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Otherwise Engaged

By: krr1957



This story deals with themes of reluctance and coercion in a female dominant setting.

If you think that you might be offended please try a different story.

Otherwise Engaged

Chapter One

Once inside the club we decided to stick to beer only because it was the cheapest option. I was not used to drinking in litres and I was losing track of how much I had actually consumed.

I checked myself in the mirror of the men's room and decided that I was mildly drunk.

The club was in a basement on Reestraat, on the fringes of the red light district, and would not have been an obvious choice, but a couple of guys from work had been in Amsterdam on a stag night a few months earlier and they had recommended it.

The subdued lighting disguised the shabbiness of the fixtures and fittings but our eyes were glued to the small stage area set at the centre of the circular bar. Two girls were pole dancing to a track by The XX.

I loved the music, and this was the last setting in which I would have expected to hear it, but the girls were completely tuned in to the languid rhythm and they held far more allure than anything I had seen in London clubs.

Neither of them was particularly stunning but they were both naturally well-endowed and knew how to make the best of what they had. Every now and again they would reach out to one another suggestively egged on by the small audience and, not least, my four companions.

All around the bar there were small balls each made up of a single bunched stocking. We were encouraged to roll up Euro notes, insert them into the balls, and toss them beyond the bar staff into baskets strategically placed on the stage.

Some recess in my mind registered that this was a clever idea as clients vied with one another to 'score' in the baskets but the club heavies were watching carefully to make sure that only bank notes were thrown.

Another beer arrived and I was wishing that I had had more to eat but now other girls were trying to draw us away from the bar stalls into the lounge area where lap dances were on offer.

My friends pooled some funds and I was entertained by a stunning Eurasian girl wearing no more than a G-string. It was a real strain to keep to the 'no touching' rule and, as she swayed in front of me, her curtain of lustrous black hair reached almost to the perfect peach of her backside. 

I was erect from the outset and as she started to rub herself against me there was an imminent danger of severe embarrassment.

It was at that moment that something in the atmosphere changed. The girl continued to writhe to the heavy beat of the music but all conversation had been stilled. A few seconds later the reason became obvious. 

The woman who had entered the club drew everyone's eyes and not without good reason. She stood tall in a pair of vertiginous heels but a first look was enough to confirm that she was perfectly proportioned.

Her pale evening dress clung where it touched and had me guessing whether or not she was wearing a bra. When I checked out her face her eyes caught mine and her smile suggested that she could read my thoughts. 

She had her dark hair drawn back tightly into a ponytail and if she was wearing make-up it was minimal and expertly applied. At first sight I thought that her eyes were brown but now I saw that they were deepest blue. Her full lips parted in a smile to reveal perfect teeth suggesting high maintenance and I wondered what on earth she was doing in a place like this.

She ordered a drink in passing and took a seat on the sofa almost opposite me. As she sat she crossed her legs allowing her skirt to ride up high and I could see that she was wearing stockings.

The girl faltered in her routine for a second or two and she was clearly as intrigued as I was. Conscious of my wavering attention she turned to face me once more, offering up her modest breasts, and I noted that her nipples were now standing rigidly to attention.

It was a sight that would otherwise have held me spellbound but I could not help but glance beyond her to where the mystery woman sat with a look of mild amusement on her face. She sat with her chilled glass touched against her chest and, when she came to sip her drink, the sheer fabric of her dress was dampened.

If she was throwing out a challenge to the dancer there was clearly only one winner. The simple distension of her dark nipple as it reacted to the cold was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen. It just carried on swelling as if it would break free of the flimsy encumbrance of her dress.

Not to be outdone the girl slid her fingers down inside her thong and it was no mere pretence. Within seconds I could smell her arousal and I wondered just how far she was permitted to go.

She turned away from me again and I could see the wetness of her fingers as they flexed against the resistance of her g string.

It took a moment to realize that, even though her tush was almost in my face, she was no longer performing for my benefit alone. 

The woman relaxed more deeply into the sofa and, as she did so, she allowed her skirt to ride up even higher and her finger idly teased at the welt of her stocking. She was looking directly at the girl and she cocked her head almost imperceptibly in a gesture that might have been taken for an invitation.

I thought that I was about to be abandoned but she had already been paid and she kept up her end of the bargain. Her slow, sinuous, movements were still dictated by the rhythm of the music but her fingers were dancing to a much faster tempo.

She eased backwards, straddling my legs, and whether by design or otherwise, she fleetingly touched my fierce erection. 

The urge to press against her was almost overwhelming but one of the security staff was now hovering more closely. I could see that he too was fascinated and he looked unsure about intervening. He turned away and spoke into his radio mike.

I could see tiny pin pricks of perspiration forming in the small of her back and her breath was coming more quickly. Somewhere, lost in the background, my friends, and others, were urging her on but she needed no encouragement.

Another stolen glimpse revealed the stranger with her mouth slightly opened and her top lip moistened by the tip of her tongue. Her expression, combined with her sense of total control, added up to one of the most erotic sights I had ever seen.

The girl looked to be losing her composure. She leant back against me, as much to retain her balance as to increase my arousal, and as she unrestrainedly worked her fingers inside her sex the back of her hand rubbed my tortured manhood.

I cast a frantic look at the security guy but he was earnestly engaged in an agitated conversation. As he looked towards me I could see the disbelief on his face. The girl stifled a scream as she surrendered to the inevitable whilst I tried, and failed, to stop the seemingly endless eruption that now ruined my pants.

To her credit the girl recovered quickly. There was no question of waiting for a tip as she ignored the cheering and rushed back towards the dressing room. I was left staring at the woman who cast a mocking glance down at my crotch and then discretely simulated a round of applause before she drained her drink and got up to leave.

Still shell-shocked I roused myself and dashed to the rest rooms. Taking stock, my trousers were beyond redemption and I quickly came to a decision. Our hotel was only five minutes away in a taxi and I could be there and back before my friends became overly concerned.

My decision made I headed for the rear exit of the club where the doorman nodded me through without a word. I found myself in a back street where three girls, plying for trade, made towards me. 

Politely rebuffing them I made my way down the street to the main road where I was relieved to see a taxi waiting at the kerbside. I was just giving thanks when an elderly woman, coming from the opposite direction, reached the cab first. 

Perhaps unfairly I cursed her but her exchange with the driver was both brief and heated. She walked away indignantly and I assumed that he was not for hire yet his yellow sign was illuminated.

With nothing to lose I strode up and gave the name of our hotel. He looked at me carefully and I assumed that he was checking to see if I was drunk. Thankfully, he did not take in the obvious source of embarrassment and he accepted the fare. 

He turned the cab back into the street from which I had emerged and picked his way along a tortuous route including a darkened alley lined with commercial garbage bins. I suspected that I was being taken for a ride, in more ways than one, and I tapped him on the shoulder.

He smiled and explained in reasonable English that the main road was closed due to a traffic accident and that he was delivering me to the rear of the hotel. I did not recognize any landmarks in the darkness but, a moment or two later, the cab came to a halt in a narrow street comprising a number of service entrances.

As I paid the fare he vaguely indicated an ill-lit doorway just ahead before reversing and disappearing into the night.

I felt slightly uneasy and I tensed when the headlights of a stationary van suddenly blazed on. Two figures appeared from the darkness and my immediate instinct was to turn and run but as they moved towards me I saw that they were both female.

My next thought was that I was going to be propositioned again and, were it not for my need to get changed, I might have been tempted. The girls were both tall and clad from head to foot in a form fitting dark material that put me in mind of cinematic superheroes.

They moved lithely, with practised ease, and I wondered if, perhaps they were dancers. I thought that they might walk past me but I was clearly in their sights. As they moved closer one of them produced a pair of handcuffs.

There was no way that they were policewomen, even special units did not dress like that, so what was their purpose? As I tried to make sense of it the woman with the handcuffs spoke in accented English.

"We can make this easy or we can make it painful. It's up to you."

Something about her suggested that it was not an empty threat but then the penny dropped. This was clearly a set up.

I knew my friends were planning something; I just had not figured on anything quite so elaborate. They had obviously asked the cab driver to park up so that he would see me whichever way I left the club and he had clearly been at pains to make a positive identification.

After all their efforts I did not want to be a spoilsport and so, albeit reluctantly, I smiled and offered my hands. 

The woman seemed surprised, and cast a glance at her companion, but she quickly secured my wrists and led me towards the van.

I was ushered into the rear where there were two bench seats. I took one and the women sat opposite after closing the doors. 

The van set off and I tried, good-heartedly, to engage them in conversation but they remained stonily silent. I had to give them marks for staying in character and so I simply sat there mentally undressing them and wondering where it all might lead.

The journey took about a quarter of an hour, a lot longer than I anticipated, and judging by the diminished traffic noise we were now outside the city centre. I heard the sound of gravel under the tires and then the van came to a halt. 

The women opened the doors and I jumped out after them. We seemed to be at the back of a large town house detached from its neighbours by some distance. They led the way to a set of railings set around the head of a stone staircase. I followed them down to what was, presumably, the basement, but I was surprised to be confronted by an expensive steel door more in keeping with a commercial premises.

Inside proved stranger still. I was expecting something utilitarian, perhaps a garage space, but I was led along a corridor with doors either side suggesting that the area extended beyond the boundaries of the building.

The women opened a door and invited me to lead the way. I was no sooner inside, and trying to make sense of it, when they closed the door behind me. 

Before I could react I heard a key in the lock and then I saw that there was no door handle on the inside.

The room was, in fact, a cell. At first glance it looked like a budget hotel room with a single bed and a simple table and chair. It did not have a window but an illuminated panel built into the wall gave the illusion of daylight.

