0 comments/ 16626 views/ 1 favorites The Willing Prisoner By: enchantman I know not when they shall return. It is certain, if they find me writing down these words, they will be very hard on me. How they would choose to punish me, I dare not imagine. Yet write I must, even if it is for naught. If this is ever read by anyone, it will hopefully prove interesting. I seriously doubt it will be published- I should know a little about that, after all. My name used to be Kendall, Montrose Kendall. I was a well-paid executive, a senior editor at Brookhouse Press. I was married, lived a good life. I was not a very moral man, but I was no less moral than most. Why I would end up here, in this condition, I can only attribute to a deep, unfulfilled desire to be loved in a different way than the world could provide. My name now is simply "Slave". I have forsaken my family life, my status. I still work by day in the industry, but without the pride and arrogance I once relished. It all began three years ago, after attending a company party. I was bored, argumentative. Nothing was of much interest to me anymore. My peers were unashamedly dull, pursuing their country club values, talking of details that had no relation to life. I was sickened. The party was held at John Wakefield's estate, an hour north of Atlanta. There were probably seventy guests, including spouses, most of whom I knew too well from having worked my ass off for twenty-five years at Brookhouse Press. I wake up in a dark room. Groggy. A little headache pulsating through his temples, he brought his hand slowly to his forehead. Absolute stillness pervaded, silently witnessing his plight. No idea of how I've gotten here. Unfamiliar feeling to the room, where the windows are placed, where the door is. I turn to look in either direction, realize my arms can't move- my hands are tied, strapped by some silky scarves to the bedposts. Where am I? And who tied me up? I try to move my legs, and realize they are tied as well. I am stretched out, spread-eagled, in this dark room. I am dressed in what seem to be black pajamas, only the crotch is open and I can feel my cock and balls are hanging out of it, totally exposed. I hear a sound, it's the sound of high heels scraping on the smooth floor. A woman's voice in the distance catches my attention. The footsteps get closer, and the door opens. Light in the hall blinds me, I can only make out the silhouette of a tall woman with a very lean but nicely curved figure. As she approaches closer to the bed, closer to my body, my cock hardens involuntarily. I try to restrain its growth, unwilling to display my privacy before this stranger, but to no avail. I hear her breathing, then all is silent. The hallway light softly illuminates her from behind. She is gorgeous, with a mane of dark hair and olive complexion. She bends over me. My prick stands up, vibrating, an uncontrollable desire engorging it to capacity. I strain at the ties that bind me, but they hold tight. She is in full view , though the room is still dark. Her leather fashion is stark- no frills. Straps cross her torso below her breasts, which accentuate her taut nipples. They strain forth above the harness as if asking to be nuzzled, to be licked. A thin, black leather collar around her neck is studded with some kind of animal teeth. She holds a black dildo in her right hand, made of hardened rubber, black as night. She licks her lips as she leans back and slowly inserts the artificial cock between her legs, rolls her mouth and tongue, and calls out "Yes, master. O, yes master- give me all of your love." With her free left hand she begins touching her glossy clitoris, unveiled now in all its pinkish radiance. First with very hesitant, coy touches, then with more frequent motions, her hips are now writhing in rhythmic motion around the artificial cock, sopping wet with her musky juice as its length appears, then disappears from my view. She moans in ecstasy and begins writhing around the bed. Her left arm flails wildly, and falls over my face. Her underarm presses over my nose, the scent intoxicating, musky, her fur so thick and sensual. I want more. I inhale as deeply as possible, but she is gone again, squirming and writhing about the bed, the dildo moving at a furious pace. I moan, feeling the intense pressure in my loins and cock, wanting so much to taste the juices flowing out of her, to dive my tongue deep into her sweetness, to substitute that carved rod with my natural one. But she will have none of that. She gives me a sidelong glance after her body has been jolted by several seismographic orgasms. "I see you struggling, but it is no use." Her voice nearly purrs, but with a menacing edge. "You are my prisoner now, and no one will find you here. I spotted you at the publishing firm when I was a visiting consultant nearly three years ago, and have been keeping an eye on you. I have always wanted you in this way, always sensed you would respond well to my program. But I had no idea how much you would respond!" She leaned over my throbbing cock, brought her face within kissing range of it. Suddenly her long nails dug into my thighs and she raked downward. I gave a start, and she backed away, only to sit up on her knees and slowly move closer to my face. "Is this what you're after, huh? He wants his pussy- here, eat this, slave!" She straddles my chest and presses her mons veneris against my gaping mouth, my lips moist from drooling at the vision of this sex goddess loving herself so unabashedly, so fully. I immediately begin lapping up her creamy emanation- so sweet and thick. I could easily drown in its aroma and richness, saturating my face, bathing me from out of the folds of her inner sanctum. My tongue makes brief forays toward her clitoris, which seem to impress her, for each time I do so she shivers and nearly collapses from her dominant perch above my face. While I lap away, the thought passes by- what is happening? Where am I? And why does this feel so right, so good- so fulfilling? But these thoughts are yanked away as I can feel her left hand, coated with a greasy lotion, taking hold of my cock. With a sharp squeeze right below the corona she temporarily stuns it hapless. Pivoting on her ass, she turns to face my wilting but still ruby-red hard-on. She brings her mouth down over it so slowly I hardly know what is happening until she has engulfed me, her tongue dancing around every millimeter, like a little morsel for her pleasure, while one free hand strokes me and the other brings a pointed finger up against, and into, my asshole. As she does this, she raises her own bottom over any objection on my part, until it towers