked
calmly down the alley, crossed the side-street, and got
into my car. Driving it back up the alley, I backed it
in to her house. The trees provided a great deal of
cover from any neighbors that might be home. Popping
the trunk, I returned to the kitchen. She was already
beginning to stir, but was not yet conscience.
Picking her up again, I took her out the back door and
deposited her in the trunk without ceremony. I then
retrieved the broke clip-board and tossed it in with
her before closing the trunk and returning to the
wheel. Casually, I pulled out of the drive way, and
down the alley, and then onto the street. So far, so
good.
I must admit, the drive "home" was quite difficult. Oh,
not because of her gradual return to consciousness, or
the resulting muffled screams and banging around caused
by her flailing body as she tried without success to
free herself. More so in that it took all my restraint
to stay the course I had set upon and not give into the
considerable urge of stopping on the side of the road
and taking her then and there. The though of her alone
was enough to make me hard, but the realization that
she was tied, bound, blind and scared in my very own
trunk just made it worse. At points, I found myself
laughing at the thrill of it all.
After about the first hour, though, I couldn't stand
the anticipation anymore. Not to mention the sounds of
her thrashing as she awoke where getting a might
irritating. So pulling off to the side of the road, I
reached back to the middle of the back-seat and pulled
it forward. You know what I mean, how some cars, the
middle of the back seat can be pulled down for access
to the trunk? Yeah, there you go.
Getting back on the road, I drove along for a while in
silence. She too was silent from the trunk, obviously
alert to the new found source of light, and curious as
to what it meant. What could she observe from her
position with her back up against this possible source
of freedom? It made the whole thing just that much more
fun. The possible thoughts that where running through
her head, running through mine, but in mine, I was
laughing at them. She was in a hopeless situation, and
that had yet to sink in, and so her mind was focused on
survival, escape, and the like. Which I just found
amusing.
"You still awake back there?" I asked of her, wanting
to toy with her for a while. Not only would it make the
drive seem quicker but it would stave off my simmering
desires. Of course no reply came from her. She was
bound, not to mention confused, scared, and likely
thinking 'maybe if I don't reply he'll stop to check on
me and I can escape.' A thought they all had at first.
"I'm not going to pull over to check on you, by the
way, so you can put that thought right out of your
pretty little head." I said, my joviality and the smile
on my face apparent through my tone of voice.
Once more, the thudding of her flailing body resumed,
as she once more vainly tried to free herself from her
binds. I laughed aloud. "Save your energy, sweaty, I'd
like some fight left in you when we get to where we're
going." I said with a laugh. This only made her thrash
harder, which only made me laugh - and get - harder.
After a few more minutes of silence, I spoke up again
over the din of her thrashing. "So you wanna keep this
up, or you wanna know what's going on?" I asked. I
waited for a moment, but of course no reply came. As
expected. "Oh, forgot, you don't know the system. Bang
on something once for no, twice for yes. OK?" I asked.
Thud. Thud.
"Good girl," I said, my tone patronizing and demeaning,
as if I was speaking to an animal. I knew it pissed her
off, it pissed them all off, but that was part of the
fun.
"So you wanna know what's going on?" I asked.
Thud. Thud.
"Alright, well, it's pretty simple really. I own you
now." I said with a laugh.
Thud.
"Haha! That's a first..." I replied, honestly
surprised. Usually they just started thrashing around
again at my claim of ownership, knowing what it
entailed. Never had one been calm enough to reply with
the system. "You might just be smart enough to get
through this, sweetie." I added.
Thud. Thud.
"Heh," I chuckled, realizing I had myself a one-of-a-
kind. "So, you wanna know where we're going?" I asked,
enjoying the game.
Thud. Thud.
"Some place nice and quiet. Some place, where no one
can hear you scream." I added with a tongue-in-cheek
maniacal laugh. She didn't reply to this though. "Aww,
now don't worry too much, darling. If your as smart and
collected as you seem, you'll get through this alright
and go home to Mommy sooner than not." I said.
It took her a moment to chime back in.
Thud.
"What's this? You don't want to go home to Mommy?" I
asked, surprised. Again a pause before her reply.
Thud.
"Ohhhh, wait, you mean you don't live with your Mommy?"
I asked, catching on.
Thud. Thud.
Still unclear, I put my pride aside and asked for
clarity, "That a yes to you don't live with Mommy?"
Thud. Thud.
"Well who do you live with then, older sister?" I asked
-- her house had been to well kept, and had to much of
a feminine touch to it for a dominant male to be
present.
Thud.
"Step-mom?" I asked.
Thud.
"Grandma?" I asked.
Thud. Thud.
"Ah, well where was she when I came to visit?" I asked
with a chuckle.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
"What?" I asked, confused. "What's yes, yes?" I asked.
Thud.
"Darling, now your not making any sense." I told her,
as I exited the highway by way of the on-ramp.
"Hrrmrmmm!" she screamed, her voice and words muffled
by the gag.
"What?" I asked her again as I got onto the main road.
"Hrrrmmm!" she said again.
A thought dawned on me then for no apparent reason.
"Home? Was she at home?" I asked.
Thud. Thud.
I stopped the car.
She slammed against the back of the seat with a groan.
If the old lady had been home, she could have heard
everything, could have called the cops. Turning in my
seat, I near-frantically asked her, "Where was she?
Upstairs?"
Thud. Thud.
"Fuck!" I blurted, not keen on loosing my cool in front
of her. "So she's likely called the cops already..." I
mused to myself. Despite whispering, she had heard, and
offered a reply.
Thud. Thud.
Then something else occurred to me. What did it matter?