One corner of the room was screened by a steel sheet behind which there was a toilet, basin and shower unit.

My first thought was that this set-up must have cost my friends a small fortune. I could imagine the anguish of a genuine bridegroom, out of contact and needing to get to church the following day perhaps, but that did not apply to me.

Fortunately, I had recharged my phone before setting out for the evening but it only took a few seconds to establish that I had no signal.

I guessed that the form was to keep me locked up for a couple of hours and then, perhaps, a bit of fun with the girls but I assumed that if I kicked up a fuss they would let me go sooner.

In the event the girls returned less than ten minutes later. They came into the cell together, removed the handcuffs, and then stood away from me. 

"Get undressed."

I looked at them and smiled.

"I'm game if you are..." 

They looked puzzled but I had no qualms. I keep in shape and my summer tan was still to fade completely. I also knew that I was fortunately well endowed and, as I slowly took off my clothes, I could feel a renewed stirring.

The girls looked arousing in their tight fitting kit and the prospect of going a round with one, or perhaps both of them, was fuelling my libido. They led me out of the room and I hoped that we were finally headed somewhere more appropriate for what I firmly had in mind. 

I was to be disappointed as we entered a much larger room which was no less stark than the cell we had just left. The girls seemed wary of me, but if they expected me to play the role of reluctant prisoner they were going to be disappointed.

I noticed the two CCTV cameras set in the corners of the room and I assumed that my friends were ensconced somewhere having a laugh at my expense. I smiled and waved towards one of the cameras resignedly and then the girls lowered a trapeze bar from the ceiling. 

They secured my wrists to the ends of the bar with velcro fastened straps and then my arms were drawn upwards. I felt absurd but, even if my friends published photographs, as they undoubtedly would, the presence of the two girls was likely to incite envy rather than ridicule. 

I was about to ask what came next when I was totally taken aback. Standing in the doorway, with the same enigmatic smile on her face, was the woman from the club. 

Once the initial shock had passed I felt I had to give my friends credit. The set-up was more elaborate than I could have imagined but then I had to remember, with only the tiniest hint of guilt, that it was not our money that was funding it.

She walked slowly into the room her heels sounding sharply against the tiled floor.

"Hello again. Welcome to my domain."

Her English was perfect with only a hint of an accent but that only added to her mystique. I felt a powerful yearning for her but, in some strange way, her presence made me feel vulnerable. 

She ran her fingers over my torso as if I were some kind of specimen and then spoke again.

"I would normally wait but I have been asked to conduct the preliminary session right away."

It seemed an odd thing to say but even as I pondered it one of her two assistants, as I now thought of them, slid open a full height wall cupboard to reveal a fetishist's fantasy of s&m paraphernalia. 

I groaned in dismay now knowing that my friends intended to compound my humiliation. I had seen a couple of films in which bored porn actresses wielded toy whips whilst spouting nonsensical abuse and it did absolutely nothing for me. 

Confirming my fears both assistants armed themselves with an implement that looked like a bootlace on a stick and then took up station behind me. There was a brief silence during which the lights above me noticeably brightened and there was a faint whirr as the two camera lens visibly extended.

Seemingly satisfied, the woman gave the slightest of nods and then the gates of hell were opened. 

The sound was innocuous, like the chirrup of some exotic bird, but when the whip wrapped itself across my back it felt as if a hot wire had been set to my skin and there was a sharp sting as the tip flicked at my ribs.

I gave an involuntary yelp and tried to move from the direction of the attack but I only succeeded in opening myself to a second strike from the other side. Within seconds I had been struck a dozen times and I shouted loudly.

"Enough!"

I am no wimp but these girls knew their stuff. Each stroke was more painful than the last and I could feel a ladder of welts forming on my back. 

The girls paused for a moment but the respite was momentary. The woman stared directly into my eyes and quietly spoke a single word.

"Harder..."

The strokes resumed, falling two by two, but this time the sound of the whips was more purposeful and the target was my buttocks and the backs of my legs. I tried to step away from them but they seemed to predict my evasions and each strike unfailingly found its target.

My friends might have thought that this was fun but, as far as I was concerned, it had gone too far and I bellowed with fury.

"Stop this right now!"

There was another hiatus but this time the woman looked up towards one of the cameras. 

"Would you like us to stop?"

In response a single red light atop the unit flashed briefly. I took this a positive sign as the two assistants returned to the wall cupboard and carefully put away their whips. Had I known that this was to be the extent of my ordeal I might have borne it better; I hated losing face in front of this woman not least because I still cherished hopes of getting her between the sheets.

I stood waiting to be released trying to ignore the burning sensation that spread from my shoulders to the back of my knees but then a raw scream was torn from my throat.

I was driven forward by a powerful stroke that felt as if it had cleaved my backside in two. I turned in time to see the second blow coming but too late to do anything about it. 

The assistants had armed themselves with leather straps at least eighteen inches long attached to stout wooden handles. These new torture devices looked decidedly heavy but the two girls hefted them with practised ease. 

I continued to scream as they laid into me reigniting the blazing pain in my back and legs but each stroke fell with the weight of a well-timed punch.

I turned towards them spittle flying as I hurled expletives but even through the pain I was aware of their impassive expressions as they remained completely unmoved by my plight or my threats.

When they finally stopped I could see perspiration beading their brows, paying testament to their exertions, but I felt as if I had been pounded by a professional heavyweight. 

One of them reached up to release my wrist, and I readied myself to vent my anger, but the woman forestalled her.

"Leave him. He can have a couple of hours to think about it."

I could not believe what I was hearing and I yelled at them as they left the room without another word. The lights went down and the door closed solidly behind them.

I looked up at the cameras but they looked dormant and I began to fear that my friends had headed off to another bar and left me to it. I told myself that they would be back shortly but time drifted by and the growing cramps in my arms and legs began to vie for my attention along with my scorched skin.


Otherwise Engaged



At some point I must have fitfully drifted off because I was brought back to reality by the sudden brightness of the lights. The reappearance of the three women immediately reignited my anger and I was prepared to lash out as they began to release me. 

They had arrived with a hospital gurney but if they thought that they were having any more fun with me they were badly mistaken. When my arms were freed they flared with pain as I tried to bring them to my sides and I started to swear in earnest once more.

They were unfazed by my outburst, and certainly did not seem in fear of me, and I had clearly underestimated my vulnerability. With no warning a foot shot out and caught me squarely between the legs. 

I would have dropped to my knees but they deftly caught me up and laid me on the bed. I was only dimly aware as my wrists were secured once more and I was wheeled back to the cell from which I had started.

I do not know for how long I was left alone but it felt like hours. I fell into a broken sleep but was woken every time I tried to move.

Eventually they returned and this time I tried to stay calm and reason with them.

"Look, I don't know what my friends told you, or how much they paid you, but I've had enough. I can enjoy a joke as well as the next man but this has gone too far."

The woman looked at me curiously.

"Your friends probably haven't even missed you yet. As far as they are concerned a beautiful woman came on to you and you disappeared shortly after she left the bar. They probably consider you a very lucky man."

It took me a moment to process what she was saying with the intimation that my friends had nothing to do with all this. I had a hundred questions but before I could even begin to speak a ball gag was forced into my mouth and fastened securely at the back of my head.

I thrashed within my restraints and yelled to the extent that I could but they simply watched and waited until I calmed down. They began to tighten straps across my chest and stomach and, although I kicked out wildly, I was no match for them as they finally secured my ankles.

The two assistants donned latex gloves and I was brought out in a cold sweat fearing that I had fallen victim to a group of organ harvesters. I shook my head and implored them but could do nothing to stop them as they proceeded to shave my groin and then finished the job with a depilatory cream.

When they had finished the woman approached me holding an aerosol can. 

"You may find this a little cold. Please feel free to scream."

With that she proceeded to spray my genitals. It felt as if she was pouring boiling water over me and I jerked within my bindings and roared with fury. A white frost dressed my skin and my manhood shrank almost to non-existence. 

I could only look on in horror as one of the assistants took up something that looked like a gun. She stretched the loose skin of my sac and then a sharp snap preceded a sudden stinging pain. I had no time to recover from the shock before she repeated the process and I was pierced for a second time.

Her colleague dabbed the wounds with antiseptic and then carefully threaded two steel wires through the raw openings. When she was satisfied the woman came into view and revealed to me a metal ring perhaps two inches in diameter. 

She slid it over my shrunken manhood and carefully threaded the steel wires into it.

The final scene in this nightmare was played out when one of the assistants put on a heavy leather gauntlet.

She proceeded to shield my flesh as she used a second gun to seal the wires with an arcing heat before cooling the whole apparatus with a further shot from the freezing aerosol.

I still had tears in my eyes as they removed my gag and set down a tray of refreshments along with a small unidentified bottle whose purpose was then made evident to me.

"It's a balm. Use it frequently and twist the wires back and forth to keep the openings free."

With that she freed one of my wrists and I was locked in again.

Chapter Two

It took me a few moments to free myself altogether and I then spent futile minutes banging on the door and shouting.

Finally I gave up and, reluctant as I was, I reviewed the food that had been provided which turned out to be surprisingly good. There was a choice of cereals, fresh rolls and fruit as well as juice and a thermos of high quality coffee.

I ate, showered, and then turned my attention to what had been done to me. Even now I harboured the possibility that my friends would burst in and reveal it as an elaborate prank but the thing now attached to my manhood suggested something far more sinister.

The free ends of the wires were now formed into globes ensuring that they could not be slid out and where they met the ring they formed a solid join which no amount of tugging was going to shift. A pair of wire cutters would make short work of it as soon as I was able and the piercings would heal almost invisibly but that did nothing to alleviate my anger.