teasingly over my face. Slowly, with the care of a precision dancer, she eases herself down until the tiny pink crenellated hole of her ass is staring directly in the eyes. I rejoice in the new visual image of this untraditional but thoroughly provocative woman, and burrow my face deep into the nest of her love, lapping as much as I can before she chooses to move away again. But to my happy surprise she doesn't move away, but rather only increases the motion of her churning hips, her pelvis urging me on, deeper into a kind of addiction to the taste, the sound, the pressure- deeper into connection, and a kaleidoscope of delicious sensation. I am aware she has stopped licking me, and instead is squeezing my cock firmly, right around the corona, painfully hard. "That's to keep you fresh for a long time to come, slave. I plan to milk you very, very slowly, so that you're always hot for me when I need you!" She backs away from me, still on her knees. She reaches for the dildo, rubbing a thick oily substance on it, then skillfully straps it onto herself, so that it juts out in front of her, as if she now has the cock in the family. She positions herself between my strapped legs. "You seem very fuckable tonight, slave. I'm gonna enjoy seeing you feel fulfilled." She says these last words with a kind of smirk, a glint of devilish glee. Spreading the cheeks of my ass, she inserts the glistening head of the dildo into my asshole. "Hey, no, that's too big- stop!" I begin to cry out, but she is not a woman who easily gives up when faced with a difficult situation. Inexorably, centimeter-by-centimeter, she presses that thing right into my bottom. I feel a hurting, stretching, screaming deep in my rectum, when she adroitly secures the tip of my cock in her mouth and begins to slather it, teasingly, provocatively. Maybe I'll be OK, I think to myself. Maybe I can handle this. In fact, the sensations coming from my ass are even more delicious, if comparison is possible. Something is going on here that's quite incredible! I love this dildo in me! I feel so safe, so secure. I am being humped by a dildo and sucked by this leather-clad dominatrix, and I feel safe and loved! The next moment the sensation changes, because she is no longer kissing my cock. She has mounted me and is riding me like a cowgirl on a stallion. Her left hand comes between her legs, underneath her pussy and my cock, to keep the dildo operational. She leans over me- her musky breath makes me want to dive into her forever. Her tongue enters my mouth on a mission to seek and destroy any vestiges of propriety, any semblance of tradition, any bit of control and sexual inhibition. She is showing me that it is all right, that even this crazy, it is all right. That I deserve being given to in a way that pleases me- and pleases her- enough to know that I needn't seek for love anywhere but here, in this new but strangely familiar home. At that moment she pulls away, looking in my eyes with a deeper love than I have ever known before. She is still inside me, in my ass. My prick is knocking fruitlessly against her belly with each pelvic thrust into my bottom that she makes. My cock feels frustrated with no home to go to. "I think I know what you've been wanting. Just know everything has it's price- and the price you're gonna pay for this may be that you'll never be able to settle for less than what you fully deserve, all the time, in every way. Cause when it comes to loving, I know you want to love more and more- and that's why I've invited a few special girlfriends over for the night." Just then a knock at the door silences her. "Who's there?" she asks hesitantly. The door swings open, and two breathtakingly lovely ladies walk through. Nina and Karol- I knew them from the publishing firm. I didn't know them well- just that neither seemed to have much luck keeping a relationship going, and they were always on the phone to each other commiserating about being dumped by somebody else. But somehow that old image of them didn't fit- woman who couldn't find a man? Purely from a visual standpoint, not yet approaching their personality, what man could not want to do anything to stay in relationship with one of these women? Both are dressed in black high heels, nylons and garter belts, and a thin black choker. Their breasts hang freely, swaying back and forth. "Has he been troubling you, Anolia? It's a good thing we're here now- we'll help keep him in his place." They move to either side, while Anolia continues to guide her dildo in and out of me. Bending down, they kiss me on the lips at the same time, while Anolia sits upright in the saddle and begins bucking. Nina swings towards my groin and takes hold of my aching cock in her lips. "Yumm!" She manages to muffle before completely swallowing me to my balls. Meanwhile Karol has positioned herself backwards, straddling my face. Her pussy is an entirely different experience from Anolia's- the lips quite large and swollen, easy to grab with my teeth and tongue and suck very deeply. Her juice taste like some kind of nectar. I am in heaven! Meanwhile, I can feel the excitement building in me as Nina continues to suck me, lick me, and caress me with her tongue. And Anolia is starting to howl with pleasure, for the dildo is pressing up against her clitoris quite forcefully. I can't help it any longer..."I'm gonna come if you don't stop this right now..." Suddenly, as if I had spoken a sacred command, there is dead silence and stillness. I feel Nina's mouth sliding off my cock, replaced by a tight squeeze of her powerful fist. Karol sits back on my chest and Anolia withdraws the dildo halfway. "Thanks for warning us, slave. But we're sensitive woman, and we'll know when to stop. Because tonight you're not coming, not on your life... You hear me?" A stinging slap to my cock signals its rapid descent in girth. Thus began the longest night of my life, which has never ended. I come home after work everyday now to meet Anolia, Nina and Karol. We all live together, although I have my own bedroom and they all sleep together. Sometimes I can't sleep cause of all the laughter and moaning I hear next door, when all of a sudden they'll be back- ordering me to do something that I would beg to just be able to do. I have found my Goddesses, and they keep finding me if ever I try to hide. My cock is kept in a near-permanent state of erection, but rarely allowed to come. As soon as little pre-come drops begin forming on the tip, all activity stops, and someone will ask out of the darkness, "Aren't we being a little bit too hasty, slave? After all, you are here to serve the Goddess, remember? See to it that you never forget."