Even if some old lady had called the cops, they
obviously didn't get there until after we'd left.
Likewise, they'd spend the next 20 hours screwing
around, looking for forensics, witnesses, evidence,
none of which existed. "It doesn't matter, you know."
Thud. Thud.
"Nope, sorry. It doesn't matter, and I'm going to tell
you why. See, Grandma can call the cops all she wants.
What's she gonna tell them? You, a 14 year old girl who
lives with a bed ridden old woman is ignoring her? Even
if they came over to the house, found the hall table
all messed up, what does that tell them? It's really of
no concern, sweetie. To the cops, it looks like you ran
off in a huff or something. Even if they put things
together and figure on you being kidnapped, by the time
they get enough information to start tracking you,
we'll be in a different car, on our way to our final
destination." I said, pulling back onto the road now.
This shut her up. Whether or not she had been telling
the truth about Grandma didn't really matter. The cops
could be the world's best detectives, figure it all
out, and throw up a dragnet and it wouldn't matter. We
where already in the mountains, almost ready to switch
cars, and our final destination was quite literally in
the middle of no where. So really it was of no
consequence.
I just had to make sure I was as careful as I already
had been planning on. It was smart though, which really
made me harder for her. Most girls where stupid, ruled
by their emotions, panic stricken, scared and it
showed. So few put up a valiant effort anymore. Those
that did, didn't do so with any intelligence, just
physical strength. I was beginning to get the feeling
that this one was different though.
"So you wanna know more about what's going on, or are
you done talking now that I've shot down your little
escape attempt plan?" I asked her after a couple
minutes back on the road.
Thud. Thud.
"OK, well, it's pretty simple really. You're not gonna
like it, I think, but oh well. You're a little hottie,
so hot I simply had to have you. To that end, well,
here we are, you tied up in my trunk. I could have
tried the whole seduction thing, older guy, younger
girl. I saw how you looked at me at first, you think
I'm good looking enough. Honestly though, I don't have
the time or interest or money for all that. I take what
I want in life, and since I want you, well, I'll have
you." I said.
Thud.
"Hah, so I won't have you then?" I asked.
Thud.
"You know, I've got to give you credit, you're one cool
cucumber. Problem for you though is, that just makes me
want you even more. You should feel how hard I am right
now, at the thought of you and you're tight little
body. Having a brain is a bonus to me, so you're kind
of like the icing and the cake. Usually I only get the
cake." I said with a laugh. "So you want to know more?"
I asked. She thought about it for a moment.
Thud.
"Oh, too bad. Not like you can shut me up." I laughed.
"When we get to where we're going, I'm going to have my
way with you. Call it sex, call it rape, whatever you
want, I don't care. I'm going to fuck you and then
some, beat you into submission either literally or
figuratively, that's up to you, and if you prove
yourself truly smart and worthy enough, I'll let you go
just for the thrill of knowing you might be smart
enough to help the fucking dumbass pigs catch me." I
told her, honestly. "Sound fun to you?" I asked.
Thud.
"Too bad." I replied.
Slowing the car, I turned and pulled into our first
stop. Well, less a stop more a lay-over. It was time to
switch cars, just to be on the safe side. I always
switched cars half-way to the house. It just made more
sense. If someone had seen something, or the cops where
on to me, switching cars gave me my edge back. If not,
it just made it all the more difficult to track me and
my new toy once someone did finally put the pieces
together.
This place was one of the best for switching rides in.
An old bar, just off the highway, on a road that lead
to a lot of hunting cabins. Even when it wasn't season,
it was still always packed around here. Most of the
cars where good choices too, most of them 4X4's or
such. While it didn't give me the security of a trunk,
it was better for the last leg of the trip to the
house.
Pulling around back, I surveyed my options. There where
some better choices up front, but it was too risky to
take one of them. More liable to get spotted by someone
going in or coming out of the joint. Out back though
was where most of the help or any of the regulars
parked. Which meant a longer time in most cases before
the car went missing. Spotting a beat-up Ford Bronco, I
pulled up along side and turned off the car.
"Now you just wait here, sweetie, while I get us a new
ride." I told her, as I opened my door and stepped out,
grabbing the coat hangar from the floor as I did. For
her part, she didn't respond, or even bother to thrash
about.
Moving over to the Bronco's passenger side, I took the
coat hangar, bent it into the proper shape, and dropped
slid it down between the outside of the door and the
window. It took me a few seconds to get the lock. Once
I did I opened the driver's side and the glove box as
well, and popped the trunk.
Closing the passenger side door, I fished my pocket
knife from my pocket, moved around to the driver's side
and climbed in. Feeling around under the steering
column, I found the bundle of wires, and cut the right
ones. Slicing the plastic coating off, I touched the
right wires to each other until the started, then
twirled them together. Checking the fuel gauge, I found
someone was courteous enough to leave me a full tank.
Exiting the running vehicle, I moved quickly to my own
trunk and popped it open with the keys. I hated leaving
the '86 Corvette behind, but it wasn't mine anyway, so
I'd get over it. Opening the trunk, I found her almost
as I'd left her. A little more run down than earlier,
certainly more alert, but otherwise the same. She
squirmed when I reached into the trunk to pick her up,
but the cold steel of the pocket knife against her
throat made her calm down quickly enough.
Depositing her in the back of the Bronco, I returned to
the 'Vette and unscrewed the license plate, tossing it
in the Bronco. I then shifted the 'Vette into neutral
and pushed her forward. It didn't take much as gravity
did the rest, pulling the car down the short slope and
into the water of the murky brown pond that lay beyond.
I watched as the 'Vette sunk in before returning to the
Bronco.