My phone had disappeared along with my clothes and so I had no idea of the time. I was growing increasingly bored but I reckoned that I was due a meal at the very least. It went against the grain to hurt a woman but I determined that when the door next opened I was going to bolt for it.

When I finally heard a key in the lock I stood a little way back from the door ready to use my weight and muscle to barge through. There was just one girl encumbered by a tray of food and I shouted fiercely as I charged shoulder first.

I had barely taken two paces before I fell and lay convulsed on the floor. It felt as if I had run into an invisible post and crushed my genitals. I was completely powerless as she casually removed my empty tray and left the new one.

It was some time before the pain abated and I could get to my feet. Fearfully I re-examined the seemingly innocuous ring and wondered how it was capable of delivering such devastating pain.

For a long time I had no appetite but, finally, boredom got the better of me and I started on the food which was better than many meals that I had been served in restaurants. 

Later that same afternoon the door opened again. As it did I felt a cramping sensation in my groin which was clearly intended as a warning. 

The same girl that had brought my meal came into the room carrying a bale of towels.

"Lie on the bed, face down."

I refused at first and fired questions at her but the pain in my groin became more intense. I was suspicious of her intentions but I did as she asked in the hope that she might prove more amenable. I laid down expecting her to secure me in some manner but, to my great surprise, she began a very professional massage.

She used an oil which did a lot to relieve my reddened skin and tortured muscles but she steadfastly refused to say a word. When she was finished I was left alone again my frustration overflowing.

Shortly afterwards another warning pain heralded a fresh visit. This time it was brief, just long enough to deliver a laptop. As soon as I was alone I fired it up only to find that it had been stripped to the bare bones. It offered no access to the outside world but, disturbingly, it had been loaded with my favourite combat game at exactly the spot I had last played it.

This confirmed that I was not just a random target but was it proof that my friends were involved after all? Perhaps they paid not knowing exactly what it entailed for me?

Bereft of anything else to keep me amused I began to play and, after two or three hours undivided attention, I completed the final level. I punched the air in quiet triumph having previously struggled for weeks to reach the end.

Later, boredom drove me to start the game again from the beginning and I was given plenty of time to work my way through it. Meals were delivered at regular intervals and I judged that I had been kept for at least seventy-two hours.

Twice more I attempted to force an exit but each time I was floored by the pain that surged through my groin. I grew hoarse with shouting threats and imprecations but my captors remained completely unfazed.

The problem was that, apart from my friends, I was unlikely to be missed. I worked freelance, had no immediate family and in terms of a relationship I had killed it stone dead.

I completed the game for a third time but I was tired of it and that was something I never thought I would hear myself say. I was about to turn away from the screen when the now familiar fanfare stopped abruptly. 

Turning back I saw that a video clip was running. It showed an older woman, mid-forties perhaps, reasonably attractive if that was your sort of thing. Her dark hair, expensively styled and not excessively tinted, framed a pretty face which made a virtue of the faint lines that nature had begun to etch. 

She wore light make-up with the exception of her lips which were heavily glossed and, for a fleeting second, I imagined what it would be like to kiss her. 

The camera lingered on her face and, whilst I could hear nothing, I guessed that she was listening to music as she looked totally transported. When, eventually, the camera slowly panned out I could see that she was wearing a simple white, open-necked, blouse which hinted at a very impressive pair of breasts.

I immediately felt myself becoming aroused but, as I already knew to my cost, the ring only allowed a partial erection. For someone as sexually charged as me this was the worst aspect of my confinement. 

What made things worse was that, much as I hated my captors, they were achingly attractive and, the more I was denied, the harder it became to hide my feelings whenever they walked into the room. 

For a moment or two I thought that the clip had stopped, as the woman was so perfectly still, but then she lifted her hand and slipped it within the confirms of her blouse. 

Almost without thought I took hold of myself but my burgeoning erection was uncomfortably held in check. 

On screen the woman suffered no such prohibition. Her fingers moved slowly and purposefully beneath the silky material of her blouse. For some minutes she was content with this gentle manipulation but then she needed more.

I watched as she unbuttoned her blouse and then let it slip from her shoulders. Her bra looked expensive but functional rather than evocative. She deftly released the front fastening and I could not restrain a gasp as her breasts were revealed.

I am not normally attracted to overly endowed women but it had to be said that her breasts were superb. They were heavy but still beautifully shaped and her nipples were something to behold. 

They were perfect circles of dusky pink from which the teats stood arrogantly erect as she leisurely rolled them between her thumbs and fingers. My tongue stirred and I could almost feel the firmness of them in my mouth.

The camera seemed guided by my thoughts as it zoomed in closer and I noticed how perfectly her nails were varnished as she began to apply a more insistent pressure. Older woman or not I wanted to feel those knowing fingers around my manhood.

The view changed again as the lens focussed on her face. Her eyes, now half closed, were almost green and her smile seemed sly almost as though she knew she was being observed.

I desperately wanted to take in the whole scene, conjecturing what she might be doing with her other hand, but the camera remained stubbornly fixed as, minute by minute, the colour in her cheeks heightened.

Finally, taking an age, the camera teasingly panned away. I could immediately see that she was carrying a little more weight than had been apparent but the greater shock was to come. 

She was seated in an armchair and, not only was she completely naked below the waist, she was reclining with her legs splayed open.

Kneeling before her was a man, naked, his wrists bound behind his back with a white silk scarf. He was slightly built and I might have taken him for a boy were it not for his close shaved hair which was shot through with gray.

Her hand was at the back of his head drawing him onto her and I could not help but note the contrast between his slender limbs and the seeming power of her shapely thighs. 

It was clear exactly what he was being made to do but there was a stillness about him as though he was pacing himself.

To be frank, it is not something I enjoy doing but ever the modern man I make the effort albeit I try to keep it brief. This train of thought was barely formed when an index suddenly appeared in the corner of the screen. 

It showed the date and time and a laboured mental count back suggested that I was watching a live feed. For a few moments I was perturbed by the amount of time that had actually passed in the outside world but then I became fascinated by the man's devotion.

I guessed that I had already been watching for at least half an hour and now another twenty minutes had gone by and he showed no signs of flagging. The woman, for her part, looked blissful. She seemed to be conveying her requirements by occasionally touching his head and the settling of her body intimated that he was performing to her satisfaction. 

My own technique was to get them as hot as possible as quickly as possible and then get on to the main event. The idea of making it some sort of act of worship would never cross my mind although, I would have to admit, with the boot on the other foot, I did enjoy it when a girl took her time when going down on me. 

As the hour mark was reached the woman raised her arms and stretched as her body softly shivered. A moment later her penitent disengaged but he did not move from between her legs.

Without paying him any heed she reached for a glass of red wine set on a side table and took a couple of sips. This was the cue for the camera to frame another close up. With voyeuristic intent the lens centred itself between her legs and her sex was brought sharply into focus.

A sodden arrowhead of dark hair drew my eyes down to her smoothly depilated mound and the wings of her labia. They were as dark as the wine she was drinking and swollen with arousal. Unhurriedly, she set her glass aside and drew a single finger through her cleft revealing a glistening interior and a plump protrusive clitoris.

In my wide experience I had never seen another like it. I was used to a concealed pearl in need of coaxing but there was an arrogance about the way she presented herself and, when I examined my feelings, I found myself slightly in awe of her. As if reflecting my own impressions her captive appeared intimidated as if he dare not look away. 

To my amazement she turned her hand and, using the same finger, she silently beckoned him forward. I had thought that she was satisfied and he was surely beyond any further effort.

I could only imagine the strain on his tongue and jaw not to mention the results of an hour spent on his knees bent to his task. I felt certain that I would witness some form of rebellion but, after an initial hesitation, he bowed once more and she settled back to accept his ministrations.

I could only sit and stare as the screen counted off another hour. She sipped her wine occasionally and, at one point, it looked as if she had melted into a second gentle climax but she gave him no respite this time. Some subtle signal compelled him to carry on.

Throughout, I veered from repulsion to frustrated arousal. I told myself that I was only attracted to her because of my enforced abstinence but I knew, deep down, that it was not the whole truth. 

I even considered that I might be the victim of a hoax, that I might be watching some looped footage, but I was watching so intently that I knew otherwise. I could see the subtle changes in her breathing, the rise and fall of her breasts, the varying tension of her thigh muscles and, most telling of all, the rapture in her eyes.

He was not inexhaustible. His body was sheened with sweat and the set of his shoulders suggested that he was in great discomfort. She was clearly aware of this but she was not going to be denied.

She slipped her legs over his shoulders and twined her ankles behind his head. For a second or two it looked as if he was being swallowed up as she crushed him closer to her but then her whole body tensed.

For perhaps half a minute she remained still, and I wondered how the hell he was breathing, but then she was rocked by a prolonged series of ever more powerful contractions. Her head went back and she squeezed at her breasts as she rode out one of the most powerful orgasms that I had ever beheld.

Even when it appeared to be over she seemed reluctant, or perhaps incapable, of letting him go. When, finally, she begrudgingly relented he collapsed altogether. For some seconds he was absolutely still but then his body jerked as he drew a laboured breath.

Chapter Three

The screen blanked but I spent some time still staring at it as I tried to make some sense of what had been shown to me. In some way it had affected me deeply but I was still convinced that it was my circumstances that determined my reaction. I am sure that, had I been shown it under normal circumstances, I would have laughed at the man's plight and given it a couple of minutes attention at most. 

Shortly afterwards they came for me again. The urge to resist was greater than ever but I hoped that the video was the prelude to some sort of explanation. I was led to the room where they had set about me on the first night and the sight of the trapeze bar stoked my anger. When I saw them lowering it I bunched my fists but was immediately disabled by a powerful shock to the groin.

They manhandled me across the floor and affixed my wrists before lifting me into the air until I was standing on tiptoes. I knew that protesting would avail me nothing but I still swore at them in the coarsest language that I could dream up.

They left me alone and within a very few minutes my muscles began to complain and I wondered what it must have been like in times past when people were mindlessly hung up for days at a time.

My thoughts of the medieval were disturbed by the all too modern. The 'woman' came into the room looking as if she had just finished jogging. She wore track pants and training shoes but what got my attention was her sleeveless white vest.

She was not wearing a bra and the outline of her nipples was arousingly obvious not least because her exertion had made her perspire.

I wanted to bombard her with questions but I held myself in check and tried an oblique approach.

"Do you have a name?"

The enquiry seemed to amuse her. 

"You may call me Celeste."

Her reply took me by surprise. I expected her to tell me that I should call her 'mistress' or some such. 

"Is that your real name?"

"Does it matter?"

I decided to press further.

"You know that people will be looking for me." 

"I suspect that you are right. I guess that your friends may have reported you missing by now...but what would the authorities have to go on? I own the taxi that you got into and I can assure you that there is not a single cctv camera along the route that brought you here."

She was not lying of that I was certain.

"What the hell is this place?"

For a second or two she seemed undecided but then she replied.

"There are places in the city that cater for...darker tastes...but there are some clients who want to take things a little further. I seek to accommodate their requirements. Most victims are voluntary, some less so, and kidnapping is a popular choice as a set up."

"Are you saying my friends paid you to do this?"

She sighed before speaking again.

"Do you not listen at all? Your friends lack that sort of imagination they're, no doubt, back in the U.K. convinced that you will turn up at some point."




Otherwise Engaged



"Then who the hell...!"

She put a finger to her lips and shushed me.

"Let's just say that you're a case of no expense spared..."

She walked behind me and I felt her fingers gently raking my back. 

"You heal well, and quickly, that's helpful."

Her hand moved lower, cupping my buttock, and then she was gone. The sound of the cupboard caught my attention and I twisted myself in that direction. 

When I saw what she had in her hand I exclaimed.

"You have to be fucking kidding me."

She stood unfurling a bullwhip which must have been at least three metres long and there was something about the way that she handled it that suggested a menacing proficiency.

If her intent was to frighten me then she had succeeded even though it was obviously an implement that would never be used on human flesh.

She ignored my expletive and flexed her wrist.

"The rings are usually enough to keep control but some men will try to overcome the pain and seek to inflict some damage. If that happens they are given a punishment that they will never forget.

In your case there has been no serious transgression but, nevertheless, I have been asked to illustrate the consequences of failing to comply."

A slight movement drew my eye up to the cameras and I shouted up at the baleful lens.

"Who the hell are you!"

The next seconds were indelibly branded into my memory. The sound was like the wind in a ships rigging until the final crack which arrived with a pain the like of which I had never felt before. I felt it as a, precise, agonizing line across the width of my back which was immediately diffused across my whole body. 

I know that I screamed but my ears tried to shut out the sound. It was a futile effort which could not suppress the evil howl of the whip as it fell across my back for a second time. I hurt myself in an effort to turn away and, as I caught sight of her, I could not believe that a woman could be capable of inflicting such pain.

I shouted "No!", rasping my throat, as I hazily registered the perfection of her movement. The whip fell again and I could feel that she was laying on each stroke lower than the last. 

I wanted to beg but my voice was lost. It took strength to wield the inhuman implement but she seemed to expend very little effort as, this time, she circled it above head height and slashed it down again. 

I understood, then, that it was much more than just the pain. She was putting on a performance for her unseen watcher and it was a stark and terrifying reminder that someone had paid her to do this to me. 

Putting thought into deed she crouched low and pulled the whip up from the floor to deliver a back handed stroke to overlay the lines of pain that she had already etched into my skin.

A sixth stroke fell but my body must have been overloaded. It seemed less devastating than those that had gone before but I knew that every single one would eventually take its toll.

I braced myself, hoping that my body would shut down altogether, but suddenly she was at my side with her face close to mine. 

I felt ashamed of the tears in my eyes as I whispered a single word.

"Why...?"

She stood a little away from me before she replied.

"I get very well paid for this, but the truth is..."

I saw then that her nipples were aggressively erect, as though they would tear the material of her vest, and she slipped her fingers just inside the waistband of her jogging pants. In those seconds I was torn between a vicious hatred and an unquenchable desire but the worst was knowing that I was totally transparent to her.

She came nearer and whispered in my ear.

"I'm almost there, and so are you, just six more..."

I swore, I pleaded, but there was no escape. She moved like a dancer but grunted with effort as she imprinted six more scorching lashes across my backside each of which felt like it had cut me open.

I tried not to scream, tried not to give her the satisfaction, but I was beaten from the start. She was the mistress of her art and I knew, somehow, that she had tempered her delivery to take me to the breaking point but not beyond.

I have no recollection of being released. I awoke in my cell and the pain had dulled to the extent that I was convinced that I had been administered an analgesic.

For the next three days my routine was restored. Meals arrived and I received regular oiled massages to relieve my discomfort. Almost every waking moment was taken up thinking about how to escape. The problem was the damn ring. I could not figure out how it worked, how it was triggered or by whom.

It seemed certain that I was being watched the whole time that I spent in the cell and I suspected that the illuminated panel probably concealed a camera or, more sinister still, afforded them the facility to sit and watch me as they wished. I conjured up an image of a two way mirror as seen during interview scenes in TV police dramas.

They left the laptop with me and I started the game again. It was now repetitive and offered no challenge but the truth was that I wanted to get to the finish to see if the video clip would be replayed. I completed it but there was no bonus.

On the morning of the fourth day after my whipping I had a new visitor. I had grown so used to my blonde tormentors that I had christened them Thelma and Louise but the new arrival was cut from a more exotic cloth.

With her honeyed skin and immaculate make-up she looked like a Bollywood film star. She was average height and wore a white linen dress putting in mind of the girls who worked on the concessions in department store beauty departments.

She smiled at me as if it were the most natural thing in the world to find a naked man held captive in the basement.

"Good morning. I'm here for your assessment."

She spoke perfect English albeit with a Dutch accent and I just stared at her in disbelief.

"Are you for real? You do know that I'm here against my will?"

She simply ignored me, took a computer tablet from her bag and switched it on.

"Unusually you are only being tested for aptitude in one particular area..." 

She looked up and beamed her smile at me

"...I guess that's why they asked me to conduct the evaluation."

Still bemused by her cheery sangfroid I half turned towards her revealing the healing welts on my back.

"Do you know what's been done to me? Can't you see!"

She walked past me as if I had not spoken and, to my amazement, she began to unfasten the buttons on the skirt of her dress. Still smiling she continued as if she had just dropped by for coffee.

"I work here in Amsterdam and I enjoy my work enormously. My clients, women mainly, but some men, pay a small fortune to spend a little time on their knees trying desperately hard to bring me pleasure. The beauty of it is I offer nothing in return nor do they expect it. It does, however, make me an expert judge of technique. Now, why don't you kneel just here..."

I was simply lost for words as she parted her dress and sat down on the bed. Her long legs had a beautiful sheen, as if they had been lightly oiled, but my eyes were drawn to her expensive looking panties. 

I experienced a natural, autonomic, response only to feel my fledgling erection painfully bitten back. I had never bedded an Indian girl but I would have walked over hot coals to have this one. 

I had to literally shake my head in order to make myself think straight. She was a part of my nightmare and what she was suggesting was ludicrous.

"Just get yourself dressed. Get out of here and leave me alone." 

Again that damned smile.

"I could make you do it....or..."

As she made her threat I felt the initial crushing numbness that was the familiar prelude to a fully-fledged jolt to my groin but then something strange happened. The discomfort moderated until I was left with a tingling sensation that made me catch my breath.

My erection reasserted itself and, whilst it was not a total engorgement, I nevertheless had the feeling that I could reach a climax. It was frustrating as hell and, unthinkingly, I tried to take myself in hand. 

Immediately I did so the sensation stopped to be replaced by the threatening numbness. I looked at her imploringly and she opened her legs a little wider.

"...no hands."

I was torn by conflicting emotions. She was so self-assured, confident that I would do what she wanted of me, and her conceit was enraging. This was balanced by that teasing taste of what could be, after days of denial, and the scale was slowing tipping.

I knelt in front of her and the threat receded to be replaced by the soothing, sympathetic, vibration that seemed to promise so much.

Loathe as I was, the sight of her taut thighs and barely concealed sex acted as a further stimulus. I waited for her to remove her panties, or to ask me to do it, but she said nothing. After a few seconds I knew why.

For all her cool demeanour my predicament obviously served to arouse her. As I stared a damp spot developed in the centre of her panties and slowly expanded firstly to the size of a penny but then beyond.

I looked up at her, waiting for a lead, and I saw the glint in the deep brown of her eyes.

"Now lick me.."

I began to understand why her clients would pay for the privilege. There was something about her tone and bearing...

Still fired by the shallow ripples of arousal suffusing my manhood I bowed my head and brought my mouth to the lacy barrier that lay between us. The perfume that she wore was heady and mysterious and she had applied some to her inner thighs. Mixed with the natural scent of her arousal it had a compelling potency.

Contrary to my natural inclination I was breathing deeply through my nose infusing myself with the essence of her and I wondered, for a brief moment, if it contained an opiate as I felt almost light-headed. 