Setting off again, I didn't bother with the game
anymore, and just drove in silence. When she began
thrashing again, with a little less energy than before,
I just turned on the radio, and blasted some classic
rock. Stuff she likely had never heard before, her head
full of shit like today's music, Pop Rock, if you could
even call the shit rock. I may only be a handful of
years older than her, but I could appreciate good
music. I could appreciate a lot...
PART 2
------
Leaning back in the chair, totally shrouded in
darkness, I crossed my arms across my chest, and
appreciated my work. It was now well into the evening,
likely around 8 P.M. or so, and I was only now on the
verge of beginning. The trip here had taken nearly
three hours in all. Once we had arrived, I had
retrieved a bottle of chloroform and a wash cloth from
the house before removing her from the back of the
Bronco, putting the chloroform-dosed rag over her nose,
her mouth still covered by tape. She struggled, of
course, but like before it had been pointless. In
seconds she was out like a light.
I brought her into the cabin then. I had bought the
place a few years ago and been using it for my own
various purposes ever since. It was a simple four-room
cabin. A living room, a kitchen, a bedroom and a
bathroom. Unlike most cabins in the area though, there
was something more. Beneath it was an old, mid-century
bomb shelter. Really a glorified basement. Apparently,
the builder had been one of the many who, in the
1950's, was concerned about 'The Red Menace' so to
speak. Bombs dropping, duck and cover, all that good
stuff.
It had actually made the asking price a little cheaper
than expected. Something about not being a
'traditional' hunting cabin or something. Either way
when I first saw the below-ground portion of the place,
I knew it would come in handy. I'd bought the place on
sight, paying for it through means and methods better
left unsaid. It had taken me a while to figure out just
what to use the place for. Storage for less-than-legal
goods seemed a waste. Not just of the space but in
everything else, as getting such less-than-legal goods
all the way out here was too much of a pain.
When a friend of mine had gone downstairs one day
though, unaware the door locked behind on a combination
code, I discovered the room was sound-proofed. This was
when things really began to come together. It had taken
me some time, but I'd eventually outfitted the place
perfectly. Now, I used it every few months for
something special, just as I was doing right now.
The large open space was currently lit by a single lamp
from above in the center of the room. The result was
the periphery of the room was pitch black. Also in the
center of the room was my center of attention, my new
toy, whose name I did not yet know. She was bound at
the wrists, a rope securing and supporting her, on
either side of her, to a support beam above. She
remained fully clothed despite my own burning desires.
She was also bound at the ankles, though these ropes
went off to either side of her instead of simply to the
floor. These ropes where secured on either side to a
mechanical rig, very much like those on the front of
some SUV's. With the touch of a button on a remote, I
could retract the rope, and as a result, force her to
stand spread-eagle. It would also have the side -effect
of making her unable to stand, thus putting all her
weight on her wrist-binds.
Next to me was a small metal end table, that contained
everything I could imagine needing. An unloaded Gloch
9mm - no need to have it loaded, after all, as it was
for effect only - though a clip was in the locked
drawer below it. A buck knife, which was only present
for cutting lengths of rope, clothing, the like. I
wasn't much for drawing blood. A pair of scissors for
the same purpose, incase the knife wasn't doing the
trick. The bottle of chloroform and the rag, just
incase. A rarely used vibrator, and a pack of smokes,
though they where equally rarely used.
On the opposite side of the room was a single bunk,
military surplus, and a functional toilet, shower and
sink. To my right, equidistant from myself and the
bunk, was a TV, below which was one of the mechanical
rigs. Opposite the TV was the door, attached to which
was the other mechanical rig and beyond it the stairs
which lead up.
Picking up the remote for the TV, I turned it on.
Making sure the volume was up beyond normal, I flipped
channels, focusing on news programs, especially local
ones. In this day and age, if someone disappeared,
especially someone young, it wasn't long until it was
on the news. I wasn't sure if my new toy fell into the
category of those they would put out an Amber Alert
for, since I'd never taken anyone below her age.
I noticed with satisfaction that she was beginning to
stir. I was beyond aroused at this point, beyond horny,
and yet still I was patient. I had yet to even disrobe
myself, let alone her, for I knew with proper diligence
and patience, the end result would be far superior. I
left the TV on, blaring, and turned my attention to
her. It wouldn't take long, even with the after-effects
of the chloroform. Not with her arms supporting all of
her weight.
After a minute or two of moaning and groaning as she
struggled free from the black depths of
unconsciousness, she roared to life with a scream. Not
a shrill, terrified scream, but one that was deeper,
rooted in pain and shock. No doubt hanging from your
arms was painful. I had never bothered to try it
myself. As soon as the scream began though, it was
over. It took her only a moment to realize she had
footing and to make use of it.
Once she was standing, she tried to lower her arms, but
found little slack to allow this. Still, being able to
redistribute her weight to her legs had made a
considerable difference. Already, the few tears that
had flowed from her eyes had stopped, and she was
beginning to look around in an attempt to gauge her
surroundings. She was proving again and again to be
much more than initially met the eye.
Turning off the TV, I drew her attention to it in a
flash. When she realized it had been done by remote,
she began to search the darkness around her. She even
tried to look behind her, despite the pain it must have
caused her worn and weary limbs.
"Over here, sweetie," I said quietly, drawing her
attention towards my general location in an instant.
"There you go." I said, as I stood up from my seat.
Still cloaked in darkness, I began to walk, slowly. "I
figure we should talk a little bit first." I told her.
"Once for no, twice for yes, isn't much of a
conversation, I think you'll agree?" I asked.
She didn't respond.