I tentatively put out my tongue and touched it to her panties where the heat of her took me by surprise; it was a second or two before I registered her taste which had an unaccustomed sweetness.

I had never licked a woman through her underwear but I could now see the attraction. The silk was smooth beneath my tongue hinting at her hidden contours. I continued for some moments, almost appreciating the novelty, and thinking that I was giving a good account of myself. I was to be quickly disabused.

"Wait."

I looked up to see her rooting in her bag from where she produced a pair of reading glasses.

"I forgot to take out my lens last night and my eyes are still a little sore."

She put them on and tapped out something on the tablet leaving me at a loss. I thought that she was engaged as I was but I was seriously wrong. Leaving her glasses on she put the tablet to one side and then shimmied out of her panties.

She sat back down again with me still trapped between her legs.

"Now let's see what you can really do..."

Her sex, like her legs, had an alluring lustre suggestive of many hours of lavish attention.

It was a tight clamshell almost perfect in its symmetry and, probably for the first time in my life, I felt a genuine desire to use my mouth.

I did not want her to think me crass and so I started by licking around the mound itself and noted, not without irritation, that she had reached to record something on her tablet. Not at all sure what I hoped to achieve I tried to put it from my mind and continued with a pressure that was neither too timid nor too firm.

I could taste her arousal on her skin along with the faintest hint of salt as I licked at the creases at the top of her thighs. I thought that I was doing a good job as I put aside my usual impatience and kept this up for some minutes but she gave no sign of approval or otherwise. 

I was irked by her detachment and determined to disturb her equilibrium. I purposefully licked along the clearly defined divide of her sex and the taste, immediately stronger, began to fill my mouth.

I wanted to use my fingers to pry her apart so that I could delve more deeply but I was mindful of her admonition. Instead, over the next few minutes, I alternated the flat of my tongue with the very tip and tried to enter the breach.

I knew that I was getting to her, as her scent enriched the air around me, but her toned muscles continued to hold me at bay. 

All the while I was still being stimulated and I felt certain that if I could only make an impression on her I would be granted the relief I now so badly needed.

My hopes grew when I felt her relax and I was able to gain an initial lodgement. The dam was broken and she leaked her heated nectar. Overcoming my usual reticence I caught up the flow with long sweeps of her tongue which only prompted a further seepage and I was having to swallow hard to keep up with her.

Her sex now lay open to me, her slickened labia were a burnished bronze contrasting with the excited redness at the heart and there, at the apex, the engorged nub of her clitoris.

I was overcome by an uncharacteristic fervour as I fell upon her. I closed my lips at the roof of her sex and ran my tongue over the surprising firmness of the revealed hemisphere. 

If I expected an immediate reaction I was to be disappointed. She was coolness personified as she adjusted her glasses and registered yet another note on the tablet. Fired with a mixture of growing resentment and a despairing need to reach a climax of my own I redoubled my efforts.

I could feel sweat beading at my brow as I slaved and, all the time, I felt ever closer to some form of release. When, at last, she gave an extended sigh, I felt an inner sense of triumph but I was left poised at the precipice with no way of tipping myself over the edge.

I looked up at her expecting some acknowledgement of my accomplishment but she simply took off her glasses and gave the tablet a final tap.

I knelt upright ready to vent my anger but before I could even begin to reason with her Thelma and Louise came back in the room as if summoned by an unheard signal. My Indian assessor offered up her laptop and Thelma took a cursory glance before barking at me.

"Lie down, now"

My hackles were immediately raised not least because I felt somehow cheated but I could do nothing about it before pain girdled my groin. As the woman casually rose from the bed and began adjusting her clothing I fell on to it clutching at the source of my anguish.

The pain eased momentarily but I was allowed no time to recover before my wrists were secured to the head of the bed. Taking her cue Celeste walked into the room looking as if she had just left a business meeting.

She wore a dark suit over a simple blue top which matched her shoes and stockings and once again I had to supress my instinctive attraction to her and summon up hatred.

She too glanced at the tablet before she spoke.

"So how did he perform?"

The woman looked down at me as she delivered her verdict.

"He shows some naive enthusiasm but in terms of breathing, endurance, and pure technique he leaves a lot to be desired."

I could not believe my ears. As far as I was concerned I had put it the performance of a lifetime and she was dismissing me as if I was a teenage ingénue. I struggled to contain an expletive and Celeste glared at me before nodding to Thelma and Louise. 

They took hold of my ankles and I instinctively began to struggle but the inevitable pain immediately took its toll. As far as I could see no one in the room had done anything obvious to trigger it and so I guessed there was a least one other person, and maybe more, that I had not met yet.

I was stretched as they pulled my feet over the top of the bed's footboard and secured them there. The metal frame began to dig into my Achilles tendons and I wondered if this was my punishment for resisting but, once I was secured, Thelma left the room.

She returned a moment later carrying something that looked like an oversized conductor's baton. It was a long thin cane with a cork handle which she presented to Celeste.

"Your training works on a system of demerits and your failure today warrants another lesson."

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

"Can you hear yourself? This is not the bloody eighteenth century! I am well and truly fed up with your fucking game. When I get out of here I am going to sue you for every Euro you have and you are going to spend the rest of your life looking nervously over your shoulder!"

She smiled as if indulging a child.

"You are absolutely correct. It's not a game. It's a business, but one from which I draw an infinite amount of pleasure." 

There was something about her dismissal that chilled me. She positioned herself at the end of the bed and I barely perceived the movement. Her arm remained still as she flicked her wrist and the cane cut through the air and slashed against the sole of my foot.

My whole body jerked at the sudden biting pain. I would have imagined my feet to be hardened by hours of exercise but she was about to prove just how tender they really were.

"Your back is still healing and so, for now, we have to satisfy ourselves with an alternative canvas."

The first strike proved to be a mere introduction. I was screaming by the time she delivered six more with deadly painful precision. It felt as if my feet were set in a tray of scalding water and I could not take them out.

Through it all I noticed that the Indian woman had winced at the severity of the punishment and I wondered if, even now, she might be appealed to. She was, after all, the cause.

Celeste paused to admire her handiwork and the Indian woman moved a little closer.

"That looks particularly vicious..."

Celeste laughed softly.

"We're just breaking him in gently for now. Would you like to give it a try?"

Her transformation from possible saviour to she-devil took place in the space of a single breath. She took the cane and slashed it experimentally through the air. I could see from the excitement in her eyes that there was to be no compassion.

She lacked Celeste's technique but made up for it with raw enthusiasm. Each slicing strike, falling on top of already tortured skin, racked up the pain to an ever higher level. When she finally stopped, her hair slightly dishevelled, she looked a little guilty, as if she had lost control of herself, but she smiled as Celeste took the cane and congratulated her.

Afterwards, I was left to my own misery for what felt like hours until, following the pattern of perversity, Louise returned and began to tend to my lacerated feet.

Chapter Four

More days passed during which, from time to time, I loudly bellowed my rage. I knew that I must not allow myself to become institutionalized; my moment would come and I would have to be ready for it.

The food continued to be of a very high standard and some exercise equipment was moved into my cell. I had come to hate the game but I could not help but return to it in the hope that there might be some more video footage which would offer some clue. I was to be continually disappointed.

I saw no more of Celeste and Thelma and Louise steadfastly refused to engage in conversation. Celeste's absence was particularly disquieting as she was clearly responsible for my fate but I was left with the distinct impression that I was not her only project.

The monotony was finally broken when Thelma and Louise arrived in company with a stranger. At first glance I thought that the newcomer was an opera singer. The woman was in her thirties with bottle blonde hair and almost theatrical makeup. I stand six feet one in my bare feet and she was only two or three inches shorter but it was the manner in which she was dressed that really got my attention. 

She was wearing an emerald green velour dress that was expensively styled to disguise and firm up the extra weight that she was carrying. In the right light she would pass as very attractive but in the harsh glare of the cell I could see the signs of ageing that her makeup was intended to camouflage. 




Otherwise Engaged



She did not take in her surroundings, nor did she show any surprise at my nakedness, and so I guessed that she was aware of what was going on. I tried to remain calm and waited for her to speak.

"Good evening, I am to be your breathing coach."

I looked at her incredulously and almost succumbed to laughter. It seemed that my guess was closer to the mark than I thought but if they thought that I was going to take part in singing lessons they had another think coming.

I turned away from them as I tried to hide my reaction and I missed the import of her next words.

"Get him ready..."

Thelma and Louise were on me almost before I realized it. They pushed me onto the bed and, a moment later, they had my four limbs secured to the corners of the bedframe. It was only as I reflexively tested the bindings that I comprehended that there had been no preceding jolt of pain.

This troubled me a great deal. There was no way that I was going to become conditioned but how could I have missed this development?

I was so distracted that I failed to notice that the woman had started to undress. She sloughed her dress like a second skin and handed it to Thelma who had produced a coat hanger.

She showed no hint of modesty as she proceeded to remove her underwear so that she was left standing in a pair of flesh coloured stay up stockings. It was obvious that she was comfortable with her naked body and, whilst Thelma and Louise just looked bored by the proceedings, I could only stare.

She was pale skinned, which further emphasised her general corpulence, but there was something about her that made me think that she tried to keep herself in trim. She had broad hips and thick thighs but it was her breasts which caught my eye. 

In her day they would have been magnificent but now they had begun to give up the fight. Unsupported, they lay heavy on her chest and even her nipples appeared distended. They still faced proudly forward but their oblate shape gave the impression that they were submitting to gravity.

Thelma took charge of the remainder of her clothing and, in return, handed the woman a small box. She opened it as she loomed over me. 

"Over the next couple of hours two things are going to happen. Firstly, you are going to sweat...profusely. Secondly, you are going to panic. Now, in order to prevent any unfortunate accidents we will be using this."

She took from the box, and held between her thumb and finger, a pink rubber ring.

"This is used for oral surgery. It's to stop the patient closing their mouth and biting."

I looked at the thing and automatically clamped my mouth closed which brought a smile to her face. 

"I could just jolt you...but I prefer the old fashioned way."

Without taking her eyes from mine she reached down between my legs and squeezed. I gritted my teeth for a second or two but then opened my mouth and yelled as she applied an unremitting pressure. 

With a deftness that her size belied she slipped the dam between my teeth. I immediately tried to clamp down on it but it was impossible to close it altogether and any attempt to push it out with my tongue proved futile. My teeth were lodged in a rim around the circumference and it was not going to be removed without assistance.

She watched with amusement as I struggled and then she slipped a single finger into the opening. I bit hard but did not have enough strength in my jaw to cause any harm.

"The beauty of it is that I don't have to listen to you pleading, as you undoubtedly will, and, with a little effort, you can still use your tongue which is just as well as that is the only way that you are going to get me to relent."

Without another word she mounted me. I felt the bed yielding under her added weight and then she slipped her knees over my shoulders. 

Her thighs cast me into shadow and I was presented with the spectacle of her intimidating sex. A close cut growth of dark hair dressed her large mound and defined the line of her long cleft.

"Take a breath..."

My howl of protest was cut dead as she eased forward and settled herself on my face. My mouth was blocked but she left me just enough space to breathe through my nose. 

I stared up wide eyed at the swell of her belly and the overarching immensity of her breasts fearing the imminent threat of total enclosure but she held her place. Almost casually she began to stroke her sex and, over the next few moments, I watched it slowly distend.

Eventually, she began to press a little more firmly until the tips of her fingers were sliding wetly along the whole length of her labia and the raw, primal, scent of her filled every breath that I took. 

Notwithstanding my plight I felt the onset of an erection, which only added to my general discomfort, and I cursed my body for this betrayal. 

For some minutes I tried to free my mind and calm myself down but the quiet squelching of her fingers only reinforced the idea that the very air I was breathing was laden with moisture. 

My natural reaction was to breathe more quickly but my problems were only just beginning.

She gave a quiet sigh and a viscous offering began to well from her sex. At first it was just a single drop but then the wet warmth began to spread across my face. A sudden, irrational, fear of drowning increased my anxiety and raised my heart rate. 

I looked up at her only to find her staring down at me as though she had anticipated this exact moment.

"Say goodbye..."

In a single movement she slid the few inches needed to cover me entirely. Her wetness perfected the seal and I was trapped in suffocating darkness. I told myself that she was not out to kill me but with her weight bearing down it was hard to remain rational. 

Fulfilling her prophecy I broke out in a hot sweat and I felt the sting of salt even with my eyes closed. I tried to remain still, to conserve the oxygen left to me, but she too was unmoving and my body began to rebel.

I began to struggle against her and my restraints but she seemed only to settle more heavily. I saw sparks against my eyelids and my lungs were burning. I did not want to surrender but there was only one way left to appeal to her.

I pushed my tongue through the ring's opening and felt the excited heat of her. It was an effort simply to hold my tongue in place, let alone attempt to lick her, but it was enough to persuade her to yield for the moment.

She lifted herself enough to let me draw a couple of gasping breaths but then settled again leaving me fighting to inhale sufficient oxygen through my nose. 

The process was repeated over and over again. Time ceased to have any meaning as my whole concentration was focussed on the air that she allowed me. I was sweating from every pore and with each cycle she demanded more effort from my tongue before release.

The problem was that my tongue was tiring and this in addition to the strain that her weight was putting on my face and neck. 

Again, she seemed perfectly attuned to my limits. When she next shut me in she leaned forward just a little and this time, when I presented my tongue, I could discern the prominence of her clitoris.

Hoping that this signalled the end of my ordeal I drew on my final reserves and licked as frantically as I could. For a despairing moment or two it seemed that I was labouring in vain but then her thighs closed tight, stilling my head, and her body started to quake.

I almost choked as droplets began to fall into my open mouth but this was just the precursor of an outpouring as her climax took hold. The ring made controlled swallowing almost impossible and I started to panic but my distress only seemed to increase her gratification.

When she was sated she took an age to compose herself but, finally, she got up from me altogether. My breathing sounded comical as I panted through my opened mouth but she ignored me completely.

She helped herself to a glass of water and then used a towel to dab her breasts before wiping between her thighs. I looked towards the door hoping that Thelma would return with her clothes but it was a forlorn hope.

As if to mock me she took a deep breath and then pinched my cheek.

"Rested? Ready for the second round?"

She had to be insane; there was no way that I could take any more. I thrashed my body but I was totally defenceless as she retook her position. Having pinned my shoulders she looked down at me as if deep in thought. She then reached for a pillow, doubled it over, and squeezed it beneath my head.

"I think you're ready for the advanced class..."

She started to adjust her position and it took a second or two before the horrifying realization dawned. She half turned and shuffled backwards and my world was suddenly bounded by the presence of her rounded cheeks. 

Faint stretch marks hinted at a once shapely seat but there was now just a heavy, foreboding, softness. 

I shook my head in denial but it was easy for her to hold me still using her feet. She then wriggled playfully before commencing a unhurried, petrifying, descent.

My face was slowly engulfed and then her whole mass crushed me into the pillow. In the darkness there was silence broken only by the muffled strain of the bedsprings as she came to rest. 

I could breathe, just, but my air was tainted by a mixture of her scent and my own sweat. At first, she seemed content to rest as she was and whilst her weight was a burden it was one that I could bear. 

Hubris will always find you out and, after some minutes, my mistake was made evident. A slight shift of her knees allowed her to relax making clear that I had not been fully taxed after all. 

Her cheeks spread over my face pinching my nose closed and restricting my mouth altogether. I did not even have time to take a deep breath and within seconds I was in severe distress. 

This time I think I actually blacked out before she deigned to ease the pressure but, wilfully or otherwise, she was heedless of my suffering as a new cycle began. 

Sometimes she would seal me in for just a few seconds but more often it would be for a minute or more. I had no way of knowing and no way to prepare. It meant that my breathing was both strained and erratic and I feared that I was losing my grasp on reality.

I was also becoming dehydrated. In the stifling gloom I continued to sweat and she too was perspiring. To add to my misery she began to rock gently backwards and forwards riding easily on my glistening face.

She had spoken of a "couple of hours" but that must have long since slipped away. Amongst my confused thoughts was the notion that my skin was being impregnated with her scent and I would never be able to wash it out.

Above me she changed her position once more and I sensed the imminence of a prolonged enclosure. I inhaled sharply and started counting slowly in my head. The longest so far had taken me to fifty but we were now well into the sixties.

I was at the same lung bursting point that I had reached when she sat the other way about but this time I did not have the option of using my tongue...only I did.

This was what it had all been leading to and I had not seen it coming. The truth was that I found the prospect abhorrent. It was something I had only done once in my adult life and only then after more alcohol than was good for me. 

I reached seventy and my body was shaking with stress as survival instincts overwhelmed any cogent thought. I stretched my tongue blindly probing between her parted cheeks.

This despairing gesture of capitulation bought me a momentary remission but I was abruptly enclosed. That single touch of my tongue conveyed a moist, earthy, taste underlain by a hint of her arousal but she wanted even more.

After another suffocating sitting the mere touch of my tongue was not enough. I made the gesture but she remained motionless. Fighting my revulsion, and not without a hint of pain, I thrust my tongue as far as I could. 

I was shocked to feel it drawn in and held in a powerful embrace before her body relaxed and then shuddered in the throes of a second climax. 

When she arose I could see the wetness on her fingers and I knew then that my misery had fuelled her excitement. It had only taken that final acknowledgement of my subservience to lift her to the pinnacle. 

She turned to me and smiled before ruffling my hair.

"Until the next time..."

Chapter Five

After she left, without a backward glance, I waited a long time to be released. Once I was free I took a long shower and was grateful that they did not ration the water supply.

I was tempted to pound the treadmill but in the end I simply sat on the bed and wondered, not for the first time, how long this could go on for and what was the ultimate goal as surely there had to be one.

Eventually I fell into a fitful sleep only to be roused by a long, plaintive, moan. It took a few seconds to remember where I was and a moment longer to pinpoint the source of the sound. 

The screen on the laptop was illuminated and I got up to check on it. 

It showed an expensively furnished living room and, whilst I had not paid much attention first time around, I was sure that it was the same room in which I had seen the woman and man.

The camera was slowly panning and I looked for clues. The best lead was the religious themed triptych on the wall in front of which stood a silver samovar. 

Oddly the camera then tilted towards the plush carpet and tracked a few feet. It came to rest on a stout wooden pedestal about six inches high and then moved upwards. It revealed a gilded cage, with close set bars, about four feet square. Crouched inside it was the same man I had watched in the previous clip.

He was naked but what caught my attention was the ring encircling his penis which was the mirror image of the one that held me trapped. As I watched he tried to stretch his cramped limbs and groaned with frustration.

I continued to play the voyeur for half an hour, according to the on-screen clock, but nothing happened except that he rested his head on his knees and tried to sleep. 

Giving up, I went back to bed but, throughout the night, I was disturbed by anguished whimpers as he tried to find some ease. Once or twice I was tempted to mute the sound but I wanted to be aware if there were any developments.

At some point I must have fallen into a deeper sleep as I was awoken by Thelma delivering breakfast. Ignoring the tray I went straight back to the screen. 