"When I ask you a question, I expect a response." I
said, nearly at the TV. Still she was silent, tracking
my movement only with quick glances from her eyes,
never moving her head. "Alright, have it your way," I
said, pulling the remote for the ropes from my pocket
and pressing the button. Slowly, the ropes began to
retract to the sides, pulling her footing from her.
Once they had, and she was reliant upon her arms for
support, she cried out. I expected her to fall limp,
held up only by the binds, but she did not.
"Feel like answering now?" I asked, as I cut some slack
on the ropes, and she struggled to regain her footing,
still weak.
"...Yes..." she managed to utter, the pain coursing
through her body unbearable.
She had surprised and delighted me once more though, by
remaining conscious. Most of my guests usually lost it
the first time I retracted the ropes. She was full of
surprises. Which meant I would have to approach it all
from an original perspective.
Stepping out of the shadows, she turned to face me for
the first time, a defiant look in her eyes, hidden
behind a mask of fear, pain, and anger. I had never
chosen a toy based on personality. Well, except for
once, with a ditsy high school cheerleader that had
been easy to coax away just by the allure of an older
man with a car. Still, I had always chosen based on
looks, which always meant the pretty/cute and or
sexy/hot ones. Typically, that type didn't have much
spirit, or much fight in them. They broke as easily as
any 'real' toy - the type intended for children. Just
apply pressure at the right points, treat them
improperly, and snap.
She was to be the first real challenge I had found in
some time, though. She would not break by a combination
of 75% physical pain and 25% emotional and
psychological wear-and-tear. No, it would likely be
more of a 50/50 split with her. Perhaps even, for once,
the psychological would be her dominant? The simple
thrill of the unknown excited me more. And after three
hours of being 'excited' I couldn't stand it much more.
Stepping across the room, back to the table in the
shadows, I retrieved the gun, knife and smokes. The gun
I put in the back of my jeans, and covered with my t-
shirt. The knife I sheathed on my hip, where it was
visible. The pack of smokes I slapped against me hand,
coaxing one of the vile little cancer sticks from it's
carton, and then returned to the table.
Taking a Zippo from my right pocket, I lit the
cigarette with my back to her, replacing the Zippo in
my pocket, as I held the cigarette between my lips.
Then I returned to her, and stood a few paces in front
of her, looking her up and down silently, as if
considering something, when in fact I knew my course of
action well. I'd decided upon it the moment she had
withstood the torment of loosing her footing, and being
supported only by the binds.
"I'm going to remove the binds," I told her, as I took
the cigarette from my lips and exhaled it's vile plume
towards her with my words, "try anything..." I trailed
off, restoring the cigarette to my lips, then putting
my hand to the hilt of the knife, "we'll have to get...
unpleasant." I suggested. She got the point.
Moving right up to her, I paused. I wanted to take care
of one thing first, before removing the binds. Putting
my hand to her cheek, I caressed her soft skin, as she
bore her eyes into mine, refusing to react. Or at
least, to react as she was aware of. She had stiffened
and jerked, slightly, at my touch though. Removing the
cigarette with my left hand, I ran my right hand behind
her head and pulled her forward gently, and moved in
myself, kissing her on the lips as she struggled,
timidly. She didn't struggle much, though, which meant
she was saving her strength and resistance for things
of more importance. She also didn't return the kiss,
which made the experience lacking.
"sweetie, I like some inter-action with my action," I
advised, "so, when I kiss you? Kiss me back. Or we'll
have no more use for that tongue of yours and I might
have to... cut it out." I threatened, the knife
suddenly pressed against her throat, the cold steel a
shock. Once more, the knife still in place, I leaned in
and kissed her. This time, she returned the kiss, our
tongues intertwined. Her heart wasn't in it, though,
which didn't surprise me. So while it was more
physically pleasurable, it was still lacking.
Stalemate.
Breaking away, I sighed with disappointment and
restored the cigarette to my lips, but sheathed the
knife anyway. She had obeyed, technically. It served no
purpose to harm her simply for not being good at faking
it. Crouching, I put my hands to the binding on her
right ankle and began to unbuckle the straps.
"So what is your name, sweetie?" I asked, resuming our
earlier Q-and-A session.
"Alyssa," she replied, quietly, angrily.
"And just how old are you, Alyssa?" I questioned as I
finished with the right ankle, and shifted my stance
for the left.
"Fourteen," she answered. She was keeping her answers
short and to the point. No room for elaboration. No
details except those I specifically asked. Smart.
"That makes you a freshmen at Ridgement, then?" I
queried.
She paused before responding, no doubt wondering how I
knew her school. Keeping her off balance was just one
of the many dozens of tiny psychological jabs I had
already begun to make, and would continue to make, in
my efforts to break her.
"Yes." she replied, finally.
"And what level of sexual experience have you had?" I
asked, coldly, detached, like a Doctor almost. It was
an intimate question, though, that I knew without even
looking, made her blush.
"What do you mean?" she asked as I finished on the left
buckle. I didn't stand up though. Instead, I ran my
right hand up the inside of her left leg as I slowly
stood.
"I mean, has anyone ever touched you... here?" I asked,
as my hand found it's way onto her jean-covered crotch.
She gritted her teeth more, her jaw becoming more
rigid, as I touched her for the first time in an 'out
of bounds' area for most. I didn't flinch though,
didn't blink.
"No." she answered through her teeth.
"Not even a Doctor?" I asked.
"...Only once." she answered.
"Hrm," I responded, running my hand up her waist now,
along her flat stomach, "and what about... here?" I
asked, as my hand ran over her left breast.
"Yes." she answered, looking my straight in the eye,
resiliently. I'd gotten her over any hesitancy or
embarrassment over speaking of sexual things, but
raising the stakes by touching her in an intimate - if
clinical - manner.
"I see. Over, or under?" I asked. It took her a moment
to follow my train of thought.
"Over," she answered.
"I see, I see." I said, running my hand up over her
throat and to her lips. She still had her teeth
clenched, until I tapped on them gently with my finger,
which I then put into her mouth, running it around as
if a dentist, "and what of here? Anything besides a
tongue ever find it's way in here?" I asked.
"Yes." she responded, with some difficulty, as I
continued to probe her mouth with my finger.
Withdrawing it, I wiped the saliva upon her shirt,
before reaching for the bind of her right wrist.
"So was it Adam or Eve that found it's way into your
mouth, Alyssa?" I questioned as I loosened the binds.
"Adam." she answered, as I removed the restraint and
moved for the left.
"Oh? And how many Adams did we service?" I asked, as I
loosened the bind, almost finished.
She didn't answer. Instead, she took a quick step back
as she slammed her lowered right fist into the side of
my head. Quickly, the hand of her partially bound wrist
ran up the length of rope, and she pulled herself up
just in time to kick both feet into my chest, knocking
my back upon the hard cement floor.
'A gymnast. Interesting. She doesn't have the body of
one.' I thought to myself, as I watched her struggle to
remove herself from the last restraint.
Dazed, I didn't bother reaching for the knife nor
retrieving my fallen cigarette, but instead to the gun
which I had landed upon. Her attention focused on the
restraint, she didn't even notice it pointing at her
until I cocked the hammer back with a double-click that
stopped her cold.
"You... " I began, my tone even, "...are going to be a
lot of fun." I finished, laughing as I did, the gun
unwavering. "Go ahead," I said, gesturing with the
fire-arm to the restraints. "Free yourself, go on, I
was planning to anyway." I told her. Hesitantly, she
obeyed, and then simply stood in place. I, meanwhile,
retrieved the cigarette I had lost on my way to the
floor.
Pushing myself to my feet, I side-stepped my way to the
door, and moved to the control panel and activated the
full lights. She blinked as her eyes adapted, and took
stock quickly. "Have a look around," I told her,
lowering the gun to my side. "Again, what I was
planning on having you do, anyway," I said with a
laugh.
Cautiously, she moved about the room, exploring the few
things in it, until she came close to the door.
Stepping back, I gestured to the panel. "Go ahead, try
it." I told her.
Approaching it, she pressed a button labeled "Door" and
was met only with a negative-sounding beep. She tried a
number of others - Exit, Alarm, Intercom - none of them
worked.
"It's keyed into a network," I explained, "and a
combination system. The same combination never works
twice. Though there is a master override incase I
forget that combination, but, believe me, if I ever
need to use it you'll be out cold." I told her. The
first battle had been fought, and I had one. 1-0.
After a moments silence, she spoke, for the first time
without being prompted to.
"What's this all about? What do you want with me?" she
asked, a tremble in her angry voice.
"I told you all of that in the car. Or don't you
remember?" I responded as I retrieved my AWOL cigarette
from the concrete floor.
"So you just want to... what? ...rape me?" she asked,
afraid, but also confused, indignant.
"Rape is such an ugly word." I replied, taking one last
long drag from the cigarette before throwing it to the
cement floor and snuffing it with my boot. "I want
to... possess you. To be one with you. To be inside of
you." I tried to explain, though I didn't really fully
understand it all myself.
"Are you..." she began, before timidly trailing off.
"Go on," I prompted.
"Are you... going to kill me?" she asked.
"No," I answered her, "I don't want to kill you,
believe me. It's not really my style. Though, if I have
to, I will." I informed her.
"What do you mean, if you have to?" she questioned.
"If you try to escape, if you consistently disobey me,
if you attack me or attempt to hurt or kill me, in any
way." I explained.
"I'm not just going to let you rape me." she told me,
flat out.
"Technically, if you let me have my way with you, it
wouldn't really be rape, now would it?" I replied. "No,
I wouldn't expect you to just allow me to do as I would
with you. Defending yourself is still instinctual for
you. But we'll change that, and many other things, over
time. No, I mean, if you try to be malicious, if you
try to fashion some sort of weapon while you're alone,
if you try to take my weapon... any of that is
unacceptable, and will result in considerable harm
coming to you." I said.
Again she fell silent, no doubt contemplating a number
of things, not the least of which was all I had said
and her own fate.
"What do you mean you'll... change things, over time?
How long do you plan on keeping me here?" she queried.
"As long as is needed." I said in reply.
"Needed for what?" she asked.
"To break you," I replied, as if it was obvious, "to
break your spirit. To tear you down to the bare
essentials, and to rebuild you, as I see fit." I
explained.
Once more she fell silent, only this time, the look in
her eyes shifted from confusion, to a degree of
understanding and defiance.
"...You're insane." she accused, point blank.
"Maybe," I replied with a shrug - something she hadn't
expected, "it could be worse, though. I could be a
sadist who wanted to torture and kill you. Or hell,
even one of those freaks who eat people." I offered,
dead-pan, before erupting in mock- maniacal laughter. I
was truly enjoying playing these games with her. If she
did indeed think me insane, all the better. You can't
understand the insane, and people always fear what they
don't understand. 2-0, she was afraid.
Stepping back, I moved to the locked end table, and
retrieved the key for it from around my neck. Unlocking
it, I deposited both the gun and knife into it, before
sealing it once more, and returning the key to it's
place around my neck.
"Take off your clothes." I told her, once I had
finished.