The man was still there for what must have been seven hours at the very least. He appeared to be almost on the verge of tears but then he looked up alert. There was the sound of a door closing and the woman walked into view.

She was simply dressed in a plain jumper and skirt and, whilst more attractive than average, she could have been anyone from the street. As she approached the cage she reached for her necklace from which hung a key.

She unlocked the cage and opened the door.

"Out."

The man looked at her a little puzzled and then I witnessed his agony as he pathetically tried to unfold his tortured limbs. He fell to the carpet in a heap and only slowly was he able to get to his feet. 

Having managed a painful crouch he reached forward across the cage to hold on to the far edge.

The woman slowly raised her jumper and I felt a stir of excitement as I thought that she was going to undress but I was to be disillusioned. Instead she unfastened her belt and slid it out from the loops of her skirt.

It looked to be made of leather and about an inch wide. She took hold of the buckle in the palm of her hand and wound the belt once around her fingers to leave the greater part hanging free. The man obviously knew what was to come as he started to cower but he managed to hold his position. 

For the first time I took notice of the fading scars of previous abuses on his back and buttocks and wondered if, perhaps, I was being shown a room in the house above me.

The woman ran the belt through her fingers and then balanced it before she whipped it through the air. She used it with minimal effort and practised ease but the sharp crack as it broke across his back made me wince.

He took the blow wordlessly but an angry red welt spoke to its effect. She looked insouciant as she began to deliver a series of equally devastating strokes working methodically from his shoulder blades down to the back of his thighs.

When the entire area was ablaze she started over again and this time he began to scream but never daring to release his grip on the cage. It had reached the point where I could no longer watch when she suddenly came to a stop.

He stood, shoulders heaving, and I could imagine the tears in his eyes. After a short pause he finally let go and, to my astonishment, he contorted himself back into the cage.

The woman locked him in and then carefully rethreaded her belt before adjusting her jumper.

"Next time you lick until I tell you to stop.." and, with that, she left the room.

I could not watch as her victim squirmed in torment and I turned away and reflected on what I had seen. She had spoken in English with a marked East European accent. It seemed to me that the man did not recognize the language but nevertheless understood the import. The sinister connotation was that her words were intended for me...

More days passed in mind numbing boredom. The meal routine remained the same and the laptop offered up no further revelations. I repeatedly asked Thelma and Louise about the mystery woman, and what her part in all this was, but they remained stoically silent.

On two occasions, when anger and frustration got the better of me, I tried to overpower my captors but each time the ring defeated me. I figured that I might be able to build up a tolerance to the pain but when I tried again for a third time I received a jolt that almost knocked me cold. I was dragged from the cell, suspended, and they set about me with the same whips that were used on the first night.

The arrival of breakfast heralded the start of another day but, this time, there was a difference. Set beside the food on the tray was a black sleeping mask. No explanation was forthcoming but after my meal, and against my better judgement, I put on the mask.

A minute or two later Thelma and Louise arrived. I was so familiar with them that, even unsighted, I could tell them apart by the way that they walked. In another departure they had me hold my hands together whilst they secured my wrists with a plastic zipcuff. 

They led me out of the cell and off to the right! When the door opened in front of me I felt the cool breeze of fresh air for the first time since I was taken. I was ushered outside and was immediately given a warning jolt proving that the device worked beyond the confines of the building. 

I was helped into the back of the van and I dared to hope that, at long last, my ordeal was coming to an end. The journey took half an hour, as best I could judge, and then I was escorted indoors.

The cold parquet of a hallway gave on to a warm carpet and then I sensed Thelma and Louise leaving me alone. I cocked my head and listened but the only discernible sound was the loud ticking of a clock.

The room smelt of rich wax polish but then I caught a waft of a musky perfume before a voice spoke in cut glass English.

"You may remove it..."

I took off the mask and blinked in the brightness of a sunlit library. Three walls comprised floor to ceiling shelves stacked with expensive looking volumes counter posed by a set of French windows which revealed an immaculately tended rose garden.

She was behind me and, when I saw her, I had to do a double take. I recognized her immediately but then who would not. She had enjoyed a stellar film career and was often included in lists of the world's most beautiful women.




Otherwise Engaged



She would have been at least forty but could have passed for twenty-five and I trawled my memory for what I knew of her. There had been much speculation when she retired at the peak of her stardom and married some anonymous magnate. 

Along with most red blooded males I had had something of a crush on her even though she was of the generation before mine. Now, seeing her in the flesh, I could really appreciate her almost ethereal beauty. 

Her ice blue eyes beneath sculpted eyebrows still had a piecing intensity but this was balanced by her high cheekbones and full mouth which enabled her to switch, in an instant, from her trademark aloofness to a ravishing smile. 

"It's nice to know I'm appreciated..."

For a second or two I had forgotten I was naked, so used had I become to it, but I could not ignore the pinch of a thwarted erection and I wondered if she was trying to mock me.

"Oh, and just in case you were wondering..."

The ring tingled menacingly putting paid to any last signs of arousal and any lingering hopes that I might have harboured about a return to a land of reason.

"The first rule, I don't want to hear you speak; I only have one use for your tongue."

She walked up beside me and rubbed the back of her finger over my chin.

"Not bad, but whilst you are here you will shave twice a day."

This disclosure, that I was to undergo an extended stay, left me with mixed feelings but my overriding hope was that the new surroundings would afford me an opportunity to regain my freedom.

She was wearing a scooped necked summer dress which set off her even tan to great effect and my eyes fell to the swell of her breasts.

"You've probably seen them before...most men have."

There was a world of difference between the celluloid version and the actuality of standing within touching distance. There was a presence about her that was hard to define.

"Kneel down...it's time for you to make a start."

Her blatancy put me off balance to the extent that I had done as she asked before I even had a chance to consider my actions. 

She slowly raised her dress as if unveiling a precious secret and my heart began to beat faster. As her long bare legs were revealed I could see that they had lost none of their allure but it was her sex itself that held me captivated.

She was physical perfection personified and I suppose I expected the demureness of a Roman statue. The reality was a pink exposure of twin folds bulging at the apex as if struggling to contain the jewel within.

All this I took in at a glance but then I noted the glint of moisture; her sex was weeping and a single droplet was trailing down her inner thigh. Thus triggered my senses were assailed by the fresh fullness of her scent.

The imminence of my arrival had been enough to arouse her and now she intended to assuage her need. She took a step forward, threw the skirt of her dress over my head and pulled me on to her.

Refinement was not called for nor did I offer it. Afterwards, I wondered if, after all, some change had been worked on me but, for now, I licked her with the ferocity of a starving man.

I could hear her laughing as I lost myself in her copious wetness, the essence of her threatening to overwhelm my nose and mouth. 

After the frantic beginning she held my head tighter and began to guide me. She tipped my head backwards and rode up on my face ensuring that, as she continued to leak, nothing was missed.

I licked and swallowed as best I could until she tugged me on to her clitoris and then it was only a moment before she juddered to a climax.

We were both breathing hard but she continued to hold me trapped beneath her dress until she had calmed down. 

By the time she finally released me I was beginning to doubt my own sanity. She brushed down her dress, straightened her hair, and pressed a button set into the wall. Seconds later a Filipino maid appeared.

"Show him his room"

Almost as an afterthought, for my benefit, she added.

"Take another shave..."

The girl led through the house me without a word. I counted at least eight rooms on the ground floor but I was taken through to a connected annex. The bedroom was simple and functional, not unlike that which had become my prison of late, but it had the benefit of a large window. Beyond it was a small courtyard flanked by another wall of the house.

As soon as the girl left I began looking for a camera but found nothing. I even moved the bed so that I could check the light fittings but they were just standard low energy bulbs.

Incredible as it sounds it took me a while before I even tried the window. I was astonished when I found that I could open it almost fully. I was still naked but I did not care so much about that, if the police found and arrested me so much the better, my problem was a lack of footwear. I was not going to get anywhere fast if I had to cross broken ground.

I thought about binding towels around my feet but I needed to take this opportunity quickly whilst it presented itself. I raised myself onto the window sill and had both hands on the window frame when I felt as if I had been knocked backwards by a punch to the groin. 

I lay sprawled on the floor below the window wondering what I had missed. Was there a camera trained on the window from outside?

It took a long while to recover but I determined to make a second attempt. In the meanwhile I did as she asked and had a shave in the hope that their vigilance would be relaxed. 

I had barely finished when the girl came for me again. She was very slight and it would have been easy to get the better of her but I erred on the side of caution. 

I was taken to some sort of drawing room. Like the library there was a lot of heavy wood panelling but the general décor was essentially feminine. This room, too, had large windows giving another aspect of the rose garden. I looked at them wondering if I could force an exit.

"You may make an attempt if you wish but then I'm guessing that you've already tried the window."

She had entered the room behind me looking totally refreshed. She had changed into a grey skirt and jumper combination but what would have looked plain on another woman only went to emphasis her natural beauty. 

There was a small table in the centre of the room with four chairs set about and she pulled one out and made herself comfortable. 

"I see that you shaved. Come here and let me feel."

The seductive tone that was so much a part of her screen persona was evident in her natural voice and, for a fleeting second, I almost forgot my circumstances. I stepped closer to her and presented my face but she did not raise her hand.

She looked at me as if I were simple.

"Kneel down. I want to do the test with my thighs..."

She was already raising her skirt under which she wore a full set of stockings and suspenders but no panties. I could not believe that she was contemplating a second orgasm so soon after the last and so I assumed it was some form of personal perverted ritual.

I went to my knees and bowed my head catching the floral undertone of an expensive shower gel.

"Lower..."

I did as she asked bringing myself closer to her sex and she gently enclosed me with the thighs.