"No." she replied in defiance.
"I wasn't asking." I replied.
Then I struck.
PART 3
------
Darting towards her, I managed to grab hold of her left
arm, as she flailed about, and struck me with her
right. Twisting her left arm, I spun her around, and
slammed her face-first into the cement wall, pinning
her arm behind her. I then pressed my right fore-arm
against the back of her neck, holding her in place.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," I told
her, "it's up to you."
Her only response was to try in vain to hit me with her
free right arm. Taking that as her choice, I smiled to
myself, before grabbing her by her shoulder-length
blond hair and pulling her from the wall to the center
of the room. There, I retrieved the restraint for her
left wrist. Attempting to restrain her with it renewed
her vigor, but not for long. Releasing her, I didn't
even give her the chance to notice before I back-handed
her, sending her spinning to the floor.
Pulling her up by her left arm, I forced her to her
feet, and attached the restraint before she could stop
me. Taking her by the throat, she tried to claw at me
with her still free right hand. Forcing that hand to
the restraint, I clasped it, too. As she tried to kick
at me, I moved quickly behind her, and wrapped my arm
around her neck, restricting her airflow.
"Try all you like to hurt me," I whispered into her
ear, "if you ever succeed, I'll only enjoy it, and just
punish you for your defiance." I told her. 3-0.
Releasing her from my grasp, I moved to the door and
entered the current combination.
"Four-six-one-nine-three," I told her, knowing she was
trying to see without even looking, "try it as many
times as you like, it's already invalid." I informed
her as I exited into the stair well. There, I retrieved
a large steel drum, dragging it across the cement floor
to a place about six feet in front of her. Once more
removing the key from around my neck, I unlocked the
table and retrieved the knife, leaving the drawer open
and the key upon it.
"Now, I wouldn't try and kick me while I've got this,"
I warned, unsheathing the knife, "or I might just trip
and fall and... stab you. Repeatedly." I idly
threatened. Stepping towards her, she resisted the
impulse to try and harm me, if only out of fear.
Placing the knife to her neck, I cut into the collar of
her t-shirt. I then took hold of the fabric with my
other hand, and tore into it, before simply ripping it
down the middle, exposing her bra-covered tits, and her
flat stomach. Cutting again on each sleeve, I again
tore the rest of the way, until the shirt fell to the
floor with ceremony, without indulging my desires to
run my touch her. Crouching down, I left myself
vulnerable to an attack, but none came. 4-0.
Picking up the t-shirt, I stepped back to the steel
drum, and retrieved the Zippo from my pocket, which I
held beneath the torn garment. Clicking it on, it took
a moment for the fabric to catch. Once it had, I held
it above the drum for a moment.
"You... are... mine." I told her, finally dropping the
shirt into the drum. A burst of flame rose from it an
instant later, the flame catching upon the scraps of
paper and wood coated in lighter fluid.
"You will enjoy no privileges except those I deem you
have earned. Clothing. Food. Drink. Privacy. Sleep.
Even using the toilet, or the shower. All are
privileges." I told her, as I circled around her, and
approached now from behind. Once more, she did not
attempt to attack me. The knife seemed to be keeping
her in line. 5-0.
Placing the cold steel upon her warm flash at the nape
of her neck, she startled for a moment. Drawing it down
along her spine, I stopped at the clasp of her bra,
which I undid with my fingers rather than cutting it.
Moving around in front of her, the bra hanging now,
barely concealing her firm breasts, I placed my hand
upon her stomach, and slid it up slowly, between her
breasts. Grabbing the center of the bra, I pulled
quickly and firmly, breaking the elastic straps, and
exposing her tits. I tried in vain to hide my own
thrill, just as she tried in vain to hide her feelings;
humiliation now paramount amongst them, as she fought
back tears.
Difficult as it was not to caress her warm skin, I
moved away once more to the drum, and deposited the bra
into the fire. In the cold of the cement cellar, her
nipples quickly became erect, and I found it
increasingly difficult to continue with my planned
lesson. Once more I circled around her before
approaching from behind. Running my hands around her
waist, I pressed the front of my body against the back
of hers, and whispered into her ear as I undid the
clasp and zipper of her jeans. "You are mine, Alyssa,
darling," I told her, "nothing can change that. Accept
it and obey me, and you'll survive."
Moving around in front of her, I roughly yanked the
jeans down from her waist, exposing a pair of sky blue
lace panties in the process. The fabric was thin, and
the outline of her barely-there bush could be faintly
made out through the thin material. Applying the knife
to the crumpled jeans, I cut through them as if I had a
saw, before tearing them down the middle. I then cut
the hem of each leg, before tearing them as well. Once
removed, I withdrew to the drum again, and deposited
them into the flames.
Looking back at her, the sight of her wearing only the
pair of thin, sky blue lace panties, her arms held
above her head, a look of anger and humiliation upon
her tear-streaked face, was enough to make my blood
boil hotter than the fire fueled by her clothing. It
was a battle within myself to not simply take her, here
and now, strung up and all. The thought of slamming my
hard cock into her virgin pussy as tears streamed down
her face, tears I would lick clean from her cheeks, in
between whispering the truth into her ear - that she
was mine... that thought was almost too much for me.
Almost.
With great effort, I reminded myself of the big
picture. As my finger tips hovered a foot or so away
from her taught ass, bound only by worn-out cotton, I
centered myself. Closing my eyes, I counted to ten
within my mind before looking upon her supple flesh
once again. Temptation reared it's ugly head, but
without the same gusto as it had moments ago. I was in
control. Even I had to admit to having limits on how
long I could retain said control over my own desires.
Stepping around in front of her, I looked into her
sapphire blue eyes. Glistening with barely restrained
tears, they where with defiance and strength. Placing
my right hand upon her face, I caressed her supple
flesh of her left cheek as she held my gaze, determined
not to provide me with a reaction. Her strength and
struggle only fed my faltering control.
Sliding my hand down around her neck, I left it there
for a moment, the implied threat of strangulation
obvious. Sliding my fingers down across her collar
bone, along her sternum between her supple breasts and
over her abdomen as she breathed steadily, I finally
found my fingers brushing over the elastic waist band
of the blue lace underwear she wore. Her last vestige
of privacy and control. Sliding my hand around to her
hip, I mirrored the gesture, adding my other hand to
her other hip. Sliding my thumbs beneath the elastic, I
began to tug gently, slowly, at the last item of
clothing left to her.
New tears escaped her eyes, but she held back any
audible sign of her fear, humiliation, or sense of
violation. Easing the fabric down to the point where
the first few strands of blond pubic hair became
visible, I felt her body quiver as her inner battle
grew that much more difficult. Sliding my other fingers
beneath the elastic.
I suddenly and forcefully tore at the fabric, ripping
it apart and off of her hips, causing her to startle
and yelp with surprise. Holding the tattered pair of
panties in my hand, I admired the neatly trimmed tuft
of hair adorned above her tight slit. Stepping back, I
held the final garment over the flaming barrel, but
instead of dropping them in, I tossed them over to the
chair. "A memento of the moment." I told her.
Standing there, I admired her nubile young form.
Despite her mussed hair and puffy, tear-stained eyes,
her beauty was without doubt. Her body was unmarred in
any fashion I could see. I watched her as she breathed,
the skin and muscle taught against her ribs. Her firm
breasts, her nipples hard on physical instinct, where
the definition of perfection.
Her hips, her thighs, even her feet; everything about
her was just right, as if I had conjured her from his
own mind's eye by will alone. For the first time in
many years, a thought entered my mind that seemed alien
to me. A question of what I was doing, what I would do,
what I wanted. Doubt. Not because of some inner moral
battle being waged, but because of my own fears of what
if...
She represented more than fulfillment of my desires.
More than a play thing for me to enjoy. More than
another conquest. She now stood for all that I had
wanted, all that I would ever want. Perfection. Once I
had obtained that, once I had taken her as my own...
what would be left? What would I hunger for once I had
eaten of the forbidden fruit? And once I had broken
her, would I destroy that very perfection that I so
desired and now had before me? Would the rest of my
life be nothing more than a search for what I had now?
Would I feel only the same post-high let-down for
decades to come, like a kid after Christmas morning
once all the gifts had been unwrapped?
As quickly as this thought came to me, it vanished. She
was only a thing for my pleasure. Perhaps the most
perfect specimen I had yet to obtain, yes, but that
only meant the quest for another like her would be that
much more of a challenge. My doubt and fear was
foolish, like a child afraid of the monster under the
bed. Invigorated by this realization, I knew what must
be done next, less my doubts have the opportunity to
re-emerge.
While it was an unorthodox acceleration of the normal
plan, it would not effect it. Taking her now rather
than letting her anxiety overcome her meant nothing in
the long run; It was simply a preference; it prolonged
the anticipation and enhanced the moment when it came.
This time, though, I had little choice in the matter.
The bigger picture would be best served by squashing
any doubts or debates about perfection.
Moving over to her, I held the knife to her throat with
my left hand as I undid the binds holding her left
wrist, then stepped back, instructing her, "Remove the
rest of the binds."
She kept her defiant eyes upon me as she struggled for
a moment with her right wrist's bond. One that was
undone, she seemed to pause as if to consider covering
her naked flesh with her hands, but just as quickly
realized the utter futility of such. With her legs
spread by the restraints, she could not bend at the
waist to release her ankles, but had to crouch. This
afforded me a handsome view of her small protruding
clit in the process.
As quickly as her first leg was free though, her legs
snapped shut. I had to restrain myself from laughing.
She wasn't going to be an easy conquest, thankfully.
Once she was finally free of her binds, she remained
crouched. I considered this for a moment before I
realized it was a tactical decision. A prime position
for defense or offense.
"On your knees, hands behind your head, and turn
around." I commanded.
She didn't move. I tightened my grip on the knife.
After a moments further pause, she complied, turning
and kneeling, placing her hands behind her head. Back-
stepping, I unlocked the drawer containing the gun
while continuing to face her. Placing both her panties
and the knife within it, I locked it once more. Then I
moved out in a wide circle around her to the door,
where I opened a small hatch at the top, tossing the
key out into the corridor. Though I was now unarmed, so
was she - and I was the only one who could open the
door. The tactical advantage remained mine.
"Now, stay on your knees and move over to the cot." I
told her.
The length of time she hesitated decreased this time,
as she began to realize she had little physical
recourse. Her battle could only be waged now through
mental means. As she shuffled over to the cot, I came
up along side her, unafraid of any physical assault she
might launch.
She couldn't actually hurt me, after all. When we
arrived at the cot, I didn't ask for her to move up on
to it; I simply grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up
and throwing her forward as I did. A yelp of shock and
pain escaped her lips to my satisfaction. As I prepared
to bind her to the bed, a thought occurred to me. The
binds where typically to enhance my play-thing's sense
of helplessness. In this case though, they seemed more
likely to make her feel less able to resist, and
perhaps would serve to bolster her spirits.