"You'll need to shave more closely. Take your time and remember what you are preparing yourself for."

I bit back a scathing reply and prepared to get up.

"Stay there. You can warm me up before my guests arrive."

She must have sensed my disinclination.

"I could always use the ring but I am hoping that it will not be necessary. Please know that the manner and skill of your performance whilst you are here will go a long way towards securing your freedom."

It was the first time that the word had been mentioned and I felt my heart lift. Anger still blazed inside me but once I was free I would find them again, one way or another, and I would exact my revenge by fair means or foul.

Bouyed up by this I bent to the task and I began to lick her but she reached down and lifted my chin.

"Slowly this time...start on my legs."

Restraining myself I moved closer to the floor and licked my way slowly up each of her legs in turn. Above her stockings they were so perfectly smooth and unblemished that it seemed almost unnatural.

It was a long time before she redirected my attention to her sex but I was pleased to note that she was already becoming excited. I had been engaged for only a moment or two when I heard the door open and I wondered if the maid was inured to her employers proclivities. It came as a shock when I heard a male voice.

"Is he any good?"

"He will get better with practise."

I risked a glance towards the door. The man standing there wore an expensive suit with a pale blue shirt and scarlet tie. He was around fifty with film star looks but was most definitely a businessman.

"I didn't tell you to stop..."

His condescending smile remained with me as I began again hearing the door closed behind me. As I ministered to her she seemed minded to talk.

"My husband and I have an understanding. He has certain tastes and I have my own. There have been moments of intimacy, we have a daughter, she goes up to university this year, but we each follow our own path. 

When I moved to Amsterdam I was introduced to the woman you know as Celeste. She has been able to accommodate my needs in many different ways. You are not the first and you most certainly won't be the last.

I love her little devices and I have gone to great expense to have every door and window wired...but then you already know the consequences of trying to slip away."

As I reapplied myself, dividing my attention between each of her labia in turn, I wondered if it was the whiff of scandal that had driven her into early retirement; perhaps her husband was similarly compromised and the marriage suited both their purposes.

She was getting ever warmer but she made clear that she was in no hurry to bring things to a climax. I could tell, somehow, that it was not just my tongue that was having an effect on her.

In the distance a doorbell rang and she made me stop whilst she got up and adjusted her clothing.

"Don't let me down. We have an expats card club each week and it's my turn to host."

As she finished speaking the door opened and the maid escorted three women into the room. They were all well dressed and exuded an air of natural authority. The youngest of them was possibly in her twenties and an archetypal Nordic blonde. She kissed her hostess expansively on both cheeks and then stood aside for the second woman.

Before she even opened her mouth I guessed that she was an American. She was a least twice the age of the blonde and very solidly built but she had obviously invested a lot of money in trying to stave off the ravages of age. 

The third of the trio looked vaguely familiar and when she was asked how things were at the embassy something clicked. The Kenyan embassy in the Hague had recently been the target of a car bomb attempt. The bomb failed to detonate but the car ploughed into a line of people queuing for visas. One of the consular staff had been nicknamed "the angel of mercy" as she ministered to the wounded and the picture that had gone round the world showed her taking off her blouse to use it a makeshift tourniquet.

It had helped that she was a particularly attractive young Kenyan woman and I was sure that this was her. Her hair was a little different; it was now close cropped, but that only made her dark features all the more striking.

The older woman confirmed my guess when she sidled up closer to me.

"He's a nice one. I think I'd like to get started straight away."

Her accent was deep south and she wasted no time in taking a seat at the table. The others laughed as they joined her and then the hostess explained to me.

"We'll be playing poker. It's just for token stakes but a winning hand brings its own bonus." 

With a subtle movement of her hand she indicated the vacant seat at the table. I was perplexed until she whispered to me.

"Just put into practise all that you've learnt...your future may depend on it."

It was then that I grasped that my place was not at the table but beneath it. In my mind's eye I saw myself tearing them apart them with a show of brute strength but, knowing just how easily I could be subdued, I breathed deeply and forced myself to bide my time.

Ignoring their mocking smiles I took my place as the last chair slid into place to complete my confinement. The four contrasting pairs of legs formed the bars of my cage and I wondered just what was expected of me.

The first hint came as I heard cards being dealt and the familiar click of betting chips. The opening hand was over quickly as the American bid over aggressively, enough to force the others out.

I heard her pulling the pot towards her but then a light went on to my left. It was set into the underside of the table, small, but very bright. As my eyes were drawn to it the American, sitting at that edge of the table, blatantly opened her legs. 

She was not wearing hose and the orange peel texture of her inner thighs was harshly illuminated. A twisted fascination brought my gaze to her exposed sex and the sight was not edifying. 

She had prominent labia but not a matched pair. One lip was noticeably less full than the other giving the impression of a lopsided smile. I also noted that she was imperfectly depilated as if she was in a hurry or simply did not care. The odd barbs numbered more gray than dark.

My stomach felt decidedly uneasy but it was something I simply had to get through. I closed my eyes, leant in, and began.

She was already aroused and my tongue was greeted with a sour wetness but she warmed quickly. I closed my eyes and tried, without success, to imagine someone else. 

It took such any effort of will that I almost forgot the game but then the light above me went out. It took a moment to appreciate that a new light had come on and this time it was the Nordic woman.

The cue was obvious and I shuffled around on my knees. Only when I was in place did she slowly open her legs and I was not surprised to find that she had eschewed any underwear. After the American this was paradise. She had long tanned legs and on her inner thigh she had a tattoo of a cute teddy bear with a tee shirt bearing the blue cross of the Finnish flag. 

Her sex was a neat, bare, mound with a tight divide but the scent of her arousal was already apparent. She yielded almost immediately to the pressure of my tongue and I lunged deep inside as if to rid myself of the memory of the American.

The next hand took longer and I had the impression that she was deliberately stringing things out so that she could continue to take advantage of me. Her friends began to scold her affably and finally the cards were played.

I could tell from the sounds above me what had ensued but my fears were made manifest when the light on the American's side of the table came on again. The Nordic woman gave me a gentle squeeze with her thighs as if to say that she intended to win next time but, in the meanwhile, I was condemned. 

I took my place between her heavy thighs only to find that she had leaked arousal in anticipation of this outcome. For a brief moment I contemplated getting to my feet and throwing the table across the room but my mind was being read because a warning current tormented my groin. I reapplied myself with bad grace and hoped that my reluctance was not too evident.

Over the next half an hour the only hands won were either the American or the Finn. From what I could hear I suspected that the hostess was folding with otherwise winning hands and the Kenyan was far too timid in her approach against the hostile bidding of her two friends.

I am sure that the Finn reached a climax but it seemed part of the game to fain indifference to what was happening beneath the table. The American seemed happy to bide her time confident that she could avail herself of my services whenever she wished.

I had just completed another gruelling session between her legs when the pattern was broken. The Kenyan had been dealt a hand that even she could win with and, for the first time, her light was illuminated.

I moved into position but she seemed hesitant to part her legs. When she did so I could see that she was wearing a simple pair of white panties which contrasted with the pale mocha of her skin. Egged on by her friends she reached down and took them off.

Her sex was coy, almost childlike. I had never actually been with a virgin but that was how I felt at that moment albeit her very presence in the room suggested a wealth of experience. 

I began to lick at the slight uplift of her mound but achieved no immediate response. For reasons I could not explain I took this as a slight and I redoubled my efforts. Meanwhile I dimly registered that a new hand had been dealt but the other three almost immediately folded. It seemed that they were determined that their friend would enjoy herself however reluctantly.

At that point she surrendered to their design. Like the miraculous blooming of a flower her sex opened to me and I could taste her pent up excitement. My tongue assimilated the familiar tang but my mind imbued it with a hint of something more exotic.

I licked long and deep, seeking more, and the heat from her increased by slow degrees. The game was forgotten as I began to sweat with effort and I could not say what drove me on. Her legs began to tremble and, in the now quiet room, there was an air of expectancy.

Any attempt at pretence was abandoned as she began to gasp audibly and then, after a demanding climb to the summit, she started to climax. The result was a total inundation. Nothing could have prepared me for the flood that washed over me almost drowning me in the process.

In the time it took me to react it was too late. Her legs scissored around my head holding me firm with a surprising strength. Her muscles continued to squeeze me painfully as she determined to wring out every last drop and with it the final vestiges of pleasure.

When she let me go I felt wrecked as I contemplated this transformation from timidity to demanding she-devil but I was forestalled as the American's light came on again.

Chapter Six

I was in danger of losing track of time as I was put to further tests in the ensuing days. There were other women but mainly her as she forced me to refine my technique and read the nuances of her body.

Twice more I tried to escape but was defeated by the wiring of the windows and doors There was, however, one crumb of hope. 

She did not wear a wedding band but, instead, an elaborate ring with a Celtic design. I noticed that, when she felt the need to warn me with a threat of pain, she touched the underside of the ring with her thumb. 

This evidence that there was probably no one watching us when we were alone set me thinking about how I might physically overwhelm her. My thoughts turned to a knife at her throat, or some such, and I began to look out for a likely weapon. The problem was that it would have to be something close to hand as it would be impossible to secret anything whilst I was kept naked.

It was in the evening that the transparency of my thoughts was made obvious to me. For the very first time she came to me in my cell in company with the maid.

"Stay where you are and put your hands above your head."

I was lying on the bed and immediately noted her thumb hovering near the ring. Deciding that this was not the moment I stretched my arms and the maid proceeded to secure my wrists to the bed posts. She then fastened my ankles in similar fashion.

I wondered why they now felt it necessary to physically restrain me given that they could drop me any time they wanted and I awaited an explanation.