Wanting her to see what was about to impale her tight
virgin cunt, I undid the button and fly of my pants and
slid them down around my ankles. Her eyes locked onto
my firm 9 inch cock, it's girth two-thirds of her
forearm. Her expression was a combination of curiosity
due to her age and inexperience, and horror at the
concept of something much larger than the lone teenage
boy she had blown invading her snatch by force and
without mercy. "I usually start off by giving your the
honor of sucking my cock until you choke on my cum, but
for you, Alyssa, my sweet young cunt, I'm making a rare
exception." I informed her with a grin and a laugh.
As I stepped towards her, she began to kick and flail
her arms, slamming her small fists into me with all her
meager strength. I didn't deflect the blows, nor did I
hit her in turn. I simply waited for a few moments and
laughed, amused. Grabbing her wrists, I forced her
hands over her head and took hold of a handful of her
hair as well, yanking hard to draw her attention. As
she lost focus on her volley of kicks, I forced myself
between her flailing legs and kneeled down my left knee
upon her right thigh, all of my weight clamping it to
the cot. Her remaining free leg could only annoy my
right hip with futility now.
Yanking her hair again - this time so hard a chunk tore
out from her flesh - I stunned her long enough to slap
the back of my right hand across her face. I then
clamped my hand down around her throat and pressed in
close to her, my mouth up against her ear as I
whispered, "I'm going to fuck you raw until you bleed,
then lap the blood up with my tongue and spit it in
your face, you little bitch."
Without waiting a moment for her to even absorb the
words, I drove my prick all the way inside her taut
cunt. Her barely audible scream was almost enough to
make me cum there and then. Again, tears flowed from
her eyes as a trickle of blood did likewise from her
hole. The shock to her system combined with the lack of
oxygen was almost enough to make her pass out, but
another, softer slap across the face kept her alert.
Pulling out almost totally, I slammed my cock into her
again as deeply as I could, pulling back out and
slamming in once more before she had a chance to
recover. I began to truly fuck her, hard and fast,
slamming my hips into hers again and again, the only
lubrication her own virginal blood. She was so tight,
it was tough to fit myself inside of her, but I forced
it again and again.
Over the years, I had built up an exercised tolerance,
and so was able to fuck her for nearly an hour without
pause before finally allowing myself the satisfaction
of blowing my load. During the course of the hour, I
tore at her meager but beautiful tits, pinching her
twisting her tiny hardened nipples until they, too,
began to bleed. Once I came within her, I barely gave
her a moments rest before retrieving a large dildo from
the foot of the cot and slamming it up into her over
and over still, as I allowed my well-worn cock a rest.
The lips of her cunt where now so red and swollen, they
where twice the size. I showed her no mercy as I
continued to fuck her with the dildo for another 20
minutes until my own member was ready once more. The
life, energy, and defiance drained from her long ago, I
flipped her onto her stomach and forced her small,
toned ass into the air, spreading her cheeks and
fingering her puckered asshole with my pinky.
"Nooooo!" she cried out in vain, without even the
energy any longer to try and fight back.
Slamming the dildo back into her battered cunt, I
activated the vibration setting and left it inside of
her as I forced my cock up her perfect little ass. It
was tighter even than her cunt had been, and the pain
this time was enough to knock her out. Not satisfied
with her escaping a moment of my pleasure, I yanked her
head back by her hair once more and slapped her until
she woke before returning to my task at hand. Slamming
my hips against her ass over and over, I played with
her tits once more, squeezing and torturing them as I
fucked her from behind like a proper bitch.
As I neared climax this time, I withdrew from her tight
little ass and pulled her from the cot onto the cold
hard cement floor. Turning her over, I straddled her
chest and pulled her head up, forcing my cock inside of
her mouth and forcing her to swallow every last drop.
I took only a moments rest for myself before returning
my attentions to her. Picking her up by the throat, I
forced her to stumble along behind me as I returned her
to her bindings. Clamping her hands into the manacles
once more, she hung there limp and weak like a broken
Childs toy. Squirming at the incessant stimulation of
the vibrator still shoved up her cunt by her own body,
a betrayal of sorts, I left the device in place.
I knew from experience that the batteries would require
at least 8 hours to run out. That was if the devices
tiny motor didn't burn out first. I was hopeful for the
latter, as the feeling of burning and melting plastic
from within one's own cunt was, I had been told, quite
unpleasant.
Retrieving my discarded pants from the floor, I carried
them bunched under one arm as I input the newest code
into the door lock. Acquiring the key to the end table
drawer from the hall, I unlocked it and withdrew my
tools from within. The gloch and the knife, I took with
me. The TV remote, I used before returning to it's
place, tuning the device to the local news station and
increasing the volume to half of maximum - enough to be
a disturbance to my new play thing, for sure. Once
outside, the door sealed behind me, I allowed myself a
moments rest before trudging up the stairs to the
basement, and from the basement to the first floor of
my meager abode.
Once top-side, I donned a pair of boxers before sitting
down at my laptop and interfacing with the downstairs
system. Activating a spot-light in the room, it's
intense glare stirred the battered and weary Alyssa
once again. I set the program to activate and
deactivate the light at set random times, to ensure she
got little rest before the next phase began. Likewise,
I programmed the small shower-head in the ceiling above
to follow in similar fashion. Sudden flashes or
complete loss of light, sudden cold or scalding
showers, all would ensure the process continued
uninterrupted. Finally, I activated all the proper
security programs and alarms.
My initial task finally complete, I retired to my own
bed, and climbed beneath the warm sheets. It had been a
long day, and the days to come would be longer still. I
slept, comfortable in the knowledge that my toy would
not, and pleased with myself for a job well done. Today
was the beginning of a beautiful thing.
The End?
S.R.
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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 57